Jeremy strained his eyes as he peered into the darkness, trying to make out the looming shape ahead of him. It was a faint shadow, and the enveloping mist hung over the approaching ship like a shroud, blending it into the blackness. Still, he could make out the silhouette, even from this distance, thanks to its bright lanterns — Delia was right, it was well-lit.
The glow of lanterns illuminated the vessel from stem to stern, making the ship a glimmering sun within the fog. The lighting was unfit for a surprise ambush, which eased Jeremy; his grip on his claymore loosened, as did his muscles.
“They look like friends,” Gavin said with hope. Jeremy prayed to the gods he was right.
The ship was fast-moving, a shooting star honing on them with speed. Shipwrights made small ships to be fast, so its speed didn’t bother Jeremy, but the figurehead, that made his blood run cold.
“Ready yourselves.”
The crew shuffled, and Jeremy heard a gulp from someone nearby. It was clear that they had seen what he had.
“What the hell is that?” Gavin muttered under his breath.
The figurehead was familiar to Jeremy: a head of a woman, cold and lifeless, with piercing blue eyes. A sadistic smile played on her lips and snakes coiled around her, crowning her, with beady eyes that seemingly glared right at him. It made him freeze instinctively.
“Medusa,” Karl whispered.
The ship approaching wasn’t a pirate ship. Of course, it wasn’t—pirates didn’t parade around with bright lights. Knowing his luck, it was probably a ship of Gorgons. They were the gatekeepers to Hades’ realm in some stories, so it fit the theme of sailing into the underworld.
Jeremy gave out a nervous laugh. “It’s a figurehead. No need to turn to stone.”
“That’s a terrible joke,” Karl said.
“I’m surprised you even know who Medusa even is.”
“You’re not the only one who’s been doing some reading,” Karl responded.
Jeremy let the unspoken accusation hang. How the boatswain knew he had taken Delia’s bestiary wasn’t important, but the fact that Karl suspected he was hiding something was worrying. It was unlike the captain to share what Jeremy had reported that night. Still, it was a concern for later.
“So… not a pirate ship?” Gavin asked, breaking the tense silence.
Jeremy mentally sighed. Gavin was a hopeful fool. Pirates or not, they were hostile, probably. Which sane and normal crew had Medusa as a figurehead?
“Stone cold killers,” Jeremy laughed, answering his own question.
“Really?” Karl said. “I envy Jonah right about now.”
“Guys, can you get serious!” Delia shouted.
“Yes ma'am,” Karl replied. Jeremy could feel the man roll his eyes, even as he stared down Medusa’s ship.
“She’s as stiff as stone, huh?” Jeremy joked.
Karl groaned, and Shelby stifled a giggle. Jeremy forgot the third mate was even there, given how quiet he was. Jonah was there too, silent and still, with eyes narrowed on the foreign vessel. If only Jonah could hear the jokes, Jeremy sighed.
“We are now approaching,” a voice echoed.
Jeremy and the rest of the crew flinched. Everyone but Jonah, which meant that the voice whispered in each of their ears.
“So that’s what the fuck it was. Some stupid artifact.” It explained why they sounded so close.
“Are we sure they’re not friendly? Why else would they tell us they’re coming?” Gavin said.
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It was a good point.
“Did you not see their figurehead?” Karl said.
That was also a good point.
Jeremy paused for a moment, then hesitantly asked Delia if she could see anyone on board. It was risky, but as far as he was aware, Medusa’s powers only worked if you looked directly at her—she was using binoculars.
He also thought that the petrification only worked if the snakes could see you, so looking at a distance should have been ok. Otherwise, anyone looking at the snakehead's general direction would have petrified.
“There are five people,” Delia reported.
“Anyone with snake hair?” Jeremy questioned.
“No… Not that I can see. They’re all men.”
“Armed?”
“Bows. I can’t see anything else. Arrows aren’t nocked, though.”
“Get close to cover in case we need it,” he instructed the crew. “Delia, keep your head down. And someone explain to Jonah!” Jeremy said.
The ship guard stood as still as a statue, staring at the ship. It was eerie.
Jeremy calmed his nerves as the vessel closed in on them. They weren’t Gorgons, and they did announce their approach. Maybe Gavin wasn’t wrong, but being optimistic in the sea was a dangerous game to play.
He didn’t get much time to contemplate with the ship's swift movement. It was a mere 20 yards away.
“Permission to board,” an emotionless voice said.
Jeremy couldn’t tell if it was a question or not from its tone; it had a neutral and dull intonation. Still, he answered. “Permission granted!”
“Why?” Gavin asked in a panicked hush.
“Our best chance is close-quarter combat. And there are five of them. We have similar numbers.”
“We take the non-response as permission.”
“Did I not just give them permission?”
Karl shrugged at Jeremy's question. The wind and waves weren’t loud enough to drown out his voice, so they should have been able to hear, but it didn’t matter. The foreign ship was close to the Flightless Owls hull now. The masts gave away their position, the ship's diminutive size hidden beneath the Flightless Owls' mass.
Delia, from her vantage point, could probably see.
“Del, what are they doing?” Jeremy asked.
“Talking to each other? I think.”
“Are they getting ready for a fight?”
“No… one of them is climbing into the crow's nest. He’s carrying a small knife and shield.”
A knife and shield? What did the man intend to do, use it as a throwing knife? It would have made sense to carry the bow up there.
“Has he seen you?”
“No. I don't think they can see me up here. They are looking up, but more towards the sky… I think they’re looking for the Sirens?”
Jeremy's mouth opened to ask another question, but he froze as a man appeared in his line of sight. The man in the crow's nest.
“Oh, hello.”
“Hello!” Jeremy shouted back. “My name is Jeremy, of the Flightless Owl. And you are?!”
The man stood tall in the crow's nest, his gaze fixed on Jeremy. He was dressed in weathered leather boots and a long blue coat that flapped in the wind. His face was tanned and weather-beaten, with a thick beard that matched the colour of his dirty red hair. It was all Jeremy could make out from the distance.
“Hello,” the man repeated.
“Is he as deaf as Jonah?” Jeremy grumbled.
The man waved in his direction, to which Jeremy responded in kind.
“Can you speak.”
Jeremy assumed it was a question, though it sounded more like a statement.
“I’m fucking speaking now, or have I become mute?” He turned to Karl, who shrugged.
“I can hear you loud and clear, cap.”
Jeremy sighed, taking in a deep breath.
“YES, I CAN SPEAK!” he shouted back at the man. There was no way they wouldn’t have heard that. And still, the man stared at Jeremy like a fool.
It was only when the man reached to adjust something on his head did Jeremy notice the strange contraption. It covered his ears, braced over his head, and had a wire running down to a small box at his waist. His mouth moved as though speaking, though Jeremy didn’t hear anything. The man paused, then spoke again.
“Who the fuck is he talking to?”
“I don't think they can hear you, Jeremy!” Delia shouted.
“No shit!” He would have told her off for shouting when she was meant to be hidden, but if they didn’t hear his yell, he doubted they could hear hers.
“No, I mean… just look at their heads. Do you see that? I think it stops them from hearing.”
“Then how the fuck do they expect to hear what I’m saying?!”
“The same artfiact they use, I guess!”
He grunted. It made enough sense. It explained why the man's mouth moved, but he didn’t hear them. The man could probably choose who heard him.
“We will board the ship.”
As soon as the voice ended, the sound of whizzing filled the air, and grappling hooks arced towards the sky, before landing on the quarterdeck of the Flightless Owl. Seconds later, so did their guests.