"Is the sea going up?"
Lucien had read about a great many things. Distant islands, strange weather systems, kingdoms built on impossible foundations. He had not read about this. Or if he had, the words had not prepared him for the reality of standing at the bow of a ship and watching the ocean rise, the water climbing the face of a colossal red mountain that reached the clouds in defiance of every reasonable expectation about how water was supposed to behave.
He could not find his usual expression. It had been replaced by something considerably more unguarded.
"First time leaving North Blue?" Cael said, somewhere beside him. There was quiet amusement in his voice, which was unusual enough to be notable on its own.
"Nothing I read mentioned the sea going upward," Lucien said.
"Reverse Mountain," Cael said, leaning on the railing with the ease of someone who had seen this before and still found it worth looking at. "The water currents from all four seas converge at the base and are pushed upward rather than outward. The only way through to the Grand Line is over it." He glanced at Lucien. "Loguetown is in East Blue. We go up and over before we come down into it." He straightened. "Find something to hold onto. If you are standing loose when we hit the current at the top, you will go into the water, and the water here is not forgiving."
It had been a week since they left the Lvneel Kingdom. Lucien was still quietly surprised that Cael, a man who had arranged his entire life to avoid the sight of other people, had packed a bag and walked down the hill without being asked. He had read in the subsequent newspapers that the Marines were expecting notorious pirates from every sea to converge on Loguetown for the execution. The old man had looked at that article and said nothing, but the next morning he had told Lucien to pack light and be ready by sunrise.
They had joined a merchant fleet travelling between the four seas, five ships with around fifty hired bodyguards between them, which Cael had selected with the quiet efficiency of someone who had made this kind of calculation many times before.
Lucien caught the railing with both hands as the ship began to tilt toward the mountain. He held it with more force than was probably necessary. The wood felt like it might cooperate but he was not prepared to test that assumption. The current grew louder as they passed through the narrow gates at the mountain's base, and somewhere to his left he could hear Cael chuckling, which he did not have the spare concentration to respond to.
He closed his eyes as the ship hit the ascending current fully. The force pushed him flat against the railing and the sky came rushing downward and the sound became everything. It lasted longer than he expected and less long than it felt.
Then the ships crested the top, threaded through the red rock walls at the mountain's peak, and tipped forward.
He opened his eyes as they fell.
The descent dropped them into East Blue with an impact that sent white water across the entire deck. He unclenched the railing slowly, finger by finger, and looked around. The sea ahead was calm and ordinary and blue. Behind them the mountain rose impossibly tall, already receding as the current carried them forward.
"That was remarkable," he said. "I want to understand how the water only flows upward in that specific spot. The physics of it alone are worth coming all the way out here for."
"That one gimmick is worth the journey?" Cael said flatly. "There are things in this world that would make Reverse Mountain look like a minor inconvenience. Save your amazement." He turned away from the railing. "We reach Loguetown tomorrow. Go back to your practice."
The day moved faster than expected. By the following afternoon, they were pulling into one of the busiest ports Lucien had ever seen, and he had seen a reasonable number of ports by this point. The docks stretched in both directions as far as he could see, packed with ships of every size. The market streets visible from the water were dense with movement and noise and more variety of shops than he could begin to count.
"The Town of Beginning and End," Cael said, standing beside him at the railing as they came in. "Last port before Reverse Mountain. The biggest Marine base in all of East Blue is here." He looked out at the crowd. "There are still three days before the execution. Why is it this busy already?"
"This is not busy," Cael said. "This is Loguetown on an ordinary day. You have not been to any of the major ports in North Blue or you would know the difference. It will be considerably more crowded in three days." He picked up his bag. "We check in and rest. I have someone to meet tonight."
Lucien looked at him. "You are going to meet someone. Voluntarily. Of your own free will."
"Yes," Cael said, and walked down the gangplank.
They checked into a small inn near the port district, functional and clean, the kind of place chosen by someone who valued proximity to the exit over comfort. Cael set his bag down, told Lucien to eat something and be back before dark, and left without further explanation.
Lucien sat on the edge of his bed for a moment, listening to the noise of the city coming through the window. Then he picked up his coat and went out to look at Loguetown properly.
The execution platform was already built. He found it at the centre of the town, a raised wooden structure in the main square that workers were still finishing the final details on. A crowd had already gathered around it, not for any event but simply to look at the thing itself.
He stood at the edge of the crowd and looked at it for a while. The platform was not large. The drop was not high. For something with this much of the world's attention on it, it was a remarkably ordinary piece of carpentry.
He thought about the poster in Flevance. The grin. The five billion berry bounty. The same man who had worn that expression was going to stand on that platform in three days.