Chapter 9
Torin
I’m in a terrible mood, surrounded by a barnyard of numbskulls who have been cooped up in one place for too long.
First, they were stuck on the ship and now they’re stuck on a tiny island with a little more room to mess around but no way of leaving.
Despite the regular supply runs, they can’t exactly nip into the nearest town to get pissed or start a fight or find someone new to get laid.
Which means there’s a whole lot of unspent energy in the air, which is risky with this bunch of reprobates.
And so I’ve been trying to keep them occupied, hoping to use that energy for something more useful than destruction.
It’s not going well so far. In fact, it’s a lot like herding kittens.
Every time I think I have one where I want them, someone decides it’s a good idea to fling themselves out of the window or start wrestling until they break another floorboard.
It doesn’t help that Jack returned from his latest trip to one of the cities with the news that even more names have appeared on the arrest list.
We might all want to be wanted, but not like this. Not with the looming threat of arrest and detention hanging over our heads.
And so, they need some hefty distraction.
I’ve spent the past couple of days working day and night, trying to fix up the generator in the musty basement that links to the lighting system.
At least that way, we won’t be stumbling around in the dark as soon as the sun goes down.
Most of the wiring is intact, and there are just a few places that I’ve needed to patch up any breaks.
Then all we needed was a top up of magic in the tank and we should have lighting, which Aster provided earlier today.
I was damn satisfied with myself when it got dark and the lights all came on.
The house might look thrown together and a hazard waiting to happen...
mostly because it is. But at least we were eating dinner in the light for once.
Everyone was in a better mood already, partly because of the lights and partly because Bones announced we were throwing Cookie a birthday party.
And then Jack had to show up and give us the shitty news.
Which means it’s the kind of party with an edge to it, like someone might get thrown out of a window at any moment.
If you’d asked me an hour ago, my money would have been on our captain, who was supposed to be helping me in the kitchen to give Cookie the night off.
Despite Finch having twice as many appendages as the rest of us, it turns out he’s truly awful at cooking.
In the end, he wound up burning a few too many things and waved a hand around with an apologetic, if vague, look around at all the smoke.
“I’m not sure this is the help you’d hoped for,” he said. “Perhaps I’ll send for reinforcements.”
At which point he wandered off and hasn’t come back since. Leaving me with an ever-changing group of assistants who are steadily growing drunker by the hour. All we were supposed to be doing was baking a cake and putting together some snacks, but even that is turning out to be a monumental effort.
It’s hard enough as it is, without me being one-handed since I can’t exactly roll my sleeves up and demonstrate what I need them to do. Not now that my damn hand has entirely disappeared.
“Dammit, Dagger, there’s a spoon there for a reason.”
“You have to be gentle with the stove, not smother it.”
Fuck, I sound like the un-fun grandpa. That’s not too unusual, but it makes me miss Reva. She likes to tease me about my reading glasses, about the way I word things, and how I’m always looking after people.
She teases me about everything. Or at least, she did before parts of my body started disappearing and I started avoiding her.
You could say I’m not handling the changes to my body very well.
There’s a shout from somewhere outside, and Dagger leans out of the kitchen window far enough to make my stomach drop.
“Looks like Blade and Silvertooth have dug into storage. I reckon they’ve got either the oats barrel or the one with rum in it. I guess we’ll see if we’re eating well tonight or if we’re having a party.”
“They went back to the ship?” I ask, trying and failing to hide the horror in my voice.
“Yep.”
The two bozos stumble into the kitchen and start hammering at the top. Pinching the upper part of my nose, I take a deep breath so that I don’t snap. I’m dangerously close to losing my temper at the best of times at the moment, and being around these idiots isn’t helping.
“We’re supposed to be avoiding the ship,” I speak slowly, just in case that helps them to sink in.
“We were low on oats, though. Low on rum, too.”
“And eggs.”
“Soap too.”
“Do you think Cookie’ll make those little cakey things that melt on your tongue?”
“Cookie’s not making anything.”
“He’s making eyes at Bones. Not sure either of them will be sticking around the party long enough to enjoy it.”
“So, can we make those little cakey things that melt on your tongue?”
I stifle a grunt of frustration before opening the door wider to try to let out some of the smoke smell when something launches itself. Wings flap around my face as sharp claws narrowly avoid my eyes.
“What the blazes?”
Has everyone lost their ever-loving minds today or something?
Strangely enough, my spines don’t immediately erupt from my back, which means I know exactly who this is.
A seriously annoying raven. And if he wasn’t closer than a brother, I’d be sorely tempted to wring his damn neck.
“What are you doing?” I bat Jack’s wings away from my face with my good arm. “Stop that.”
But he keeps going, flapping his wings right into my face so I have to do an awkward pirouette to avoid him.
“Oi oi, Tor’s showing off his dance moves.”
“What is wrong with you?”
“With me?” Jack flaps his wings, hovering right in front of my face before seamlessly shifting into his human form. “What’s up with you? Your face specifically, why are you looking all constipated like that?”
“Oh shit, another fight,” Dagger yells out the window. “Who should we take bets on? What shall we bet with? Socks or rum?”
“It’s oats.”
“Fine. Socks or those little cake things?”
“Cookie’s not going to be making them, so we might as well not bother.”
I rub my face tiredly, not realising as I do that I’m using the wrong hand. Jack’s eyes instantly snap to the empty sleeve where my hand should be.
“What is that? Where’s your hand?”
“It’s still there,” I mutter, turning away from Dagger’s twitching ears. To demonstrate, I give Jack a flick around the ear. “See? You just can’t see it.”
He blinks at me. “And when were you going to tell me you were turning into Mr Invisible Man?”
I grunt and give a shrug that doesn’t disguise the fact that... I wasn’t going to. Not unless I could help it.
“I think all the gunk back in the labs messed me up.”
He grabs my hand and tries to inspect it, but I pull it away. There are far too many busybodies with absolutely nothing better to do than watch shit going down and gossip about it.
Jack huffs. “Oh shit, has it extended to your dick and you’re scared to show Reva your invisi-dick?”
“Keep. Your. Voice. Down,” I hiss at him, eyeing Dagger warily. “Of course, this is why I’ve been sneaking around the house like an idiot. Reva deserves better than me. A messed up monster is one thing, but one that’s straight fading from existence? That’s a whole other kettle of fish.”
“But you’re not fading away, dummy,” he says. “You flicked me hard enough to show you’ve still got working hands.”
“And my cock’s not disappeared,” I add, right on cue for Dagger to stop hammering. “So far, it’s just my hand.”
Thankfully, Dagger is too busy crowing that both barrels are filled with rum to notice me yelling about my cock.
“Well, you’re not the only one acting strange either.” Jack scoffs, rolling his eyes at me like the little turd he is. “Kit’s acting weird, too. I’m going to see if he’ll join the party.”
With a flap of his wings, he’s off again.
“Hey, Tor, is something burning again?”
Tugging down my sleeves to cover my missing hand, I stifle a sigh. Something tells me tonight’s going to be a long one.
Then Dagger slaps me on the shoulder with a commiserating look. “You might have lost your hand and your dick, but things'll be okay. You just need to work out what to do with the appendages you have left.”
I shut my eyes for a moment, praying into the ether for strength.
I suppose that Jack’s unwanted and unhelpful visit to the kitchen did have a purpose after all—even if it’s one he’s unaware of.
Now that both Jack and Dagger know about my hand, as well as anyone else who might have been eavesdropping, the rumours will get around the rest of the crew quickly enough.
I guess it’s finally time to have a proper conversation with Reva.