Chapter 26: Easy Money

“No such thing as free, is there?”

-Unknown

Quintilla led the others down a dirt trail, revolver drawn and ready. Yin jumped from tree to tree, keeping her sharp ears trained for any sign of lakata.

“I would like it to be known that I object to this plan,” Kurko said.

“Oh please, quit your whining,” Quintilla said. “You know who you sound like? Taira. The two of you should do some knitting together once we’re back on the ship.”

“Knitting is fun. It is a time-honored custom of my—”

“Valeria’s tits, I was joking. Now I know which one of us is wearing the pants here.”

The vegetation grew wilder as they approached what Quintilla assumed was the center of the island. Stalky nimba trees grew tall in the dry soil, clustered together to obscure vision. Vines hung low, brushing their heads and shoulders like dead hands. The sweet stench of rot lingered in the air.

Quintilla caught a glimpse of something white through the undergrowth. She bent down and picked up what was evidently a human jawbone.

“Charming,” she muttered. She threw away the bone and wiped her hands on her shirt.

“Once the lakata are dead, perhaps this place can be put to rest,” Kurko said. “Settlers could make a life here.”

“You’re right,” Quintilla said, rising. “Governor might pay us extra for that.” She shot her first mate a wink and carried on.

Yin hung down from a tree, one leg hooked over a branch. “Captain,” she whispered, “I think we’ve found ‘em.”

“How many?” Quintilla asked.

“I dunno. A lot. More than I could count quickly.”

“So… more than three?”

“Ha ha, very fucking mature, captain. I’ll have you know, I can actually count to a thousand. Wanna hear? One, two, three, four, five—”

“Oh, come now. Tell me about these lakata you saw.”

“Six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven…”

Quintilla made a placating gesture. “Alright, I get it. I’m sorry. Just do your job, okay?”

Yin grinned. “Aye aye, captain.”

She contorted herself back up into the tree crown. There was silence for a minute, broken only by muffled whispers from the tree as Yin counted to herself. She dropped back down with a triumphant smile.

“Fifteen,” she said.

“Quite a few,” Kurko noted.

“We’ve got range on them,” Quintilla said. “We can handle it. Any sign of that demon?”

“I think so? They were, like, worshipping something. This big nasty snake thing. I didn’t want to look at it, on account of it being so gross, but I guess it seemed demonic enough. Had these evil little eyes, you know?”

Quintilla nodded. “That sounds about right. How big?”

“Big as a rumbler, maybe? Bit bigger?”

“A greater demon, then,” Kurko said. “Doesn’t sound like a specter, either. Maybe a fiend?”

“I’d say a fiend, yeah,” Quintilla said. “That should make this more straightforward.”

“What’s a fiend?” Yin asked, brows furrowed.

“It’s a type of greater demon,” Kurko explained. “Fiends are large, aggressive, bloodthirsty.”

“Simple-minded, exploitable,” Quintilla added.

“I thought you’d never fought an actual demon,” Yin said.

“Well, I’ve heard all I need. The good folk of Tumba have thousands of educational stories if you’re willing to listen.”

“They always lie, though.”

“Every lie has a spoonful of truth. You average out all the lies you hear, you might just coax out a bit of that truth.”

“So you’re saying you know how to fight a greater demon?” Yin asked.

“Well, not exactly, but I have some tidbits that might come in handy.”

“Sounds a little flimsy to me.”

Quintilla rubbed her temples. “Do I pay you to talk?”

“Not really. That’s an extra I decided to throw in.”

“Okay, then what do I pay you for?”

“Killing folk.”

Quintilla nodded firmly and pointed her revolver in the direction of the lakata. “Right. Let’s do some of that.”

Before anyone could keep nagging, Quintilla headed through the stand of trees and walked out into a large clearing. The ground was covered in half-cleaned bones, some cracked open and gnawed down to the marrow.

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She counted a circle of fourteen, not fifteen lakata surrounding a throne of skulls. Seated atop the throne was a bloated serpent covered in oily scales. It was wide as a man and at least five meters in length, coiled around itself with a pair of arms resting on the skulls. Its face was unmistakably human, with eyes like burning coals and a pair of vibrating slits for a nose. A wet tongue slithered in and out of its thin-lipped mouth. It looked on with obvious self-satisfaction at the lakata that lay prostrated in adoration.

The clearing was ringed by a baker’s dozen cobbled-together huts, built from sticks and hides bound together with vines.

The snake demon snapped out of its reverie and looked up at the intruders. Its face split in half, yellowed teeth glinting within its dark maw. A string of guttural words escaped its throat, and the eager worshippers rose, turning to face the pirates.

“My my, you’re pretty ugly,” Quintilla said, taking aim at the demon. “I think I can do something about that.”

She fired a single round. Took the demon between the eyes. Its head snapped back and fell limp as the sharp crack of the gunshot echoed over the clearing. The lakata looked back in shock. They remained still as stone as a pregnant silence stretched out.

“Well, that went pretty—” Yin began.

The lakata all turned up their elongated heads and let out a cacophony of hisses. Some scrambled for weapons while others charged straight for the pirates. Even more poured out of the huts.

Fourteen became twenty, twenty became forty.

Soon, they had a veritable army of monsters bearing down on them.

“Fifteen, you said!” Quintilla cried, unloading into the crowd. She favored speed over precision. Her bullets would hit something no matter where she aimed.

“How should I have known there were more?” Yin asked.

“Could’ve used your head!”

Kurko blew away a whole group of lakata with The Knocker, reducing them to bloody pieces. The lakata closest to the blast were showered with gore. Rethinking their position, they began to shuffle backward. The rest of the lakata bore into them from behind, the sheer weight pushing them forward over the smoking corpses of their comrades.

Yin hurled her sword, impaling a lakata. She jumped on the crocodilians’ heads to reach it, laughing as they snapped at her feet. She reached her victim and yanked the blade free, shoving the dying monster aside. The surrounding lakata descended on her, but she held her own with quick slashes and slunk out of their grasp whenever they tried to catch her.

Kurko fired another blast into the lakata, pumped his shotgun—which gave off a hollow sound—and cursed. “Out of ammo,” he growled, dropping the weapon.

A shrill peal of laughter drew Quintilla’s attention. The serpent’s head wrenched back up, a neat hole between its eyes, face taken up by a knife-sharp grin. It spat a squashed metal slug onto the ground, tongue curling over its teeth, and rose from its throne of skulls.

Shit, Quintilla thought, gritting her teeth. I had hoped for something a little more permanent.

The demon slithered across the ground, headed for the pirates, and its servants moved out of the way to let it pass. It was remarkably quick despite its corpulent bulk. It’d be on them in seconds.

Quintilla reloaded her revolver and fired at the demon until her gun clicked empty. The bullets disappeared into its sagging flesh without slowing it down. Slowly backing up, she scrambled to think of something to get them all out of this.

There’s always something. No matter how bad it seems, luck is on my side. I just have to look for it.

Yin sprung at the serpent on quick feet. The demon croaked a few words in its own language—vile Zhurfuran—and batted the green-skinned girl out of the air with a swipe of its tail. She caught fire as she landed, black smoke rising from her body, and she wormed out of her sweater with a scream.

The demon laughed and turned its attention to Quintilla. It coiled up, mouth extending wide enough to swallow a horse, and lunged at her, closing several meters in a single leap.

Quintilla blinked dumbly. She pulled the trigger again and again, but it just gave a few hollow clicks.

Kurko stepped in front of her with a warrior cry, wide-legged, throwing up his thick arms in a cross guard.

The demon bit into his left forearm, fangs like daggers sinking through the frozen shell into the fleshy core. He let out a sharp yell, grabbing at the demon with his free hand, but the oily hide slipped through his fingers.

“No fear, captain,” Kurko said with a growl. “I have dealt with my fair share of snakes. Leave this to me.”

So tall. So proud. His deep voice held all the indestructible strength of a mountain.

That’s my first mate, she thought, and her heart swelled with pride.

Kurko planted his feet. A thick sheet of ice spread across his left arm, quickly crawling onto the face of the demon. The monster made to scream, but its tongue froze clean through and broke off before it could make a sound.

Kurko wrenched his arm out of the demon’s vice trap, shattering its jaw in the process. The creature reeled, smoking blood dripping down its drooping lower lip. He followed up with a brutal right that sent the demon toppling into several of its underlings.

Quintilla regained her senses at the sight of such strength. She reloaded her weapon with a full six, aware that she was running low on bullets, and dispatched two lakata closing on her first mate with as many shots.

He can do this, she thought. I just need to make sure he gets some privacy.

A lakata hauled Yin into the air, strong hands clamping down on her skinny arms. Another made to chop her in half with a wickedly sharp axe. As the second lakata swung, Yin heaved herself up and over her captor’s head, causing the lakata to strike its own ally. The captor let go with a hiss, and Yin bounded away.

Kurko’s left arm hung limp. Ice grew around his wounded forearm like a makeshift splint, halting the bleeding. He held out his right hand, and a chill wind howled around him. A tall spike of ice grew out of his fist, lengthening into a broad sword.

The demon pushed off its worshippers to stand up, gurgling uselessly past its broken jaw and severed tongue.

Kurko swung the sword in a horizontal arc that took the demon’s head clean off, sending it flying over the disorderly rows of crocodilians. It bounced off one of the lakata and settled on the ground, red eyes staring into the sky. The first mate stepped back from the demon’s slumping corpse, giving a weary sigh.

Quintilla held back a whoop. It wouldn’t do to let the man get a big head. Kurko did his best work when he felt he had something to prove.

The demon’s corpse shuddered. Its neck split open like a mouth, belching out something round and slimy. Another head extended from the ruined throat, new flesh knitting over the old. Within seconds it was as if the creature had never been hurt.

It grinned at Kurko.

“Silly, silly, silly,” the demon spoke in perfectly fluent Low Elandran. “I will have ever so much fun picking you apart. I will take my time, too.”

“Damn it!” Kurko cried, winding back for another strike.

The demon shot out, quick as an arrow, and wound its putrid body around his waist. It pulled him in tight, pinning his arms against his body, and Quintilla could hear the first mate’s icy hide cracking as the creature constricted him.

“Not… a fiend!” Kurko barked. “Skinchanger!”

Quintilla believed him. Skinchanger demons were notorious for shapeshifting into any guise they wished, having complete control over their physical form.

She raised her gun and attempted to line up a clean shot at the demon, but something wrapped itself tightly around her arm and pulled tight like a noose, crushing the bone in her right forearm. She cried out in pain, and looked down to find a smaller snake coiled around her arm with the same red eyes as its larger counterpart. Ice crystals clung to its slick hide. She tried to pull it off, but it bit into her muscle and refused to let go.

The old head! Quintilla realized, cursing herself internally. The demon must have transformed it into this!

The lakata crowded around her. One knocked the pistol from her hand. Another brought a club down towards her head.

“Yin! Run! Don’t worry about—” Quintilla began. She was cut off by a heavy thud against the back of her head.

She fell with a sigh, the world abruptly going black.