Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
When Bonnie stopped in a doorway that smelled of mildew and old fish, Cali squinted into the dark interior of a restaurant she would not have entered on a bet.
The smell would have been bad enough, but the floor was sticky and the dark paint was peeling from the walls in long, melancholy strips.
Lanterns with cracked glass hung from hooks at irregular intervals, casting more shadow than light, and few lonely figures hunched over tables in the gloom, blades flashing at their waists and chests.
"Bonnie." Cali kept her voice low enough that none of the hunched figures could hear her. "When you said you knew a place to eat—"
"Trust me," the pirate said without looking back.
Cali had heard those words before. They had, more often than not, preceded something involving running and dodging daggers. Still, she followed, because the alternative was standing alone in the doorway of a questionable establishment on an island that existed on no map, and that seemed worse.
Bonnie moved through the dim room toward a narrow door at the far end, past a bar where a man with no discernible eyebrows was polishing a glass with a dingy cloth. She pushed through the door without knocking, and Cali ducked in after her.
The staircase on the other side was steep and spiraling and made entirely of bamboo that sagged under her weight.
It wound upward in a tight coil, and with every step the air grew warmer and fresher, losing the smell of the restaurant below and gaining something salt-bright.
Her ears caught the distant cry of a bird, and when they emerged, Cali could only blink in surprise.
The top of the restaurant was a platform that clung to the treetops and emerged above the other roofs.
It extended in an irregular oval around three of the thicker palm trunks, which grew straight up through cutouts in the floor and draped green fronds overhead to create a canopy.
There were three tables, small and draped in white cloth that twitched in the breeze, and every one of them faced the view of the cove.
The water below burned copper and gold in the setting sun, and beyond it, the horizon glowed.
Bonnie glanced back at her and grinned “You should see your face.”
"I didn't—" Cali started, then stopped. "I thought we were going to eat in the sticky room."
Bonnie laughed and pulled out a chair at the table closest to the railing. "The sticky room keeps people from looking for the stairs."
Cali sat down slowly, hooking her bow over the back of her chair as she took in the view.
She could just make out the silhouette of The Cruel Mistress bobbing at the end of the longest dock, the swirls of color on her hull dimmed to something sultrier in the dusk.
"I'll tell no one how pretty this is. It would ruin your reputation entirely. "
Bonnie grinned. “Thank you.”
A girl appeared from between two of the trees, carrying goblets on a tray. She was young, with dark eyes and a pair of iridescent wings barely larger than her hands tucked against her shoulder blades. She set the goblets down, her large eyes flaring at the sight of the pirate captain.
Bonnie said something to the girl in a low voice, slipping coins across the table as she spoke. Cali caught the words private dinner, chef, whatever is good. The girl's wings fluttered as she scooped up the coins, and then she was gone, her footsteps a whisper on the bamboo.
Bonnie lifted her goblet, the pink liquid inside swishing. "To your first visit to Claw Island.”
"To my first visit,” Cali agreed, although she liked to think it would be her only visit.
The drink was sweet, but she was certain that was a ruse. Cali took a second sip more carefully, noting the way the back of her throat had gone pleasantly numb, and set down the goblet.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the port town embrace the dusk. Below, a single lantern had been lit on the deck of The Cruel Mistress, and its reflection made a long gold scratch across the darkening water.
"What is it?" Cali finally asked. "What secret do the sirens have that could ruin you?"
Bonnie peered at the cove and ran one finger along the inside of her goblet’s rim. "That’s quite a question to answer over the first drink."
"Then I'll make you a trade." Cali squared her shoulders. "I'll tell you the secret that not even my closest friends know.”
The pirate was quiet long enough that Cali thought she might refuse. Then she let out a breath that sounded as if it had been held for some time. "All right."
So, Cali told her about her first crew. How they’d been no good.
None except for Adelaide. Her voice became wistful as she talked about how close they’d gotten and how they’d shared a dream of leaving together.
She didn’t meet the pirate’s eyes as she told her how she’d come back to the camp and found Adelaide gone.
How there’d been no trace of her. How she’d never known why.
“You love her,” Bonnie whispered.
Cali thought about this. She had loved her, but that version of herself was long gone, as was the woman she’d loved.
“I did. A part of me always will, I suppose. But now I just want to know that she’s okay.
I just want to know what happened. That’s why I’ve been looking for her in every quest since. ”
Bonnie had set down her goblet. Her hand found Cali's paw on the table and rested over it, warm and unhurried. "Why have you never told your friends?"
“I suppose I didn’t want their pity, and I didn’t want to make my search into something that hung over everything we did.”
Bonnie was quiet for a moment. "Why tell me, then?"
Cali laughed, and it came out more honestly than she'd intended. "Because I doubt I'll run into you again after this. And I genuinely want to know what secret a pirate captain could have. I have a feeling it was a good trade.”
What she didn’t admit was that she’d wanted to tell Bonnie. She felt like her secret was safe with her. Despite Bonnie’s notorious reputation, her gut told her she could trust the woman.
The serving girl appeared then with her vestigial wings tucked flat, as she set platters of boiled shellfish between them. Spice sharpened the salt air, and steam curled up from the blistered shells. Then the girl was gone again.
Bonnie reached forward and picked up one of the clawed creatures from the platter. She examined it for a moment, then set it back down. “I suppose it’s my turn.” She leaned back in her chair and reached up, unhooking the eye patch with two fingers and pulling it away.
Beneath it was an eye. A perfectly good blue eye.
Cali looked at it. Then she looked at the eye patch in Bonnie's hand. Her jaw went slack. "You don't need that."
Bonnie blinked as her eye adjusted to the light, and she shook her head.
“But why—“ Cali asked.
“Because I’m not Bonnie One-Eye.”