Chapter 150
Worry
Barnacle-eyes
Chance of Mutiny: 11%
Why did my chance of mutiny jump 4%, especially since we’ve been anchored? It was always at sea that it rose. How unusual. It did rise and fall, like the tide, from time to time. Maybe it was just that.
Just to make sure, I skipped along my Hand-O’War. I had to dodge all the fireflies that had come from the woods. I checked on napping goblins, and said “Hello, hello,” to goblins that swabbed the deck. Everyone seemed happy. I even checked both levels below and helped some goblins roll some barrels.
I later burst into my deckhouse, because I had yet to check it for goblins. My Commodores were inside, and some were most of my Captains. Even temporary Captain Boggo.
“Admiral, we have worries to share,” said Pinky-chew.
“Worries?” I said. “As in oh-no worries, or uh-oh worries?”
“Why are we still here?” said Spickle-spack.
It was an often type of question, and I didn’t mind answering it over and over. “This is where Slime-tooth is. Hawkin is here too, and I need to meet with Ogo.”
“My goblins are worried about Gloom-glower,” said Pinky-chew.
That was definitely an uh-oh worry. “What has he done?”
“My goblins are very uneasy next to such a huge fleet. Gloom-glower could swarm us in minutes.”
“Yeah,” said Spickle-spack. “We could be like web in a spider’s butt. Trapped.”
“Spickle-spack, do your goblins feel that way too?” I said. “Cause that’s not good.”
“Yes, Admiral.”
“What about the rest of you?”
Stolen novel; please report.
“All my snots are nervous,” chirped Croak-crackle.
“Same on my ship!” burped Belch-much.
“Mine too,” whined Chin-smear.
“And mine too,” mumbled Hum-numb.
“What about you?” I asked Though-I-Am. “Even under your command?”
“They’ve mentioned it,” she said.
“Thank you all for coming to me, but I don’t think Gloom-glower will attack.”
Gabby tugged on my dress. “Makes me nervous too, please thank you.”
Pinky-chew approached the porthole which faced north. “Take a look, Admiral.”
With a wad of spit, the porthole latch swung open without a creak. There were at least a thousand ships. Maybe fewer since I’d last seen the fleet. Constant chutes of waterfalls fell from each one. Goblins on top of goblins rushed to the taffrails to empty their bailing buckets. The sound of all that water hitting the sea was almost deafening, but it was a distant sort of deafening, like rumbling thunder not quite overhead. The goblins reminded me of fleas in a jar. Their cavorting and leaping spackled the air above each ship.
Gloom-glower’s dark green flags snapped in the winds. The overcast sky darkened their green hues. Most sloops had a single harpoon turret, and each one had a team of goblins polishing the barbs.
Boggo cleared his throat. “I’ve heard lots of whispering, Admiral. They’re scared of his ships. You gotta take a closer look.”
I whipped out my monoscope with the cracked lens and put my blinking eye through it. Ignoring the thousands of giant fireflies, I peered at Gloom-glower’s ships. I could see sharp yellow teeth and cracked fingernails; and when I squinted, I could see ear hairs. It was the first time I realized how many holes each ship had. I could see goblins through the mixed materials. The figureheads took my breath away, like I’d been punched in the gut. EVery single sloop had a bundle of corpses for figureheads. Green limbs twitched among the bones. Crow’s flew in halos around the bodies and skeletons. When the crows swooped altogether, it looked like a shroud was dropping.
Pinky-chew’s voice went soft. “…It’s terrible, Admiral. And I have to see them like that whenever they pass near.”
Oh poor, poor goblins… I lowered the monoscope and dropped my forehead onto the sill of the porthole. My heart felt as if it sighed, and I had to sigh big with it. I dragged myself to the chair at the table and slumped.
“But we can’t leave yet,” I said. “I need to see Slime-tooth again. He hasn’t been on Home Camp since that one time, and he was sleeping really deeply.”
A sharp quiet rang. My snots fidgeted and chewed their lips. Boggo scratched behind an ear. Someone’s belly rumbled.
“So…who’s hungry?” I said.
I brought out a wedge of blue cheese from my inventory, and slid it across the table. It left a marbled smear in its wake. I frowned when none of my goblins went for the cheese. Boggo was the only one. He scrambled up the table leg, dashed to the cheese, and scooped a big armful. Then he leapt to the floor with a thunk, ran along the wall, and disappeared behind barrels.
I pushed the wedge closer to my goblins, but they shrank back. Even Pinky-chew seemed nervous. Some of my goblins turned sideways.
What was going on? When had a single goblin ever turned down even a crumb of cheese? And why did my chance of mutiny suddenly rise to 12%? …Oh, Peg-tooth…