With the old Yangtze I shared only a few memories, but I respected her greatly, as I respected anyone of my own gender.
When I first met her she had already been an old woman, yet despite her age she still possessed pristine chestnut hair and a dim, distant look, as if she had seen far too much in her life.
Perhaps she had.
But I did not care when I stepped off the ship in the port of Katorea, convinced that I was the most wronged person in the world.
I was not mistaken when I guessed that the old woman would be waiting for me at the corner of the very first street, pretending—rather pathetically—that my arrival had surprised her completely.
"God help my soul," she snorted, crossing herself quickly, although the expression on her face revealed quite clearly that she had been expecting me.
"Well, let us pray that He will," I agreed, wondering whether she had any idea how appropriate those words were in my particular case.
"You come here alone at night," she observed calmly, "so you must want to ask me something, don't you, Emperor?"
Her dried face wrinkled even more when she smiled and gestured for me to follow her.
The apartment she led me into was comfortably furnished and located in the richer part of the city, which surprised me slightly, because the old woman had always preferred to live in small huts in the middle of nowhere, where she could brew her potions without worrying about being accused of witchcraft.
She seated me in a plush armchair and offered me a glass of eggnog.
I refused.
"The imperial palate requires imperial alcohol," she said with a knowing nod. "Drink as much as you like. I am glad to see you again, Pebble."
She placed a bottle on the table and sat down across from me, absentmindedly playing with one of the dozen medallions hanging around her neck.
I took a generous swallow straight from the bottle and exhaled with satisfaction as the liquid burned its way down my throat.
"Reminds me of the time behind Logue Town when we ran into the crew of the Wolf's Star," I said with a laugh. "We robbed them of thirty barrels of booze from the East Blue and, Christ, it was disgusting. Almost exactly like this!"
The old woman made a face of pure disgust, which only made me laugh harder.
"And with that vodka we invented the flag," I added more quietly, feeling a sudden wave of nostalgia.
"Old times," she said gently. "Do not bother with the past, Pebble."
Then she leaned forward.
"You came here for a reason. Speak."
"Roger," I roared, slamming the bottle down on the table. "I did what you said. I played Scythe with Jones… and I won."
Yangtze looked at me with clear admiration. At that moment I could not have cared less.
"But my brother refused to leave the Locker," I hissed furiously, my voice trembling on the edge of despair.
"I got the fastest ship on the seas. The Banshee is unmatched on any ocean. And I have a crew of a hundred convicts who long ago sold their souls to Jones. They cannot be killed—only wounded."
"And not for long," I added bitterly. "Because the bastards regenerate."
"And the power?" the old woman whispered urgently, gripping the armrests of her chair with her wrinkled, arthritic fingers.
"There's nothing I can't do now," I admitted distractedly. "But that was never the point, Yangtze. It was supposed to be about Roger, and that fool refused!"
I jumped out of the armchair and began pacing across the small living room, my heels striking the tiles sharply.
"He thinks his time is over!"
"That is because it is," she replied calmly, speaking a truth I refused to accept.
I looked at her with pure hatred.
"It's not! We could return as the most powerful crew in this world. No one could stand against him if I were at his side. We would destroy the Navy…"
I spoke with growing excitement, trying to convince myself that it was still possible.
If only Roger had been standing in front of me.
If I had been able to persuade him…
His death.
"Ralagan." The old woman's tired voice cut through my thoughts. "He knew his era was over. He left this world willingly and with peace in his heart, because he had already conquered everything there was to conquer."
She watched me quietly.
"You are the only one who cannot move on. You are the only one still chasing after him, trying to drag him back to life when he himself refuses."
I lowered my head at that accusation, breathing shallowly and silently.
Yangtze was right.
She was always right.
Whenever she spoke about things that were or things that would be, she spoke with absolute certainty. And she was never wrong.
"What should I do now?" I whispered, tears filling my eyes as I turned away from her so she would not see them.
"Surely the old devil demanded payment beyond your soul?"
"Aye," I muttered bitterly. "I must bring him the souls of those who died at sea. Nothing else remains for me now."
"There is something else," she said quietly.
That caught my attention immediately.
"I wonder if Roger ever told you about it."
"About what?"
She watched me carefully before answering.
"His child, Pebble."
Her voice dropped almost to a whisper.
"You have a nephew. Did you truly not know that?"