The presence of Jayn had given them just enough time to make their case and for Bobb to process enough of the dialect to become almost fluent. They had been trapped on the ocean, he explained, picked up by the huge ice ship and held prisoner- but treated fairly. They had escaped, repaying their debt by rescuing a downed flier. Now they were ashore, and willing to offer their assistance if it would buy them passage to the North of the fjord city.
“Why do I need your assistance? I have my assistance.” The rifleman, Yoll, gestured out to sea, where the troop ships were offloading.
This was Sheel’s cue. She stepped up and pointed at a tree down the beach. Her upper body shook slightly, as if someone had pushed hard at the outstretched arm, and there were three close pops. The trunk of the tree shattered and spat white splinters in all directions. It toppled and landed in an explosion of white sand.
“Can you all do that?” Yoll asked after a moment.
“A shame. I have my army, what use do I have for even someone with…. Whatever power it is you possess?”
“I will take responsibility for them.” Jayn volunteered.
“They pulled me out of the water. I believe with some tribes that means I must travel with them until I can repay the debt.”
“Very well. You would do well to select a weapon.”
Gimm offered Jayn her own gun back. It had been stashed at the bottom of a sack that no-one had bothered to search. “Thank you for your help.”
“Consider it a debt repaid. Besides, I’m the curious type, and after that little display I want to know more.”
The ships out to sea had spawned hundreds of smaller craft. Half were heading for the beach, the rest angled toward the islands and the fishing port for what might be a contested landing.