34. Locke #3
This boat doesn’t have a propulsion system either. Just paddles. I’m starting to think the point of this place is to move as quietly as possible. Travel in silence. Leave no trace. That’s the way to survive here.
At the bottom of the ladder, I carefully drop onto the metal boat.
The sound of my feet hitting the metal makes a deep thump that makes me wince.
I freeze, listening for any response, but when I don’t hear any melodic songs, I relax and gesture back to the top for Vesper to follow.
Slowly, she starts to descend the ladder.
I watch her move, her thick fur boots planting on the rungs with precision that I lack.
I’d slipped a few times coming down with these new boots.
She doesn’t slip once. Her agility is going to be one of her better skills I bet.
At the base of the ladder, I reach up and grab her waist, lifting her off the ladder and down to the boat so she doesn’t make as much noise as I had dropping down.
Once our feet are in the boat, we stand there for five long minutes, waiting, just in case we need to quickly rush back up the ladder again.
“If we stand here any longer, I am going to turn into a popsicle,” Svetlana grumbles, nestling deeper into Vesper’s hood.
“She’s right,” Vesper nods. “We should move.”
Sighing, I grab the nearest paddle and hand it to her before grabbing my own. We settle in the boat and I know both of us are steeling our spines for this next part.
“Ready?” I ask.
“No,” she replies. “Let’s go.”
I lean over and carefully dip my oar into the water and prepare to—
“Hey, guys!”
I scream, the sound echoing across the water as the Narwhal appears at the head of our boat with a goofy grin and shining horn. My oar is halfway to beating the creature before Vesper’s hand stops me, giving me enough time to register that it’s the Narwhal and not the orcas or leopard seals.
“Fucking fuck,” I growl at him. “You could have warned us before popping up like that!”
The Narwhal laughs. “Where would the fun in that be?” He twirls in the water, still giggling.
“I never got to thank you,” Vesper tells him as she leans over the edge of the boat. “You saved our lives.”
“Aw shucks,” he replies. “I just answered your call, Beast Bound. You saved yourself.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask, frowning at him. “She didn’t call you this time.”
I know, because she had checked her mana before we left our room. She was still sitting at a quarter and we don’t know how to refill it any faster than the regeneration schedule.
“Now that I’ve been called, we share a connection,” the Narwhal says. “I’ve been waiting for you to leave the safehouse so I can escort you back to shore.”
Vesper’s brows furrow. “You’re going to escort us?”
“Oh, of course, of course,” he says. “I didn’t save you just for the pesky leopard seals to kill you.
They’re waiting just over there.” He points with his horn in the direction we were planning on going and waves a flipper at the shapes we hadn’t even noticed.
Surprisingly, they wave back. “Do not worry. I’ll keep them at bay. ”
“Thank you,” Vesper says. “How can we thank you properly?”
“You can rub my horn,” the Narwhal says. “I like my horn rubbed.”
She blinks and side eyes me before the Narwhal turns his horn over the boat within reach. She hesitantly reaches up and touches it with her palm, barely rubbing it.
“Curl your hand around it,” the Narwhal instructs. “I can’t feel it otherwise.” She grimaces and wraps her hand around the horn. “Good. Now stroke.”
“What the fuck—”
The narwhal starts to move in the water, stroking his horn in and out of her hand despite her not moving. She freezes for a second, not sure what’s happening, not until the Narwhal lets out a loud moan.
“Oh yeah,” he groans. “Faster, Beast Bound. Stroke it faster.”
I clamp my lips shut on the laughter threatening to spill out of my mouth. It takes everything to keep it there, but my shoulders are still shaking, a fact that Vesper doesn’t miss.
Her face reddens and she releases his horn. “I can’t.”
“What’s the matter, Vesper?” I chuckle. “Stroke the poor thing.”
She bares her teeth at me. “Shut the fuck up, Locke!”
The narwhal sighs dramatically. “I do so miss being touched.” And then he turns in the water and gestures for us to follow.
Vesper glares at me as she picks up her oar. “We never speak of this again.”
“No promises,” I laugh, dipping my oar in the water and pushing away from the Titanic. Now that we have an escort, I’m not as afraid as I was before. I do eye the leopard seals in the distance though, just in case.
Svetlana pops out of the hood long enough to ask, “Want me to chop off his head now?”
Which tells me she’s asked before. Vesper eyes me and I raise my brow.
“No,” she grumbles, and then says more under her breath I can’t hear. Svetlana laughs and tucks back inside her hood, leaving me to stare at the two of them suspiciously.
The women are planning my demise. I’m not sure if I’m looking forward to it . . .
. . . or if I should sleep with my eyes open from now on.