by Travis Bughi
Emily rubbed her arms as she followed Priscila across the deck toward Captain Mosley. He was still at his post, the helm, guiding the ship with the stern look of a man who’d just accomplished a daring feat. On their way, Emily looked back at the merman who was still holding steady to the ropes that had been tied for him. He met her gaze, and she felt her heart skip. A moment later, she tripped on an outstretched rope and fell on her face.
“You okay?” Priscila asked as Emily jumped up quickly.
“Oh, yeah, fine,” she stuttered.
Stupid, she thought, get it together! She felt her cheeks burn fiercely, both from pain and embarrassment, and looked down to hide them behind her hair. Priscila gave her a few questioning blinks but didn’t say anything else. She continued walking, and Emily followed, rubbing her nose and keeping her eyes down.
They reached Captain Mosley who gave both ladies a broad smile.
“Ah! There you two are!” he called out. “Glad to see you both made it through alright.”
He gave a slight nod and a wink, neither of which were returned.
“Hello, Captain,” Priscila hailed.
“What brings you up here, love?” Mosley asked.
His voice was a tad high pitched for his usual, casual speech. It seemed he knew full well that he was in trouble.
“You know why I’m here,” Priscila pressed. “I’m here to finish the conversation we were having before you ordered me below. Why exactly was I confined? That was a tough storm, and we hit it fast. There was a lot of work to do, and I could have helped. You know that!”
“My dear,” Mosley’s eyes were fixated on a point just off the port bow, “I didn’t know you were so passionate about working in a storm.”
“I’m not,” she admitted, “but you called me out in front of the rest of the crew. In front of the damned crew, Captain! Did you not see how they looked at me? You ever wonder why there are so few women pirates? It’s because of crap like that, Captain! Treating me like I’m some sort of stiff-legged farmer just because I’m a woman. I’ve had to put up with this kind of kraken crap all my life, and I’m getting damned tired of it. I don’t mind taking orders, but calling me out like that ain’t right, see? I’m a pirate, and just because I’m a woman—”
“Alright, alright!” Mosley called out, breaking eye contact with the ocean to meet Priscila’s gaze. “That’s enough. I heard you. I got it, truly. Now, love, will you at least hear me?”
Priscila had worked herself into quite a rage, but she gained enough control to listen. She folded her arms, cocked her head, and tilted her hips. Emily, feeling a bit awkward for reasons she didn’t quite know, mimicked the actions.
“Alright then, good,” Mosley sighed in relief. “Now, my dear, you out of all these scoundrels here ought to know that I didn’t call you out because you’re a woman. Well, I did, but I didn’t do it because I didn’t think you could help. I know you could have helped, and if I’d had more time, I would have pulled you off to the side and done it more private like, you hear? But I didn’t. I had a storm headed for me ship, and I needed both you and Emily in a safe place. You happy now? I said it. I wanted to protect you. That storm was lousy rough, and I didn’t want nothing happening to either of you. Honest boots, love, I’m sorry.”
Priscila narrowed her eyes at the Captain, but he didn’t see because he’d turned his attention back to the ocean midway through his explanation. A moment passed between them as Mosley’s testimony was weighed.
“And why are you protecting us?” she asked finally.
“Just some gentlemanly crap I ought to get over,” Mosley replied flatly. “It seems to be getting me into a lot of trouble lately. So now, listen. Since you’re so interested in helping out the crew and being treated like the others, get down there and help those lads hoist the sail back up. We’ll be sailing strong all through the night to get to those leviathans, so I want it up now.”
Mosley added direction to his words by pointing down to the main deck. The sails had been hauled up through the hatch, and the men were gathered around them now, preparing to rig them up against the masts. Priscila reluctantly turned her head towards the scene.
“Hurry now, love,” he said. “We’re running out of daylight.”
Priscila moseyed off with a sigh, but once she reached the stairs she picked up her pace. They really were running out of daylight and needed to get those sails up quickly. As Emily watched her leave, her eyes wandered to the merman and saw that he was being assisted by a few of the pirates over to a rope they had dangling off the side of the ship.
“And what do you need, love?” Mosley asked.
Emily took a sharp intake of air as she realized her mind had drifted again. She swept her eyes back to Mosley and tried to put her emotions into words.
“I need to talk to you about Carlito,” she said.
As she spoke his name, Carlito dragged his ugly body out from the depths of the hull. He looked up toward the Captain, but when he saw her, he gave her a smile and wink. She felt her lip curl in disgust and looked away.
“Well?” Mosley asked, obviously staring out at the horizon. “What is it?”
“Sorry,” Emily turned back. “I just can’t take it anymore. I came here to talk to you about Carlito because he’s, um, well . . . bothering me.”
“Bothering you?” Mosley raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Emily nodded, striking the stutters from her speech. “It’s serious, and it’s been going on for a while now. I probably should have brought it up to you sooner, but I didn’t want to upset anyone, I guess. Carlito, he just, he won’t leave me alone. No matter what I say, it’s like he just doesn’t understand when I tell him to back off.”
“I see,” Mosley nodded.
“It’s getting worse,” Emily pressed. “While I was in the hold this morning, he went through my pack! I caught him in the middle of it when I returned to my room. He was pulling out personal letters of mine and reading them. It’s like he has no respect at all! I don’t see him treat anyone else this way. Why is he harassing me? It’s getting to the point where I have trouble falling asleep at night if Priscila isn’t in the room with me.”
Mosley sighed deeply but kept his eyes fastened to the seas.
“I can see this is bothering you,” he said, “but what do you want me to do about it?”
“What do I want you to do about it?” Emily repeated, exasperated. “I want you to make him stop! That’s what I want. You’re the Captain, for the angels’ sake!”
Mosley nodded once more, and Emily was beginning to feel he did that more out of habit than as a sign of understanding. She almost wanted to demand he stop nodding and just tell her he’d take care of it. She was so close to Savara, and from there, she could finish her journey to Juatwa. If she could just get some peace for these last few days, it would be much appreciated.
“Well, first off,” Mosley started, “Carlito is going to be up on the deck with me tonight. So, don’t you be troubled when you try to catch some sleep. Also, while he’s up here helping me, I’ll talk to him. Got it? I’ll let him know to lay off you or I’ll, eh, hmm. I haven’t threatened an immortal before. Maybe I’ll, bah! I’ll think of something. Anyway, I’ll talk to him, okay love?”
“Thank you,” Emily sighed.
As she turned to leave, Mosley cleared his throat. She looked back at him.
“Did you end up needing that bucket?” he asked.
“No,” she said, voice flat.
Mosley frowned and gave his head a quick shake.
“Odd as a leviathan, girl. I swear, you’ve got guts of iron.”
“Eh, something like that,” she agreed.
Chapter 6
Emily was able to sleep that night.
Honestly, the part about her having trouble sleeping was a bit of an exaggeration. For some reason, specific examples of Carlito’s behavior beyond that morning’s activity had been hard to conjure at that moment in front of Mosley. Despite her
growing hatred for Carlito’s soul, she did not fear him.
He was not the first immortal she’d encountered, and in a world filled with so many dangerous creatures, immortals weren’t even the most terrifying things she’d seen. The day before boarding The Greedy Barnacle, Emily had dealt the killing blow to a vampire. In the Forest of Angor, Emily had survived two encounters with bugbears and an entire night of being hunted by werewolves. This wasn’t normal by any means. Her recent life was full of unique experiences. She’d learned the elven skill of firing two arrows at once, had a gunslinger for an older brother, and was guided by the now-dead hand of an angel. She’d lived more fully in the past year than she’d ever expected to in her entire life, and all with only one regret: that she couldn’t stop her grandmother from being murdered. But even that moment felt like a lifetime ago. Neither the emotional scar in her heart nor the physical scar on her leg hurt anymore, but their presence could still be felt.
When she awoke in the morning, she ran a finger down the mark on her leg, tracing the black, dead flesh that felt rough and cold, wondering why it never warmed like the rest of her body.
Priscila came into the room soon thereafter. She’d been out assisting all night long and was none too happy about it. Sailing at night could be an easy time, but because they were following a storm, the waves were rough, and there was no light to warn the crew when a crash of cold, salty water was coming.
Priscila flopped onto her bed and, in a voice muffled by sheets, told Emily that the Captain wanted to see her. Emily finished putting on her studded leather skirt and vest, took her knife from under her pillow and sheathed it, and then went to obey the orders given to her. She found Mosley still at the helm, guiding his vessel ever towards a profitable horizon.
He looked exhausted.
“Ah, good, there’s one of you,” he said.
Emily walked up to her Captain.
“And,” he yawned, “there’s the other.”
Emily looked back to see Lonzo coming up the stairs. He gave a wink, which Mosley returned with a nod.
“Good, good,” Mosley muttered. “Here, love, take the wheel. Lonzo, watch her, train her. You know the deal. I’m going to my cabin. I don’t want to be disturbed none neither.”
“Yes, sir,” they both replied.
Mosley grumbled off, stumbled more than walked down the stairs, and cursed loudly before slamming his cabin door shut behind him.
“Best walk lightly now,” Lonzo advised, pointing to their feet. “Captain ain’t a heavy sleeper, and he’s entitled to a bit of courtesy in my opinion.”
“I agree,” Emily replied, taking up the helm in both hands. “Do you have any idea where we’re headed?”
“I spoke to one of the night mates before he passed out,” Lonzo said. “They been following the merman all night, fighting against the storm to make headway to at least one leviathan. According to the merman, if we keep this up, we ought to catch one this afternoon.”
“The merman isn’t tired? Don’t merfolk need sleep, too?”
“Damn bugger slept during the storm,” Lonzo scoffed. “Ain’t like he was worried about drowning. Said the rocking put him to sleep and he was well rested. My guess is that he’ll run out of powder right when we reach the leviathans, which will be just the excuse he needs to skedaddle. Not that he’s obligated to help us, but that’ll prevent the Captain from formally asking him. I’d even bet on it.”
The crew shifted quickly about the vessel as it kept on its target: the merman. He was up ahead, swimming under the waves but popping up every so often to look back. Emily was surprised he was still going strong. She expected the merfolk to be excellent swimmers, but nothing alive should have the stamina of the wind. Surely he’d tire soon, or perhaps the weather would continue to favor him. The Greedy Barnacle was sailing into the wind, so it had to fight to stay on course, giving its guide a steady supply of rejuvenating breaks.
As they traveled on, Emily noted that the storm they’d traveled through must have finally died out, or perhaps moved on. It was difficult for her to tell which, but the either way, the skies were now blissfully clear. The sun was bright and intense with hardly a cloud to stand against it, warming her skin, which then cooled easily in the slight breeze. It was wonderful.
Such a morning brought only one real trouble. Although the sun was still on the rise, the churning waves caught the light at just the right angle to send flashes of bright white into Emily’s eyes. She squinted into the distance and blinked often. This, coupled with the wind, caused her eyes to tear up.
“Still gets to you, eh?” Lonzo asked.
Emily rubbed her eyes, breathed deeply, and then looked up at Lonzo to find him staring directly out into the sea. His eyes were always narrowed and creased so they looked almost closed, and when Emily had first met him, she’d thought it was from old age. Now she knew that it was from a long life of looking at this very scene.
“Yes, and it probably will for a long while,” she replied.
“Aye, that it will, lass,” Lonzo admitted.
Noticing the ship’s bow beginning to push off course, Emily gave the wheel in her hand a good push. The rudder it controlled pushed back with the water’s assistance, and Emily steadied her legs and put her back into it. Although the skies were clear, the water was still rough from the storm’s passing, and The Greedy Barnacle did not glide as gracefully as it could.
“At least you’re getting the hang of that,” Lonzo said.
Emily smiled and thanked him. Lonzo nodded and looked sidelong at the ship’s railings. The old man was never very good at staying idle.
“Tell me about the leviathans,” Emily said suddenly.
“What?” Lonzo turned back to look at her. “Again?”
“My memory is hazy,” she shrugged. “I can’t remember.”
“Heh, liar,” he scoffed. “You learn too quickly to forget so easily. But alright then, ain’t like I got nothing better to do. Captain did say to train you and all, didn’t he?”
“Yes, please,” Emily answered, watching her politeness work its charm on the pirate.
“Leviathans are the lifeblood of the sea,” Lonzo started after another sigh. “The merfolk and naga hunt them, the hydras eat them, and the krakens gorge on them. Not to mention all the hunting us humans do; if it were any other beast, I swear there’d be none left. But leviathans have all the plant life of the ocean to eat off of, and they thrive well because of it. Like the ocean, leviathans are not to be underestimated.
“They travel in groups, making them pretty easy to spot from a distance. When they’re born, they’re alive, swimming, and about the size of a launch. They can get as big as this here vessel, too, though they usually die before that. The bigger they get, the slower they are, which makes them easier to catch.
“As far as what they look like, well it’s a bit odd. Their bodies are like one long slab of meat and bone, with a big, upright tail in the back and a huge mouth up front. They got fins about as big as you but tiny compared to the rest of the thing. They got big, round eyes, too, that are on either side of their head and kind of pop out a little.”
“Sounds like a behemoth without legs, sort of,” Emily responded. “What else?”
“Oh, I ain’t even to the good part yet. You’d think something that big would be dangerous enough, but no. These things, they got one more trick up their sleeves. Leviathan blood runs hot, like the fires of a forge. It runs so hot that the seas around them boil. That’s one of the reasons they travel in groups, see, because the water will literally cook anything foolish enough to get close to them. Get more than few leviathans together, and you can see the steam coming off the water like their own personal fog.
“And that’s why we have to get one alone, see. If we get one separated, the water ain’t so bad. We’ll send some men out on the launch with harpoons and spears, and they’ll skewer the beast until it bleeds out. If the men are lucky, they’ll only come back with a few red marks where the
y got burned. Once it’s dead, the blood cools quickly, and we’ll lash the beast to the ship and cut it open here and now. Should be some fine meat for us all, and hopefully plenty left over to turn some profit in one of Savara’s ports.”
“And if we’re unlucky?” Emily asked.
“Eh, could be a lot of things. It could smash or capsize the launch, boil the men alive in the ocean around it while it eats them, or, worse yet, it might even get brave enough to attack the ship, but I’ve yet to see that. You only hear about that kind of thing in stories.”
Emily blinked and tightened her grip on the wheel. She looked out at the merman again and began to worry for his safety.
“Sounds horrible,” she said.
“It is,” Lonzo nodded, “but don’t you worry none. The stories about attacking the ship are all hogwash, I’m telling you. How can there be stories? There wouldn’t be any survivors! Ha!”
Emily missed the humor. Lonzo frowned and turned his chest towards her before lifting up his shirt. With a bony finger, he traced a faint outline across his grey hairs. When Emily looked, she saw a blob of slightly lighter skin that stretched from his wrinkled neck to his scrawny stomach.
“See that?” he asked. “That’s from a leviathan when I was younger. Not the water, no; this is from his blood. As I stabbed the monster good, his blood shot out and sprayed me good. It seared me so quickly that I didn’t even notice at first, but when I got back and they had to peel the burned flesh off. Oooohhhh! Let me tell you, I know no greater pain than that. I couldn’t move for months.”