"What's this?"
I raised my arm, turning the back of my hand toward me, and showed Salkenia the mark on my wrist. I did it despite wondering whether the headless Salkenia could even see it.
"I didn't have anything like this before I came back to life."
That meant it must have appeared as a result of becoming Salkenia's captain. Salkenia studied my wrist closely, resting her hand over where her mouth should have been. Then, as though she did not understand it herself, she answered,
[I do not know.]
It was an absurd answer. I examined the blue circle. It was in the very spot where the dagger had pierced me. But there was no cut to be seen. Thinking back, I had been using my right hand without difficulty ever since I came back to life.
‘Is it the trace of a healed wound?’
My severed neck had reattached when I returned to life, so there was no reason a cut wound would not heal, too. This blue circle might be a different kind of scar.
‘It looks strange.’
Blue like water, yet rippling like fire. I soon stopped thinking about it. If even Salkenia did not know, there was no point in worrying over what the circle was.
Creak, creak, clatter, clatter.
The skeleton sailors busily prepared to set sail. Each went to its appointed place, pulling ropes taut and tying them off as they hurried about.
Clack-clack!
In the middle of the deck, Perero clicked his teeth together as he directed them. Judging by his manner, he seemed to be shouting orders, but I could hear nothing but clacking.
‘Right. First, I have to leave Semeln.’
I had killed people. Three of them, at that. Guns were weapons made to kill people, and I had pulled the trigger intending to kill them, but it had been closer to an outburst of impulse than a rational decision. I killed to live, and I killed for revenge.
‘I have to run.’
That impulsive murder would become a crime that followed at my heels. More than one or two people had seen my face, and I would surely be wanted before long. Had I not killed someone right in front of a Maritime League building?
‘But where to?’
The promise I had made with Salkenia came to mind.
-You must recover my lost head.
Like an inanimate object that could speak, Salkenia's words lacked emotion. The only times I had clearly felt her emotions were when she spoke of this promise and when I accepted it.
"Where is your head?"
Salkenia answered evenly.
[I do not know that, either. I lost my memories along with my head.]
Then where did that neat posture and dignified manner of speech come from?
"You don't even remember where you lost it?"
Salkenia shook her head. It was strange to see, considering that there was nothing inside the veil that could be called a head.
[My oldest memory is dense darkness and dreadful silence. For an immeasurably long time, Salkenia waited for the captain.]
I could not help voicing a question.
"Why?"
If the skeleton sailors could operate the ship by themselves, why did Salkenia need a captain? Even now, they were preparing to sail perfectly well without me.
[Because a ship advances toward its captain's goal. Conversely, a ship cannot advance without a captain.]
I frowned.
"You have a goal of finding your head. Doesn't that mean you can solve the problem by becoming the captain yourself?"
[Salkenia is not a captain. Salkenia is a ship.]
Were captain and ship concepts that had to be kept separate? Perhaps I had been too caught up in Salkenia's appearance. She had a sense of self, but Salkenia was a ship. No, a ghost?
"So you don't know where your head is. Searching the whole vast sea is too vague, no matter how I look at it."
What Salkenia had lost was probably the head of the figurehead. If it had fallen off during a collision between ships, or an attack by a sea monster, it was presumed to be somewhere in the sea. But the sea was vast.
"Ah. Could Perero remember?"
If he was Salkenia's oldest sailor, he might know something. But Salkenia denied it.
[Perero has a sense of self, but his memory is not very good.]
Even humans could not remember exactly what had happened yesterday. Salkenia appeared to have been abandoned for at least ten years.
"Still, just in case. Call him over."
[I believe Perero would be pleased if the captain called for him.]
Could that skeleton even understand an emotion called pleasure? Unlike the other skeleton sailors, he did show expressions, so perhaps he could.
"Perero."
I called Perero. Perero, who had been darting across the deck, came hurrying up to the poop deck. Then he stared blankly at me as though asking why I had called him.
"Do you remember where Salkenia's head is? Or even somewhere you think it might be."
After thinking carefully, Perero soon shook his skull from side to side and tapped his empty head.
Tonk.
It meant his head was empty. As he tapped it, I noticed the faded headscarf wrapped around Perero's head. Come to think of it, why was Perero the only one wearing clothing—specifically, a headscarf?
‘To tell Perero apart from the other skeleton sailors?’
That could not be it. Though the skeletons were similar, they differed somewhat in bone structure, color, build, and teeth. Then what was that headscarf? As I looked more closely, I saw a faint line.
"Take that headscarf off."
At my command, Perero shyly twisted his body, covered his hollow chest, and clacked softly. I got an extremely unpleasant feeling. Salkenia translated what Perero said.
[Perero asks whether you intend to take him.]
I answered by drawing my pistol. Startled out of his wits, Perero waved his hands as though to say he had been joking, took off the headscarf, and handed it to me. I untied the knot and spread it out.
Clack?
Perero peered at the unfolded headscarf over my shoulder.
[Captain. This is.]
The dried bloodstain at the end of the headscarf. It was not an ordinary headscarf after all. Hidden inside it was—
"A nautical chart."
A nautical chart drawn in blood. At a glance, I might have mistaken it for a map because the landmass it depicted was broad, but it was certainly a nautical chart: reefs and coastlines were drawn in detail, while the land was rendered only roughly.
"You didn't know?"
Salkenia nodded, as did Perero, who had been wearing it on his head, as though neither had known. Nautical charts were expensive. People said that a well-made chart could not be bought even with gold coins.
‘It doesn't look like such an expensive chart, though.’
The more area a nautical chart covered and the more detailed its obstacles and coastlines were, the more valuable it was. But this chart depicted only a coastline presumed to be Semeln and one village across the sea. In other words, it contained far too little information. But there was one unusual piece of information.
"This."
There was a small village called Lindana across the sea from Semeln. Inside it was a strange mark: a simple symbol of intersecting red lines.
"Your head might be here."
I would have to see what was there to know for sure, but it seemed that I had found a clue. A lighthouse had shone on a night without a single star.
***
Ever since being posted to the Semeln Branch of the Maritime League, Leon Dias had been seized by a sense of emptiness. Semeln was peaceful enough to be called the safest port city. It was adjacent to the blue sea, also called the sea of the calmest hue, and its level of public order was high.
‘This isn't why I joined the Maritime League.’
Leon, who had once served as a soldier, had joined the Maritime League so he could operate ships more freely and wipe out sea monsters and pirates. But the largest incidents in Semeln were little more than thefts and robberies in the slums.
‘Boring.’
He could not even intervene in events that occurred on land, because they were outside the Maritime League's jurisdiction. As Leon was seriously considering returning to military service, someone flung open his door.
"Murder! There's been a murder!"
He was a noble who supported the Maritime League. Leon did not remember his name. Still, he was undoubtedly an important person as a source of funds.
"If it is a murder case, you should go to a magistrate, not my room."
"No, the bastard shot a beggar dead with a gun! He even threatened me!"
"People being killed at the harbor is commonplace."
"He did it in front of the Semeln Branch of the Maritime League!"
Leon rose to his feet. What mattered was neither that a beggar had been shot dead nor that a noble had been threatened. It was the fact that someone had been killed in front of a Maritime League building.
‘It is a dangerous act that could be taken as a declaration of war. Who would dare?’
The culprit was one of two things. Either a fool who did not understand the meaning of this act, or a madman who had committed it knowing full well. Leon's lips curved upward.
‘Interesting.’
It had not happened at sea, but there was ample justification to act, since a noble had been threatened in front of a Maritime League building.
"Lock down the harbor. I will begin the search at once."
Leon put on his coat and left the room, leaving the noble behind.
***
"Raise the anchor!"
I felt a faint thrill as I spoke words I had always wanted to say once I became a captain. The conditions were nearly the worst possible. Faint moonlight shone, but visibility was poor, and the ghost ship Salkenia was trapped among abandoned vessels.
"Whew."
To set sail, I first had to slip between the derelict ships and reach the sea. It was like guiding the huge, ponderous body of a giant through a complex, narrow maze. And the person gripping the ship's wheel was none other than me.
"Am I really doing this?"
Unsure, I looked to Salkenia. Salkenia replied in a voice without the slightest concern.
[Skeleton sailors cannot properly handle complicated, detailed tasks. That might be different on the open sea, but it is not a good idea to leave the ship's wheel to them in a place like this.]
But I was a novice captain who had never even been aboard a ship before.
"I think it'd be better to let Perero do it."
He was supposed to be the oldest sailor, so he should know how to turn a ship's wheel.
[Are you serious?]
Apparently excited, Perero was rubbing his head now that it was without a headscarf. He did not look very trustworthy.
"Never mind."
I changed my mind. A captain ought to know how to handle at least a ship's wheel.
[I shall assist you, so you need not worry too much.]
Strangely, those words gave me confidence. I had never known that having someone standing behind me could be so reassuring. Even if she was a headless ghost.
"All right. I might as well try it."
The ship, its sails catching the land breeze blowing at night, began to move slowly. According to Salkenia, it was still not sufficiently prepared to set sail, but I forced our departure as soon as the minimum preparations were complete. There was one reason.
‘There are too many lights in the direction of Semeln.’
Semeln was in an uproar, perhaps because they were looking for me. Once they searched inside the city, they would naturally control the coast. They would not rule out the possibility that I had fled by ship from a port city. In other words, I had to get away quickly.
Creeeak.
I turned the ship's wheel. But although I was sure I had turned it, the direction did not seem to change.
[You need to turn it farther, in the direction opposite from the one you wish to go.]
Following Salkenia's words, I turned the ship's wheel.
Whirl, whirl, whirl.
Only after turning it dozens of times did the bow begin to change direction.
‘You have to turn it this much?’
The more turns it took, the finer the control it allowed. Perhaps the ship was being considerate of me, for it moved slowly. It might have been slower as a result, but it began to make its way through the ship graveyard.
‘Good. Just keep going like this.’
While I concentrated, Salkenia relayed what Perero, perched atop the sail, had said.
[Captain, Perero says a ship is approaching.]