Patty patted him on the shoulder, nearly slamming the man into the deck with the force of her touch. He staggered and almost dropped to one knee.

“Sorry about that,” Maya apologized. “She’s still learning to control her strength. At least she didn’t put a hole in our new deck.”

“Or my face,” Humbol muttered. “And now I’m sure. We never had a chance at all. You lot are monsters.”

“Thank you,” Patty said with a wide grin.

They trailed off into an uneasy silence. Humbol cleared his throat and gestured to Cyll, who was manning the wheel.

“So, do you have a map to Greenhill?” Humbol asked.

“We know where it is,” Cyll replied.

“Ah. And I don’t suppose you have any spare food?” The extravagant man asked, wetting his lips with his tongue, and giving them an unabashed grin.

For what it was worth, the man did look rather thin. Maya sighed and shot a pointed glance at Cyll.

“Do we have enough food to share?” She asked.

“With an entire crew? No. With one person? We can spare something,” Cyll replied after a moment of deliberation.

“Just for me,” Humbol quickly said. “They’re already fed. I just get very hungry after using my abilities.”

“I’ll get us all something,” Patty said, heading below deck.

She emerged a few minutes later. Her arms were full of oranges, dry biscuits, jerky, and a large leather flask. She plopped down on the deck, setting the food in front of her. She then grabbed one of the oranges and tossed it to Cyll, who grabbed it out of the air.

The immortal pirate took a bite out of the orange as if it were an apple, eating skin and all. Humbol shivered and looked away.

“You have a crew of madmen,” he informed Maya.

Patty picked up an orange and bit into it the same way Cyll had. She tilted her head at Humbol’s words.

“What do you mean?” She asked, her mouth widening unnaturally as she stuffed the rest of the orange in, whole. It disappeared into her gullet and she gave them a small smile.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Nothing at all,” Humbol replied, carefully picking up a piece of jerky and chewing on it.

Maya started eating as well, although she kept a careful eye on Patty and Cyll. The immortal pirate caught his captain watching him and winked slightly. He spat the orange peel out of his mouth and into the water before peeling the rest of his orange and eating it.

Maya shook her head and chuckled. They lapsed into silence and the rest of the meal passed quickly. Once the food had been finished, Humbol flopped onto his back and let out a contented groan.

“I haven’t had fresh food in ages,” he mumbled, patting his stomach.

“This was hardly a lord’s feast,” Maya said. “What have you been eating these past years?”

“Fish, mostly,” Humbol said, grimacing. “Let’s just say my crew and I got very good at fishing.”

“Not that’s dedication,” Cyll said, peering down from the wheel. “Stupid, but dedicated. Did you really hang around that island for years?”

“Five of them.”

“Huh. I wouldn’t stick around somewhere for a month if I had a choice, much less that long. Each to their own, I suppose,” Cyll replied. Despite his friendly words, the pirate’s eyes were alert. They moved from Humbol’s ship to the glimmering pirate, prepared to act at the first sign of agression.

Humbol grunted, but he didn’t seem eager to answer the other man. He rolled onto his side and let out a loud yawn. A moment later, he was snoring loudly. Maya and Cyll exchanged an amused glance, but they couldn’t catch Patty’s eye. She was watching the prone pirate, an unreadable expression on her face.

“Can we talk in the cabin?” Cyll asked, jerking his head towards Maya’s quarters.

She nodded, rising to her feet. Patty gave her an absent nod as the captain joined Cyll inside her room. Cyll pulled the door shut behind them and flicked on a kerosene lamp, filling the small area with a dim orange light.

Aside from the bed that Maya had slept on, it was clear she hadn’t missed much. There was a small locker at the foot of the bed and a desk on the other side of the room with a quill, parchment, and ink.

Cyll sat down on the chair, watching out the window warily.

“What’s your plan, Cap?” Cyll asked, drumming his fingers against the smooth brown wood. “He’s playing at something.”

“No shit,” Maya said, her expression dark. “His personality shifts like the moon. Nobody gets their ass handed to them and decides to become friends with their opponent that quickly. He suspects we have the treasure.”

“So why haven’t we put an end to the threat?” Cyll asked. He jerked his chin towards where Humbol’s ship was still somehow gliding alongside them. “Patty could sink that before they could do much damage, and I’ve already defeated him once.”

“Because I’m not sure we actually understand the threat,” Maya said, her frown deepening. “Look. We know he was watching the island, right?”

Cyll nodded.

“He didn’t find us right as we left. He came over the horizon. How did he know we were on the island?”

The immortal pirate paused. His head tilted slightly as he considered his captain’s words.

“Maybe something with the wind? If his ability is similar to yours, maybe he can talk to it.”

“That’s possible,” Maya agreed. “One more thing, then. He claimed to be on the island and that he lost a crewmate there, remember?”

“Yeah. What about it? It was damn god’s hideout, so it’s unsurprising that it was dangerous,” Cyll said dismissively.

“Of course it was dangerous. But how did he escape? We’ve been in that dungeon. The entrance was a huge whirlpool that would have destroyed his ship. On top of that, the door dissapears the moment you go inside. So, I’ll ask you again. How did Humbol escape?”