Captain Black Shadow

by Janina Franck

  “Hey,” Griffin finally interrupted him. The Klabauter-mann didn’t react at all, and instead focused more intently on a particular blemish, rubbing at it furiously with his cloth.

  “Hey, uh, Klabautermann,” Griffin tried again, stepping closer, reaching out with one hand. As though he had sensed an impending threat to his pride and joy, the Klabautermann shot up and hissed at him.

  “Handsss off!”

  Griffin stumbled back, surprised by the violent reaction to his approach.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  The Klabautermann’s expression softened.

  “It’sss fine. What did you want?”

  “Well,” Griffin said, gingerly pulling out the book, and opened it to the right page. “Could you take a look at this?”

  He held it out to the Klabautermann, who skimmed over the passage Griffin was pointing to.

  “Okay, sssso what about it?” the Klabautermann asked.

  “Can you do it?” Griffin pressed excitedly. “Are you able to make a ship fly?”

  The Klabautermann looked at him, shaking his head in disbelief and pity, before turning his attention back to his cannons.

  “You idiot. Do you really sssssink sssssat I know how to make a ssssship fly jusssst like sssat? Don’t you ssssink I would’ve done it to the Bat a long time ago if I did?”

  Of course. Why hadn’t Griffin thought of that?

  “Oh yeah, silly me. Sorry for the interruption, I’ll go get started on dinner,” he said quietly and walked out, slowly. After closing the door, he heaved a deep sigh. It had been too good to be true.

  A few days later, Griffin’s cleaning of the galley was interrupted by Ryo bolting, giggling, into the kitchen. He slammed the door shut behind him and hid below the porthole. He waved Griffin over to have a look at to deck.

  The Klabautermann was hopping around, his face an expression of fury.

  “I sssswear when I get my teeth in you, you’ll wissshh you’d only met a sssshark!” he screamed before disappearing below.

  Griffin sighed.

  “What did you do?” he asked, unimpressed.

  Ryo was still giggling. When he calmed down enough, he shared his secret.

  “I swapped all his cannons with each other. Wanted to see if he’d notice. I knew he’d be annoyed, but this is better than anything I imagined! I love this guy! I wish we had more of him.”

  With that, Ryo bounded away again in search of some more entertainment, or perhaps to tell Skip and Maco about his newest prank.

  Griffin shook his head in dismay. He knew that Ryo’s actions weren’t malicious, but sometimes his jokes went a little too far. Even Ryo should know better than to mess with the Klabautermann’s cannons. But somehow, Ryo’s last sentence wouldn’t leave Griffin’s mind. Why weren’t there more Klabautermann? After all, a Klabautermann was the personification of a ship’s soul, so in theory, shouldn’t there be one for every ship in existence? Yet their kind appeared to be exceedingly rare. Even as a shipwright’s son, Griffin had never come into contact with another one before. Why was that?

  Contemplating the riddle, Griffin found himself wandering around the ship. He stopped and sat down when he saw the Klabautermann in the process of rearranging his five cannons. The little blue man was pedantic about it. He scrutinized every inch and moved them again if they weren’t exactly right. He was so caught up in it that he didn’t even notice Griffin watching him.

  It took Griffin a while to realize that he wasn’t the only observer. Robert Ference’s furious scribbling could be heard even with the sound of the waves lapping the hull and the scraping of the cannons being moved across the floor. At first, Griffin chose to ignore him, but after a few minutes, curiosity got the better of him. He walked over to Ference and peered over his shoulder to see what he was working on. The writing was illegible. In fact, Griffin wasn’t certain it was writing at all. For all he knew, they might just be wiggly lines at uneven intervals. And yet, the longer he stared at the spreading ink blackening the pages, the more he fancied he could make out patterns resembling letters.

  “Don’t strain your eyes,” Ference said. He laid his pen down. It was one of the expensive kinds the Marine used, one of those where you didn’t need an extra inkwell because it was stored inside the pen somehow. “An academic’s personal writing can never be read by anyone else. It would make stealing research far too simple a task.”

  Ference stood up and motioned for Griffin to follow him. While normally Griffin preferred to keep his distance from the man, he now felt too curious not to oblige, so he trotted after him to the library. Ference took a seat.

  “So, tell me everything you know about the Klabauter-mann,” Ference demanded. “His habits, what he likes to eat, how long he’s been on this ship, everything. Have you ever seen him sleep?”

  His eyes twinkled with excitement. Griffin felt as though he were under interrogation. He knew nothing about the little blue man. What was he supposed to say?

  “He… loves his cannons?” he suggested. “Ryo gets on his nerves easily. He threatens people a lot, but he never actually goes through with any of it. So far, he’s liked everything I’ve cooked. Apart from clams; he hates those.”

  Ference nodded at everything Griffin said, gradually leaning closer and closer to him. Griffin found himself inching farther and farther away. Seeing the old man this excited was not only weird, but creepy.

  “Have you ever seen him leave the ship of his own free will?” Ference asked.

  Griffin reflected for a moment.

  “I… Only once. When we got to the Falicia Islands,” Griffin realized.

  Ference nodded, satisfied, and scribbled more things into his book while Griffin watched him write.

  “Ference…”

  The old man grunted, still moving his pen at immense speed.

  “Do you know why there are so few Klabautermann? I mean, them being the soul of a ship, shouldn’t there be many more?” Griffin asked. He prepared himself to be called an “insolent idiot” or “uncultured brat,” but no insults came.

  “It’s a good question,” Ference said instead. His tone was level, lined with only a hint of his usual arrogance. “It’s true that they are the souls of ships, but it’s a little different to common belief. I did research on them when I was younger, so I know a thing or two, but since I never had a chance to meet one myself, I could never verify my hypotheses, so I had to stop. You see, every ship has an ephemeral soul. It strengthens the hull and improves the speed if the ship is chased. It’s things like those, things we don’t even notice, because they seem so normal or accidental.”

  “So… The Klabautermann really is the Bat’s soul? Is that why he never leaves her?” Griffin asked, caught up in the fascination Ference emanated.

  Ference shook his head.

  “No. The soul is bodiless. And the reason why he never leaves is probably because Klabautermann generally don’t like dry land.”

  “But you said that they’re the souls of ships, but he clearly has a body of his own. That doesn’t make any sense,” Griffin complained.

  Ference’s eye twitched. He was getting annoyed.

  “If you would wait just a moment, I would explain it. Patience is a virtue and knowledge is a gift, so be grateful I’m sharing mine with you,” he chided the boy, the level of arrogance in his voice rising. Griffin thought it wise to keep quiet.

  “The soul of a ship is ephemeral because it already has a body: the ship itself,” Ference continued. “But, sometimes the ship wants to become a part of the crew. Not just the vessel and silent companion, but a person in their own right. It can have other reasons as well, of course – looking at your one, I’d say he wanted to play with cannons – but either way, there is a desire to have a proper body. After that desire is born, it grows stronger and stronger until the ship is no longer able to contain it, and it is released. That is the moment a Klabautermann comes into exis
tence and the ship loses its soul. Of course, that means the vessel left behind is now empty and therefore only some wood and rope bound together. Those ships soon fall apart and sink, while the Klabautermann lives on.”

  “I had no idea,” Griffin mumbled.

  Ference nodded, satisfied.

  “Of course you didn’t. Not everyone can collect as much wisdom as me. You’ll never get to my level, but you’re making an effort at least. Don’t let it get to your head, though. Just because you know a thing or two more now, doesn’t mean you’re clever.”

  There it was. The arrogance and insults. However, right now, Griffin wasn’t bothered by them.

  “So how come there are so few now, when there used to be so many in the past?” Griffin asked. “Aren’t they supposed to be basically immortal?”

  “Yes. They can be killed, sure, but other than that, they live on forever. The only way I can explain it is that they were hunted. Someone didn’t like having them around, so they killed any they could find. They don’t exactly come into being often, so I’d say in all of Jianlah, there may be less than half a dozen Klabautermann left alive. In any case, go make food; I’m hungry. And it had better not be soup or stew!”

  CHAPTER 13

  "We’re getting pretty close to the Veil, don’t you think?” Skip whispered to Griffin at dinner a few weeks after the escape.

  Griffin nodded. It had been close enough to see for a few days now. Like a wall of grey, dusty sand or ash, it rose from the ocean, high into the sky, ready to swallow anyone who dared approach. It was rather unsettling. It was like a sea monster, lurking, waiting for them to come closer so it could snatch them from the water.

  Despite having dreamed all his life about being this close to the Veil, now that he was, Griffin would very much like to get away from it again. There was something infinite about it that didn’t sit well with him. Even at night during his watch, he was able to clearly distinguish it, glittering and glowing in the moonlight. As far as he was concerned, as long as they still didn’t have a way to get safely through the Veil, they had no business being so close to it.

  Unfortunately, Selene thought otherwise.

  She mustered her crew.

  “There’s an island with a merchant port nearby, Gyan. It’s the only port anywhere near here. Any volunteers?”

  Her gaze fixed itself on Griffin, who made himself as small as he could, wishing she would look at anyone else.

  “I would like to go, if you do not mind.”

  Griffin looked up in surprise at his unexpected savior. Confidently, Ference returned Selene’s critical gaze.

  After a moment, she nodded.

  “Alright, then that’s settled. Griffin will write you a list of the things we need. Now: to the plan.”

  At a sign from Selene, Balthasar unrolled a map.

  “Here.” She pointed at an island a few days’ journey north. “Ference and Balthasar are sure that the compass is on this island, Ignya. We’ll need to get inside the volcano at the center. At least three men will stay with the Bat. Think about whether you’d rather come along or stay on the ship. Let me know and I will give you my final decision in three nights.”

  She paused to let her words sink in.

  “Tomorrow, after Ference comes back with the provisions, you will be given leave for the evening. We’re far enough from any Marine Corps posts, but stay alert either way. The ship will remain in a safe bay, but if there is any sign of suspicious activity, we will sail on to the other side of Gyan, where we will wait for as long as possible. That’s all.”

  The men cheered at the prospect of having shore leave for a night. Ryo was already marveling at the beautiful women the island may have to offer, while Skip and Maco were looking forward to a good bar brawl.

  Griffin kept casting sidelong glances at Ference. Eventually, he asked, “Why do you want go on that island? What’s so special about it?”

  Griffin was convinced by now that everything Ference did was for a specific and calculated reason. He did not believe that the old man could possibly want to go ashore for simple pleasure or a sense of duty. It didn’t seem like him.

  Ference grinned briefly at Griffin.

  “You really are a smart one, after all. I was born on Gyan, but I have not been there in fifty years. I would like to see if anybody I knew is still alive,” he said drily and without real emotion.

  Griffin didn’t doubt for a second that Ference merely wanted to see if he had outlived anyone out of curiosity. He couldn’t imagine the man missing anyone or wanting to catch up on the “good old times,” but he decided to keep his thoughts to himself and went back to the galley to determine what exactly they needed to stock up on.

  The next morning, Griffin and Skip were ordered to scrub the deck. Skip grumbled about it, but that wasn’t unusual. Griffin didn’t mind too much. They didn’t take long to clean. It even rained for the first hour, so a lot of dirt was washed off already. They were finished before they ever reached Gyan.

  Griffin wordlessly handed his list to Ference as the man climbed onto Ayalon. That Ference was being trusted with this task seemed like a sign that he was there to stay, much to Griffin’s dismay. He didn’t understand why the old man was still on board with them. What did he have to gain from it?

  That being said, Griffin realized most of the crew probably didn’t understand why he himself was traveling with them, either.

  Sighing, he returned to the galley to prepare lunch. He was in the process of chopping vegetables when Selene slammed the door open. Alarmed, Griffin searched behind her for signs of an attack.

  “I’m cooking today. You will stay right here, not say a word and not tell anyone, understood?” she demanded.

  Griffin nodded, slightly confused, stepping back from the working space. Selene closed the door and shoved past him. She wanted to cook? He exchanged a worried glance with Aestiva. He could only hope that Selene wouldn’t poison everyone. Griffin thought back to her attempts at cooking when they had been stranded. It didn’t bode well. At least here he could be certain that the ingredients were non-lethal.

  “What were you making?” Selene asked scrutinizing the preparations Griffin had made so far.

  “Stew. Ference doesn’t like it, but since he’s not on the ship for this meal, I figured it’d be okay.”

  Selene nodded thoughtfully.

  “I’ll take over. Sit over there.”

  Without protest, Griffin did as ordered, watching her work. The more she did, the more she concentrated and forgot to guard her expression. Griffin could see every bit of confusion, insecurity and uncertainty on her face, but also the pleasure she was taking in this new experience. Selene was clearly enjoying herself, even though it was obvious that she had no idea what she was doing.

  “How do I start this?” Selene pulled him from his thoughts.

  She pointed at the hearth. Griffin showed her how and then let her get back to it. He still didn’t understand her. She had lived her entire life on a ship, and yet somehow, she had never learned to cook. He wondered if he would ever really know what was going on in her mind.

  Then he saw her grab a container of white powder.

  “No, don’t u–”

  Her vicious gaze silenced him. With dread, he watched her pour far too much of the white substance into the pot and continue stirring.

  “Done!” she declared proudly a few minutes later.

  She had Griffin carry her stew to the mess, where everyone had gathered already. They each had only one spoonful before staring at Griffin in disbelief.

  “What have you done?” cried Ryo.

  “Are you trying to poissson usss?” the Klabautermann hissed suspiciously.

  “It seems that this dish is not up to your usual standard of deliciousness. What has happened?” Joe asked calmly.

  Griffin chuckled nervously when Selene’s hurt, but nevertheless fiery, gaze struck him.

  “Uh… I, heh
, I, um… heh heh, I must’ve, sort of, maybe, probably, mixed up the salt and the sugar…?”

  None of his friends could believe that he would make a mistake such as that, but they accepted his excuse and went back to eating.

  “Well, I guess at least it’s edible and not too horrible,” Skip said happily. “But your next meal better be flawless!”

  Griffin nodded, relieved. He would make them the best dinner he could. As long as Selene didn’t demand to take over again…

  He glanced over to her. She was staring down at her dinner and Griffin couldn’t quite make out her expression. It was likely the same stoic, unreadable face she always wore, but he felt a little sorry for her. Selene would probably stab him if she ever knew.

  Afterward, while Griffin was doing the washing up, he half-expected Selene to show up again at any time. But of course, she didn’t. Instead, Aestiva did her best to help by licking all the plates as clean as she could before she allowed Griffin to wash them.

  Everything was so calm… Griffin wasn’t used to it. It made him feel a little uneasy. Most of the crew had lain down to take an afternoon nap since they didn’t have anything else they needed to do. The rest were playing cards. It was colder here than on the Falicia Islands, so they all stayed below deck. The sky was covered by clouds and Skip had mentioned earlier that it was likely going to rain again later today. Tempest was already over. Griffin had barely noticed it. Aside from some strong winds and the one major storm, he hadn’t experienced many signs of it.

  Once Griffin had finished washing up, he stood around in the galley for a moment, not really sure what to do. It was strange. There was always something to do on board, but he couldn’t think of anything right now. So… How should he pass the time until he had to make dinner?

  Aestiva answered for him. She rubbed up against his legs and tried to push him toward the back of the galley, where there were some blankets and sacks filled with rice. The cat mewled intently, and Griffin obeyed. He lay down, leaning against one of the sacks, with Aestiva curled up on his stomach as usual.