Nessa gazed after Jerome as he snaked his way through clusters of people, making his way over to the window where she spied the unlucky soul trying to hide between a rather hefty fellow and the curtain. The only shortcoming behind his otherwise highly sophisticated hiding spot was that he was wearing an obnoxiously bright-red doublet. The man he was trying to hide behind just wasn’t hefty enough either.
After watching the ensuring confrontation just long enough to be amused, Nessa turned away and scanned the room. Hunter and Orm were in there somewhere.
The lounge was reasonably generous in size, long and low ceilinged, like many of the guest house’s rooms. The lack of a bar or an adjoining kitchen allowed for wide circles of old armchairs and sofas. A large inglenook fireplace dominated much of the far wall with its flames roaring, which was always a guaranteed sight, throwing out dancing light that chased away the chill and gloom of encroaching winter. It was the perfect place to spend an evening, snuggled comfortably in one of the old armchairs, reading one of the many books that called the numerous floor-to-ceiling shelves home.
Spying Orm’s distinct, shaven head on the other side of the room, Nessa started to make her away over to him. With what seemed like every chair occupied, every sofa overflowing, Nessa wormed around standing groups of men, none of whom seemed to be inclined to move out of her way. She didn’t think she had ever seen the lounge this busy before, this jam-packed. There was no joy or revelry, though. The air was thick with tension, full of murmured arguments and discord.
What happened at the docks?
They were facing away from her, slouched in a two-seater, a shaven head leaning in close to a mop of messy, brown curls. At the sight of them, Nessa breathed a sigh of relief and flung herself forwards, wrapping her arms around Hunter’s neck, uncaring that it was a little awkward and that the sofa’s bony back dug into her ribcage.
Hunter jumped, surprised, then promptly relaxed when he realised who it was.
“Why,” Hunter laughed, “hello to you too, little adventurer.” He shifted, trying to turn around to face her. Nessa tightened her arms and rested her chin on the top of his head, holding him still.
“I’m so glad the two of you are alive,” Nessa murmured, her gaze swivelling to Orm, who had an eyebrow quirked and a glass raised to his lips, taking a sip.
“It appears that Jerome isn’t particularly good at informing our late returner of today’s events,” Orm said, sounding faintly amused.
“So it seems,” Hunter mused. “However, there’s a silver lining: I get this kind of greeting.”
“A silver lining for you, perhaps,” Orm grumbled. “I don’t get hug.”
Nessa grinned. “Do you want a hug?”
“Can I save it for a rainy day?”
“If you want.”
Orm shifted, sidling to the side, and patted the narrow gap between him and Hunter. “Come. Sit, little, late adventurer, and we’ll fill you in with all the exciting things that have happened since we saw each other last.”
“How could I resist such an enticing invitation?” Nessa clambered over the back of the sofa, settling down between them.
“I know.” Orm winked. “We’re irresistible.”
“And modest.”
Orm shrugged. “There’s no sense denying the truth.”
“So,” Nessa said, attempting to get comfortable, jostling both of them a little. The sofa was intended for two people, not three. “Jerome mentioned something about happenings?”
“Ah. Yes. The happenings.” Orm nodded thoughtfully. “And what happenings they are.”
“Well,” Nessa poked him in the arm with a smile. “Spill.” Second only to Nessa’s relief that they were safe and unharmed was her relief that they weren’t angry about her earlier outburst or her late return.
“Oi, not so fast,” Hunter interjected as Orm opened his mouth. “Where in the Nine Devils have you been?” He peered at Nessa, eyes bright. “It got dark over an hour ago.”
So much for thinking that I’ve got away scot-free…
Nessa pursed her lips, hoping an acceptable excuse would arise. She didn’t think that telling them she’d had a chance encounter with Shadow, their nemesis, would go down particularly well. Besides, Nessa was compelled to keep it a secret, reasoning with herself that she merely needed more time to contemplate all the things Shadow had said and done, to shift through all of her conflicted thoughts and emotions—emotions that only grew deeper and more complex as time went by.
Unbidden, the image of Shadow’s eyes, dark and intense, flashed in her mind, kindling unfamiliar feelings.
“I…ah.” Nessa cleared her throat. “I was exploring parts of the neighbour—”
“How strange,” Orm’s eyebrows rose in mock indignation. “I distinctly recall telling you to go to Aoife and then to come straight back?”
Nessa muttered a defensive “I was nearby the whole time.” It wasn’t strictly true, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
“Oh? So that’s why, when it started to get dark, you rushed right back?”
“I was about to return,” Nessa grumbled, the half-lie leaving her lips with relative ease. “But then I bumped into someone I recognised—” Hunter twitched beside her, a sudden spasm that sent his elbow knocking against hers, “…from the den,” she continued slowly, gazing at him, curious.
“From the den” got Hunter to relax a touch, although it looked like he had to force himself to do so. How strange…
“The den?” Hunter murmured, looking down at her with a mixture of uncertainty and surprise.
“Yep,” Nessa confirmed, nodding as she surreptitiously tried to sneak a peek around the room. There were a few familiar faces, but most of the men were strangers to her. Perfect, Nessa decided, this can work. There’s less chance of tripping over the cover story with no-one around to catch me out. “I ran into someone from the den. He recognised me. I recognised him. We started talking.”
“Oh?” Hunter shared an astonished glance with Orm. “Well, that’s good. It’s really good that you’re making friends from the den.”
Nessa shrugged. “Yeah. I guess so. But I wouldn’t say we’re friends. I’ve only talked to him once.”
“Technicalities. It will be nice for you to have someone else to talk with other than us or Jerome at the next meet up.”
“Maybe.” Nessa’s thoughts shot back to the last meet up, as they called it, and Shadow. Would he be there the next time? Why had he even been there to start with?
Nessa couldn’t help but frown, silently berating herself for not demanding an explanation from Shadow whilst she’d had the chance.
“So what was his name?” Hunter asked.
Nessa blinked owlishly. “I…uh…don’t know.”
Orm’s glass was suspended in the air just before his lips, his intention of taking a slurp momentarily forgotten. “You don’t know?”
Wishing that she had simply made up a name, Nessa nodded.
“You recognised him from the den, talked with him for a good long while, and yet you don’t know his name?”
“I’m good at remembering faces, not names. What was I meant to do, ask for it at the end? That would have been embarrassing.”
“Yeah,” Hunter mused. “That would be a bit awkward.”
“Thanks,” Nessa muttered dryly. “I’m glad you agree.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Now,” Nessa turned to Orm. “I’ve answered your questions. It’s time for you to answer mine. What are these so-called happenings you and Jerome have mentioned?”
Orm finished his drink in one go, throwing back his head. “Ah, yes,” he swiped his hand across his mouth, “the happenings. I suppose we can get into all of that if you want to.”
“I want to.”
“Fine then. But first things first. I need a refill, and you need a drink.” Orm leaned forwards, reaching out for the rounded bottle that sat on the low table in front of their sofa. Snapping it up, he
pulled free the cork and sloshed a measure of amber liquid into the glass tumbler. “That’s for you,” he handed Nessa the tumbler, “and this is for me.” He patted the bottle fondly as he settled back.
Nessa peered at her drink, sniffing it tentatively. “Is this brandy?”
“Yep. Jerome brought out the good stuff once we got back. Drink as much as you can before he remembers that he should be charging.”
“Um…” Nessa held out the tumbler to Hunter, “are you sure you don’t want this?”
Hunter flicked a matching glass tumbler that was perched precariously on the arm of the sofa, half-full with caramel-coloured liquid. “Already have one.”
“Okey-dokey.” Nessa took a sip, feeling the smooth burn cruising down her throat, settling in her stomach, warming her from the inside. “We are all beveraged up, which is always crucial, so let’s get down to business.”
Orm blinked. “Business?”
“The happenings,” Hunter supplied, shaking his head slowly in despair. “She wants to know about what happened earlier.” He looked down at Nessa. “Orm’s already had a bottle to himself. He’ll be less than useful to us by the time he gets through that one.”
“Is he ever useful?”
“Har-de-har, you two,” Orm muttered, rolling his eyes, cradling the brandy bottle in the crook of his elbow like it was a treasured newborn. “Very funny.”
“I thought so,” Hunter sniggered. “Anyway, the happenings, as we seem to be calling them, have apparently happened a couple of times before. They just haven’t been linked until now.”
“Oh.” Intriguing prologue, Nessa thought, “So the happenings have been happening for a while?”
Hunter nodded. “For a couple of months now. At first, it was all chalked up as a bit of misfortune, a handful of unfortunate accidents. However, after what we all saw this evening,” he shivered, “the truth has come to light.”
“And left us with a lot more questions than answers,” Orm added.
“I know it’s giving me very few answers and a lot of questions,” Nessa said with bemusement. “You know, seeing as I wasn’t there to see it.”
Hunter blinked. “Oh yeah. I suppose I should start at the beginning.”
“That might be helpful.”
“Well, Orm and I went down to the docks this morning, just as we were meant to, and met up with Bo and Luca, and a number of these other fine fellows.” Hunter waved a hand to the crowded room. “Our work was simple, if a bit more boring than I was expecting. We were just loading up a ship that was bound for Vasindor.”
“We weren’t even loading it up with anything particularly interesting,” Orm informed Nessa. “Just some concealed goods that were being smuggled out of the city.”
Nessa smirked. “So the mere act of smuggling concealed goods on a ship isn’t interesting enough for you?”
“I suppose it’s alright.” Orm shrugged. “But I was imagining something more cloak and dagger, something a lot more, you know, high stakes. Done under the cover of darkness, with lookouts and secret codewords and such. You know, not during the day right in front of everyone. Wasn’t very exciting.”
“What a shame.”
“I know, right?” Orm shook his head. “Here I was, expecting so much more from a criminal organisation than simply putting rum into coloured wine bottles to avoid taxes.”
“I think a bit more effort than that goes into it,” Hunter said. “Besides, they do other things than just smuggle rum. But we’re getting off subject.”
Orm grumbled something under his breath and took a swig from his bottle, sulking.
“After we finished loading the ship,” Hunter continued, settling into storytelling mode, “it was just starting to get dark, and with the last bit of light, the ship set off. We were still on the docks, cleaning up crates and stuff, when this eerie mist appeared out of nowhere.”
Nessa’s heart skipped a beat. The cold touch of trepidation crept over her. To steady her growing nerves, she took a sip of brandy, hoping that it would warm her, soothe her.
“It rolled in so fast, so suddenly; it was like it rose from the waters themselves,” Hunter was saying. “The ship was only a hundred or so yards out, but we could barely see it. Everything was fine one moment, quiet and peaceful. Then this otherworldly mist appeared and it was… It was…”
“There were things in that mist,” Orm murmured, his gaze going distant, haunted. “I could feel them, sense them. Hear them. But I couldn’t see them. They were there, and yet, somehow, they weren’t.” Orm stared at his lap, suddenly meditative and distant.
Hunter turned and leaned closer to Nessa, trying to avoid Orm hearing his next words. “As the mist rolled in, Orm got all jittery, started muttering and chanting strange shit. I don’t even know what. Couldn’t understand a word he said. Neither could a couple of guys who were standing nearby.”
“Can’t Orm tell you?” Nessa asked.
Hunter shook his head. “Every time I bring it up, he goes all odd. Kind of like how he is now: quiet and with that vague, faraway look in his eyes. Gives me the creeps.”
“It is a bit creepy,” Nessa agreed, peering at Orm from the corner of her eye. “It’s like he’s here, but not really.”
“Mmm,” Hunter picked up his glass tumbler, holding it lightly by his fingertips, twirling it gently, watching as the brandy swirled, fetching up a little whirlpool. “Orm went all batshit crazy, saying that there were things in the mist. Then all this screaming started coming from the boat. Blood curdling screams. And… And sounds I can’t even begin to describe. Inhuman sounds.” His throat worked, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he tried to suppress a tide of emotions. Nessa tucked herself against his side, chilled to the bone. The roaring fire and the brandy did nothing to dispel the frosty grip of foreboding that wrapped around her heart, its clawed talons digging in.
“As quickly as the mist appeared,” he murmured, “did it vanish, disappearing like it had never been. The boat was gone too. Nothing remained of it but a splintered mast and a handful of debris that bobbed on the water’s surface.”
“And the crew?” Nessa croaked, barely able to ask.
Wordlessly, Hunter shook his head.
“The screams…”
“The ship was close enough to the docks that even if it had run aground and sank, the crew could have easily swum ashore. But no one did. An entire crew. Gone. Just like that.”
“What…what could have done something like that?”
Hunter shrugged. “Haven’t got the faintest idea. It seems that no one does. Not really. Nothing that makes much sense.”
“You said something about this happening before?”
“Yeah.” Hunter peered over his shoulder, scanning the room. Nessa followed his gaze, her eyes locking onto Jerome standing in the far corner, surrounded by a circle of grim-faced men. “They’re still going through the ledgers, letters and who knows what else, but they’re slowly piecing everything together. At least, as much as they can at this point.”
“So they’ve already uncovered something?”
“As much as we’re able to tell, this has happened a few times before.” Hunter met Nessa’s shocked stare. “Mostly in the last couple of months.”
“And they didn’t notice anything until now? You’re telling me that they haven’t noticed entire ships disappearing?”
“They noticed,” Hunter murmured, finding her astonishment amusing. “Of course they’ve noticed entire ships missing. More accurately, they’ve noticed their shipments not turning up.”
“Oh.”
“Whatever’s happening isn’t just limited to the smugglers’ ships,” Hunter said, his eyes brightening with speculation. “It’s happened to a number of legitimate merchants, and even some well-known pirate ships.”
“Not Orm’s pirate lady friend, I hope.”
“No such luck,” Hunter sighed. “Maybe next time.”
Nessa slapped him on his upper arm. “What a thing
to say. Especially after what’s happened.”
“You chastise,” Hunter sipped from his glass tumbler, “only because you haven’t met her.”
“Well, if pirate ships are on the mist’s hit list,” Nessa muttered, “then I may never get the chance.”
“It’s not just ships that the mist’s interested in,” Hunter mused. “So there’s still a chance of her disappearing.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s not just ships being targeted, but people too.”
“People?”
Hunter nodded. “It’s hard to come up with clear numbers. Ships are a little easier to keep track of, thanks to dock records and such. But even so, an exact number is still a tricky thing to pinpoint, what with some sinking due to incompetent crews or being stolen. People, as it turns out, are near on impossible to monitor. People vanish all the time without a trace.”
“If that’s the case,” Nessa frowned, disturbed by the idea that the mist, or whatever lurked within it, was not only destroying ships, but stealing people too, “how do you know it’s not just ships that are disappearing?”
“Because of who has disappeared.”
Nessa sagged back against the tired sofa, knowing that Hunter was enjoying himself more than he really should be. He had a mystery to solve and a steady supply of alcohol. Nessa could tell that she was in for another long night filled with wild speculations and far-fetched stories.
Sigh.
∞∞∞
Listening with scepticism, Nessa waited for Hunter to finish with his narrative. As an eyewitness, Hunter knew without a doubt that something sinister had lurked within the mist, something evil and bloodthirsty. Nessa, though, couldn’t help but be doubtful. At least, she was to start with. Yes, she’d been in the mist too. She had experienced the unsettling awareness of being followed, of being watched. But she hadn’t vanished, hadn’t disappeared alongside the mist as it had sunk into the ground, called back to whatever haunting abyss it had surely been summoned from.
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