CHAPTER 11: ZOOMIES AT SEA

The first hour had been the worst. Even as the deck bucked and pitched beneath his feet, tossing him every which way, Dantes had been rushing about, stowing gear for some time now. After he got used to the turbulence, though, he found his situation much improved.

With all the gear put away, and the main sail taken down, there was no more work to do, for now. The enchantments on the sheets allowed Captain Crow to control the boat how he wished for the most part, so Dantes closed his eyes, and felt the rain batter against his skin.

It was a warm rain, one that might be expected in an arid region like Esthar, and it came down kindly, as though in greeting to a long-time friend. With his stomach and legs under control, he could finally appreciate the feeling he was experiencing.

“There’s nothing else quite like it, is there?” a soft, tired voice muttered softly.

He turned, seeking the source, but there was no one behind him.

“Up here, new guy. Come on up.”

He noticed, for the first time, a woman in full pink flannel pajamas, on the foretop, just a small wooden platform, looking down upon him from her perch. Nimbly scaling the netting, he joined her.

The two sat, facing towards the tossing sea, legs dangling over the side, just watching the rain come down, and the lightning strike. The lightning would always come close, but never strike them directly. Once, it came within a stone’s toss, just off the port bow.

“Did you call this storm?” He asked, his curiosity finally overcame his contentment to sit still and enjoy the moment.

“…No. Not really. I just asked it to arrive a bit earlier than it had planned…” She trailed off, eyes drooping.

Dantes took closer notice of the woman to his side. Her chestnut brown hair was long, stretching down well past her shoulders. It was curled somewhat loosely, though hard to tell, plastered down by rain as it was. Dark rings surrounded her sky blue eyes, and while her expression and clothes showed she was about ready to fall asleep, her eyes betrayed a sharp awareness in stark opposition. Contentment in the raging winds, but looking past the horizon. She was also rather tall, almost as tall as himself, though it was hard to tell with her slumping, chin propped up against one hand.

“Rain is nice…”

Dantes didn’t really know how to respond to that, so he gave a grunt and looked out into the endless waters, waves stretching up like great monoliths reaching towards the heavens.

“Do you ever feel like you’re in the right place sometimes?” she spoke again, eyes closed now.

“Ever since I arrived in Esthar I felt that way. Having the freedom to choose what to eat, where to go, where to work. Before I came here, I didn’t have any of that.”

“I’m the same way, I guess… that’s why I joined the crew, at least…” she muttered.

The two watched the waves pitch and the rain fall and the wind blow for some time before a voice broke the calm. William called out to them from below, yelling above the wind.

“Jen, Pa says ye should go rest! You overexerted yourself this time aroun- oh hullo mister Dantes.” The boy was also grinning, his short black hair whipped around by the wind and rain.

Jennifer stretched before slowly climbing down the netting, heading for her cabin. William took her place after just a moment.

“Isn’t her rain just the best? It feels a lot kinder than normal rain. Say, you aren’t trying to flirt with her, are ya? Don’t bother, she only has eyes for the wind and rain anyway. Where’d that lady from earlier go by the way? She disappeared when the rain started and I haven’t seen her since. Looked all over. Are you two a couple? Her name’s Mitty, right?”

In one fell swoop, the young teenager unleashed a torrent of questions, never waiting for an answer.

“Slow down there, I don’t think I caught even half of that. Yeah that was Mitty though. She doesn’t much like the rain. Probably went back to sleep in the cabin. She’s a friend.” He was feeling particularly mellow right now. Something about the warmth of the rain and ever softening lull of the ship. Given the wind, it really seemed like it should be more of a catastrophic pitch than a lull, but what did he know?

“Say mister, what does she like?” the boy asked.

“Why do you want to know, William?”

“No reason. But I’ll show ya something cool if ya tell me. Also call me Will, only my dad calls me that.” He wrinkled his nose in a scowl for a moment before dropping it.

“What’ll you show me?”

“It’s a secret, but it’s super cool, promise.”

“Hmm. I’ll hold you to that. The only thing I know she likes for sure is fish. She’s always mentioning this fish market she would go to back home, but she didn’t have a chance to check out the one in Esthar before we got caught up in all this action.”

“Are you sure ya know what you’re talking about mister? Ya can’t give someone fish as a present. What about flowers? Hmm, I guess ya can’t get any of those around here…” he went quiet, stroking his barren chin in contemplation. “Anything else, mister?”

“I mean, if you know how to cook, she’d probably be interested in learning from you… That’s all I can think of, though. I mean, we haven’t really been on good terms until recently, so I guess I don’t really know her that well…” he shrugged. It was his new favourite gesture, and it felt appropriate here.

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“Well thanks for the ideas mister.” He swung himself off the platform and down onto the deck below. “You don’t have to stay out here ya know! Ya wouldn’t see anyone coming even if they could follow us in this storm!” he called out from below, before making his way to the crew’s quarters.

Somewhat disappointed the boy hadn’t delivered on the deal, but not particularly interested in chasing after him for it, he stayed out in the rain, watching the storm for some time, before heading back inside and finally getting some much needed rest in his hammock.

***

Unlike the only other ship she’d been in, the Spitfire was completely devoid of mice, and really any other sort of vermin you care to name. It didn’t really disappoint her as much as it might have, had she had no one to amuse herself with, however she had yet to run out of fun things to do and see, and so many ideas for mischief that she was having trouble keeping all her schemes in her head at once.

It had been a rather exciting morning, all things considered. A lovely breakfast to accompany violent barrages of cannon fire. The storm and subsequent rain had put a bit of a damper on things, but that just put her exploration plans ahead by a bit.

While there were many things to appreciate about the Spitfire, the one thing that had stood out to her was the number of empty containers lying around. Perfect for hiding in wait of an unsuspecting victim to wander by, or make into a secret base, empty crates and barrels were truly the best thing aboard. Short of herself of course.

Bringing her attention back to the matter at hand, she swished her tail slowly in anticipation of the leap. Gathering her entire weight into a low crouch before exploding upwards, a small black cat jumped two or so meters directly onto a tower of perilously stacked crates.

For a moment, it seemed as though nothing would happen, but slowly and surely, the tower teetered once, twice, and… CRASH. The crates spilled onto the floor in a loud clatter, though each box remained firmly shut.

That was certainly disappointing. Mitty considered shifting back to make an even bigger stack from which to observe the cargo hold, but decided against it, instead perching on a slightly shorter tower overlooking the sea of boxes, barrels and crates.

After a minute or so, the swordsman, Harq, she thought to herself, poked his head down the stairs and looked about before leaving again. Slightly disappointed, she considered knocking over another stack to get his attention, ideally luring him closer to her ambush spot this time, but decided to wait a bit longer.

Harq returned a couple minutes later, this time with the enchanter in tow.

“Hmm? You think the stabilization runes are broken? Shouldn’t be, I just replaced them last month.” Rowan’s voice sounded from the entrance.

Rowan grumbled, noticing the fallen crates. While he was rummaging around the boxes, the opportunity presented itself.

With a mighty leap, she soared from her current vantage point landing squarely on the short man’s hooded head.

Jumping to his feet, he exclaimed. “What the-?! Oh, it’s you. You gave me a heart attack, Mitty. Were you in on this Harq? You were, weren’t you? Ugh, I’m going back up to get some sleep. I’m too busy for this.”

The swordsman was just smiling and chuckling to himself as the enchanter made his exit. Pondering a bit, he slowly moved over, and started stacking up the boxes again, slowly. Another stack had fallen due to her ambush.

After some time, he started. “Amira, we have some things to discuss, you and I.” His voice was surprisingly soft and gave the impression of one who thought thrice before speaking, preferring to listen instead.

She purred for him to continue.

He continued stacking boxes in silence, mulling over his words before speaking again. “In my tribe, a debt must be repaid fairly and fully. To fail to do so is to bring shame to the tribe.”

She could see where this was headed. Well, not really, but she pretended she did and nodded him on.

“I owe you two lives, amira. That of my own, and that of Rowan’s. He is not honour bound to repay this debt as I am, and his life means much to me, so I owe you two lives. I will not count the life of your companion here.”

“Meow?”

“Our death was certain. We were ill prepared for the operation, but our hand was forced. I am now sworn to save you from mortal danger twice, or offer you something of equal value, amira.”

She scoffed at that, then thought again. They say cats have nine lives. She would surely trade at least a few of them for a couple things that came to mind. Like a big tuna she’d seen once at the fish market.

Slowly, she nodded in agreement.

Harq inclined his head in response, then made to leave the cargo hold, pausing at the door. “I won’t tell anyone your secret, amira, and neither will Rowan, I think, though for different reasons.”

She meowed at him as he left her alone in the dimly lit sea of boxes, crates and barrels. It was good he wouldn’t tell anyone. That would’ve ruined a lot of pranks.

Curling up on a barrel, she drifted off to sleep, fairly happy with the circumstances, all things considered. Plenty of things to do, places to explore, and pranks to pull. Now if only she’d remembered to ask him about cooking…

***

Dawn brought with it the promise of warmth. The storm had mostly dispersed, and the sun poked through the horizon, spreading a warm orange glow across the water. The wind was dead, the water, glass. A ragged Sparrow sat on an emptied barrel before the wheel, tiredly watching the only thing of interest at the moment. The captain had gone to bed a few hours earlier, having been awake for two consecutive days and the normal second on helm, Jennifer, being magically exhausted, likely for at least a few days.

Will, sat on the side of the ship, legs dangling over the calm water, with a fishing pole in hand. He hadn’t had any luck so far, but nearby a few meters away, a black cat watched with interest, unnoticed by the boy.

Sparrow cast his mind back, trying to recall the last time an animal had been aboard the vessel. Rats and other vermin had never been a problem due to the meticulous attention from Rowan, so a ship’s cat had never really been needed. They also tried to steer clear of shipping animals in general. Aside from just being too messy, he found it distasteful, shipping exotic animals to rich nobles, knowing they wouldn’t breath a breath of fresh air for the rest of their lives. Also, a lot of the cargo enchantments didn’t play nice with living things, thus diminishing their shipping capacity.

The last time must have been… Oliver? Yes, it must’ve been. Miss Crow had loved that cat. That was a long time ago. He was quite fond of cats himself, though he occasionally found their antics tiring. Seeing their mischief aimed at others though, was perfectly fine, he thought, smiling, as the cat shimmied closer to his target.

Will, having endured an hour of nothing, finally felt a little tug. Snapping out of his reverie, he shouted.

“Wah?! Got one! GOT ONE!”

Planting his feet on the deck, he tugged and pulled, and finally, a fish, only slightly bigger than the boy’s hand, broke the surface, wriggling about on his line.

Bringing the fish to eye level, the boy sighed, unhooking it, and putting the still wriggling fish into an empty bucket by his feet.

“Surely, this little mackerel won’t be good enough… let’s at least get a Midas tuna or somethin’.”

Unable to hold himself back, Sparrow let out a massive guffaw.

“Boy, if you manage to hook a Midas, it’ll be you I’ll have to fish out of the water. You manage to get one of those aboard, I’ll swab the decks for a week and call you cap’n! I’d even bet you won’t finish the day with a single fish!” he shouted with a cackle.

Growling in annoyance, Will reached for his bait only to just now notice the furry thief that had snuck up on him. With a shout, he dove after the cat, but it was too quick, and nimbly dodged out of reach, holding the fish victoriously in her jaws, before disappearing below deck.

“Whatever,” he grumbled under his breath, “wanted something bigger to give her anyway. Maybe a whale or somethin’. You'll see.” The rest of the morning he spent with a slack line, waiting for the wind to pick up and deliver them beyond the horizon.