Chapter 17
Seventeen
“Sweet, simmering cauldrons, I slept like a baby.” Thrain stretched his arms overhead as he emerged from below deck and squinted into the morning sun.
“No baby I’ve ever heard,” Pinkie said from the corner of her mouth as she slid down the mast and slipped Cali a conspiratorial wink.
The pantheri paused before clambering up the mast to take her shift in the crow’s nest, flicking her gaze to the dwarf and then to the sun soaring higher in the sky. “Good of you to join us.”
The dwarf had shed his greatcoat and most of the leather clothing he’d worn on the journey to Eldu—carryovers from living in the Ice Lands—which had left him with brown breeches and a blousy linen shirt that he’d failed to tie closed at the neck.
For a dwarf who’d never set sail before, he looked remarkably like a pirate.
His cheeks reddened as he took in the bustling deck and blazing sun.
“Didn’t mean to sleep so late.” He rubbed his eyes with his fists.
“I didn’t even drink too much last night.
” A yawn creaked his jaw, and he gave his head a firm shake.
“It’s this ship. It’s like being rocked to sleep all the time. ”
Cali couldn’t help grinning at her friend. At least one of them was sleeping, although she’d gotten a few winks curled up on deck after Bonnie had assured her she and Tris could handle things for the rest of the night.
“Where’s Bramble?” she asked. “The last I saw of him, he was taking his life in his hands and sleeping on top of you.”
Thrain hiked a thumb over his shoulder. “In the kitchen.” Then his expression softened.
“Marvella gets up early to make the bread, but it’s not dwarven flatbread.
She can make nut bread and onion buns and even Elven bread, although she swore an oath never to reveal where she learned that recipe.
” He sighed, his breath rustling his whiskers.
“She’s quite the dwarf. Reminds me of my sister back home. ”
Cali hadn’t known the dwarf thought of Marvella like a sister—and she hadn’t been aware Thrain had a sister—but she also knew he must be glad of someone who reminded him of home. “Sounds like she and Pip would have a lot to talk about.”
Thrain’s brow wrinkled before Cali added, “Baking and recipes and such.”
“Course.” He chuckled with one hand on his belly. “Lira, too.”
“Maybe one of us could convince her to visit Wayside one day,” Cali said, which brightened the dwarf’s face. She glanced at the pirates working around them. “But for now, I wouldn’t talk about bread too loudly. No one up here has had a bite to eat yet.”
Thrain ran a hand down his beard, and a few crumbs broke free. “Right you are.” He produced a small bottle filled with green liquid, unstoppered it, and took a swig.
“What’s that?”
Thrain barely met her gaze. “Just a potion Marvella gave me to stave off seasickness.”
Cali wondered if this was one of the reasons he was sleeping so soundly.
He held it out to her. “Care for a swig?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine so far, but go easy on potions. I’d hate to see you sprout a green mustache.”
Thrain put a hand to his thick beard as he eyed the small bottle. “You don’t think—?”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Cali laughed. “It’s better than having you hanging over the side of the ship hurling out your insides.”
“Like I said before, dwarves aren’t natural seafarers.” He cleared his throat and swung his head to take in the crew humming a sea shanty as they worked. “Any sign of the hellkins and the missing jolly boat?” He swung his head from side to side. “Any sign of anything?”
Cali followed his gaze to the expanse of dark water stretching in all directions. “Nothing yet, but I was about to take a shift in the crow’s nest.”
Thrain tipped his head back and gulped when he saw how high it perched. “Better you than me, archer.”
A shadow fell across them, and Cali turned to find Gert towering above, meaty green hands on her hips. “This is a pirate ship. Less talk. More work.”
Cali backed away toward the mast. “I was just heading to the crow’s nest.”
Thrain cleared his throat. “And I was—“
“About to roll some rope?” the quartermaster supplied with a pointed nod toward the bow. “Or there’s always swabbing below deck.”
“Aye. I can roll rope.” Thrain looked almost relieved as he hurried toward sizable piles of frayed rope.
Cali placed her paws on the mast, extended her claws until they dug into the salt-soft wood, and scampered easily up the pole and into the crow’s nest. The sun had burned away any remnants of morning haze, and the sky blazed hot and clear.
The pantheri put a hand above her eyes to shield them from the glare as she peered into the distance, turning a slow circle to take in the entire horizon.
The wind ruffled the water, teasing white foam from low waves, but there was no sign of land or other ships.
She pulled her long hair back into a knot and secured it with a spare bowstring from her pocket to keep it from blowing in her face.
From so high, the sounds of the pirates working below were snatched away on the breeze, so that the only sounds she could make out clearly were the ones of the ship—the creak of the wood as the ship rocked, the sigh of the mast as it leaned into the wind, the whisper of the sails as they caught the gusts.
Cali pressed one paw on the sunbaked mast. “We’ll find your friend. Don’t you worry.”
She should have felt silly talking to a piece of wood, but the responding creak reminded her that this wasn’t normal wood or a normal ship.
The ship then pitched hard to the left, and Cali grabbed the edges of the rail to stay upright.
She glanced below to the quarterdeck where Bonnie should have been, but there was no one at the captain’s wheel.
Shouts drifted up to her as the crew tried to adjust to the dramatic change, and she spied Thrain struggling to stand as the ship picked up speed.
Had Tris seen something she hadn’t?
Cali narrowed her eyes, scanning the horizon.
Nothing. Then she dropped her gaze to the sea as she turned to look behind the ship.
Her pulse fluttered when she spotted bursts of color flashing beneath the waves.
When one creature arced through the air and splashed back down, an iridescent green tail flipping before vanishing beneath the blue, Cali gasped.
She’d never seen them before, but she’d seen enough drawings in the books she’d read.
“Mermaids,” she whispered before remembering Gert’s opinion of them. She gripped the edge of the crow’s nest and leaned over, screaming as loud as she could, “Mermaids!”