Chapter 24 #3
Well, that was disappointing. “But how does it compare to the monotony of salted meat?”
“I have an idea for dinner, m’lord.” Finished rifling through his pack, he stood, his hands full.
“Do you need assistance?”
“That would cut down the wait time before we eat.”
Convinced, I stood and followed him down to the pier.
Dusk was steadily robbing us of daylight, so I conjured up an icy ball of light.
He had me secure one end of the netting material as he unrolled it.
We situated it on the pier, and he opened a small glass jar to emit a putrid, fishy stench that declared war on my nostrils.
I snorted in disgust. “What on earth is that?”
“Bait. The smellier the better.”
“Then that must be the top of the line.”
Grinning, he smeared the bait over the flattened net as I gathered driftwood and stones, arranging the supplies on the pier.
Scooping up the net, he slipped into the water with a splash, handing me one end to hold while he extended his end from the pier outward.
Sending the light to follow him, I kept one eye on the water while supplying him with driftwood and stones to secure the net.
“Do you prefer the net to fishing with a pole?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t say I prefer it, but this is how all Norse children are taught,” he said matter-of-factly. “Besides, the net fits in my bag.”
“Wise of you to bring it.” Especially considering that this was only supposed to be a quick trip to Seattle and back.
“Live as long as I have, m’lord, and you will discover that life rarely goes to plan.”
We hauled ourselves from the water and scavenged more driftwood, building a pile that Tyrin lit with the flint and steel he seemed to produce from nowhere. The fire took hold, its crackling heat relaxing after hours of exertion.
Tyrin returned to the water to check his net. The tide had crept in during our preparations, and the waterline now reached his shoulders. He dove, and the surface closed over him.
As seconds passed and he neglected to surface, I moved to the pier for a better vantage point, fingers tightening around Silentium’s grip. These waters were unfamiliar, and I would not lose my húskarl to whatever lurked beneath the surface.
Finally, a mop of brown hair breached the waves.
Tyrin swore as he surfaced, locked in combat with a thrashing rose-colored fish that seemed personally offended by its capture.
Tyrin wrestled it to shore, produced a switchblade, and gutted it with the efficiency of a man who cleaned his catch often.
Entrails were flung back to the sea, and he rinsed blade and fish alike before carving fillets with practiced strokes.
We roasted the snapper over the fire using long, thin sticks, and a sprinkle of garlic, dill, and sea salt Tyrin had in his bag.
The fish had a clean, light flavor with the barest hint of a nutty aftertaste.
Wood smoke added a complexity that danced over my taste buds, making me wonder whether the kobolds would pair it with rice pilaf or scalloped potatoes.
Perhaps I should freeze a fillet and take it home… .
By the time we finished the snapper, Tyrin’s net had collected a grouper, two coral trout, and a teal-colored fish he had never encountered before. We ate our fill in silence, watching the flames flicker.
The fire died to embers as the night stretched on. Tyrin dozed against a boulder, his breathing deep and even, while I kept watch over the dark water. The artifact’s pull steadily drew closer, confirming my estimation about its arrival.
A splash too loud to be from a fish drew my attention to the shallows near the pier. I rose to my feet, Silentium instantly in my hand, and closed in on the disturbance.
Nothing moved in the moonlight. The sea lay still, offering a mirror of the night sky so perfect it blurred the boundary between reflection and reality.
Something shimmered at the end of the pier, a pulse of luminescence beneath the surface, there and gone so quickly that I questioned whether it was merely a trick of the light.
Notes of a song stirred in my chest. The wordless melody consumed me with an insatiable desire to investigate. My feet obeyed, unable to resist the pull until a stone, sharp as a blade, sliced into my heel.
Pain burned through the song’s hold, severing it like a knife through butter.
I staggered, surprised to find myself at the end of the dock, mere steps from plunging into the water.
The song crooned for me again, but my head cleared, igniting a fury that burned hotter than any shame.
A dragon lord, lured like a witless fish to a baited net.
Tyrin. I spoke to his mind to avoid alerting the creature that kept calling to me with its song.
He was on his feet instantly, axe in hand. Spotting me, he sprinted for the dock.
The shimmer vanished, and the song stopped.
Muscles coiled, Silentium at the ready, I backed off the pier. Unease settled in my chest like a stone as I stared out at the black water, wishing for a foe I could sink my blade into.
What other horrors would we face before morning?