Opposing Colours

by TerriyakiBlack

Summary:

Z has spent more years than he can remember in the Sea of Thieves. Blue is far more new. They come to an agreement to sail together temporarily, but they can’t seem to get away from each other, stay out of trouble, or stop making new friends and enemies.

Updates every other Friday when chapters are available.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Summary:

The crew of the Reaper’s Call hasn’t been getting along while they’re all stuck in open ocean during a becalming. After spending some time apart, that starts to change, eventually prompting a question.

Notes:

This prologue is written in a forward-present-looking-back sort of way. That is to say, it takes place in the future. Supposedly — I joke(?) that this moment might not be canon to the overall story, and then the story goes back in time. As a result, you don’t actually need to read this to avoid missing anything, though it does serve as an indicator of where the story and characters eventually go, which might be important to some people.

For those who might be fandom-blind or just like a reference, I’ve (finally) put together basic galleries to help people familiarise themselves with the general layout of a typical ship on the Sea of Thieves, be it a sloop, brigantine, or a galleon, as they are standardised to quite an extent. That is to say, everything on every ship on the Sea is going to be in the same spot. Mostly. We take certain liberties here. Also, storage crates!

• Sloop gallery
• Brigantine gallery
• Galleon gallery

Lastly: a ton of this story has been pre-written and pre-planned. Despite that, I am quite happy for SPAG errors (spelling, punctuation, and grammar) to be pointed out, as well as anything else that might be a(n obvious) mistake. I’m always willing to change those sort of things and 99.9% of this has not been beta read.

A typical galleon found upon the Sea of Thieves housed four crew members. This, however, was the Reaper’s Call, a very atypical galleon and her crew currently numbered six, all of whom were strewn about the ship.

For how many times this had happened before and would happen again, Z thought that the crew would have found better ways to cope with being stuck under becalmed conditions. The last time the wind had abandoned them, they were in the company of another ship and her crew and it proved to be an immense boon to everyone’s boredom. This time they were not even at an island. They did have a rowboat and there were plenty of ideas of what they could do with it, but with no land reasonably nearby, there was no point. Everyone much preferred to keep it than to risk it in a scheme to stave off boredom, anyhow.

They were stuck in open water. So many islands seemed close, yet they were totally out of reach. The crew would have to make do with what they had aboard the ship. There was nothing that they found themselves needing, but soon their wants grew into irritations that they could not ignore. Fishing became tedious and even the most delicious catches became boring to their mouths. Eating the bait and seeing who was the least sick — or who could hold their stomach entirely — only kept them amused for so long. Fruit and grog were there as well, but those had to be rationed responsibly to avoid causing any unnecessary trips to the Ferry. Blue’s rum stash had saved their sanity many times before so her comment of wanting to replenish that stung like a wasp nest.

Z had not left the cabin in nearly three days now, only stepping out onto the balcony to make sure that the others had not killed each other when their shouting became more energetic than he was comfortable with. At present, he lazily sat at the desk, head tilted so that he stared at the ceiling where the wheel was. He had grown tired of writing and found this to be a comfortable position to be in while he cleared his mind, but now it wandered. Blue had strung a hammock up between the wheel and railing to rest in when she had become tired of dealing with the crew, claiming the entire quarter-deck for herself. Z couldn’t help wondering if she’d moved at all in the past few days.

Today he had the front door open so that he could better observe the few movements there were on deck. Not terribly long after he did that, Ven dropped his bulk down from his hammock near the top of the main-mast to go on walkabout. He and Edmund had spoken very little before this, yet now they struck up a conversation. In itself, this was not strange, but Z found himself wondering if Ven had come down in the first place simply because the door was open. He reasoned that he couldn’t be too upset about that if it led to two of his shipmates getting to know each other a little better. He definitely could not complain when the remaining two crew members came topside and the quartet sat at the fore-deck. After a few days of everyone staying apart, tempers seemed to have cooled enough for the group to play cards. Their situation had not changed, so thankfully it was a quiet game with no one pushing anyone’s boundaries. Despite the good he saw in this, Z couldn’t help his mood souring slightly as he observed.

In the time they had been stuck, there had been hardly anything to add to the ship’s logbook. It had been dreadful to force himself to write in it. Putting their situation down to paper on a day-to-day basis was hard. Despite that, Z had not wanted to neglect it and break his newly forged habit. The other book before him, however, was at its last page, the binding filled. Writing down his wandering thoughts and previous adventures had been so much easier than documenting their current struggle; fun even. He had only begun the book in earnest a few days ago when everyone began isolating themselves. Perhaps, he decided, he should take a break, clean up and go join them.

Once sure that the ink was dry, the book was closed. The quill was put in its stand beside the inkwell, which he inspected; as usual, he had made too much ink. Z had an excuse to come back and fill the logbook with something interesting. That binding was placed in the middle of the desk, everything else pushed to the side.

With a tidier space accomplished, he lifted his head to observe the deck again. In the time that he had in tending to his writing tools, the group had spread out and someone had disappeared. He was about to stand and investigate when a commotion started above him and he paused, head tilting as though he could look through the ceiling. He heard Blue yell, someone whoop, the others laugh, and then everyone but Ven was on their feet. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised to see that someone had snuck their way up to the wheel to disturb the other isolated crew member. Being obnoxious to forcefully get someone’s attention was an old song and dance within this crew, even if they had all wordlessly acknowledged that they shouldn’t right now. Yet, to take her golden mask and taunt her with it seemed quite bold of Marcus. Even with his wiry frame, his hair was so tall that Z wasn’t sure how he had managed to be stealthy.

With a solid thud, Blue’s boots hit the deck just beyond the door, their owner having vaulted over the railing; her white garments were striking against the ship’s dark hull. One hand rested upon her sword’s grip, fingers drumming a threatening beat, ready to snatch her mask back when the opportunity presented itself. She seemed much more agitated than Z expected her to be, yet he wasn’t sure if anyone else could sense it. A body or two being sent to the Ferry would ease the strain on their supplies, this was true, but would that do any good for the crew’s morale?

Z found his feet and made his way to the doorway as the others’ game progressed. Three surrounded Blue, tossing her mask to and fro, teasing her as they did. Ven had not stood from his seat near a harpoon and merely observed; surely he could see that this was not sporting for everyone involved. As Z took a few steps onto the deck, he felt certain that their newest crew member’s stillness confirmed that suspicion, it had to, or else there was something else that stilled Ven that he could not discern.

Someone yelped and grabbed a handful of rigging, lunging upwards before giving the mask of a good toss. Another caught it and wiggled about on his feet, taunting Blue until she came closer to him. The three pirates surrounding her used their lean frames to dance about the deck as though they were cats in this game. Only when the chunk of gold was tossed again was Z able to intercept it, giving his oldest friend a good shove and inserting himself into the middle of the group.

“All right, that’s enough out of you lot.” Though he was concerned, the entire thing had been slightly amusing to watch so Z couldn’t help a small grin, a quirked brow. It was good to see everyone’s spirits lifted, but he didn’t approve of what had just transpired and so everyone except Blue was given as much of a look of disappointment as he could muster. He turned halfway to her when she was close and the item was passed over. “I know you guys are bored, but there’s plenty t’ do if y’ need t’ burn some energy.”

Jackson seemed the most offended by that statement, or perhaps he was annoyed at being pushed. “Like what?”

Z shrugged. “Go through our supplies. Organise and count.”

“There’re twenty-three splashtails in the fish barrel. Twelve are rubies, two of which are trophy-sized. Every single one is perfectly cooked and still edible, if chewy, if you so please.” Ven tilted his head at the other, taking in the expression he wore now. “We’ve a barrel filled evenly with firebombs and blunderbombs alike. Do you really need a count of those alongside the twenty-three cursed cannonballs we have? Three are the wraiths we have left after that little skirmish, by the way, and we didn’t use any of the ballast-balls.”

Z brought his hands up, exasperated. He spared a glance to Blue — she had replaced her mask and was again fully hidden behind her wardrobe — though she didn’t seem to be paying attention. Z opened his mouth to speak, but it was Edmund who spoke first.

“W-We have exactly f-four times as many nails than planks and two-two dozen extra…” He twisted his lips and almost looked as though he was sad about this.

Ven looked between the two men and chuckled. “We’ve all gone through the supplies, mate. It’s all counted. … And documented?”

He slowly drew a breath. Z knew this, he had written all of this down when it was originally reported to him and told everyone to come back to him if there were any meaningful changes to their supply situation. No one had.

“Truly, there is very little to do.” It was Blue who spoke, done making minor adjustments to her hood and hair. “All anyone has to do here is sit with their thumbs up each other’s arses. That pitiful breeze will not be taking us anywhere.” The tips of the ship’s pennant flags fluttered slightly against the masts. The sails could have been fully unfurled and they would have moved none. The crew may have even wondered if they were moving backwards.

“Yeah, okay, I get it. Whatever jobs there are t’ do, you’ve all done ‘em thrice over. I get it.” Z gave a defeated sigh. “You all know better, though.” He pointed to the group in general and spoke deliberately. “Find somethin’ else t’ do. Or, by Flameheart’s beard, keep catchin’ splashtails. They’re good coin; we could spend that on somethin’ that’ll keep us en’ertained the next time this happens, and we all know it’ll eventually happen again.”

The majority of the crew seemed interested in those words. Ideas brewed in their heads and they were eager to share them. Z did notice that Ven wasn’t quite as enthused by this, but it just seemed normal at this point. Blue, on the other hand, had retreated back to the quarter-deck and he found himself following her up the stairs all the way to the stern’s railing.

“You that mad at them?”

“Hm?” She acted as though she hadn’t heard him or was unsure what he was referring to, then shook her head. “Hardly. I am not in the mood is all.”

“Half a week’s a while t’ be in a mood.” She shifted, stood a little straighter, and Z wondered if he shouldn’t have said that. “Jus’ sayin’. It is.”

“Is it? Is being stuck in open water with no means to move not something to be pissed about? We set off to start our first voyage in ages, to find anything, and here we are with nothing. It is rubbish and you know it or you would not have locked yourself away in the cabin these last few days.”

Z sighed again and leaned heavily against the railing. “We all know this sucks. I’m jus’ tryin’ t’ keep spirits high. It’d be nice t’ not have anyone die this time around.”

“For what reason?”

“Wh—” He nearly repeated her question, momentarily stunned. Instead, he laughed, realising that she was being quite silly. “Well, it’s pretty nice when people don’t die, y’know!”

“Is it now?” Blue was definitely toying with him.

“Uh huh. We’ve suffered through calm winds a few times now. I’d like t’ get the crew through it at least once without someone dyin’ somehow.”

She gave him an overly exasperated sigh. “Yes, I suppose that might be a nice accomplishment. Last time…” She let the sentence trail off, finding that it was incredibly easy to reminisce about. She looked at him.

“Last time?” he repeated. The two looked at each other for a moment before bursting out in laughter. “Yeah, I think… I think we could all do with not ever repeatin’ anythin’ that happened last time. Can’t help the fuckin’ wind, but everythin’ else?”

“Fuck everything else.” They laughed again.

“Yeah, fuck that. That was… no-no, I guess it could have been worse. It can always be worse.” Blue gave him a sideways look. Z shrugged and continued: “I’m sure it could’ve been worse. There was no kraken.”

“Fair,” she said, nodding.

The pair was quiet for a bit, getting comfortable on the quarter-deck. Z leaned back against the railing while Blue leaned her elbows on it, sometimes gazing down at the lifeless water. They silently appreciated each other’s company, listened to the indistinct conversations taking place on the other side of the ship, but the air between them was tense. Z couldn’t stand it and wished so desperately that he had gotten up right away and left the mess on the desk for later. Her mood weighed heavily on his mind.

“So, is that why you haven’t left this spot?” he inquired.

Blue shifted, leaning more against the railing; he was sure she considered ignoring him. Then she groaned and stood upright. “Partly… partly. This is where I am most comfortable. That and you barricaded yourself in the cabin. I like it up here and it is a good place to look out from and it is away from the rest of the deck.” She shrugged at him. “There is not much else I could ask for, is there?”

He couldn’t help grinning at that, saying, “Well, y’re always welcome to share the cabin with me.” She gave him a look that he wasn’t sure what to make of, especially when she didn’t respond right away.

“… It is a little claustrophobic in there now, is it not?”

“I might not want t’ be ‘round anyone very much right now, but I’ll always make an exception for you,” he reasoned. It took such a long time for her to make a small noise of realisation that it seemed like she had to force it. He wasn’t sure what to make of that.

The two loitered in silence a while longer before Blue’s attention turned to their shipmates, the group scattered now. Ven, proving again to not be very social, had ascended and draped himself across the lowest yard of the main mast while Jackson and Edmund were busied with a conversation. Where their doctor had gone, neither had seen.

“It’s awfully quiet now.” Of course, Z couldn’t stand the silence.

“Not as quiet as it was earlier.”

He made a face; she was right, they both knew that, but that was downright rude. He just wanted a conversation, even if he was failing miserably to start one. Blue really was in a mood. He couldn’t stand it when she was like that.

“What do you want?” Blue spoke before he could.

“I— what?” He was taken aback by how direct she was.

“What do you want?” she repeated, speaking more slowly. “You have made your first appearance in near four days to ‘save’ me and now you follow me like a lost pup. I see your reasoning for coming out, keeping peace should it have ever been in danger, but now you stand and act as a sentinel… why, precisely?” She paused for effect. “Do you want something? Or did you not realise how lazy and lonely you had become in that room until now?”

All the colour had drained from his face as she spoke. He hated how easily she could read him, and how cruelly she had just used that against him. He should have expected it; he was being very clingy. He pulled his gaze away from hers before his face could become flush with colour again, crossing his arms as though he weren’t perturbed at all. “J… jus’ bored is all.”

She chuckled haughtily. “Uh huh…”

With him properly chastised, Blue could fully focus on the rest of the crew. A little bit of excitement after their respite seemed to have done them well. Even if she appeared fine now, it didn’t sit well with Z that the crew had decided to have fun at the sake of her well-being. Or perhaps he’d read the situation completely and utterly wrong and she had found it fun, too. Now he wondered. When Blue started back to the main-deck, he followed close behind.

Ven dropped down from the mast and situated himself at the base of the staircase opposite of the pair. They stepped off the last stair and he called, “Captain on deck!” Z had to spare a curious look to their newest shipmate. On the other hand, it excited Edmund that much more while Jackson just seemed relieved when the other’s attention came off him.

“I-I need your thoughts on this,” he started, excited. Edmund shifted in his position, unsure who to face the most. He ended up glancing between the two of them as he spoke. “Y’know how some of the sh-shopkeepers have those little music box things? You give the knob a, uh, um, a little spin and it plays… it plays a little tune. Sounds pretty good, right? What if we had those that played voices? Huh?”

Z and Blue had to take a moment to look at each other, stunned. The music boxes that some people kept were amusing little things, but never had they seemed useful for much of anything. Z rose a brow slightly. “Well… that’s, uh…” Words eluded him.

“What would be the point?” Ever so on the nose, Blue was.

Edmund shrugged, making an ‘iunno’ noise as he did. “Wouldn’t it be neat though? Y-you-you could leave voice notes for people in-instead of writing somethin’ down for them!”

The two had to take another moment to look between each other; then they looked to Jackson. He still sat beside their crewmate, but he stared down at the deck with an expression of defeat. He didn’t acknowledge them beyond a slow shake of his head.

“But why?” Blue asked again. “What’s wrong with a written note?” She wanted a specific answer.

“N… nothin’, I guess,” Edmund said, making a face as though he was thinking very hard, a hand on his chin, fingers drumming once. “But how do you know a written note is actually from who it says it’s from? Or-or that they weren’t forced to write it?”

Blue tilted her head, putting her hands on her hips. “Fair.” Edmund looked pleased with himself. “Now, how do you propose we prevent that from happening with auditory messages?” He looked less confident now, shocked even, as Blue made a very valid point. This seemed to catch the interest of Jackson and Ven as well and the three awaited a response.

Z saw the problem with this idea, where Blue was going with her line of thinking, and continued with it. “If you had to make someone do somethin’ like that, then wouldn’t it be easier to make someone write a note? If you forced someone to make one of these voice messages, you’d be hearin’ somethin’ wrong in their voice.”

Edmund looked as though he’d had a realisation. Surely this couldn’t work; the idea was ridiculous. Then he reasoned, speaking completely seriously: “Then it’s got to also record a moving picture to show that the recorder is safe and sound.”

Jackson shook his head vigorously now. Blue recoiled and exchanged yet another look with Z. Ven just stared at the sentient toothpick and was the first to speak.

“Are you insane?”

“No, ju-just sober,” Edmund responded sadly after a moment. The others showed their agreement in varying ways, a few quiet comments, nods of the head — Ven was even more appalled by this.

“I suppose this may be one of the more reasonable ideas you have shared with us during downtime,” Blue interjected. Edmund was proud of that, a toothy grin spreading across his face. “With so much magic here, it might not be that unreasonable of a concept. Ridiculous, but not wholly unreasonable.”

“Moving, speaking pictures are not impossibly ridiculous to you?” Ven shot back. Blue just looked at him, stared, and kept staring until it became uncomfortable for everyone. He yielded first and broke his gaze from hers, looking down and away; she laughed.

“It is not impossible to imagine and it would not be the strangest thing that we have seen here.”

“The things we’ve seen together,” Z said. He had meant the things that she and he had experienced together, but that didn’t stop most everyone from chuckling and nodding in agreement. Every one of the crew had a long history with each other and thus had their own stories of sailing the Sea of Thieves.

“This is a pretty strange place,” Jackson commented. He and everyone else took note of Marcus finally reappearing, coming up the stairs from the lower decks. He gave everyone a wave with his free hand, the other occupied with a tankard. “Hey! Where’ve you been?”

The question was ignored in favour of Edmund being approached and given the mug. “Try this,” Marcus said, a little too eager.

It definitely wasn’t grog, anyone in the forming crowd could see that, though no one could pinpoint what it was. Edmund gave it a sniff and grimaced. “Wh-what is this?” he asked, concerned.

“Try it,” Marcus reiterated, grinning.

Edmund gave him an unconvinced look before giving in and sipping at the drink. He coughed hard and cursed. “What is this?!” he spat, fighting the urge to vomit. The others were all giving each other curious glances now, the atmosphere becoming somewhat distressing.

“Mostly mangoes and pomegranates. I was hoping the bananas would make it taste better, but I guess not,” Marcus answered, resting his chin on the side of his fist.

“Make what taste better?” Z asked, not entirely certain that he understood correctly.

Blue, on the other hand, did understand. “Have you been making moonshine?” she inquired, her tone slightly accusatory. She only looked mildly surprised when Marcus smiled and nodded.

“I have! I’ve been dipping my toes into the pool of alcohol crafting lately. This is no brew, but…” Marcus shrugged. “Well, it gets the job done. When you said you didn’t have a rum stash anymore, I found a barrel that was almost empty and… repurposed it?” Blue was giving him a look as though she didn’t approve. “For the good of the crew, of course…”

“For the good of the crew,” she repeated. She couldn’t help noticing Edmund eyeing the tankard in his hand before sipping at it again. This time he was prepared for the awful taste and didn’t recoil so hard, able to drink a little more. She shook her head and chuckled.

“You guys gotta try this. It tastes like shit, bu-but… but whoa!” He slurred his words a little more than he stuttered.

The rest of the crew exchanged worried glances. Marcus took the mug away from the guy, but not to drink from it himself. Instead, he held it out for someone else to try, furthering everyone’s concerned expressions.

“I’ve tried it myself. It’s awful, but it’ll get you real drunk real fast,” he said, words that offered some comfort. Jackson trusted their shipmate and accepted the offer, but even with some amount of preparation, he, too, found himself coughing. He passed the mug to Z who didn’t even try to hide his apprehension but tried it nonetheless; his reaction was similar. When he offered it to Ven, the other just gave him an unimpressed stare and Blue had already stepped away from the others before the tankard could reach her.

“I suppose there is no harm. We have been out here for… for a while…” She trailed off as though to consider exactly how long they had been becalmed, then simply shook her head. She glanced about the crew to assess everyone’s condition and mood before looking to Marcus again. “I presume we still have plenty to eat if no one noticed the fruit you used going missing?”

He nodded in response.

“Do we have any pork?” Jackson interjected.

“If we do, it is quite old. Not very good for eating and even less good for getting the fat out of,” was Blue’s response, guessing his intentions. “A wildsplash may suffice instead…” That seemed to lift his spirits. “Just make sure you use the brown ones, yeah?” He nodded and bolted downstairs.

“We don’t have any popcorn then?” Z asked. Blue shook her head.

“There is some splashtail jerky…” He made a face at her, to which she shrugged.

Marcus spoke up: “I caught a ruby earlier. I could fry that up instead.” Everyone was more welcoming of this idea.

“I do recall your over-fried splashtail tasting better than any jerky we ever made,” Blue said thoughtfully, nodding a moment later. Yes, that was a nice idea. The rest of the crew voiced their excitement. “Make up a nice dinner for everyone then, would you?”

Much of the crew found themselves downstairs at some point to prepare food or let it be known what they wanted. Everyone was eager to sate their cravings as best they could, to be merry with food and drink, the rationing temporarily forgotten or ignored thanks to Marcus’s unauthorised — but much appreciated — moonshine.

With snacks being sorted out, some attention was then diverted to where the crew would converge properly for the first time since losing the wind. Even with cooler temperatures, no fires had been allowed anywhere on the ship except inside the lanterns. This had not stopped Edmund from asking about it one more time, unable to help himself. This time Blue gave him the okay.

“Mind yourself,” she started to tell him, grabbing his arm before he could scurry off. “We will cover this grate and you will build a fire here—” she pointed to the one between the captain’s cabin door and the main mast “—and you will take very good care to build it properly. Marcus and I will check your work just in case. We’ll not have a repeat of what happened to your sloop when it last left the bay, shall we?” Everyone found this to be agreeable. No one wanted to burn the Call down; that would be a very silly tale to tell at an outpost. Edmund gave her a sad noise before he disappeared to find kindling.

Though it had been quite some time since the crew had taken the ship to an island, longer still a proper port, they had excess supplies that made for an exciting party. The fire was a modest thing, yet it may as well have been a raging bonfire on a beach for what it did to the crew’s spirits. Even Ven had found a place to sit himself down at amongst the crew, though Blue still kept to herself upon the quarter-deck. Everyone involved was in a good mood, drinking or not, and while everyone ultimately meant well, the excess energy the crew had was beginning to show itself.

When taunting came his way, Ven made it clear he wasn’t perturbed by words. This led to Jackson and Marcus pushing the matter, suggesting that each of them could take him on in a friendly competition. A scrawny squad made up of the thin forms of Jackson, Marcus, and Edmund could have posed a threat to anyone but Ven, who was still larger than everyone else. Z was not a small man by any means and the other still had an entire head over him. He had no wish to spar with him and was appalled when Jackson suggested it.

“I don’t plan on wakin’ up with anythin’ more than a hangover tomorrow,” Z responded. “So, fuck you and fuck that and fuck you.” That got a chuckle out of the group.

With Z firmly sidelined, the idea had somehow come up that the other three could face Ven in a three-on-one competition. Whether this was fair or not was discussed momentarily until Edmund voiced his disinterest; he was too drunk, too cheery, and he preferred to be a spectator anyway. Jackson and Marcus were so thoroughly enthused with this idea that they considered continuing as a duo.

Ven had been nursing the same tankard all evening; he was of perfectly sound mind. Blue was, too. Everyone else was quite inebriated, something she could see. Z had been able to look out for himself, but the others would have to be told. Still up at the helm, she did just that, scolding all of them for this and that. Everyone looked to her and voiced their annoyances of her interference to varying levels, but Ven yielded immediately to her word and so the rest of the crew would have no other option but to relax as well. They quietly grumbled their grievances until Z, in a moment of clarity, pointed out how it seemed like they had tried ganging up on their newest crewmate for no discernible reason. They reconsidered and their previous rambunctiousness settled. Sporting fun or not, Z was glad for this, his goal of no deaths this becalming that much closer.

Somehow, a story had begun. Edmund was now standing with purpose, poorly reenacting the shock he felt one evening when he arrived at an outpost that he had thought to be empty. There had been no ships about, the shops were closed, yet a trio of pirates greeted him on the beach as though nothing were amiss. A small detail was called into question and the crew was bickering about it. Ven, however, saw the bigger picture.

“How did you get there in the first place?”

“Rowboat!” Jackson chirped, pointing a finger at him for no reason.

Ven mentally berated himself for not asking a better question when all of his idiotic company was currently drunk. “What business did you have at that outpost that didn’t require your ship?”

“Y’see… the funny thing about that ship…” Jackson couldn’t keep a straight face, couldn’t help that his giggles turned into full-blown belly laughs. Edmund and Z found themselves laughing with him.

“Bad things happened to that ship,” Blue chimed in from her perch, musical delight in her voice. Ven didn’t look any more enlightened. “We lost the ship, but not our lives, nor our, ah, newly acquired goods.” She shrugged when he stared at her in disbelief.

“And what series of events led to this?” Ven inquired.

Blue took a moment to think. “Certainly, there was a series of events with many factors, though I am unsure whether any were quite as relevant as quadruple our own number of cannons being fired upon us…”

“We did not make good decisions that day,” Jackson commented.

Z chuckled, adding, “No, no, we made mistakes that day.”

Blue tilted her head. “Really now? I recall you being quite eager to face our doom!”

“And… and what the hell happened exactly?” Ven asked. The rest of the crew was having a bit of a laugh. If asked, he would say it was at his expense for surely he was the only one here who hadn’t heard this story in some way or another. He pointed at Edmund; “Your story is amusing yet only because of pure recklessness on your part. You—” he pointed at Blue “—can’t simply suggest that there was a war leadin’ up to this little meeting of yours!”

Blue stayed at her post, shrugging coolly. “Why not? That is essentially what happened.” She looked to Z and Jackson. “Is it not?” They laughed.

Everyone was most certainly having a laugh at his expense, Ven decided. “One of you—” he looked between the four individuals that had a place somewhere within this story; Marcus was sat off to the side and hardly able to hold his drink or sit upright he was giggling so hard “—needs to explain what the hell happened earlier in this tale.”

Blue tilted her head. “I am sure that you will find more questions to ask.” He gave her an exasperated look. “See, part of the reason we lost that ship was because I could not wield a sword at the time.” His expression became one of concern. “See? More questions.” Blue noticed the others giving her similar looks now. “What?”

“I know it’s not really that relevant anymore, but… you never mentioned that to him?” Marcus asked.

“Not relevant at all anymore. Why would I mention it to anyone?”

“Mention what?!” All eyes went to Ven; he was reasonably upset about these things that he didn’t know about but that yell had been startling.

“Questions, questions. Keep interrupting and you might as well just ask how Z and Jackson first found each other, or how far back Jackson and Rylund go.” Blue couldn’t help finding some amusement in this. He usually didn’t talk much, but when he did, he either had something very important to say, or it was like this and Ven made a conversation go on and on, far beyond where it needed to go. Uncommon as it was, she was ready to keep poking him when she noticed an uneasy expression crossing Jackson’s face.

“Uh, speaking of that… how did you and Z meet?” he asked. That got everyone’s attention. The crew exchanged looks that differed from worrisome to curious.

Sobering up a little bit, Z looked to Blue and spoke up. “Have… have we not talked about that?”

“I suppose not. I’ve not. You’ve not?” He shook his head at her words. The two of them each looked at their veteran crew members. “Then… no. Hmm. Curious. We have told our story of meeting Edmund so many times.”

“I know I’ve asked!” the aforementioned twig hollered.

“Right, right… Ah, yes, after that ambush at the Hideout. I do believe I told you to go the fuck to sleep.” Blue nodded to herself; that sounded about right.

“Have we really never talked about how we met?” Z asked again, incredulous.

“Why would we?” Blue shot back. He couldn’t tell what sort of tone of hers that was, if it was sarcastic or rhetorical or even literal.

“Well, I want to hear!” Edmund interjected, still much louder than he needed to be.

“It really is not that interesting.”

Z rose a brow at her. “It’s pretty interesting.” Blue gave him an unimpressed look. “Okay, fine, not really, but you and I did pull some crazy shit together after we got used to each other. And with the crew. You really think we would’ve managed it on our own?”

“Perhaps.”

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Z shot back. “Without us, without me, you never would’ve had the idea t’ steal that map, then we never would’ve gone t’ the Roar and then t’ Galleon’s Grave. We never would’ve ended up at Old Faithful, never would’ve ended up here. That was fate, mate.” Z was feeling quite haughty.

“Fate be damned.” Blue’s tone was venomous. Had that made Ven uneasy? Z wondered what that was about. Everyone else either didn’t care or wasn’t sober enough to notice his tense posture. And had anyone else noticed how quiet he had become?

“I’ve made my point, though, haven’t I?” Z reiterated.

Blue huffed and leaned heavily against the helm’s railing. “Yes, I suppose you have made an argument I cannot tear down.” He beamed slightly at that. “However, that does—”

“I wanna hear this stoorrryyy!” Edmund was whining now. The others murmured their agreement; Ven concurred loudly. Everyone wanted to hear this tale.

Blue’s expression at this point was quite indiscernible, mask or not. She put an elbow on the railing, chin resting in that arm’s hand, still as she looked down at the others. Z paid her little mind; the crew had cast their vote. He had no idea this had somehow become a secret and found himself eager to share.

“Okay, okay, so—” Z stopped himself, finding his tankard annoying. He gulped down what remained of his moonshine, shivered in repulsion, and forced himself to keep it down before tossing the mug aside. “So,” he started again, excited; “down in the Isles, I had just taken this galleon’s—”

“Oh, would you stop that?” Blue chided. “You are terrible at telling stories at your best. Now, you can hardly stand straight and you are slurring your words. Sit down by the fire.” Z was damn near ready to fight her over this, hands tightening as he gave her an insulted look. She stood tall between the wheel and railing. “If this story must be told, then I will tell it and tell it proper. I suppose you are right after all.” Z just about fell over in relief. Edmund and Jackson cheered a little louder than was necessary while Marcus ducked below deck to fetch everyone more drink.

“I will warn you, this is quite a story. It’s much longer than you realise, one that leads to more adventures, some which you may or may not have been part of yourself or heard of from another, and I am sure that those of you that were not will want to hear of those, too. Some of them have happy endings. Some do not.” Blue could be incredibly dramatic when she wanted to be. Her standing above them at the helm made her words that much more powerful, pulling everyone in with ease.

“You are the best storyteller…” Edmund murmured, eyes adoring.

Blue paused to just stare at him. Then she turned to the slightly thicker man beside him. “Jack, is there—”

“Yeah, I’m on it,” he said, already realising she wanted him to bring more meat to help steel up the alcohol rattled twig. He returned after just a moment with more than enough fried fish for everyone to share. Edmund was heavily encouraged by everyone to eat rather than drink what Marcus had just brought him. With that taken care of, Blue recollected herself and regained her mantle of storyteller above them.

“This is a record of adventures, battles won and lost, of voyages taken here within the Devil’s Shroud, and even some outside of it. This tale does not merely revolve about the great heroes and evils of these waters but also of her people, the neighbourhoods, the creatures that all live upon her territory.

“This story begins in the southern edge of the Ancient Isles on a beautiful day when the sun was highest in the sky, on a day of ample wind with wonderful water at an empty outpost. The skeletons were quiet, no fortresses or fleets loomed on the horizon, in a time before the Damned threatened the living, when dragons slept in their lairs, and when cryptic messages did not wash ashore or drift amid the flotsams. It was a good day.” Blue paused so she could put her hands on either side of the railing. She slouched to one side, nearly resting her head on her own shoulder by the time she was done adjusting her posture. As she did this, her gaze went to Z. He returned the look as he sipped his drink, unable to help a smirk.

“Or it was, until that asshole showed up.”

Chapter 2: Plunder Outpost

Summary:

Chaos ensues when Z steals from a galleon crew. The wind takes him to Plunder Outpost where the chaos grows tenfold.

Nestled firmly in the middle of the Ancient Isles sat Plunder Outpost. Sprawling out in every direction from it were opportunities. Those looking to make some coin would find plenty; if adventure was more someone’s flavour, that could be found, too. Those with the talent to do so could find both on a single outing. On this day, one lone pirate had done just that.

They came from an enormous island along the southern edge of the region. Large and imposing as it was, the waves and wind combined to be even more so. Such conditions required every bit of skill from the sloop’s sole crew member. Trailing behind was a galleon that had some edge in the poor conditions thanks to her many sails, regardless of her larger crew’s capabilities. The gap between the ships was gradually closing as they barrelled toward the outpost.

The uneasy conditions carried the two ships to the eastern side of the island. Along that side to the northern end was a dilapidated dock that went unused, crumbling from neglect. Though unsightly, it was sufficient enough at keeping seawater out of the man’s one boot — for the other leg ended in a pegleg prosthetic — as he leaped off the sloop’s deck, plundered chest in hands. The galleon, however, was still too far behind to try to stop him right at that moment and so her crew reefed the sails and turned the ship to point the guns in his direction.

The larger ship’s crew was in a panic. Their ship required more coordination than they could muster at the moment, the time they had to retrieve their loot quickly diminishing. Scurrying about the deck, two of them fired themselves from the cannons; one landed in the water, too short to have any hope of stopping their foe, while the other flew too high and went past. The remaining two took a few careful shots at him directly with their cannons; no one wanted to hit any of the island’s residents or buildings and start a war with them. When they no longer had clear shots, they turned their rage to his abandoned sloop.

With knowledge of the whereabouts of the entire galleon crew, there should have been no one in the thief’s way. Lesser traders and company representatives all knew better than to get in the way of a fight, yet he had run right into someone at the entryway of the tavern. He lost his footing and had to sacrifice some of his grip on the chest to reach for his blunderbuss, ready to fight. The polite voice of a woman greeted him instead.

“Chests such as that one go to the Gold Hoarders.”

For a moment he was dumbstruck, genuinely at a loss for what had just transpired. There should have been no other crews here! There was a noise to the western side of the island and both of them turned to look at the sloop that was not his being set on fire. In the skirmish, he had managed to keep the one proper dock at this outpost out of his view the entire time he sailed. Out of sight, out of mind, and he had wrongly assumed that the lack of an obvious, large vessel meant it was vacant of other crews.

“Friends of yours?” she inquired in a tone that he determined to be rhetoric.

If she had meant to, she would have attacked him by now, but this was a very polite pirate — no, with her long, unkempt red hair, even longer dress, the big round hat and all in bright red and gold to contrast his pitch black clothing, he decided that she was no pirate.

With purpose, he brought himself to his feet. One hand never left the chest, the other helping him to yank his pegleg free from a busted plank of the walkway underneath them. “Nope,” he responded drily.

The two that had disembarked from the galleon were now both visible — one from the dock and the other coming up the beach — and so close that there was no time to get the chest sold. One stupid moment may have ruined a damned good steal. The only shining light was that, potentially, there was another body to take a hit for him.

One arm came up to brace cutlass against cutlass, then found a moment of weakness and swooped down along that blade’s owner. A bullet finished that man off and made everyone’s ears ring. Another shot rang out and the second pirate from the galleon chose to lunge forward rather than reload her pistol; she was easily dispatched with a single blast of his trusty blunderbuss.

With a moment to breathe, he reassessed the situation. The docked sloop had quite a little fire stirring on its deck now. Half of the galleon crew was out of the picture, but he saw another leap off the deck of their ship to attempt one last retrieval of their treasure. The woman beside him had pulled the musket that hung on her back into her grip — so it seemed that she had helped. Still, she was in the way.

Certain of himself, he spun around and grabbed the gun at its middle, pressing down on it. His stature was significantly greater than hers so he was stunned by the resistance he was met by. It seemed that this move had not come as a shock to her as she was not manipulated as he had hoped. Would nothing go right today? He was forced to release the chest so that he could introduce her to his sword, or attempt to. He heard a flintlock shot and felt a bullet enter his back, and then his side exploded in pain. Darkness swallowed him before he could consider anything more.

*

The Sea of the Damned was a fickle thing. Time within it was strange, both slow and fast, there and somehow gone entirely before returning with a vengeance. He glanced about the ship, taking in the familiar, unchanging surroundings as though this time he would find something to clue him into… well, anything at all. What this place or vessel was, how much time had passed this trip — there was a plethora of whispers, but never any certainties to anything.

The Ferry’s deck was empty this visit. Everything looked about the same green colour as always, the ghastly hue resonating through everything that was once living, even her captain — he offered a small smile and salute to the Ferryman, neither of which were reciprocated, before stopping at the ship’s main-mast and leaning against it, waiting.

The chest! Painful realisation filled him like a days-old meal. Surely he had lost it. Now he wondered if the woman had been toying with him so she could claim it herself or if the galleon had reclaimed it. He looked to the helm, considered pressing a conversation with the skipper. They could discuss the subject of the chest or anything, anything to help pass the time, but that man was never one for conversation. He wondered if he would ever know. The man above him would never tell, of course; he never told anyone anything.

Underneath the helm, the door of the captain’s cabin swung open. It seemed that nothing was wanted of him and he was thankful for that. He backtracked to the Well of Fate, dipped his lantern in it for his pink Flame, and then stepped forward through the portal.

*

Anyone who said they were used to those trips was a liar. He took a few seconds to recover and then glance about his sloop. The little ship had seen better days, better fights, yet he felt no strong allegiance to it and thus no need to tend to its wounds. It was on the way so he bailed a bucket’s worth of water as he stepped back up to the deck to better see what had happened in his absence.

Mere minutes had passed. The galleon had drifted to the other side of the island, its tall masts barely visible through the island foliage. Cannon fire caught his ear and though he felt certain that it was the galleon cleaning up the other sloop, he still felt the need to investigate. He went below deck for what was surely the last time to stuff his pockets with the best supplies he had, bail another bucket of water, and then he hopped off the deck of this sloop for the last time.

To his great surprise, the chest that had started this whole incident sat not too far from where he had fallen. He stopped and stared at it, glanced to the nearby Gold Hoarders tent — the representative seemed as confused as he was, eyes darting between him and the chest — and then decided to grab it. How it was still there was a grand question, though not one he cared to find the answer to quite yet. He dashed through the tavern’s door and into the shadows uncontested, something he was grateful for, and exchanged the chest for a heavy purse of gold coins.

A little calmer now and satisfied with the outcome of today, he focused on the sounds of fighting at the main dock. That explained why no one had hidden away into the corners of the bar or sold the chest themselves. With this chore taken care of, he coolly made his way down the boardwalk to see what was happening.

The fire that had threatened to ravage the other sloop had been controlled and put out. The ropes had been cut from the dock so that it could defend itself, turned so that a cannon could fire upon the larger ship. With all the fighting it had been doing, whoever was still aboard the battered galleon knew it was in their best interest to limp away or risk their ship at this point.

The sloop remained something of a concern; he had no way of knowing how many people made up its crew. Surely such a well-dressed and fine-speaking woman was not alone. Yet he realised that it was her on the cannon, dress-skirt shaken for the freedom of under-shirt and trousers. Very briefly he froze when she turned to face him, then slowly, confidently, finished that footfall to gauge her reaction. It seemed she had not expected to see him again so soon, alarm flashing across her figure before she shot downstairs. He couldn’t help sprinting down the remainder of the dock and onto the sloop after her, predator chasing prey.

Why she had been on the other side of the map table of all places, he didn’t bother wondering. Her technique for avoiding his blade — sliding under the table and through his legs — was impressive. Chasing her down the second set of stairs was a bad idea if he wanted to win the fight, but he had found his day’s success and cared not what the outcome of this scuffle was. In his respite, he had missed some of the bigger fight; he could make up for that now.

Down in the lowest portion of the ship, his cutlass sloppily bounced off another. The matter remained that he was bigger in all directions than she was and certainly stronger; with her cornered down here, he would employ those facts until they bit him in the ass. That time came far quicker than he expected. Cutlasses came together again, his arm was then twisted, annoying but not a problem. It was the pain in his half-leg that got him, pain that far exceeded its usual complaints. He wasn’t sure what happened exactly, just that it led to losing his footing. Ending up on the floor wouldn’t have been such a problem if the back of his head hadn’t slammed into the stove on the way down.

Consciousness had not been lost entirely, but Z found himself quite dazed. He leaned forward before assessing the situation and a harsh burning sensation crept along his upper arm. With a glance he saw his own sword stood on its tip, keeping that arm hostage — stay still or slice it open. The weight keeping him down was his adversary knelt on his chest. There was a thought to just shove her off until he realised there was a smaller blade pressed against the side of his neck. Continuing to fight would simply lead to another trip to the Ferry and while that wasn’t a problem, the look on her face gave him another idea.

“Didn’t expect t’ see me again so soon?” His amusement tapered some when her leg pressed against his throat, unable to help a small choke. He grabbed her ankle with his free hand, moved her leg so that he didn’t struggle to breathe. The fine dagger pressed against his neck threateningly; why she hadn’t opened him up already, he wasn’t sure.

“You took a bullet to the back and a blade to the stomach.” He could see her raise a brow in the ship’s dimly lit hold, her head tilting slightly. “So, no.”

There was something more to this than her being annoyed at the chaos he had brought upon the outpost this morning. The Ferryman was rarely so generous and efficient at returning pirates to their ship after fishing them out of the Sea. Sometimes it took so long that crews joked that they would never see their friends again. Sometimes it wasn’t a joke. Other times, one would come through the door so fast they would joke that they had been kicked off the Ferry. The way she spoke, he didn’t feel like any of these ideas were the case.

Decisively, his hand snapped from her ankle to her wrist. Both blades cut at him as they twisted about, his own quite a lot more. The knife she wielded was tossed far out of anyone’s reach, towards the ship’s stern. She had been so prepared earlier on the outpost that he was surprised by how easily he manipulated her this time. He might have made a point to show how annoying she was by lifting her by the neck until he realised his leg was missing. He settled for pinning arms down instead.

“Okay,” he started, taking a moment to breath and stretch his neck and shoulders out, the burning of his wounds aggravating. He paused; blood dripped down his arm and yet this ship’s hold was otherwise dry. He was impressed. “Okay. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Y’ can tell me where my foot is and I’ll let you up and we can have a nice little talk.” He paused for a moment for effect. “Or I can choke you t’ death with one hand a few times over ‘til I find it meself. Or longer.” He paused, then shrugged as much as he could with his arm in its condition. “Yer choice.”

For someone in her position, she was very calm. When he first slammed her down, he had spotted some sort of shock, brief as it was, a tiny gasp, but now it was all exchanged for disdain. The situation was perplexing; most pirates he came across did not have this amount of control over themselves. He wondered if she was even taking the time to actually consider the options he had presented. Then, just before he could make good on his threat, she drew a long breath and motioned slightly to her left. “Under the bed.”

He looked and rose a brow. This was a very homely little sloop. He quickly glanced about the rest of the hold and found nothing that really stuck out to him except for the previously discarded dagger. Should their understanding not be clear, he could free his cutlass from its position far sooner than she would be able to get past him and grab the blade, so he released her arms and sat himself against the water barrel. She slid past him and went up the stairs, giving him time to collect his belongings.

Early as it was still, the day had been a long and hard one; his leg complained quite a lot as he secured the prosthetic. From the day he lost it, it had given him trouble, but infection seemed to be taking hold as of recent. He had been doing too much. Some medicine would be a good purchase if he could find a doctor to supply it, and if he could remember to save a bit of coin. For now, he’d have to continue soothing himself as needed with drink.

On his feet now, he felt as good as he could. His sword was plucked from the ship’s hull and placed back on his belt. Up the stairs he went, figuring he should finally join the sloop’s crew member and have that talk. Curiously, she was stood about the middle of the main-deck, staring out to sea. When he came to her side and followed her gaze, he understood.

“Is that wreck yours?” she asked, referring to the battered sloop that was currently drifting past and slowly sinking.

He scowled slightly at himself. “Uh, it was.”

“I see.” She gave him a look that he could only determine to be one of disappointment before she turned, heading back down to the captain’s table and seating herself, one leg crossed over a knee. Despite not looking very impressive anymore, she still sat as though she were of great importance, ready to listen. He wasted no time.

“So, now it seems now that I am in need of a ship, and you need a shipmate. I see a clear solution to both our problems right here!” He knew he made a good enough point, and while that would be enough for the average pirate, she seemed to be anything but average. He wasn’t sure if he was bluffing himself. If she already had a shipmate and they had been slain in the fight, he’d have to argue why he ought to take their position before they were back from the Ferry. His trip had been so fast that he felt as though he were working with borrowed time.

“Excuse me? You were not invited onto my ship and you certainly have not been invited to be part of her crew.”

“No, no, y’re right, y’ didn’t invite me, but y’ won’t last much longer out here on yer own.” He grinned haughtily, desperate to hide his desperation.

“When did I say that I was new to this place?” He couldn’t help feeling a tad foolish. “Or that I was alone?” Surely he looked the part, too, now, but he couldn’t fold that easily.

“Y’ didn’t; y’ show it. You and yer ship are too nice t’ have been here very long. Y’ dress too nice. Yer ship still looks pretty. You have too many other nice things y’ don’t need and not enough supplies on the decks.”

They stared at each other for a very long moment, neither willing to call the other’s bluff. It was terribly uncomfortable. Then she rolled her shoulders and seemed to relax a little, yielding.

“What might you suggest then?” She held her hand up before he spoke. “Really. What do each of us get out of being shipmates to each other?”

“Excellent. Then y’re on board with it!”

She raised her hand higher. “I am willing to listen to your crazy ideas first.”

Close enough, he decided. “I need a ship.” He motioned to the wreckage of his earlier endeavour before leaning against the table. “And y’ need a crewmate if y’re goin’ t’ make it out here. I’ve been here a while. Y’re getting the better end of the deal here.”

“I have also been here a while,” she said. The way she enunciated the words was definitely to spite him, he decided, and so was the way she spoke in general. “I think I am doing quite all right for myself.” He blinked, then mentally kicked himself when she smirked. “What could you possibly share with me that I could not overhear in a crowded tavern?”

“Experience. Those guys - y’re just listenin’ t’ ‘em peacock ‘round the place, tell each other crazy tales that never happened at all. I’d show you, teach you, not just sway yer opinion of me with honeyed words.”

“Practical examples, then?”

“Exactly. I’d…” He struggled to think of an example, then made a small flourish with a hand. “I’d teach you to fish rather than tell you to eat fish!”

She stared at him for a long moment before looking away, expression indecipherable. “Fair enough. You make a good argument. Albeit, a one-sided argument.”

“Like I said, it’s a better deal fer you.” He stood and took a step, holding a gloved hand to her. She hesitated before they shook. “Then it’s settled, we’re one crew. Partners.” He stood proper, perhaps a little too much so, unable to help his excitement.

She made a small, unimpressed noise. She must have been tired from fighting the galleon. No other excuse would explain her moodiness, he decided.

“Well, partner, if we are one crew, then I suppose we should know each other’s names.” She brought her hand to her chest. “I am Blue. And you?”

“Z.”

She made a face, wrinkling her nose. He couldn’t help being annoyed with her annoyance.

“That is… not a name?” They looked at each other with a great deal of uncertainty.

“Well, it’s my name.”

“It is a letter.”

“And blue is a colour.”

“A true statement, but not the only one to be made of that one word as it is one of descriptiveness.”

Z stared at her, at a loss for words. He shook his head. “Jus’… just call me Z.”

Blue looked like she couldn’t help being amused with herself but nodded nonetheless. Perhaps they would come back to this name game some other time.

“Well, before my day was quite horribly and loudly interrupted, I had planned to take a look at this after lunch.” She held out a still rolled up voyage request for him to look at. Z needn’t open it to know what it was, and he knew that it would more or less keep them in this region if he did.

“Uh.” He made a face, unsure what he wanted to say before recollecting his thoughts a moment later. “We shouldn’t stay in this area unless we wanna fight.” Z motioned to the galleon just beyond the island’s calm waters. The movement had hurt and he flinched, hand coming to grasp the cut in his arm. He could feel the sleeve was soaked with blood; he wasn’t keen to fight again so soon. “We should head t’ The Wilds; that’s far from here.”

Having followed his gaze and then his train of thought, his new company only shrugged her shoulders. “Very well. We will head east first. You came from that direction, yes?” Not exactly, but he nodded anyway. “That way is clear. We will retrace those steps, stop as needed, and then turn northerly just before the Devil’s Roar.” He must have been making a face for she rose a brow and clarified herself. “We will stop as needed. I know of a little island nearby with recent wreckage that we can scavenge. We will also stop to clean up.” Blue paused, looking him up and down. “We will… leave once you buy yourself a new shirt and a few changes of clothes, I suppose.”

This shirt had seen better days. His purse had as well, but as far as most days went, this was a damned good one. Plunder Outpost was a good place as any to stock up. Clothes, ammunition, a bit of food would be nice. He grabbed a pinch of gold and forced it into his new shipmate’s hand, ignoring the noise she made. “Buy yerself somethin’ useful while we’re here. The next outpost is a ways out.” Z ignored her continued noises of complaints and made his up the stairs and vaulted off his sleek new ship to supply it.

Chapter 3: Songs of Change

Summary:

Blue and Z leave Plunder Outpost. Along the way to their initial destination, a concern comes up. Then another…

The sooner they got off the outpost, the sooner Z could relax. This morning’s scrap had not been the worst he’d been in before, not by a long shot, but it had dragged on. When his new shipmate finally appeared on the dock, he couldn’t help hurrying her along.

“Get everythin’ you need?” Blue gave him a noise of acknowledgement as she stepped onto the sloop’s deck and then disappeared downstairs. That was good enough for him. “Good, let’s get the hell outta here.” Z was quick up the last set of stairs and on the quarter-deck so he could take the ship out to sea.

When Blue reappeared a short while later, she stayed stood upon the main deck, glancing about the ship and their surroundings. She said nothing as she retrieved a broom and began scrubbing at the slight charring left from the earlier fire. There had been no meaningful damage, but it seemed that she found the burnt wood unsightly.

The wind hadn’t changed much from earlier, though it was more favourable for the direction they headed in so they made decent time, the sloop flying across the water. Z could never remember the name of the little island they were coming up on, so small it was barely even worth a name. It was probably the spot Blue had mentioned earlier. Much, much closer to them, however, were some planks and barrels floating in the water.

Stepping away from the wheel, Z leaned against the railing, gauging the distance to the wreckage. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his new shipmate staring at him and he froze. She had paused in her sweeping, expression incredulous. Her expression kept him still long enough that the barrels passed them by and he was left standing awkwardly.

“What?”

Blue’s hands went to her hips. “Were you about to jump off? Just like that?”

“Yeah?” It was somewhere between a statement and a question. Z made a motion to shrug his arms and stopped halfway, hissing as pain shot up and down the one. Once more he was gripping at the injury to soothe it. “How else am I s’pose t’ grab supplies on the go?”

He had given the task and statement little thought, and that was just the problem. Realisation slowly, faintly, spread across Blue’s face as the both of them came to a new understanding of what had transpired. To get more supplies, a crew member had to leave the ship to gather the items and then return with them. If the ship did not stop, then how were they to return? He could see that Blue was dying to ask.

“Would it not be better to stop and collect everything?” And yet, she refused to ask outright.

He grinned and shook his head. “Nah, that takes too much time. Best t’ jus’ grab what’s best and come back.” It was difficult to not burst out laughing at the unease on his new shipmate’s face. He must have seemed like a madman to her. “You do know ‘bout supply runnin’, right?”

Finally, Blue yielded and sighed. He couldn’t help a cackle as she said, “Fine. Enlighten me. What exactly do you mean?”

“I’m glad you asked.” He stepped down to the main deck with her. It wasn’t often that Z had the opportunity to chat with someone with so little knowledge of how things worked here. Truly, this was extraordinary and he was eager to take on his mentor role in earnest.

“As I’m sure y’re aware, there’s many ways’a gettin’ ‘round out here. There’s a few ships y’ll see, the lovely little ones like this or the sturdy galleon. Sometimes there’s the odd brigantine or even an outsider’s ship. Always get a kick out of those, we do; they don’t last long… Ah, and then there’s the rowboat, so tiny but oh so sneaky. Y’ can always swim, too — that’ll get you somewhere. Eventually.” Blue was giving him an unimpressed stare. He shrugged one shoulder and turned away from her. “Of course, if you ever change yer mind about swimmin’, y’ can jus’ go back to your ship.”

“Do you know how utterly batty you sound? You do, yes?” she shot. He did and he couldn’t help the grin. “Because you look like a child who thinks he has just thought of the greatest joke ever told, except I am not your mother and so I have no obligation to laugh.”

Z laughed. He had lived here so long that it was very easy to forget how strange it was to a newcomer. He paced about the ship as he spoke. “I’m serious! Y’ start swimmin’ somewhere and change yer mind? Come on back. Rowboat get dinged up in a storm or that ship y’ fancy left the island it was stopped at? Jus’ come on back. Ferryman tired of lookin’ at you? Jus’ come on back!”

Blue looked exhausted before she buried her face in a hand. She was quiet and shook her head, hand moving to pinch at the bridge of her nose. How she had never had any accidents to discover these things on her own was beyond him. Maybe he would’ve spoken more seriously and explained the concept if she hadn’t asked a question.

“The Ferryman?”

“Yes.”

Blue drew a deep breath. “Who is the Ferryman?”

Z wasn’t sure how to answer that one. Just about everyone knew of the Ferryman, but no one knew the Ferryman. The damned captain was a friendly sight to those that had been around the Sea of Thieves for any lengthy period of time, offering them another chance at life unlike any other.

“Well, he’s a sort of friend to all pirates here, I s’pose.” He paused; apparently all pirates except Blue. “He’s captain of the Ferry of the Damned, y’see. I don’t think he ever leaves the ship, not that I know, but everyone else that sets foot on deck does…”

He was still pacing about the sloop’s deck. Blue hadn’t moved at all yet, allowing him to get behind her, but now she crossed her arms, finally about to turn. Before she did, he reached for his belt, hands firmly lifting his blunderbuss to her chest. There was a moment where both of them were able to consider what was happening, alarm streaking across her face, amusement across his.

They had agreed on practical examples, right?

*

Consciousness came harshly, like waking early in the morning with a fever. The malaise was strong, but not enough to distract from how off everything was. Perhaps it wasn’t that everything looked and smelled and simply was wrong so much as it was green. This required further inspection.

Though this place was rather odd, the ship she found herself aboard seemed even more so for existing within it. The planks of the deck were full of gaps that allowed green light to seep through, the sails were terribly torn, and a cannon was missing from its carriage. This was a galleon that had seen much better days. Better places, too, it seemed; there was no visible wind, no scents carried by it, yet the ship cut its way through the still waters below.

A little calmer, a little more curious, Blue took a better look around. Over by the ship’s starboard cannons, she spotted a pair of pirates huddled together, speaking quietly, shimmering in green. If they had noticed her, they hadn’t cared to acknowledged her, engrossed in their conversation. They seemed unperturbed by their environment and once she recognised just how dead they appeared, Blue brought her hands up to inspect. She, too, seemed to be quite dead, plagued by the greenness. She didn’t feel dead, then quickly decided that it was ridiculous that being dead should have a feeling associated with it. There was the urge to panic, too, but that seemed silly; she gained nothing by doing so and preferred to not draw any undue attention to herself. If those two were not bothered, why should she be?

Decisively, she stepped forward, standing not too tall. Being dead was nothing to be proud of, now was it? She couldn’t relinquish her pride entirely, though, not yet at least.

Besides the pirates, there was a man… floating at the helm. Somehow it seemed that he belonged here. No words were uttered and she didn’t feel compelled to start a conversation; rather, she found herself overwhelmed and took some steps back towards the bow of the ship.

In the middle of the ship was a brazier. Though everything was strange here, it was an alarming sight and she couldn’t pinpoint if that was because it was floating, or because of the grate underneath it. Through this grate, the hands of many reached out, some with much gusto and others with faded spirit, and plenty more in between. Maybe it was the combination that made the brazier so disturbing. Blue didn’t get close enough to allow the floundering hands an opportunity to touch her.

Below the helm was the door to the captain’s cabin. On either side were statues of figures that held lanterns out; they didn’t seem malicious, but neither had she ever seen such figures before in her life. Whatever their meaning, it was lost to her. The aquatic equine figures mounted into the door above them, however, were a more comforting sight. She meandered about some and found herself upon the fore-deck. The railings at the beginning of bowsprit had a chain that kept her from going up it, though she was allowed enough freedom to peer over and see that the ship’s figurehead resembled the ones above the door. This allayed any lingering fears regarding her safety aboard this vessel.

A creaking noise pierced the quiet rumbling of the ship. Just in time, she turned to see the door of the captain’s cabin swing itself open with a thud. She stared at the swirling green mist before peering about the deck. No one else had reacted to this, not the pair of pirates nor the man at the helm. The latter did spare a glance in return before he ducked his head back down into a book. It seemed that he expected nothing out of her.

Once more, Blue turned her gaze to the door, hesitant. She passed the brazier and cannons, stopping just before the portal. She looked to it, to the ship’s captain, and then back to the portal.

May as well.

*

If asked, Blue would describe the shock of being alive again like being shot all over again. She gasped for breath, feeling and seeing — doing anything and everything again was a surprise. Had she not just been quite dead? This was all overwhelming to her and she was glad to have a bed nearby to sit on while she came to her senses. She was sat there for quite a while, bent with her head down against her knees while she considered the sensations of living when she remembered: he shot her.

As she moved out of the lower deck, she was able to determine that hours had passed. It didn’t feel like it had been very long. Somehow, that didn’t seem the strangest part of what had just occurred.

The person responsible for her trip had taken to leaning against the sole mast of the ship, the sail reefed quite a lot so the ship sailed slow and smooth. He stood as though she had kept him waiting. She supposed she had, in a way. As soon as they sighted each other, Z was unable to help his obnoxious laugh, and he was definitely laughing at her.

“Enjoy yer trip?”

“Would you like to explain?” Speaking was difficult, though it got better with each word.

Z shrugged as best as he could at her. “The Ferry of the Damned? It’s where we all go when we take a fight we shouldn’t’ve ‘til we overstay our welcome and get kicked out.” He paused. Blue looked furious.

“It’s the way things are here,” Z added. “Y’ notice that yer injuries ain’t as bad as they seem and heal faster than they would’ve on the other side of the Shroud, haven’t you? A good meal helps, too. And a drink is somehow better and worse all at once.”

His explanation was shit. Things shouldn’t have been different ‘just because,’ but that was precisely how it was. Blue didn’t like this and didn’t try to hide it, stepping over to the captain’s table. One hand went to her hip, the other around her middle as she was unsure of what to do with it. She stood close to the table, uncomfortable.

“And what is the real explanation of all of these things? For this Ferry of the Damned, the vigour we feel here, the dancing papers, the skeletons, and the massive sharks? That magic is alive and well in these lands?” Blue hadn’t been serious, yet the moment she spoke those final words and saw his face, she regretted it.

“Yeah.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“You got a better explanation, sweetheart?”

She scowled and started pacing, both arms around herself.

“This place is… diff’rent. Better, but diff’rent.” He wasn’t wrong about the different part, but she wanted to argue the other part. Anyone could argue for either side, she supposed.

“Fine, fine, it is different,” Blue admitted. “Does magic explain everything?”

“Works for me.” That wasn’t a proper answer. Blue looked like she wanted to kick him. That didn’t sour his mood as he went back to the helm. Then, “Hey, off the right side — think I saw a whale fin.”

Pausing in her pacing, Blue sighed, tilting her head back. She contemplated ignoring him, feeling new to this world all over again. Somehow it was worse this time. He had shown her something useful, she supposed, being able to die and come back again, and so it was faint trust that encouraged her to set foot on the main deck and glance about.

There was a lot of open water around them. With no islands nearby it was deep, too. She didn’t see a hint of what he might have seen so she stepped closer to the edge of the deck, peering over. Perhaps the animal had dove down; even megalodons frequently dove and resurfaced.

Perhaps, she realised as her shipmate had somehow managed to sneak down the stairs and behind her, there was never a whale or megalodon in the first place. Caught off guard and still groggy from her trip to the Ferry, it was incredibly easy for him to toss her overboard.

While she bobbed along the surface of the water, Blue considered the day’s events and how she had ended up here. Was anything she had learned worth it? Perhaps she would run fewer jobs for the Merchant Alliance; that job was the sole reason she ended up at Plunder Outpost. The day had been full of shenanigans and Blue wondered if the man on the Ferry — he must have been the Ferryman she realised now — would disapprove of one committing suicide to get away from annoying people.

A splash broke the calm sound of the water nearby. When a song came after, she doubted that it was a shark or overly energetic fish. Somehow, the song sounded as though it belonged to this world, and that is was sung just for her. She was compelled to move towards it and did so cautiously. She crested a wave and was finally offered a view of the song’s origin.

When she realised what she was looking at, Blue was surprised, though she would never admit it. If one could die and come back anew, if skeletons still walked as though they were living, was this really that strange? It was all starting to seem less and less silly.

With a defeated sigh, Blue swam over to the merfolk.

*

A trip to the Ferry could be quite some time. A mer’s swim, however, took none at all. When Z looked down from checking the wind, his shipmate was back on the deck of the ship, keeled over and coughing quite hard. He was laughing yet again.

“Are you quite done?”

Z couldn’t help laughing more despite pulling the sail up so the ship could drift the rest of the way to the large island they were at. Throwing her off the ship had been such a good idea!

“Okay, okay,” he began, bringing his hands up and leaning back against the canopy support of the sloop. He had spoken like he had a lot to say, then paused and looked as though he’d forgotten or changed his mind. “Okay, how could I not?” If looks could kill, Blue’s would have ended him multiple times over. “Y’re the one that wanted examples!”

“Teaching by example and being a knobhead are two very different things.”

She wasn’t annoyed, she was angry. What had transpired was well within the range of what could be expected of crewmates and what they had previously discussed. Still, anyone could tell that it had been too much for Blue.

“Okay,” she started, tone mocking. “I have had enough of your shit. You stay here ‘til I’ve had a bath.” He moved slightly, just so that he could stand more comfortably or go find something to do on the ship, and Blue jerked, glaring at him. He held his hands up defensively. “Just stay here. You can have yours after and then we’ll sup. Just stay here so I can have a few minutes to myself.”

There was so much exasperation in her voice, Z had no idea if he should laugh again or be terrified. Ultimately, he did as told and remained in the corner he was closest to on the quarter-deck. Blue had ducked below deck and when she returned she had a towel and change of clothes in her arms. She said nothing, didn’t spare him a glance as she hopped off the ship and waded through the shallow water and disappeared around the rocks to the other side of the island.

The skirmish at Plunder Outpost had left the sloop with some cosmetic damage. With nothing substantial to do, Z found himself scrubbing the remaining charring off the deck. It took no time for that task to become too painful to continue with, the injury on his upper arm burning terribly. With work out of the question, Z found himself dipping below deck. He had seen it before, but now he was allotted time to truly take in the sloop’s hold.

The water and grog barrels were exactly where he expected them to be. Nearby, there would normally be a brig pressed up against the wall that held up the stairs; instead, there was a cosy bed with a shelf above it. There was an arrangement of barrels and chests throughout the hold that he mostly expected to see; the most curious, however, was an open barrel that held eight swords in it. What anyone could need with more weapons than they could carry on their person, he didn’t want to know. Beyond that, another interesting thing was a chest overflowing with fabrics; they seemed nice enough that it might have had her clothing it in. Perhaps, or rather, it held raw fabrics that she used to make clothes out of as he did not recognise the things she wore as anything the shopkeepers tended to stock. He would have to ask at some point. For someone who travelled alone, there was an awful lot of stuff down here and not much room for another person’s belongings. Thankfully, Z didn’t carry much and was able to tuck what he had under the grog barrel.

Now he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He couldn’t work; he needed a good, long rest first, and his shipmate had been very specific about him staying on the ship. Hell, she may have even meant for him to stay in that corner or that specific deck; he wasn’t sure. He’d had his fun showing her how one could get back to their ship, but she hadn’t enjoyed it nearly as much. There was a lingering concern in his mind, curious of how miserable she was on a normal basis. If he was going to be stuck with this woman for a while, he wasn’t sure he wanted to push it so he stayed on the ship. At least, he planned to.

Down where the beach began to curve, a rowboat was almost hidden behind a rock, taunting him. It didn’t look like it had been moved in a long time. Z decided it would be a swell idea to collect it. He made sure he wasn’t being watched before he left the ship to do this. Rather than dock the rowboat to the ship’s stern, he left it between the ship and beach, right where the ladder was, forming something of a bridge. If Blue was as stuck up as he thought she might be, he’d prefer to keep her in good spirits for both of their sanity.

Idle hands made for a restless pirate, but what was he to do? All that Z could think to busy himself with was gathering a fresh change of clothes. Besides that, he had been told to stay where he was and so he placed himself back upon the quarter-deck, going so far as to lean against the canopy’s wall, close to the corner she had corralled him into. It was a comfortable enough spot; he could take the pressure off his legs and watch the sunset, its striking colours cast upon sea and sky alike. All in all, it had not been a bad day and he couldn’t complain about where he was now.

With a soft thump, the rowboat bumped against the sloop’s hull as Blue returned. He looked to her as she came up the ladder, clean and clad in a fresh nightgown and long-sleeved button-up shirt. The towels and previous change of clothes were held as though they had offended her and she looked much like he recalled when he had first run into her: far too proud of nothing. It was tempting, but he didn’t comment on any of this, nor did he bother trying to find an excuse to call her a pirate out loud to see what her response would be. Some other time. She disappeared below deck once more, returning briefly to leave a dry towel and a chunk of soap on the railing for him. Best not make her tell him to go bathe, he figured.

Collecting everything, he then vaulted over the railing and landed on the rowboat, allowing him to step on the sand without getting his boot wet. Z knew this island well, knew where the freshwater pond was; he also knew that there was a high peak that one could use to observe most of the region from. Scouting the area out first seemed a good idea to him and so he started uphill.

The climb shouldn’t have been difficult, but his leg ached. The sooner he got up there, the sooner he could bathe and get back to the ship and sleep the day’s pains off. Making his way to the mountaintop wasn’t as hard with that reasoning in mind. From the peak, Z could still see the galleon near Plunder Outpost. They had stopped at the next closest landmass. Whoever was left on the ship must have been desperate to tend to it at a skeleton fortress. They were far away, far more wounded than he and his new ship and shipmate, and so he was not concerned with them. No other ships were visible and so Z was satisfied with that horizon scan. As he made his way back down the mountain, he scolded himself for carrying everything up with it; had he left it by the pond, he could have simply jumped down.

The cool evening air meant that Z spent as much time on the rocks surrounding the water as he could rather than directly in the pool. The fight had left him quite dirty and with wounds to tend to, and though he was not one to faff about, he found himself taking his time. After coming out on top of such a hectic day, he deserved to relax, he reasoned. He also did not want to return to the ship too soon; he and his new shipmate could do with some meaningful time apart. Chilly as it was, the water was very soothing to run on aching joints and injuries.

He could not shake how strange she was from his mind. Blue’s lack of knowledge of this place was concerning. He did not think her dishonest though neither did he trust her — he had no reason to do either — and yet his gut told him to believe her when she said she had been there for some time. She had handled herself well enough in the skirmish and seemed so wary that he thought it reasonable that she simply avoided other crews. Any lone pirate should have done that and she seemed to have a mostly decent head on her shoulders. He’d had his fun, but now Z couldn’t help feeling that crewing up with a greenhorn like her was a bad idea. He would have to poke and prod and find out exactly how she had been surviving.

There were other things he would have to ask her, too, primarily whether or not she had materials aboard to suture wounds. Had he suffered the wound to his arm outside of the Shroud, he would have been in trouble. The damn thing was still oozing blood and hurt fiercely. How silly, considering he had practically done it to himself, and with his own cutlass! He would ask if she had anything better than grog, and he needed her to say yes; the additional wounds on his neck and head and his constantly complaining half-leg all begged to be soothed with a lively drink.

Done bathing, he dried and dressed. Or, at least he partially dressed; he decided against putting a new-to-him shirt on when it would just get bloodied. The old one was pressed against the cut to keep it from spilling blood everywhere as he made his way back to the ship, hoping Blue would have good answers to his questions.

Back on the sloop, Z quickly found his shipmate at the captain’s table with a book. She was writing and he decided this explained a few things. She didn’t speak like someone that belonged here — her word choices and patterns made her sound like an outsider. She was an outsider. He realised that, if she was honest, she truly did not belong here.

He had been stood at the entryway for a little while now, long enough that he wasn’t sure if Blue had noticed him or not. Loudly, he cleared his throat. She paused for a moment, ignored him for a few more seconds, and then she finally looked at him, unimpressed.

“What is it?”

“Do you have a needle? And…” He waved his gloved hand, making an ‘I don’t know’ gesture, followed by an ‘iunno’ noise. He wasn’t actually sure what one used to close a wound. “And somethin’ to drink?”

He was thankful when he saw her put the pen down and stand; he was less glad when she stepped towards him. Steeling himself, Z pulled the shirt away so she could inspect his arm. Instead, she grabbed his chin and it took all of his being to not knock her off her feet. Uneasy as it made him, he knew that she was inspecting his neck, even the back of his head. He forced himself to relax as she disappeared into the deeper part of the sloop, reasoning that it would be silly for her to turn on him at this point. Or maybe it wouldn’t be. He’d know soon enough.

Blue reappeared a moment later, two bottles of rum in one hand, a small box in the other. She pushed the book aside before placing the new items down on the table and motioned for him to be seated. He did so, dropping everything he’d brought back with him and kicking it aside except for the shirt he held close to his arm.

“Hold that,” she said, hand momentarily pressing against his so that he couldn’t expose the wound to her.

“… why?” He couldn’t fathom her mind.

“Your head is still bleeding.” That was a good reason, he decided.

Her fingers combed through his hair and he presumed it was to better find out where that gash started and ended. It tickled a little.

“This will sting,” he heard her say. Z blinked and made himself focus, watched her pop open a rum bottle before disappearing behind him with it. Yes, yes it would. In fact, it burned like hell.

“It helps.” It had better, wasting perfectly good rum like that. She stepped back in front of him, placing the bottle back on the table as she did. “Drink some if you like,” she added as she dug about the box.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he replied, eagerly helping himself.

Just as Blue stepped back behind him, he saw her lick at her lips out of the corner of his eye. He suspected that she must have drunk as well. He didn’t press the matter. Before he could sip again, her hand was in his view, presenting a sheathed dagger. It was not the usual sort that littered the Sea of Thieves that pirates generally used for, well, anything and everything; it was much nicer.

“What—”

“Bite down.” Silence hung between them for a moment. “Until you are certain, bite down.”

Slowly, he reached and took the weapon from her, and then another big swig of rum. He had so many questions. Then Z turned enough so that he could look at her; he wanted to ask where she had kept the knife, but the slight sway of her dress gave him a good idea. He couldn’t quite help the smirk that crossed his face, or the words that followed.

“If I do, will you show me where y’ had that?”

It was slight, but he saw her eyes widen. Blue stared at him a moment before she put her hands on his shoulders, pressed enough to make him sit properly. It was then that he finally noticed the curved needle in her hand and realised that he probably shouldn’t have said that.

“Sit still, keep pressure on your arm, and bite down.” She didn’t give him time to consider all of those words and perform the actions associated with them before the needle found purchase in the skin at the back of his head. He couldn’t help a small cry and he swore he heard her chuckle. Finally, he did as told, glad for the rum to be flowing through his limbs.

The first stick had been rough and mean. He probably deserved it. The second stick was probably deserved, too, but after that, the wound was gradually worked more kindly. It was not an overly gentle touch that she had, but still a womanly one, delicate and precise once she was done reprimanding him. Z appreciated that dearly. Or maybe it was the rum, which surely was appreciated by both of them.

Having gone from top to bottom, it felt like Blue had been working at the lower end of the wound for a while now. He wanted to ask, but before he could, a towel was pressed against the back of his head. Then it was dabbed at.

“You should prob’ly wash your hair again before you sleep tonight. Blood and rum… tch.” He grunted at her words, removing the dagger from his teeth. There was a long pause between dabs, then: “Do you not dye your hair?”

“No.” The question was so strange to him that Z was pulled to a more alert state. Then he mentally chided himself for having become so relaxed in the first place. The thing she was doing with the towel was soothing, as was the rum, the bottle empty. Curse himself. “Why?”

“No dye on the towel… Most of the pirates that wear outfits like you do.” She stepped around to his side, eyeing him up and down, stopping at his face. Then she shrugged as though to herself. “Ah, your eyebrows are black, too.”

He just stared at her. Even as his neck was examined and then passed over for his arm, the shirt pulled away from the wound, he stared. Blue turned to the table, murmuring as she picked about.

“What?” He had to know.

“Wh— silk. It is wh—”

“No. No-no-no-no— my eyebrows. They’re black too?”

It was her turn to stare at him. “Yes. The hair atop your ‘ead and above your eyes is all black. I, I’ve…” She took a breath. “I ‘ave met many pirates wearing outfits like yours, all black. Some a little fancier than others, but they are all black. Black hair, too. They do not dye their brows, though. They all look very silly with hair and beards of black, brows of gold or red or what ‘ave you.”

Z stared at her. What she said made sense, he even realised he had somehow noticed this himself, though he’d never thought about it. If she had ‘met’ pirates dressed like him, she had met those who either sought to cause trouble or many, many who had far softer hearts than they ought to for the outfits they wore. The timing of the conversation was so strange, though, and he realised his thoughts were getting away from him.

“Huh.”

Satisfied that he was satisfied, Blue motioned at his arm. “Now, this.” She was pretty fuddled, too, he realised. She was talking much more, faster, and not so proper. It seemed like she was dropping every other letter and that was annoying, a new annoying to the way she spoke. Her voice was nicer on the ears when she didn’t over-pronounce every word, though.

“I don’t think I can just sew this up,” she said, inspecting the wound. With her hands on his arm, he couldn’t help moving it, unsure what to do with the limb. He made a face as Blue continued. “Your sword is sharp and this is a deep cut.” She pointed into the parted muscle. “First, I need to pull this together. Then I can close it.”

Twisting about, Z sat so that he could rest his arm along the backrest of the chair. Neither of them needed to say it: this would hurt horribly. He wondered if it would have been better to let the Ferry handle the wound, but that was always a gamble; who knew what eyesore of a scar he would come out with. There was always the risk that it wouldn’t be a cosmetic scar he came out with: sometimes the Ferry would simply take an injured limb away. No, this was the best option, he concluded, but he was still upset about what was to come.

Perhaps this was something to mention to Blue. Then again, she had actively noticed that pirates dyed their hair, even their facial hair, but not their eyebrows. He had thought so, but now he was certain: she was smart. If she wanted to know, she would ask. He hoped. A popping noise pulled him from his thoughts. He also hoped that she wasn’t going to use that entire bottle of rum on his arm. Turning his head away, he bit down on the sheathed knife, took a deep breath, and then nodded. There was no delicate way to go about cleaning a wound of this degree, only speed, but he was glad Blue worked as quickly as she could.

When she was done, she began bringing the parted flesh together. That didn’t feel good. In fact, it was one of the more awful things that Z had ever experienced, very painful, horribly uncomfortable, and it felt slow. Blue seemed to be working as quickly as she could. Midway through, she lifted his arm and slowly lowered it down to a resting position. It was uncomfortable, her making him move his arm to make sure he could move it, and he would thank her for it later, but it was awful right now.

Tying the silk off in the middle of his arm was a chore. She was definitely drunk, he realised. It hadn’t been a problem for her with the other wound, but she struggled with this one, reaching past him to grab another needle. He wasn’t sure how that helped her, but it helped her accomplish her goal with little added discomfort.

“Do y’ need a break?” she asked.

He gave it some thought, reaching for the rum. He was now aware of just how much he had started sweating from the ordeal; he’d blame it on the rum.

“No,” he said, struggling to swallow. “Jus’ get it done.” He moved to place the bottle back and Blue intercepted it. Eyeing him up and down, she seemed unconvinced but didn’t press him. Instead, she drank as well, placed the bottle back on the desk, and kept working.

With the deeper muscle taken care of, Blue began pulling everything along the skin together, the needle painfully driving through his skin. She had taken it upon herself to fix him up, and she was doing a good job, so he supposed he shouldn’t complain even as new pain coursed through his arm. He couldn’t help that he felt like throwing up. Her motions slowed at some point, too, and that was upsetting. Blue seemed aware of both of those facts.

“Almost done.”

Necessary as it was, Z was annoyed, annoyed that he had relaxed so much as he had earlier, annoyed that he now outwardly showed how uncomfortable he was — the situation was awful. The sooner it was done, the sooner he could eat. Rum or not, this was a shitty end to a day that had started so wonderfully.

Sensing that her words were true, he lifted his head to examine Blue’s work. The skin had come together cleanly and she was at the end of the wound, about to begin tying the silk off once more. As terrible an experience this had been, her work was good and it was far better than to have risked it with the Ferry. A clean scar would form where this wound sat. Now he could come up with a funner story for it.

Groping for the rum, he was dismayed to find it nearly gone. He looked at his shipmate. “Do y’ want any of this?” She paused in her work so that she could take the bottle, sipped at it, and returned it to him. It also occurred to him that he could ask if she had any more.

“Stay ‘ere.” She cleared her throat as she stood, work complete. “Finish that and stay here.” Blue didn’t allow him to argue and he didn’t care to, happy to savour what remained. He did wonder where she was going, having taken the dagger off the table before disappearing off the ship.

Z did not have to wonder long. When she returned, she held the leaf of a plant, one he had seen many times before but could not put a name to. Even as she squeezed a thick, clear substance from it he wasn’t sure what it was. Somehow he was surprised when she slathered it on his arm, flinching. It didn’t hurt, though; rather, it was soothing, if a little cold. Aloe, he realised.

“Thank you,” he murmured, calm as she applied some to his neck and the back of his head as well. The leaf was left on the table as she ducked down to where the stove was. She lingered there a little while and a pleasant smell came forth. When she reappeared, she held some cloth strips and offered him a steaming hot tankard.

“Sip at this and chew the grass so you are not ill in the morn.”

Somehow, he felt like he was being scolded. Whatever the case was, Z accepted the mug and gave it a sniff; it smelled nice. The pleasant buzzing from the rum was wearing off and he did feel awful; he figured there wasn’t any more. Or maybe she was just scolding him. He decided to drink what was given to him instead of asking for more rum.

From the texture and colouring, it must have been a bit of old sail that Blue put around his head, covering that wound. She had startled him by doing that, as much as he could be in his state.

“… I do not think you are in any state to make that walk to wash your hair again.” He made a face at her, then some half-serious mocking noises. He had no problem with giving her his arm to wrap up, though. The tea was tasty and improving his condition already; he silently refused to chew the grass, however. It went faster than the rum had and he was almost as sad to see it disappear.

“I think I’m quite fine, thank y’ very much.” Z felt quite cavalier after going through that ordeal, and he only slurred his words a little!

“Uh huh, okay.”

Blue was unconvinced. Standing next to him, she bent her knees so that could bring his arm over her shoulder. To his surprise, he did need her help to stand. He’d need that help if he was going to find somewhere on the deck to sleep tonight. More surprising, though, was that she guided him downstairs. Where was he going?

The more steps they took, the more he looked around and understood that yes, Blue intended to drop him into bed like a drunkard. If she insisted, he wouldn’t argue.

“Make yourself comfortable.”

“Are you fine’lly goin’ t’ show me where you keep that little knife of yers?” Z’s mind always wandered, but now there was hardly any barrier to what he spoke aloud. It was nearly impossible for him to not laugh when Blue’s neutral expression shifted to one of grand annoyance. He couldn’t though, not yet; that would hurt and ruin the game too soon.

“Just… just go to sleep, would you?”

“Are y’ sure? I wouldn’t want t’ take yer bed from you.” It wasn’t an entirely untrue statement. This was her sloop, after all.

“It is fine. I can sleep up top on the canopy—”

“Now why would y’ go and do that?” Z was able to prop himself up on one side, press his back against the wall, gesturing to invite her beside him. “I’m sure I can make enough room for you.”

“Go to sleep,” she hissed. Blue turned and he couldn’t see if his laugh had annoyed her further. Before he could say more, she grabbed a spare blanket and was back up the stairs. He might have crossed a line there, but how could he not?

Feeling quite tired now, Z let himself fall against the bed properly, chuckling as he calmed himself. Laughing had indeed hurt, hurt his head, his arm, even his stomach, but it had been worth it. He would probably have to apologise to her in the morning for drinking so much, for the stitches, probably for what he said, too. He did wish he’d had the foresight to bring his shirt down with him; it was just cool enough to need a layer to sleep under. The bed was made, though, and the light blanket would suffice. As he settled, he was vaguely aware that the mattress was quite firm and shapely, like it hadn’t been used much. On any other night, he would have found this very curious and spent time considering it, considered other things, too, but lingering effects of the rum and fatigue quickly overpowered him and he was taken by the warmth of sleep.

Chapter 4: Just Another Day

Summary:

Blue and Z begin travelling in earnest. A problem comes up, and then another…

It must have been morning. The light that came down into the sloop’s hold did so at an angle; it wasn’t too late. He did not feel ill and was not too sore for what he recalled from the previous day, so Z made himself sit up, groaning as he stretched carefully. It was not a bad morning.

Now that he was more awake, he could start recalling things more clearly. First, he was disappointed in himself for falling asleep as easily as he had. Then again, in a way, this was also his sloop, if only temporarily. Still, to drink and fall asleep as he had showed such poor discipline… Well, at least he could give up the notion of Blue turning on him while he slept. She had also patched him up without being asked, too…

Speaking of the lady, he could hear her somewhere above him. He swore he heard her humming so he hoped that she was in a good mood. The splashing, though — he wasn’t sure what that was about.

Pulling himself so that he could slide off the bed, Z paused, grimacing. Though it had been a boon, yesterday had been a hard day, and sleeping with his prosthetic on had done him no favours. A dull ache constantly throbbed up his leg. He found himself wishing that he had asked Blue to look at it last night; no way was he going to find the chance to do so now. He tested his leg and forced himself to stand.

Going up the first set of stairs, Z spotted the pile of clothing he’d left near the map table. He fished through it, found the shirt he had planned to wear last night, and finally put it on with minor difficulty. It was much better than it had been, but his arm still complained; it would need a few days to heal fully. His head felt okay, if messy with its bandaging.

Next to the starboard cannon stood Blue, fishing pole beside her. In one hand was a banana and in the other, a common voting dagger. The fruit was unceremoniously cut up and tossed into the water, peel and all, and then she cast her line out. He wasn’t sure what to make of it and made his way to the other side of the cannon.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

She was reeling a fish in a moment later and Z wasn’t sure if he should press for a conversation. He wanted to, he wanted an excuse to ask what exactly she was doing, but he wasn’t sure if now was the time. It probably wouldn’t have been a problem if he had, for she was bringing the fish out of the sea moments later, a little yellow splashtail. He was surprised to see her take it off the hook, to touch it at all, but just last night she did have her fingers in his arm.

“Hold this,” she said without looking at him, fish held out to him.

Awkwardly, he took it by the mouth, its flailing growing weaker by the second. “Uh…” He glanced between her and the fish a few times, unsure of what he was to do. Another fish was at the end of her line and he was, again, unsure if he should speak while she fought it.

This one took longer to bring in. It seemed like a proper fight between Blue and this fish. Though a struggle, she won and now reeled the line in to show a much larger fish. It futilely thrashed about in the air.

Finally, Blue turned to face him. She said nothing, however, and only plucked the now lifeless fish from him and headed down the stairs. Z was at a loss for words. For as prim and proper as she seemed, he never would have expected to see her fishing. The sound of sizzling on the stove reconfirmed what he had witnessed. Unsure of what to do with himself, he went up to the quarter-deck and sat on the canvas. The blanket that Blue had stolen away with was nearby so he didn’t doubt that she slept up here.

When she reappeared, he was very surprised that she had two plates in her hands and that she came up to join him. Each plate had a fish and mug of grog on it; a coconut accompanied the bigger fish, as well as a dagger, while the smaller one had a small pomegranate with it. He was even more surprised when he was given the plate with the larger fish.

Z stared at the plate in his hands for a moment before he looked back at his shipmate. She had scooted away a little, a respectable distance for two people who weren’t friends. “Shouldn’t you be eatin’ this?” he asked only after he tore into his meal, half of the fish disappearing in no time.

Blue gave him a thoughtful hum. “I am not the one that got the shit beat out of him yesterday, got drunk, and failed to eat before going to bed.”

He narrowed his eyes at her but didn’t stop chewing to comment; they both knew she was right. He would’ve been content with a piece of fruit or few, but this was leagues better. After another bite, something compelled him to look over again. Blue was picking at her fish, being dainty, eating the crispy bits first. He tried to speak and almost choked. She rose a brow while he swallowed.

“Somethin’ the matter?”

“I forgot a knife.” She sounded annoyed.

“Here,” he started, grabbing the dagger off his plate. He didn’t need it; she was the fancy one. When he looked back to hand it to her, he paused. The two of them exchanged curious looks. Blue, most certainly, was wondering why he looked so dumbfounded. Z, on the other hand, was wondering where the pretty dagger he had been chewing on last night came from. She hadn’t quite pulled it from its sheath and he was disappointed when she put the blade fully back away and set it down.

She reached over and took the unremarkable knife from him, stating, “Thank you.” The robe across her shoulders was slanted now when it had been worn properly just a moment ago.

“Where’d y get that from?” Z couldn’t help asking.

Midway through cutting her pomegranate, Blue paused. She looked down at the plain knife, to the one that hadn’t been there before, to her plate, and then finally back to him. She shrugged, clearly feigning ignorance.

Z was torn. He had been so busy yesterday, and between the trip to the Ferry and his injuries, the fish he had been given was nearly impossible to pull himself from, an exhaustion he didn’t know he had fading away with each bite. Blue’s dagger was a matter of great curiosity, though.

“No, no, not—” He mimicked her shrug. Then he gestured to the weapon in question. “Where did that come from?”

“I always have it.”

Having eaten so much so fast and getting so worked up, Z almost made himself throw up. He put the fish down, exchanging it for small sips of grog. “Where? I had a perfect view of y’ there—” he gestured to where she had stood while fishing “—and when y’ came up here. You did not have that thing on yer hip!”

Blue was busy cutting her fish up; she definitely preferred the crispy outside. As he ranted, she kept her head tilted so she didn’t have to look at him, unable to help a small smile of amusement. She seemed very pleased with this.

“And yer sirt— skir— shit— YER SHIRT is ‘bout fallin’ off!”

Now she had to look at him, a brow raised. She was struggling to not laugh at his vocal fumbling; a small chuckle could not be helped.

“I am not wearing a shirt, it is a robe.” He almost screamed. She almost guffawed. “And I am still wearing my robe just as well.”

“But-but-BUT— y’re not.” Z leaned towards her, eyes narrow. He pointed at her and reiterated, “Y’re not. You had yer ponytail on yer other shoulder and yer robe wrapped tight around yer middle when y’ came up here. Now yer hair’s on the other side and yer robe’s all loose like y’ jus’ can’t wait t’ take it off.”

Blue’s brow was raised so high it threatened to fly away. “Are you trying to insinuate something?” She tried to make her tone accusatory but couldn’t quite manage it. It seemed that his meltdown was greatly amusing to her.

“That you have knives hidden under yer clothes!”

Failing to keep her cool entirely, Blue chuckled at him.

“You do!”

She laughed a little more, flinching and forcing herself to calm so that she wasn’t laughing so much with a full mouth.

Something else crossed Z’s mind. Before his trip to the Ferry yesterday, he had been shot. The sound and following sensation were unmistakable, but there had been something else. His eyes widened.

“You stabbed me!”

“It is quite the surprise, is it not?”

Z made an exasperated noise, narrowing his eyes at her. His suspicions were correct: she had killed him back at the outpost. This revelation was hilarious to him, ironic, and it gave him an idea. Putting his plate and drink aside, he slid off the canvas and hurried downstairs to where he had stashed his things. He already felt better after eating, quite grateful for the fish; of course, if Blue hadn’t been at the outpost in the first place, he wouldn’t need it.

Z made his way back up to the top of the sloop’s deck, his lantern held high for easy viewing. Its pink hue annoyed him more than it previously had. He came close enough to her that it was initially concern that crossed her face, though it then gave way to curiosity as he held the light out to her.

“This is from you,” he stated, offering the lantern for her to take.

“This is from me?” she repeated. She didn’t take it, but she leaned forward to inspect it closely.

“Uh huh. Did y’ notice on the Ferry that there was a big ol’ floatin’ torch?” He smirked as he watched the expression on her face change ever so slightly while she thought. “If y’ dip yer lantern into it when y’ visit, ye’ll get a coloured Flame to show how you died.”

“Hmm.” Blue seemed to get the idea but she didn’t get ahead of herself. She ate, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“There are six colours. Red for those who die t’ burnin’ or volcano rain. Blue for shark-bite. Purple for snake-bite. Green for skeletons. White for lightning. And then there’s pink for them that die t’ other pirates.”

Blue finished the last of her fish as he spoke. “Well, that would make sense then, would it not?”

“Aye, it does, doesn’t it?” He shook his head, chuckling. He made his way over to the helm, or specifically the mounted lantern beside it. It wasn’t lit but that didn’t stop him from holding his lamp up to it, causing its light to burst into existence, now sharing the same hue. He doused it before returning to his shipmate.

“Is there any point to that?”

He shrugged as he sat back down so he could finish eating. “Not really. It looks nice. Sometimes party boats are mistaken for skelly ships; that’s funny.”

“Party boats?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. It was pretty silly, even for this place. “One year, Duke, the guy in the taverns here ‘nd there, had the lot of us grabbin’ Flames and lightin’ our ships up for the Bilge Rats in honour of the Ferryman. He called those coloured ships ‘party boats’.” Blue stared at him for a moment before she very deliberately looked down at her plate, unsure of what to make of his words.

“So, no, there’s no point t’ that. It doesn’t do anythin’, it jus’…” Voice trailing, Z stared at his lantern for a long moment before he doused it, too, and set it on the planks below. “The Flames jus’ show how you died last time.” What a strange thing to say.

The two sat there and ate. When Blue had plunged her knife into his belly, she truly had not expected to ever see him again, he realised. How very strange. Z found that the subject had put him in something of a mood.

“These lights do nothing but denote the cause of one’s death and look nice?” Blue’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. Whatever her thought process, he wasn’t sure, though her tone did suggest there might be something more to it. He didn’t push the matter.

“That’s it. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less.”

“Hmm.” Blue gave a thoughtful hum before taking in their surroundings. By now, it was mid-morning. His shipmate stood and handed him what remained of her pomegranate — he happily accepted it, eating purely for the pleasure of it now — before she made her way below deck to put her plate and whatnot away.

It was a while before Z was finished eating and decided he should move. He appreciated starting the day with a big meal, but it was wasting away if they sat at this island. The rinds of the pomegranate were chucked into the water — much to the splashtails’ appreciation — and he made his way to the stairs. He didn’t have to wonder where Blue had gone for long, finding her sat at the table underneath the helm with the book from last night. Leaning against the frame of the entryway, he waited for her to acknowledge him.

“So where are you heading?”

That was very on the nose… “When did I say I was headin’ somewhere?”

“You did not. You stated that you needed a ship. This place is large enough that anyone going anywhere needs a ship.” Blue finally looked up from her book and at him. She shrugged. “Well, that is how I feel. You did say that swimming would get you somewhere. Eventually.”

He stared back at her, annoyed, contemplating his options. She was clever.

“Galleon’s Grave.”

“All the way north?”

“That’d be the one.”

She sat up more straight, shifting as though she were considering saying more. Instead, his shipmate held an expression of mild annoyance that he took silent delight in. Then the book was pushed away and she withdrew another from the shelf, thumbing through it. This one had drawings in it. Maps? He couldn’t tell its contents for sure, only that there was much less writing in this one.

“Well, you had better get the sail down, then.”

Z blinked at her words, surprised she was so forward. It took another look from her before he recoiled, sheepishly turning and making his way to the helm to get the ship moving.

*

Travelling east had been decided partially due to the wind conditions at the time and partially because that took them further from the galleon of yesterday. After stopping for the night, there had been no more east to go without going off-course; now they had to head north.

“We have not travelled very far,” Blue commented as she stepped out onto the deck, curious of why they were slowing down.

“No, we haven’t.” The sail halfway reefed, Z finished securing the ropes in their new position. She looked ridiculous in her day clothes to him.

“I dunno about you,” he continued, situating himself at the wheel, “but my pockets are pretty full’a gold. Too full.”

Without turning to face him, Blue held a hand up. “Very well.” She didn’t sound like she disagreed with stopping at Ancient Spire Outpost just ahead; they hadn’t spent very long at the previous one. But… “You do see that ship there, yes?”

“Aye. It’s why we’re comin’ in slow.”

There was another sloop at the docks, nestled in real good. It was situated as though its owner had been there a while.

“Do you have a plan?” she inquired.

“I always have a plan.”

When he didn’t continue, Blue turned to look at him, a brow raised. “And your plan is…?”

Z leaned casually against the wheel, rolling his shoulders. He was glad his arm barely complained. “I’m more in’erested in yer plan, actually.” That seemed to catch her off guard.

“Well, I normally avoid other ships and their crews.”

“That’s smart,” he said, unable to help interjecting right away.

Blue gave him a look of slight annoyance. She took a moment, considering what he wanted of her. “If I must cross paths with them, I will wait and see what they do first, minding that I do not put myself at a disadvantage should it come to violence. I am patient. If I cannot keep my distance, diplomacy works well for me. And the few times I have not been able to avoid others or pacify them, I make sure I win the fight.”

“Can’t argue with that…” Though he would never admit it, Z was upset that he had been stabbed like that. He was incredibly lucky that underestimating her had not cost him more than a trip to the Ferry; it sounded like it had cost others much more. Still, her words suggested she behaved more reactionary than he liked, even if he did appreciate the caution.

“That’s fine fer you, but I don’t like waitin’. We can try talkin’, but these guys were here first and might want t’ fight jus’ for that reason alone.” She tilted her head at him before nodding. “And we should get our story straight—”

“I came here to put my family’s meagre fortune to shame and you are my hired guard.” Z recoiled. His shipmate’s tone was very straightforward, as was this story. “Anything more is no one’s business, is it?” When he couldn’t come up with a rebuttal, she nodded and made her way below deck.

“I guess not. Pretty borin’, though…” He heard her chuckle down low and rolled his eyes.

Stepping away from the helm, Z stood on the sloop’s canvas so as to re-examine the outpost. They were closer now and yet he could still see no one out of the ordinary, not even up the hill by the tavern. He made sure that the ship’s path was true before passing Blue on the mid-deck and heading further down to grab his kit. She had been stood next to the armoury box fiddling with her shirt and he wondered just what she had hidden today.

Weapons were his first concern. Sword and blunderbuss on either hip, Z turned his attention to the food barrels. A quick bite always made a bullet wound sting less and he was pleased to find a few pineapples stored away; he grabbed one and a mango that wasn’t too soft and pocketed them.

Looking to make his way to the main-deck, he ran into Blue, who was still stood by the armoury. She had adorned herself with a large round hat and light coat now; they were the additional pieces her outfit needed to make her stand out. At least, he decided, it also made her look as though she could afford to pay him for his work.

“Are you steppin’ off-ship unarmed?” There were no weapons on her belt, nor a gun slung on her back like when he had met her. Considering their earlier conversation and the look she gave him… “Stupid question.” She made a noise of confirmation and he continued up the stairs back to the helm so he could take the ship to the dock.

In the entire time it took for their sloop to politely come to a stop at the end of the dock, they spotted no one to greet them besides the shipwright. Whoever else was visiting the outpost had either not spotted them, was busy elsewhere, or didn’t care about them; Z wasn’t sure what he preferred. Blue seemed unconcerned.

“Check the tavern,” he told her as they stepped onto the boardwalk, his voice low. “Figure out where these guys are and what they’re about ‘fore you do anythin’ else.” She nodded before heading up the spire.

Z carried himself as neutrally as he could while he stepped around to the other sloop. If he went undetected, that was a bonus, but neither did he want to appear openly up to no good. He would have much preferred for this crew to have met him on the open water, cannons blasting — at least then there would be no questions about anyone’s intentions.

The other ship was positioned so well that he could reach out and touch it. He could have easily slipped onto the ship without being noticed. Or that would have been the case had its sole crew member on board been awake. He could discern nothing about the pirate who was slumped over the map table except that they had drunk quite a lot if the empty bottles at their feet were anything to judge by. Even the bookcase over by the captain’s table was full of bottles, some more or less full.

Carefully, Z stepped aboard, just behind the map table. He beelined it for the hold, inspecting the sloop’s supplies and looking to see if any treasures were hidden. The ship was as standard as they came, with hardly any personal effects from her crew to be found. It was woefully understocked, too; there were very few spare planks, hardly enough for a rainstorm. In one of the food barrels there was a single banana and a few worms. Had this ship come out to meet them, it would not have even been a fight.

The pirate on board the ship weighed on his mind. He could risk restraining them, or he could simply kill them and hope their visit to the Ferry would be a long one. Or he could do nothing at all. Z took the long route back to the dock via this sloop’s raised canvas back; the sole occupant didn’t rouse despite his footfalls. Now his attention went to the tavern high up as Blue had not come back down yet.

Ancient Spire’s tavern had a couple of routes to it; the ladders that rested against the rocky cliff face were the quickest way. They were also very exposed. The way around the back was very long. Instead, Z decided to take a path in between, going to the side of the island’s peak and climbing when he saw an easy path but avoiding any that were too predictable.

As he had climbed, he could hear bits and pieces of a conversation. One voice he recognised immediately as Blue’s; the other was new. Near the tavern, he was careful on his approach, making sure he wasn’t spotted. He pressed himself against the wall beside the door.

Inside, he could hear Blue speaking with someone. He couldn’t clearly hear what they discussed, but he heard enough to figure that her company was another pirate who was very heavily suggesting that she hire him — and likely his crewmate — instead. The tone the man had made him doubt that it was a genuine offer, but that didn’t stop Z’s mind from deciding that he alone was worth double what the two of them were.

Z pulled himself away from the tavern’s door, ducking under the window. He paced along the side of the building, unsure of how to proceed. This other pirate could be an issue. Blue had spoken as though she could handle a situation like this, but now that the time came for her to do so, he was worried. There was movement in his peripheral vision, out in the distance, that made him pause and look to the cluster of giant rocks towards the west. Using that landmark as a shield, the galleon from yesterday had travelled a huge distance unnoticed and was now nearly upon Ancient Spire.

Hurrying back to the front of the building, he peered through the window. He’d been right: Blue was sat at a table with another pirate he’d never seen before. She noticed him immediately, smoothly looking past the other without raising suspicion. He was surprised that she gave up any niceties when he waved at her, choosing to stand and walk past her company despite the noise he made.

“Our friends from yesterday are on their way. Fast.”

“Ah.” Blue followed the direction of his gesturing to spy the ship for herself. She was calmer than he was. “This is unexpected.”

“Yeah, it is,” Z retorted. The battle at Plunder Outpost had been chaos that he and she both wove into their individual favours. His arm still needed to heal and his leg wouldn’t be reliable, not that she knew that. Between his state and the two of them not knowing how the other fought, he didn’t like their chances. A third crew being here just frustrated him more, the only benefit this time was that he was aware of it. It was unlikely that a second round with this galleon would go as well.

“They will recognise the both of us…” Blue’s words affirmed that they would have to fight.

“Got a problem out ‘ere, lass?” the other voice drawled.

“Four of them, if I recall,” Blue stated as she made her way to the wooden bridge that linked the lower spire to the one they stood on.

He could recognise that she was getting a feel for their surroundings, plotting what they could do; he did as well. There was little time, though. To Z’s dismay, the other pirate joined her on that side. Without a longer-ranged weapon, he couldn’t take out either of that sloop’s crew members as he would have preferred. Then again, Blue had insisted that she was a sweet talker; maybe he could expect a couple of extra hands in this fight. He doubted it, but it was a nice thought. He started his way down to the dock.

With its turn around the northern side of the island complete, most of the galleon’s sails were raised. The stern end sail was only partially reefed, helping the fussocky ship keep its low momentum. Her whole crew was visible on the deck now, scurrying about as they prepared to stop. Perhaps they were surprised by two sloops already sat still, the sail being pulled even more despite the distance to the dock. Whatever the case, it was unmistakably the same ship and crew.

Back on the ground, Z was considering his options. If the galleon really wanted to stop here, they would drop the anchor on their own. Jumping in the water to surprise them could still be a good idea, or should he prioritise moving his own sloop to fight? He couldn’t decide what he wanted to do as the inevitable fight drew closer. Deep down, he was glad when he didn’t have to make the choice on his own.

A shot rang out and the galleon burst into flames. Z froze, stunned, and looked back up at the top of the island. She hadn’t left with one, so the Eye of Reach that Blue now held must have come from her acquaintance. Now he found himself wondering if he had somehow missed the big ship’s cargo in the crow’s nest during his initial fight with them or if they had gone back for the barrels later yesterday. Whatever the case, it didn’t matter.

Like a shark to a wounded fish, Z closed the distance between him and the crippled ship until he stopped at the edge of the dock. Before he leaped into the water, he felt compelled to look back up at his shipmate, turning just in time to see her drop to the ground below the bridge. He winced at the noise and appreciated that she didn’t move after. This fight might not be over once the galleon’s crew was dead.

With that, Z unsheathed his cutlass and lifted it above his head, launching himself towards the critically wounded ship.

Chapter 5: A Broader View

Summary:

Blue learns more about the Ferry of the Damned. She and Z learn a bit more about each other.

Darkness gave way to a green-tinged light and Blue was unsurprised to find herself aboard the Ferry of the Damned once more. It was cold, foreboding, as though all of it could collapse away into nothing without warning.

Collecting herself, Blue got to her feet and took in the view of the Ferry’s deck. The pirates that she had spotted on her initial visit were no longer there; instead, a trio was stood near the door of the captain’s quarters. If they noticed her, they paid her no mind. Above them, the captain floated at the helm, busy with a book he wrote in.

What had brought her to this point was slowly coming back. She recalled setting out from Plunder Outpost and skirting along the southern edge of the Ancient Isles, stopping at Devil’s Ridge to rest with her obnoxious new shipmate. They then set out for Ancient Spire Outpost before they were to cross the vast open water to The Wilds; a sloop was already at the outpost and then the galleon came hurtling in with a crosswind.

Standing near the Well of Fates, Blue considered the pirates on deck with her. They looked familiar enough and after some more thought, she realised that yes, she did recognise them: the galleon crew. At least one of them, the only woman of the group, should have remembered her, but the pirates didn’t even seem to notice her presence. Blue was thankful for the respite, even if the groping hands near the floating brazier still disturbed her. She extended an arm to dip her lantern into it and did a double-take. Only once had she been told what Flames there were, but that didn’t seem right. The sound of footsteps approaching her didn’t allow her any time to consider the colour her lantern held.

“Had a rough go at it, ‘ave you?” His voice was far nicer than he looked.

This one couldn’t have recognised her if he was being so friendly. She couldn’t help outwardly showing some amusement with a grin. “Something like that.” Now she gave the other a small bow and polite smile in proper greeting. Caution compelled her to be ready to reach for a weapon, yet she also felt as though something was keeping her from doing so. The others also brandished no weapons, holstered or not. Blue thought this strange. Perhaps there was no reason to be concerned with fighting, anyhow; all of them were already dead.

“Friends of yours?” she inquired, gesturing to the pair that hadn’t come to greet her.

“Aye. My twin sister and our half-brother. We’re waitin’ for our uncle, but he ‘asn’t shown yet.”

Skirmishing with this crew could — and likely should — have gone quite differently. A galleon manned by a family had the potential to be much more terrifying than that of some ramshackle crew that got together by chance. Blue wondered if their surprise advantage had been that effective or if this crew was simply lacking.

“A shame.” She was curious how long she and they had all been here. She could discern no way to tell how long time had passed in the Sea of the Damned; somehow, taking her watch out seemed a poor choice. She didn’t know a way to measure the time here and she couldn’t help wondering if they did. There seemed no good way of asking and she refused to outright do so. “Did all of you die together?”

“We did. Took a fight we should have won, then we were ambushed on our way to salvage supplies. We couldn’t take another fight; didn’t want to, neither. Wish we’d ‘ave ‘ad someone just come tell us t’ leave. ‘Fraid our beauty of a gally’s scuttled now.”

No luck. At least she knew now what had happened. “So it would seem,” Blue agreed. “The four of you have had a bad time then?”

“Aye. A worse time than you ‘ave, I’d say.” The two of them glanced to her lamp and had a laugh. Now she was certain something was wrong.

“I think I would agree to that.” She had not fought this one; she had not even met eyes with him. The others of his crew, yes, Blue recognised, but not this one. The man did not make any moves that gave her reason to think he was playing her. He seemed to genuinely think she was a passerby on an unrelated journey.

“The three of you are waiting on your fourth, then?”

“Aye, that we are.”

As they conversed, the door of the captain’s cabin wrenched itself open. No one responded to it, not the ship’s captain, not the two pirates off on their own still, and not the one that she was speaking to. Blue was starting to think that only she could see and hear it.

“If he shows.”

She did her best to not show it, but she was surprised by her company’s additional comment. Could people really just not show up on the Ferry? Where did they go then? She didn’t know anything.

“You will have a lot to discuss when he does,” she replied with a reassuring tone.

“That we do. We’ve gone over what ‘appened, now we just need to decide what ‘appens next, where t’ go meet up and if we get ourselves a couple’a sloops or a nice brig to cram into.” The pirate carried himself with some unease. “Our uncle’s our captain, y’see, and I ain’t lookin’ t’ take his place. Them twos look up to me ‘cause I’m older, but I’m as indecisive as a virgin in a bawdy house on the best’a days.”

That was a very interesting comparison that she allowed a chuckle in response to. His comment regarding where they ought to meet had her wondering: if someone did not have a ship in this place, then where did they go when they walked through that door? There was another question.

“I thought she was your twin sister?”

He gave Blue a wide, toothy grin. “Aye! Pa says I came out first, though.” They shared another laugh.

With the door open, Blue was becoming restless. She knew now what had happened to the galleon and its crew; it irked her to know that they hadn’t needed to fight. If this one soul was anything to go by, the crew was made up of people who did not offend her. She would not have minded having a drink with them in the tavern. No, no, it was Z’s alarm that had bothered her. As the ship approached, she had considered their options; he, on the other hand, had been hell-bent on fighting them.

“I ought to be going now.”

The others of the crew had become restless, too. Unless she sprinted by them, Blue would have to greet them as well. She moved to do that, polite nods to them as she stepped past, but their sister was not so cool with the situation.

“You were at the outpost!” she accused.

Blue stopped just before the swirling portal. For a moment she was still, then she took a deep breath in. “Yes. Yes, I was.” She pushed her hat up before turning to look back at the three so there was no mistaking her identity, taking in their expressions. The other woman looked ready to tear her apart.

“You lot got your asses kicked… somewhere, and then again at Plunder Outpost, yeah?” Realisation was washing over the trio. Blue shrugged. “You gave me no choice, so I fought back. I recall knocking that tall mast over… You lot went and picked those kegs up somewhere between outposts and then our paths converged again.” She made a motion with her hands to express this. “You should be more careful in the future.”

Giving the crew a polite nod once more, Blue stepped forward to disembark the Ferry of the Damned, unable to help the whisper of a smirk she felt crossing her features as they hopelessly lunged forward to stop her.

*

Coming back to the realm of the living was a very unpleasant experience. Blue was certain that coming back this time was worse than it had been the first go-round. When she was more aware of herself, she realised she had sat herself in the middle of the bed, pressed against the wall with her head against her bent knees. Just like before, she had needed time to sit and recollect herself. She also realised that it was very dark and that she was the bed’s only occupant.

Now curious, she brought herself to her feet, ignoring the lingering malaise she felt; it would fade soon enough. It took no time at all for her to find her shipmate as Z had decided to sleep in the chair, arms crossed against his chest with his feet — … foot? — propped up on the table. He didn’t look very comfortable and upon further review, neither did he appear to have intentionally fallen asleep. There was no note, nothing he had been working on. She supposed she ought to be glad he hadn’t fallen asleep in the bed; she had known him a day and he had already surpassed a level of dirtiness that she didn’t think possible by a human. Then again, the entire galleon’s crew was dead, or at least most of it was, and he seemed responsible.

Heading up to the deck, Blue wasn’t sure what she was sure about. As she peered about, she found no other ships. The wreckage nearby where the water became rough was surely the galleon’s, but what of the sloop? And it was so dark… She checked her watch and was alarmed to find that it was nearly 3 a.m. the next morning.

Blue decided that she was much too tired to do anything. There were no immediate threats, no ships in the area that she could spy — she was going to get some sleep. She might not have been alive the last half a day, but she felt as though it had been one of the most arduous of her life. The distant screeching of some creature did not dissuade her from this decision.

Heading downstairs, she collected a blanket, then paused at the entryway. Why in the world he had fallen asleep there, she couldn’t possibly guess, but she could do him the favour of leaving a note. Carefully, a pencil and logbook were retrieved from the shelf beside him; the book was opened to the first blank page and she wrote a small message announcing her presence and if he would please wake her if she had not roused with the sun or before he did. It was quick and sloppy by her standards, but it was sufficient.

The book was left open where she thought Z would see it on the table and she stepped away to head to the sloop’s canvas. She needed some rest. And to stop wondering how he had even fallen asleep with that pegleg on.

*

When Z awoke, the sun had risen high and the inhabitants of the outpost were quite busy with their day. He hadn’t planned to fall asleep last night so this came as something of a surprise to him, stretching and wincing. He had slept in better and worse places but as far as this one went, it was a bad one. Two days of fighting had left him fairly sore all over, but his neck complained the most now. He had just wanted to sit down and relax for a little while; he regretted that a lot now.

Slowly, he put his foot on the ground, his half-leg much sorer. That leg was in dire need of the prosthetic removed and proper rest. He wasn’t sure he wanted to even take a look at it himself. On the other hand, perhaps Blue could do something about it. Speaking of which…

Sat more properly now, Z discovered that a book and pencil had been moved. His knee-jerk reaction was that it was strange, but with a quick glance back towards the canvas he spotted the culprit; there was nothing to be concerned over. He’d been up late into the night so she couldn’t have been back for very long.

Standing, he went to the main-deck to get a better look at their surroundings. The horizon he could see was free of other ships, though he did spot a storm far north. Everyone on the island seemed to have forgotten about the previous day’s battle, lazily going about their business. He shooed a seagull off the port harpoon.

Before he had even made it to the quarter-deck, he could see that underneath her blanket, Blue was still wearing the same clothes from the day before. It looked as though she had come off the Ferry and promptly gone to bed. Now the question came of whether or not he should wake her. He could let her sleep, he still had gold weighing him down, or he could kill some time by bothering her instead.

Or maybe not. In his consideration, Z had paced some on the deck and when he turned back to his shipmate, she was staring at him. She hadn’t even moved. He hoped he didn’t look surprised.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

Pleasantries exchanged, Blue sat up to stretch and he took a respectable step away from her. Now Z wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

“When did you get back?”

“After 3.” They exchanged glances. “I looked at my watch. Why?”

“Jus’ wonderin’. You missed the party.”

She paused, then: “Right, the family.”

“The what now?”

“Family,” she repeated as she got to her feet and stepped past him. Before he knew it, she was on the dock and heading up the hill.

“Hey, where’re y’ goin’?”

“To get breakfast.”

That didn’t sound like a bad idea. It was late morning and after two crazy days, Z liked the idea of a kitchen-cooked meal. He stood on the deck as though he were dumbstruck for a long moment before pacing about, meandering until he felt a long enough time had passed so that he could join her without seeming eager.

When he got up the ladders and entered the tavern himself, Z was unsurprised to find her already sat at a table, leaning against it lazily. As he sat across from her, she rose a brow.

“Let me guess: fruit will not suffice today and you do not fish.”

Whatever he was going to say, Z couldn’t remember. Instead, he sat there with his mouth agape, mimicking the creatures that he did indeed delight eating yet refused to catch himself. Then, “I thought I’d keep y’ company?”

“Very well.” She didn’t seem to believe him, rightfully so, though she seemed to be in a decent enough mood. “I trust you scanned the horizon before you came inside?”

A habit they seemed to share. “Uh huh. Not a thing ‘round us.”

“Good. I am not sure how much more excitement I can take.”

He snorted. “Heh, yeah. Wasn’t much of a challenge, though.” Blue gave him a look that he could only discern as disappointment. He recalled their brief conversation at the dock. “So, what about that gally again?”

“I ran into three of them at the, er…”

“Ferry.”

“Aboard the Ferry. There were three of them there, waiting for their last so they could discuss the matters at hand. I suppose they had been waiting a while and grown bored.”

“And they jus’… had a chat with you?”

Blue smiled. “It was you that started a war with them.”

Z froze, hesitated to respond, and then simply bit the inside of his cheek. She was right and they both knew it. Even worse, he had become so comfortable with the idea of a shipmate already that he had forgotten that he met her because of that fight.

“I did not cross swords with the one I spoke with. It was only their sister who cared to recognise me, and only after the door opened.”

“And by then it was too late…” He chuckled; Blue couldn’t help a small grin.

“What I am getting at is that they came to this outpost to sell what they had salvaged and to gather supplies. Whatever you did left them crippled. They were no threat yesterday, gunpowder barrels notwithstanding. If we had announced ourselves to them yesterday, they would have taken their business elsewhere.”

“I have a hard time believin’ that.”

Blue shifted and scowled. Her attention drifted from him to the kitchen and back. “I am not sure that anyone cares what you believe. Your beliefs and the actions of others are two separate entities.”

Z leaned back some. Her statement seemed defensive to him. Maybe that wasn’t quite right. His thoughts were interrupted by someone stepping through the door that separated the kitchen from the rest of the tavern, two plates and tankards in hand. Blue and the barkeep exchanged some pleasantries as the plates were set before them. Z looked between the plates and her, curious.

“What is this?”

“Your breakfast. I prefer my scraps only feed fish.”

He gave her another look and then glanced about the table. Z wasn’t about to complain about a plate full of bacon, eggs, and potatoes, but he was unnerved as to why exactly she had gotten him a plate without even asking. He should let it go, he reasoned. Now, if she asked for him to pay her back, then he’d have some words.

The two of them sat and ate for a little while, both ravenous. Neither said it, but they appreciated everything at the moment, being off the ship and water, in a cosy building and eating a meal that didn’t consist of fruit or fish and that they hadn’t had to make themselves. Then again, with all the fish in the barrel on the sloop, Z wondered if he wouldn’t have to worry about making himself proper meals for a while now.

Another thought lingered in his mind. Appetite mostly sated now, he asked, “So y’ really think that crew would’ve jus’ up and left?”

She rolled her eyes. Whether it was his question or because he broke the silence, he wasn’t sure. “I am certain.”

“I don’t think so.” He wasn’t convinced.

Blue made a face and it wasn’t because her bacon was burnt. “They had no supplies in which to fight. I do not know what you did to them, but they hardly fought me back at Plunder. Then and yesterday, they did not want to fight.”

This was frustrating both of them. Through numbers alone, the galleon’s crew had an advantage. They should have been prepared for combat after spotting two sloops. “I can’t imagine why.”

“Because… they did not want to. That is all.” Blue rose a brow at him. This conversation was becoming impossible. His thoughts must have been apparent on his face to some degree as she had more to say.

“You like to fight. That is fine. But—”

“Do I, now?” If he hadn’t already been so agitated, he would have let her speak. Now he couldn’t help himself, snapping. “Y’re assumin’ a lot.”

Leaning against the table, Blue picked at her food, a small, haughty smirk on her face. “Am I?” Now he felt like he’d made a mistake by letting his anger get the best of him.

A piece of what remained of her eggs was used to represent Plunder Outpost as she began, pointing to one side with her fork. “When I arrived at Plunder, the outpost was empty so I tied my sloop to the main dock.” She pointed to the opposite side, gesturing to the south. “You and the galleon must have come from here. All of you were surprised to see my ship. You ran into me at the tavern.” With an amused expression, she looked at him. Being reminded of that just annoyed him more. “I know I did not see any of you or your ships prior to your arrival. I decided to help you because fighting off four people is easier than six,” — so she had cautiously assumed at the time that Z had a partner with him — “especially without another set of hands. You still chose to fight me after that.”

“You were in the way.”

Blue dropped her fork, exasperated. She twisted in her seat, apparently unsure if she should just get up and leave right now. She took a deep breath and gathered herself.

“I took no hostile actions toward you until you did.” She took another breath. “You, all on your own, decided to take on a galleon. Even after it was no longer a concern, you came at me again!” For a long moment, she stared at him, letting those words sink in. “Am I incorrect?”

He stared back at her before tending to his food again, having momentarily forgotten about it. Another moment later and he reached over, plucking a piece of bacon off his shipmate’s plate. He spotted a slight twitch upon her lip and had to withhold a laugh.

“Maybe. Are you?” He took pleasure in seeing her brow quirk again. “The gally had treasure worth fightin’ over and after that, I needed a ship. You had one.”

“That does you little good if the Ferry and mermaids return you to your ship, no?”

“Yet here we are.”

“And what would you have done had I not accepted you?”

Z shrugged. “I would’ve figured somethin’ out.” He reached forward to grab the nearest morsel off her plate, the piece of egg she’d used as Plunder Outpost. Her fork found it before he did and they exchanged looks until she pulled it away. They were both very aware of his attempts to provoke her now.

“Am I correct or not?” she asked. He made a small, indecisive noise and she quickly spoke again: “A yes or no will suffice.”

Z narrowed his eyes at her; she was quite keen. “Yes.” A response to satisfy her and get out of the corner she’d backed him into. He spoke again before she could interject. “And what? You don’t?”

That question seemed to surprise her. “No, not at all.”

Blue had spoken with such vitriol that he was taken aback. The two of them were not getting along as well as he had hoped, yet that had been overly aggressive. Z wondered briefly if it was because she was a woman, but that couldn’t be right; some of the fiercest pirates he had met were women. No, Blue must have just had a stick up her ass. Or maybe that wasn’t right, either. Before he explained it to her, Blue had no idea that the Sea of the Damned existed, or that merfolk would take a pirate who had fallen overboard back to their ship. He couldn’t imagine a world where falling off the ship or being mortally wounded was truly the end anymore. Z was intimately aware and comfortable with the unique attributes within this Sea of Thieves, yet Blue hadn’t been aware of this. She must have been living by a set of her own that resembled the rules of the outside world.

He hesitated, then found the courage to ask: “You don’t… or you didn’t?”

“I don’t.”

The silence that stewed between them while he thought seemed to have calmed her. He was thankful for that, if unsure of her response. Thankfully, she had more to say.

“I do not seek out conflict. Or other people at all, really. I told you that I prefer to employ diplomacy over violence, but that does not mean I am any less capable or proud of my abilities to defend myself.” She sipped at her grog, seeming uninterested in the few remaining bites of her meal. “A lot of people seem to think it easy to steal from a smaller ship or crew. Most of them learn the hard way that I am a good shot.”

“Ah.” Z still had a hard time believing her. The facts checked out, she had proved her skills twice over now. She had even smart-talked him a few times in their short knowing each other. Z ultimately decided that it was too soon for either of them to tell if her new understanding of the rules would change her mind. Still…

“So, y’re a capable coward.” He was a little sad that didn’t elicit more than a quirk of an eyebrow from her.

“I do believe I recall you saying that avoiding others was smart. Or did you hit your head that hard?”

Z looked at her, somewhat taken aback. It was another moment before he understood that she had made a joke and gave a small laugh.

“We really did not have a chance to discuss what we ought to do about the sloop that was here, did we?” she continued. “Or the galleon, for that matter. Mm, mostly the sloop. The galleon… I concede that I, too, expected the galleon to be a problem, but…” A thoughtful expression crossed her face before she looked at him. When he didn’t immediately understand, she asked, “What did happen with the sloop after I, err…”

“Bit the dust?” he blurted out. Blue gave him a slightly annoyed look at that saying but nodded her head. “I sent them on their way after I took care of the gally. Those mega-kegs do a lot of damage but they ain’t a sure thing on their own so I made sure no one was there to save the ship, ‘specially not when they go off up in the crow’s nest.” He noticed her eyes all over him as he spoke and tugged on the remaining cuff of one glove; he’d have to buy another set or few of clothes before they left the outpost. Again. “There was a lot of fire.”

“I see,” she said with some amusement. Mostly, she was astonished; the whole thing sounded like chaos. “Mega-keg?”

“Yeah. You’ve popped a red barrel, yeah? Jus’ shot it—”

“A barrel full of gunpowder. Yes, I am aware.”

Blue kept to herself and avoided people; she was anti-social, not stupid. He reminded himself of this before he continued.

“Y’ve seen skeletons pop out of the ground holdin’ ‘em before, yeah? — They only jus’ started doin’ that, by the way, still surprises me — but sometimes they pop out with these kegs that are a bit fatter, with nicer paint and some bones on ‘em. Those’ve got a much bigger bang.”

Realisation crossed Blue’s face like lightning. “Oh.” He chuckled. Then she asked, “The sloop — you sent them off? What do you mean?”

“Yeah, full crew: one in the tavern, one in the sloop. Told ‘em to go wherever, anywhere but stay. I wasn’t in the mood. Why?”

“I was curious.”

They sat there just long enough for Z to begin to get comfortable, then his shipmate drummed her fingers and stood. He was curious and made a noise but earned no response as she left. Raising a brow, he downed his grog, what remained of hers, and hurried after. She had waited for him at the bottom of the ladder and once he stepped foot on the ground, she made her way to the ship with a strong resolve.

“Hey, what’s goin’ on?” he asked. She just motioned for him to keep following as they reached the ship.

When Blue finally relented, it was at the table. She spared a glance to the book that had been laid out before thumbing through a few pages.

“These Flames…” She tapped a finger at a line in the book. “There are six of them per your words, yes?” Z gave her a nod. He couldn’t read her expression and watched with growing curiosity as she placed her dimmed lantern upon the table. “Pink is all I care for right now. It represents one’s death to a pirate, yes?” He nodded again. “Then…”

“Oh.” Z was surprised by the flash of emerald that came from her lantern as she ignited it.

“Green is for…?”

“For skeletons. Huh.” He couldn’t help a small laugh. “Well, that explains that.”

“Explains what?”

“The sloop. Why they left without a fight like that.” He leaned against the entryway, taking his weight off his prosthetic. “I thought they had seen me come off the gally and jus’ thought I was more effort than I was worth, but now I get it.” They each rose a brow at the other.

“Wh—” Blue was bewildered by all of his words. “Do you? Enlighten me, please.”

“You were pushed, aye?” She nodded. “Then it’s simple as that, really.”

“Is it?”

“It is. He was cursed and neither of them were willin’ t’ risk a one-way ticket t’ the Ferry when the fight didn’t go their way.”

Blue just stared at him until she faltered, looking down at the book as though she had realised something. He wasn’t sure at this point, for he, too, realised that he had said something quite telling: coming back from the Sea of the Damned wasn’t certain.

With a sigh, he asked, “What part didn’t you get?”

Her voice was much meeker. “The Ferry doesn’t always open its door for you?”

He shook his head. “Curses can get in the way of that, I hear. Not sure why, but they do. ‘Course, curses get in the way of a lot of things. Pissin’ off the Ferryman will get you stuck, too.”

For a brief moment, he thought that perhaps he’d made some sense. Blue opened her mouth as though to speak, then apparently changed her mind. He made an exasperated noise and turned, disembarking.

“I’m goin’ to go buy meself some things before we leave for the Shores.”

Chapter 6: An Old Boot

Summary:

Leaving Ancient Spire Outpost takes just long enough that Blue and Z have more uninvited company. When they finally leave, they end up somewhere Blue has never been. She lets her anger get the better of her.

By the time they were finally near ready to leave Ancient Spire Outpost, most of the morning had gone by. Her new shipmate had spent a lot of time loitering around, buying this or that. For one who had chastised her about the necessities, Blue had not spotted him along the dock with the Merchant Alliance representative to buy any. Instead, she had watched him spend quite a lot of time and money on pleasantries, alcohol and a cleaning for his blunderbuss. Despite that, he had somehow procured quite a lot of supplies for the ship. She could not help doubting the genuine nature of the crates he filled.

Out of everything she had spotted Z dawdling about with, she was most glad to spot him in a clean set of clothes, bandages apparently shaken. The galleon and her crew were something that they would probably never come to an agreement on, but whatever exactly had happened had left him looking… rough. He looked much better now.

Her shipmate was taking his sweet time. Blue had become bored and sat down at the table aboard the sloop and busied herself with a sword. She couldn’t complain about a little time to refine a blade.

“What’re you doin’?”

Or perhaps she could. Blue sighed and refrained from being too rude. “Since you felt the need to loiter and stock up so much, I decided to otherwise occupy myself. It will be a long trip, will it not?” She paused for a moment; Z was not company that she considered terribly smart or polite and so she was very glad that he did not take this opportunity to make any sort of obnoxious remarks while she silently chided herself. “Galleon’s Grave is still quite far away and the wind favours everyone but us.”

Maybe he hadn’t said anything because he didn’t understand what she was doing. The stupid look on his face certainly seemed to suggest that. “Uh, right, but what are you doin’?” He gestured to her in general.

She inhaled, counted to five, and then looked back to her shipmate. “The swords?” she asked, mimicking his motion. He made a noise of affirmation. “I collect rubbish swords and restore them to working condition when I have spare time. I then sell them for quite the profit.” Understanding spread across his face. “You certainly do not need a new blade.” She gestured to his arm. “I could dress up the hilt if you like, make it look like you stole it from a king from beyond the Shroud, but one of my swords would be a folly trade.”

He looked far less certain now. Z jerked his head back, looking between her and her weapons. “What?”

“I am not a metalsmith nor have I the proper tools of one, only what I have scavenged. I take old, worn weapons and make them a little useful again, not like new, though sometimes they look better than new. Should a few pirates die because they are stingy is of no concern to my bag of gold and I.” The old blade was set on the table and Blue shrugged.

The dumb look on Z’s face had become more subdued but lingered nonetheless. “And that don’t bother you none? People dyin’ t’ yer shitty swords?”

“Why would it? I have no love for the pirates here or anywhere else.”

Z seemed dumbfounded by her answer. Before he could speak, she stood and spoke.

“I am going back up to the tavern. I will be just a few minutes and when I return, we may leave. Is that acceptable?” When he didn’t respond in a timely manner with an objection, Blue stepped past him and onto the dock. She took the winding path around the mountain to the tavern, rather than the ladders.

It was a shame that there was no Bilge Rat representative at the inn today. Often, a curious voyage or few could be purchased from them, and what curious things that one man always had to say. Instead, Blue had to rely on the barkeep for rumours, of which there were no interesting ones. It seemed that they would be able to continue their voyage with nothing interesting on their minds.

Or perhaps not. Once she stepped out of the door, a tall group of masts out on the water to the north caught her eye. She recognised their colours and flags and she was glad for it; one galleon was bad enough. A trio of galleons was unfathomable for a single sloop, even one with a good duo-team aboard it.

Any decent fleet would have a lookout somewhere so she stepped to the edge of the tavern’s plateau and waved. A lone figure in the crow’s nest of the galleon lagging behind waved back. She was glad to see it, yet she doubted her shipmate would share in her relief.

Making her way to the front of the tavern, Blue took the ladders down. Midway, she waved to Z and hollered for him to move the sloop, just loud enough to be heard and refrain from being rude. He had spotted the galleons himself and was rigid.

Back at the sloop, Blue started with a stern, “Oi.”

“What?!”

“You are still in our friends’ way.” He was so stiff that she didn’t wait for a response from him. Instead, she began the process of partially untying the sloop herself and then pulling it away from the main dock and out of the way of the larger vessels.

“What are you— what??” Z motioned at the dock she was stood on, to the island itself, to the galleons — his eyes darted everywhere as he did this. He seemed quite flustered and now teetered close to being more than useless in this moment.

“The ship was in their way,” she reiterated, speaking slowly. The words were allowed to sink in. “Now, tighten your tie and put on a smile, yeah?” She didn’t wait for a response before she turned from him and walked alongside the first ship as it approached, raising a hand in greeting. The fleet and its commander were just as she remembered. “Johnathan! How goes it?”

Off the forecastle of the now docking galleon, a man well-dressed in the Merchant Company colours was slow to raise his head and look about, then raise a hand in kind after identifying her. “It goes well.”

It had taken a long time for Johnathan to fully take in her and her sloop. Between him and the crews, it felt like there was some amount of surprise, a low-level sort that made her wonder who would be flogged and how badly. No skin off her back, she supposed…

Any decent Merchant Alliance vessel was loaded with goods. With three galleons and an ego to match, Blue knew that there would be good pickings here.

“My sail is still torn,” she started, the both of them knowing full well that she was still owed a favour.

“Oh, is it?” A response of feigned ignorance. A moment was spared to glance at the sloop, then back to Blue. She spoke before he could.

“Mhmm. That one is theirs. I had to fish it out of the water and replace my sail with it right then and there.” Her tone was polite. Too polite, even. Johnathan could only barely take a hint.

“Oh. Shame about that. Ah, one moment.” He turned away from her and shouted at his crew — her presence was not encouraging them to move as quickly as he would like. He turned to address her again. “Quite the shame for them. You came out of it one sail richer. One crewmate richer, too, I see.”

Blue spared a momentary glance back to her shipmate. “I hired him more recently.” She crossed her arms. “I came out of that fight with a stolen, plain sail. My decorated sail is still torn.” She was quiet for a moment, letting Johnathan watch her observe his crew offload various goods. “Have you any golden silks?” He shook his head, tried to speak but she interjected. “No, of course not. What do you have that would make me less miserable in The Wilds with my current sail?”

“The Wilds?” Finally, he stepped off the ship and stood over her, pulling her into a sort of sideways hug that she didn’t return. Was Z looking? Probably. “Whatever could persuade you to go to such a drab locale?”

“Untorn sails.”

It was so much easier for Blue to let herself smile than it was for him; she could let her amusement show while he fought to hide his frustration.

“I’ve plenty of silks—”

“Golden silks?”

She could have done without the harsh grip on her waist.

“Silks of all other colours, I swear.”

“What a shame. Have you any coffee?”

“Plenty of tea, rather. Spices and sugar, the whole lot.”

“Such a shame.” She could feel his grip become ever so slightly tighter…

“There is also specialty rum and dried fish from the Devil’s Roar, too.”

Blue had to pause to consider that. She would like that. Z probably would, too.

“The fish isn’t bad, quite good, actually. You wouldn’t have to cook for two every day, for uh…” With his free hand, he motioned over to the sloop and Z, then let his arm drop as though he had to think of what to say.

“No, I suppose I would not,” she interjected. “Fish and rum and red silks then.” She offered a small purse of coins that he accepted.

“Very good— w-what?”

“Discount for trade with friends, yes?” The look on his face was greatly amusing.

“… a small discount for friends…” Johnathan pocketed the purse and ordered the items to be brought to them. She allowed herself to lean slightly against him as he did this.

“Perhaps a wood crate, too? You know how angular and erratic those rocks can be, how shallow the water is.” Blue didn’t flinch at the pinch to her flank.

“You do speak the truth…” His words were long and tired.

“A cannonball crate, too? For all those skeleton ships lurking about those rocks, you know.”

“Yes, yes, I know!” A stride’s distance was put between them and the crew was shouted at again, his fingers snapping at them to hurry the pace along. When he turned back to her, Blue spoke first, already knowing what he would ask.

“Unfortunately, we cannot stay for lunch. It is already midday and the wind is terrible for our travel.” She shrugged and turned. A glance to her own ship and she could see that Z was as eager to get moving as she was.

“What a shame.”

“Truly, it is.” Hands politely behind her back, Blue gestured to her shipmate. “We really must be going; we have our own busy schedule to adhere to.” It took a moment, but she saw Z jump, pretending to be so impatient that he couldn’t sit still on the ship while he waited for them to finish their conversation. Well, perhaps he wasn’t pretending so much.

“Another time then,” Johnathan suggested. He offered, “We came from The Shores of Plenty and our route ends here, so perhaps I will see you up north. Discount for trade, you know.”

Blue ignored his tone and kept her polite smile. “Perhaps so.”

Z whistled for attention; Johnathan turned to see what his problem was and Blue simply took her attention to the crates she had requested, offering small thanks to the ones that had brought them. She stacked them so they could be carried and the two said their cordial goodbyes as she made her way back to the sloop. As soon as her feet were on the deck, Z lowered the sail and they were quickly leaving Ancient Spire. That didn’t stop Blue from adding her own, “Let’s go,” just as she passed through the threshold to the hold. At the table, she set her newly acquired supplies down to glance through them, see what had been skimmed from them before reaching her hands — she would refrain from complaining for even one crate was worth the handful of gold spent.

A jingling from the rum bottles made her look at the crate just in time to stop it from sliding off the table, the silk unceremoniously falling in its stead. Now, before she could start going through everything in earnest, she was acutely aware of just how poor the sailing was in this exact direction. They could head directly north as they currently did, cut across the channel and skirt past the islands of The Wilds until they reached their destination, or they could take a longer, more pleasant route.

“Turn the ship westerly, would you? This wind is simply awful,” Blue said from the table.

Slowly, the horizon shifted and she was certain that she had been heard. With their route adjusted, the ship rolled more smoothly over the waves and Blue could stash everything she had obtained into a temporary place until they stopped and she could more thoroughly sort it. Until then, she would sit at the table and work on the blade she had started earlier, eager to shake her sour mood.

*

After everything that had transpired during their attempt to rest at the outpost, it was wonderful to be out on the open water again. Despite the luxuries afforded by any port, there were far fewer people out here and that meant Blue could clear her mind. Having someone to take over the helm for her meant that she could get some work done while they travelled for once. Of course, that wouldn’t be necessary if he hadn’t been around in the first place, or if he had better manners… Still, Blue allowed herself to soak in the current arrangement.

“Hey.”

… for as long as she was allowed to, at least. Blue paused her work on the sword, refrained from barking at him to disappear, and gave him her attention.

“Y’ wanna go across the channel or find somewhere t’ hunker down for the night?”

Between their loitering at the outpost, bartering with the Merchant fleet, and the poor wind conditions, they hadn’t made much progress towards The Wilds. It hadn’t been a good day. Pressing forward and accomplishing something that felt meaningful was attractive, but stopping for rest was still more appealing. That would be more beneficial as a crew, too.

“Stop us at the nearest island.”

“The nearest island?”

Something about the way he asked that rubbed her the wrong way. She wondered if she had stuttered, which she knew she hadn’t, and repeated, “The nearest island.” She dipped her chin and focused once more on sharpening the sword she held, certain that the screeching of whetstone on steel would convince her shipmate to busy himself.

Soon enough, the motion of the ship cresting waves became more and more gentle and it slowed to a stop. The idea of getting up and stretching her legs on dry land was a nice one, but as soon as she emptied her hands and looked about, Blue was acutely aware that this was no ordinary island they had stopped at.

Docks were commonplace at many islands, but this one was tiny. More strange were the wooden battlements just before the dock that surrounded the perimeter. A tall person might have to duck their head to step foot on land proper and pass under the turrets it supported. From the main deck of the sloop, Blue scanned the area. The smell of old gunpowder permeated the air, and something else she couldn’t identify. From the way they had travelled and what she could see in the distance, she was fairly certain they were at Old Boot Fort.

“Why are we here?”

Z leaned against the wheel. “It was the nearest island.”

Blue took a breath in; it wasn’t bone, was it? She suppressed the urge to strike him as she futilely tried to understand his logic. “Sailing conditions have not been in our favour. They have been poor, even. There is no reason to hurry ourselves to The Wilds. Likewise, there is no reason to stop here…”

“It was—”

“Nearest island or not.” Blue crossed her arms, trying to decide what made him pull this stunt. So far, Z had made good on their agreement to teach her whatever he thought she might not know and that gave her cause for concern. She thought about her words — previously said and new ones — while he made his way down to the main-deck to join her. She also took note of the limp that she decided he was trying to hide.

“Is there any danger resting here?” she inquired.

Z leaned against the mast now. “Nah. Some pirates think these strongholds are haunted. I guess in a way they are — skellies like these islands. Guess they’re theirs or somethin’, the way they act. Sometimes. Sometimes there are… a lot of them, and with loot t’ steal.” He paused to look at her. “You’ve noticed it, haven’t you? That sometimes there’s more skellies here or there, an ominous cloud or two…”

“And the pirates that follow.”

“And pirates followin’,” he repeated. Then he smirked. “Of course, some’a those pirates think a lot of other crazy things, too: that these islands are haunted by ghosts, or that if you stop at one y’ll be killed the next time you sleep, that merfolk will tear yer ship apart, that crabs will climb aboard and pluck yer eyes out…”

Blue gave him a quizzical look. Some of what he had said was correct; there were skeleton ships roaming areas with increased interest when these fortresses became inhabited, at least according to pirates she spoke to. They would have curious treasures she rarely saw and report that they had taken them from the vaults of these places after fighting scores of skeletons for it. Yet, some of what he said was utterly ridiculous.

She asked, “These are but mere tall tales?”

“Aye.”

“They are as ridiculous as the sailors that repeat them.”

Z nodded, though he didn’t look as though he agreed. “Aye.”

“And yet, myths and legends must come from somewhere.” Blue wasn’t actually sure if she believed anything he had said except the part about the skeletons, but his interest was clearly upon her now.

“Well, there are no skeletons here. Not now, anyhow,” she continued. “We have not been greeted. How about we go scavenge more supplies?” She moved as though to leave the ship, but he didn’t budge. She feigned surprise. “Or are you afraid to go and see?”

He rose a brow, unimpressed. “Don’t need t’; there’s nothin’ up there. I’ve been at the wheel all day and the last thing I want t’ do’s go climbin’ a fort’s wall for a few rancid poms.”

That was curious; Z thought he had spent all day doing that? He stood proper as though to move and Blue stepped in his way, standing close. “Are you sure?”

“‘Course I’m sure.”

“Then you should have no problem going up there with me and salvaging whatever we can find.”

Z looked annoyed, though his expression softened noticeably as soon as she pressed her shoulder against his chest.

“All of those awful stories people tell of these places have to come from somewhere, do they not?” she asked, leaning into him.

He scoffed. “Maybe. Some pirates also tell tales of lady merfolks that have pretty songs and then kill every crew that comes t’ listen to ‘em.”

Stories of sirens were not uncommon. It was all untrue, of course, products of sailors who had drank seawater or otherwise become ill. Blue pretended to not know better, acting greatly concerned. Her hands went to gripping one of his forearms. “That’s terrible!”

Now Z looked concern. He looked at her, astonished; one of his eyebrows just might have flown off his face if he had believed her anymore. A noise came from him that she wasn’t sure of and then he was burying his face in one of his hands.

Blue kept her hands where they were, though lessened her grip. She took a step to the side and swung a foot behind him, pulling it sideways. It was incredible how easy it was to fell him, yet she didn’t think his shout was entirely one of surprise. He deserved it for trying to hide whatever was wrong with his leg from her and for believing that she was truly scared, the fool.

She waited for him to finally look up, grinned and taunted, “Those are very silly stories, are they not?”

Z was left to consider his current situation as Blue disembarked the sloop to scavenge supplies and find some solitude on the fort.

*

Pirates or not, most sailors were a superstitious lot. Sometimes these fears made sense and helped keep them alive, keep their ships safe; more often, they were utterly ridiculous. As she scavenged the highest points of Old Boot Fort, Blue wasn’t sure of what to make of these thoughts.

Upon spotting the first abandoned gunpowder barrel, Blue had paused and given it more that than she normally would have in the past. Should it explode and she be caught in the blast, she doubted that it would be a painful experience, and she doubted that she would even remember it should it kill her. New knowledge of the Sea of the Damned and its Ferry was swiftly changing her thought processes. It was for the better, she decided. Now, in a situation like this, the only real risk any stray powder barrels posed were to the ship.

There were many partial skeletons scattered about the island. Along the main path that led to the vault was a mostly complete one. It seemed that its owner had tripped, fallen, died and their corpse had been left undisturbed by everything but time. This must have happened quite some time ago for the earth was reclaiming their bones, yet before an outstretched hand on the ground was a fresh pineapple, sat as though it had been placed there. These bones had ceased moving a long time ago; was it a cruel joke by some unseen entity? She pressed onward and turned her thoughts elsewhere.

Animated skeletons were very real and they posed real dangers. Any visitor of the Sea of Thieves would know this. Perhaps there were good reasons to fear these strongholds at all times. Perhaps it had been cruel to treat Z the way she had. Then again, he had a nasty habit of treating her like she was nothing more than a child…

Despite what he had told her, there were plenty of useful items strewn about the island. Many of the barrels and crates were old, the items in them even older, yet Blue was still able to find some that had more recently been recovered from the ocean. After all the time spent at outposts as of late, they were not wanting for fresh supplies, but good fruit was always appreciated. If Blue were not so fond of starting the day with crispy fins, the fruit alone here would sustain them for over a fortnight.

With her pockets filled with decent coconuts and her arms full of shot and planks, Blue glanced around from the top of the island. Except where the island blocked her view, visibility of the area was incredible. A great deal of the whole Sea of Thieves could be seen from where she stood. If she climbed all the way to the top of the structure at the centre, she realised she would have a totally unimpeded 360 degree view from this one island. It was a small landmass, but its location was prime. No wonder it had been claimed.

Most interesting, however, was the ship, or more specifically her shipmate. From her vantage point, Blue could see that Z was yet to move from where she had laid him out. That seemed unreasonable so it must have been that she could not see clearly enough from where she was. Her curiosity piqued and plenty of supplies in hand, Blue made her way back down to the ship.

When she got there and could see clearly, Blue saw that no, she had not been mistaken: Z was still very much still sprawled out on the deck where she had left him. She initially ignored him and instead made her way below deck to store her newly acquired goods. When that was done, she was back on the main-deck to better sort the cannon shots out, but when even that failed to elicit any significant movement from him, she shot a curious look in his direction.

“Are you going to get up any time soon?”

“Nah, I’m pretty comfy.”

Blue looked him over again. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah. Think I’ll sleep out here. You can have yer bed back t’night.”

Blue rose a brow. He was quite mistaken. “I sleep on the canvas.”

“Y’ don’t have to.”

“I always sleep on the canvas.”

“Don’t y’ think it’ll be crowded out here t’night if y’ do that?”

“I think I ought to be the one asking that…” She felt her face contort. She shook her expression away and leaned against the mast; he was being ridiculous. “Sleep in the bed, I do not use it anyway.”

“This is fine. Why don’t y’ use the bed?” Now that he was aware of how close she was, he was a bit more animated.

“Old habits.” The conversation was annoying. Blue pulled away from the mast and knelt down. “Your legs — what ails you? I did not kick you th—”

He was sat up as soon as she was at his level and words flew off his tongue. “Yes you did! I don’t get why y’ did it, neither. That was just plain mean. There wasn’t—”

Blue wasn’t sure why her two fingers on his lips silenced him. “I did not kick you very hard,” she said sternly. She withdrew her fingers so he could not bite, should it cross his mind. “And you know precisely why I did it.”

“I do not!”

“Surely a man of your cleverness knows why and why you are about to be kicked again if you keep up this attitude.”

Z scowled and she stared back with unimpressed eyes. She stood upright and when she made a motion with one leg, perhaps to kick him again, perhaps to step on his leg, he recoiled, hands up to yield.

“Fine! Fine. It’s… botherin’ me is all.”

“Bothering you?”

“Yeah.”

“I would think it is a little more than bothering you for how long you have laid here.”

“What, y’ don’t ever relax when y’re sore?”

Blue wanted to strike him. He was being annoying, running around the subject, and he damn well knew it. She didn’t think that he was terribly smart, no, yet he was showing more and more that he was more clever than he led on. She wondered if it was worth arguing more with him. Any other time, any other circumstance, she would have let him be, let him whinge and die, but this was her reality, too.

Rather than do any of that, Blue ducked below deck. She grabbed a spare blanket and pillow that she was not terribly fond of and returned to her shipmate. “Fine then,” she began, feigning concession. “If this is where you would like to sleep, then you shall.”

There was a brief moment that Z looked surprised, then smugly satisfied. Neither said anything as the items were passed over, Blue going as far as to set the pillow down right where his head would lie.

“Ah, this is more like it. Thank you, thank you…” How very full of himself.

“You’re quite welcome,” she said with a smile.

Z was making himself comfortable as she said that. His movements slowed, becoming more deliberate. She noted a subtle change in his expression, too, followed by a vague attempt to hide his face by dipping his chin against his chest as he fumbled with the blanket. He was about to speak when she stepped over him; one knee buried itself into his thigh and the other leg supported her weight. One arm flew under his partial leg, pulling it back and taking it hostage while she used her other hand to remove the prosthetic. The blanket made his attempts to fight back futile and he yielded quickly.

As Blue had suspected, his leg was more than ‘bothering’ him. In the short time that they had known each other, she had never seen him remove the pegleg on his own. The infection that had taken hold was quite a nasty sight and she was wondering just how she had gotten herself into this situation, a question she found herself wondering far too often as of late.

“You are really making me work for these secrets of yours,” she commented. She felt him wiggle defiantly underneath her and she reinforced her weight on him in response. Only when she was certain that he was done pissing and moaning about did she bring her hand to her back, untucking her shirt enough so that she could withdraw her knife. She felt him tense up.

“Whoa. Hey!”

Blue had already pulled his knee against her chest so his attempt to jerk his leg back and free did nothing but push her a little.

“You are fine,” she halfheartedly reassured. The blunt edge of the blade was used to push some dirt and scabbing away as she examined the wound. All things considered, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, should have been, even.

“There is nothing to cut away here, only to soothe.” She paused and twisted slowly to look back at him. “And to properly rest.”

He looked annoyed.

“Stay here.”

She gave the side of his knee a little pat before handing custody of the limb back over, standing quickly so he couldn’t try anything. Z’s noises of complaints were ignored and she was back on the island. This time she passed the supplies by, only noted them for later collection. The terrain was scoured until she was back towards the highest point of the island. This pile of scrap had been spotted earlier and in it was a branch large enough to serve as a walking stick for Z. A nearby aloe plant was goaded into donating a leaf, too.

Back at the ship, Blue found her shipmate where she left him. She made her way past and to the table, placing everything there. Even her dagger and its sheath and belt were placed down; there was no point wearing it, she decided. Z, on the other hand, was a different story. It was only when she made her way back over to him and crouched down that he responded, lifting his head.

“Shall we get you on your foot now?” It was more of a suggestion than a question and Blue wasn’t going to give him time to sass her over it. One arm went under his and she was pulling him up, much to his surprise. Perhaps he had considered protesting, but he did not, very quickly stumbling upright. He leaned heavily on her for this, what with the one foot and wound, but somehow it felt as though he were being purposefully cumbersome. Nonetheless, he was led to the desk and plopped into the chair without argument. The stick was then offered and he gave her an annoyed look that she was unable to discern the exact mood of.

“What?”

She rose a brow at him. “What?” She made a gesture to offer the stick to him again. Just what did he…? She shook her head. “You do not expect me to carry you every time you would like to move around, do you?”

The two of them stared at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time. When Blue got the feeling that he was about to say something stupid, she spoke quickly: “Your leg will not heal if you do not allow it to rest. Now take the damn branch.” He gave her an exasperated sigh and did so.

With that matter finally handled, Blue could retrieve the discarded prosthetic from the deck. Despite it being tossed earlier, it was now handled more carefully; she would hate to be responsible for causing actual damage to it. Z still looked annoyed as she passed by to store it under the grog barrel with the rest of his belongings.

When Blue returned to him, reached for the aloe, he couldn’t resist speaking. “This again?”

She wanted to smack him. “If you prefer, I could let your leg fester, let it crawl up your leg and take what is left of it. Perhaps take what is even more dear to you, too, I am sure.” He made a face. She wanted to laugh but only shrugged instead.

“Maybe your life, too. That would solve all of my problems.”

She didn’t say those last words. As much as she wanted to chide him, Blue refrained from scolding him even more. Rather, she gave him an unimpressed look and helped him prop his half-leg on the corner of the table so she could tend to it. She was in the midst of slicing the aloe leaf open when he broke the silence that had not lingered nearly long enough.

“Can I ask you somethin’?”

She wanted to stab him. The question didn’t stop her from tending his leg, spreading a generous amount of the aloe’s jelly across the afflicted area, and it gave her something to focus on. There were other uses for her dagger here, but she refrained.

“What?”

“I get the feelin’ y’ don’t like me.”

“Make your point.”

He shifted slightly. “That wasn’t a no.”

Blue paused and looked up at him impassively, reconsidering her blade. He shifted again.

“Err, my point…” Annoyingly, he seemed to be at a loss for words. “Why… why bother with this—” he gestured to her and his leg “—if you don’t?”

How in all the hells Blue got stuck with this pirate rather than any other was beyond her. She almost asked him aloud. There wouldn’t have been any point — it wouldn’t have made anyone feel any better. He was dumb as rocks and anyone who could have answered her had forsaken her long ago. She bit the inside of her cheek, steadied her hands, and pulled away from him.

“I believe there is a saying for most of these situations, that a crew or ship — any grouping, really — is only as strong as its weakest member. Link. Something about a chain. Therefore, it is in my interest to make sure that you do not drag me down with you, is it not?”

Blue didn’t wait for a response before she walked away.

Chapter 7: Shipwreck Bay

Summary:

Stopping at Shipwreck Bay to potentially wait out a storm, Blue and Z get to talking some more. Things get a little heated.

Notes:

Happy Friday the 13th! :) This chapter's one of my favourites.

The night spent at Old Boot Fort had been a strange one. Blue’s shipmate had been quiet for the remainder of it after their conversation and she was very thankful for that. When she was done gathering more supplies from the island, she lingered at the top of the structure. It was more than a pretty sight, useful for watching the storm in the Wilds — that could prove to be problematic for them depending on where it went through the night.

When she did finally sleep, Blue was true to her word and slept on the canopy. She awoke early when it was still dark and chilly, having shot upright, breathing heavy. Nothing seemed amiss. It was just when she was about to get mad at herself for panicking over nothing when she heard a loud splash on the other side of the fort that she spotted the brigantine. The ship was still sailing, riding the crosswind and blitzing away. She hadn’t dreamt of the cannonfire.

Knees bent, unable to stand fast enough, Blue froze as someone on the island spotted her and spoke first. “Oh, why hello there!”

Wasn’t the whole point of being here that no one would bother them? Blue now knew who to be angry at about this.

It was still very dark with only a little moonlight to aid her vision, but Blue was just barely able to make out a second, similarly dressed pirate further inland on the ramp. “Salutations. What brings you here?”

“Supplies. There’s fightin’ food on these forts,” the one on the edge near her replied.

“Ah.” If there was anything that would attract others, it would be the same thing that brought them here. Blue looked at him for a moment, then clearly looked to his partner at the back wall, the one that was climbing up the ramp to the upper section. She looked back to the man closest to her and said, “Then you and your mate will find what remains at the top of the island.”

In the back, the far pirate now bounded upwards with much more purpose. Closer to her, the other pirate gave her a salute. “Thank’ee very much.” He started to turn around, then paused. “You know, if you ever get tired of that little thing, my brother and I could use another set of hands.”

Though she was cautious by nature and would never take up his offer, Blue got the feeling that it was genuine. As far as she could tell, there was no reason for him to lie to her and none of their behaviours had unsettled her. It raised a question, however: “You let your brigantine ghost sail?”

He blinked. “Uh…”

“Oi, move it!”

Yes, yes they had. Blue bit the inside of her cheek to hold her laughter back. The pirate up high launched himself from there into the water to the nearby merfolk splashing at the water’s surface — Blue just now noticed it and realised that she was unable to hear its song. His nearby mate sheepishly hurried to fill his pocket’s with something useful and chased after. He gave her another wave before departing with a gurgle with a second merfolk.

Only when she was certain that the brigantine was not going to turn around did Blue relax, letting out a long breath when she fell back onto the canopy. The encounter had been neutral and brief, but it could have been so much worse. A noise down low at the mid-deck caught her attention, pulling her away from her thoughts before she dove into them. In her distress, she had forgotten all about Z. Neither of them said anything, only exchanged looks of acknowledgement from their separate levels before he ducked back down.

Blue wasn’t sure what what to make of any of this. There was no doubt in her mind that her shipmate would want to talk about it later; she wasn’t keen to talk about something that was done and over with. The only thing she wanted to do was go back to sleep, but that wasn’t going to happen. She pulled her blanket back over herself and rolled onto her side, counting the number of times she heard the water splash against the side of the sloop while she watched the horizon.

*

“Are we goin’ t’ talk about earlier?”

“Are we going to talk about your unkempt face?”

Z was quiet for a long moment. Though she was at the wheel, Blue was certain that it was because he was trying to glare up at her through the planks of the quarter-deck.

“Is this the time when y’ come down and jus’ so happen t’ have a razor t’ hand me?”

Blue wanted to laugh; she almost did. She just shook her head to herself. Even if she could fish a razor out of the barrels, she knew she had no mirror for him to use.

“We will worry about it later, yes?”

“How much later y’ thinkin’? I don’t think we’re gettin’ anywhere with that storm in our way.”

Z was right. The storm that she had spotted had moved into the area they needed to go through. It was large and strong enough that even only halfway across the shipping channel, they were beginning to feel its effects. The air was cooler, the wind was stronger, and now some of the suggestions Blue had made earlier — a quick conversation of which Z was given little choice in debating over anyway — were now much less choices and more necessities. They would have to stop and weather the storm.

“Perhaps not too much later,” she said. He just laughed and she sighed.

Blue continued: “If I recall correctly, you are the one that stopped us at a skeleton fortress.” She paused just long enough for him to start making obnoxious noises, then added, “And you did so without prior discussion. This time, we have done so and we agreed to stop at the next charted island.”

He made a quiet mocking noise that she found amusing.

“Oh, hush. We are making good time.”

“And then we can sit with our thumbs up each other’s arses for a few days and do a whole lotta nothin’ in the cold rain,” Z whined.

“I cannot think of a better way to spend the time you need to heal.”

Z groaned loudly. Blue just smiled to herself and readjusted her grip on the wheel as they entered the Wilds.

*

Shipwreck Bay was a large, foreboding island surrounded by numerous smaller islets. Its namesake was obvious for multiple beached and dilapidated ships littering its shoreline. Though Blue had visited the locale a few times before, she had never stayed for an extended period of time. She enjoyed the challenge of sailing around the giant rocks and islets until a proper beach to stop at was found. The southeastern side of the island was chosen this time, near the largest shipwreck.

“So how much time do y’ reckon we’ll be spendin’ here?”

Already, Blue wanted to strangle her shipmate. “As much time as we need to.” She pulled the ropes of the sail tight, making sure it was furled well.

“Ha ha, fine, but really.”

Blue considered going down there and striking him. Instead, she climbed the ladder to the crow’s nest and peered about. There was nothing of interest but the storm. Dagger Tooth Outpost was fully enveloped by it and it was impossible to tell which direction it was heading after.

Z had made his way to the main-deck while she was up there and he waited near the mast for her to come down. He had stayed his tongue until then, but with her back on deck, he was adamant on an answer. Blue just held a hand up to hush him.

“We will stay for the night and see where the storm has wandered to in the morning. Is that acceptable?”

He looked as though he was debating being difficult. “Fine.”

“In the meantime, make yourself comfortable, hm? I am sure I can find something to amuse myself with on the island.”

“Uh huh. Uh…” There was that look, that tone. She was starting to despise it.

“What?”

“You… y’ talk like y’ve never explored this place.”

“I make my deliveries here when needed and leave as quickly as possible. I do not loiter. It is the Wilds, after all.”

She let that statement hang in the grey air until she was certain that he wouldn’t speak anymore. Then she turned away from him so that she could move the rowboat and turn it into a stepping stone from the ship to the beach and disembarked entirely.

Shipwreck Bay was a strange island. It was wide with a sharp height in the middle of it. No island came close to having as many ships run aground, either. The more she looked around, the more she felt like something was wrong about that.

The verticality was mostly confined to one rock formation, but it was impressive. Beside it was a ship that Blue was sure was grand beyond words when it was seaworthy. She spied an easy walk from its bowsprit to the rocky mass she could use when she was ready. For now, she climbed into what remained of the captain’s quarters and rested there. A small respite from her shipmate was relieving.

“Explorin’ the Blackwyche, are you?”

If only a brief respite.

“I saw the nameplate,” she sighed. How did— no, why was he here? She could hear him ascending and stayed where she was. The sight of his pegleg was infuriating.

“A little stroll won’t hurt me,” Z said, reading her expression.

“Uh huh.”

“Really.”

If Z could see how truly unhappy she was, he might have left her alone. As it was currently, his tone was only slightly more reassuring than it normally was.

“Really. Really, I’ll be fine. Come on. Instead of wanderin’ ‘round like a lost puppy, I’ll show you ‘round. Besides, it’s already late and that storm’s comin’ this way.”

She rose a brow. “Is it now?”

“Yeah. And I swea—”

“If I promise to not scold you for that right now—” she gestured vaguely to his leg “—will you stop begging for my forgiveness?”

The response came immediately: “Yes.”

“Then I solemnly swear that I shall not lecture you at this moment or unnecessarily so after tonight’s rest when you will certainly feel the repercussions of this moronic decision.”

“Close enough.” He seemed happy with that. “So, the Blackwyche— … why are y’ sat in that corner?”

She waved him off. “It is comfortable. Go on…”

“Right.” Z fixed his crooked brow and continued. “Ahem, right, the Blackwyche— a fine ship in her day by all accounts, the few there are. Most pirates don’t talk too much ‘bout old ships like this. Her captain and crew, too. They were pretty fine, too, but here their ship is, all washed up like any other ol’ wreckage. An unspecial end for all of them.”

Blue was so certain that he would have had more to say about this ship and crew. “Is that all?”

“All I know. I don’t hang ‘round t’ hear stories about dead men and dead ships; ain’t nothin’ t’ take off’a ones this old.” He froze so briefly that Blue almost missed it, then he shrugged. He turned and motioned to a painting. “Guess that’s the captain.”

“A shame that you are not one for stories; a captain with a lovely portrait like that was surely someone of some importance.”

Blue could tell her shipmate was losing interest in the matter when he shrugged again. “Has this island always had this name?” she asked.

“Far as I know.”

“I suppose it is one of those things you pirates do not question, hm? An island called Shipwreck Bay, surrounded by smaller islands and full of ships beached and abandoned and destroyed — an apt name by all accounts.”

Z gave her a small but exasperated glare. That seemed fitting, both his reaction and the island’s name. Neither of them pushed the subject further; rather, Blue decided that it was time to move on. She was up on her feet and atop the ship’s stern in no time at all, crossing the gap between that and the bow effortlessly. She waited on the forecastle for her shipmate to follow. It took him just long enough to follow that she felt the slightest impatience.

“I do not see anything interesting on the other side here.”

“Nah, this thing was cleaned out ages ago. The top’s a lot more in’erestin’, though. C’mon.” Far quicker than he had any right be, Z bounded up the bowsprit and crossed from it onto the beginning of the island’s peak. Blue saw nothing of any interest from where she was, but she followed nonetheless.

Once across, she discovered that some of the rocky formation was hollowed out. There were three openings, but it could provide shelter if needed. Had there not been a perfectly good ship down below, this would have been useful. For now, she would keep this knowledge in the back of her mind.

“Come, come.”

Z was adamant on taking her through one of those openings to… somewhere. It led upwards along the rock, just steep enough that Blue would never have considered climbing it just a week ago. Now she only hesitated a little. Should she fall, she would only want the fall to kill her properly. Again.

Her shipmate was very excited and Blue supposed she couldn’t blame him: the view from up here was incredible. To the south, a great deal of the Ancient Isles was visible across the channel. To the east and north was the rest of the Wilds, though much of it was hidden by the storm that Blue could now track. Out to the west and northwest was the Shores of Plenty, further out in the distance. In the general west direction were three large, uncharted islands, unused by anyone for a higher purpose. A galleon was at the largest of them.

“Well now.” Having seen what she could from her perch, and by how he acted to get here, Blue’s gut told her that her shipmate had been stood here before. His reasons had likely been very different, but the purpose was similar enough. The view was invaluable.

“I have seen worse storms,” she started, peering through her spyglass to better judge its movement; “I would still like to avoid this one. Its rotation should not bring it too close to us.”

“So what’re y’ thinkin’?”

“I would like to rest and you need to rest, so it is unavoidable. We will wait here and suffer what rain and wind we must. Going elsewhere would force us to fight it and I am uninterested.”

He made an unenthused noise. “What are y’ interested in fightin’?”

She rose a brow as she pocketed her spyglass. “Nothing, I suppose. Did we not have this conversation already?”

“We did, after you came back from the Ferry all pissy.”

Blue bit the inside of her cheek. Coming through a trip from the Sea of the Damned was a lot like getting slammed against the side of a cliff during high tide, but describing it like that seemed inappropriate. Annoying, too. This rock was starting to feel slippery, somehow, and she turned, heading back down.

“Nevertheless, I have paperwork to tend to before the storm moves in and makes that an impossibility.”

“Wha- y’re headin’ back down already? With this view?”

She could hear Z scampering behind her. “As I said, I have—”

“How well’s that paperwork goin’ t’ stop a sword in yer side?” he shot with such agitation that she was somewhat surprised he hadn’t thrown her off the Blackwyche’s bowsprit.

Blue waited until she was on the slanted forecastle of the ruined ship to address that question. “It will keep me out of that situation in the first place,” she said. She was certain this had also been stated before.

“Not always.” Z made his way past her, walking with purpose. She watched him step into the grass, searching for something. He bent down and eventually returned with two sticks in hand.

“I am quite confident in my abilities.”

“I’m not.” He tossed a branch her way.

Catching the ramshackle sparring stick, Blue rose a brow. Did he really think this was a good idea?

“As I have said, I—”

“Avoid fights and do yer fancy paperwork. Uh huh.” Z paced about, feeling the weight of his new weapon as he did.

“It works well enough.”

“Didn’t work so well with me, now did it?”

“By my recollection, I bested you both times. Once I had you pinned down in the bottom of my ship, anyone in your situation — with the knowledge that I had at the time — should not have even considered doing what you did.”

He raised his arms in a haughty boast. “And yet here we are.”

“Yet here we are,” Blue sighed.

The both of them seemed well acquainted with their sticks now. She was sure that her shipmate expected the both of them to walk away from this with bruises. But…

“What is it you want out of this?”

“I want t’ see how many new tricks I can teach you,” Z responded.

“And the rules?”

“No rules.” He moved as though to lunge at her and she refused to budge.

“Well, that will just not do.” She ignored the exasperated noise he made. “If this were truly of no consequence, we could simply grab our cutlasses and dance the dance of death with those. Instead…”

“Fine: no pointy, slashy, stabby things.” Smart man.

That was sufficient and it was all Z said before truly lunging forward. The speed at which he moved his bulk was surprising, impressive, and Blue found that the jab at her upper arm stung noticeably. She wasn’t sure where the second swing landed, only that she brought her stick up to block the third. The both of them pull away, hopping backwards.

The dance was more clear now: fight. Though they did not hold bladed weapons, it did not dissuade Z’s aggression, and every swing from him came with great intent. With the ground slanted some, the Blackwyche on three sides and the open water on the fourth, Blue was only just able to side-step his attacks or block them. The latter became a less opportune choice when he began pressing into her guard, forcing her to disengage anyway.

Finally, Blue saw an opportunity to strike. Moving forward and slightly to his left, she expected Z to back away and block her attempt to whack him. She would have parried this and swung into another strike. Instead, Z twisted around to meet her and she lifted her arm to block his swing, but then he jumped. No matter which way she might have moved, the branch hit and she was left dumbfounded and with the start of a headache.

Blue leapt away. The situation had become annoying and she was sore. More so, she felt like she was receiving the brunt of whatever frustrations her shipmate had felt the last few days. It didn’t feel like this fight was doing anyone any actual good.

Before she could voice these thoughts, yield and spare the both of them energy and bruises, Z lifted his sparring stick over his head in a curious motion. She had seen other pirates do it before, seen what happened after they did this. Just as she realised that and rushed to figure out how the hell she was supposed to counter that, Blue needed another moment to understand that she was now staring up at the evening sky.

“Eh, that’s enough for now.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Pain made it difficult to quell her rage. “That’s enough?” she repeated as she sat up. One hand helped keep her like that while the other held her throbbing head. She could taste metal, too. “The hell was the point of that?”

Z made a noise she didn’t fully understand. “After seein’ how y’ fought when we met, I thought y’d… put up more of a fight?” He grinned sheepishly and recoiled when her scowl intensified. “You just… y’ kind of darted ‘round ev’rywhere on the ship and threw me down like yer life re— … like your life depended on it.” Realisation couldn’t have hit him harder if she keelhauled him on a galleon in the worst storm of her life.

Wordlessly, he bent down, taking her arm and pulling her up to her feet.

“I did ask about rules,” she reminded.

“Yeah. My bad.”

That was probably the closest she was getting to an apology. If it settled his conscious so he didn’t pester her throughout the whole storm, that was good enough. Blue was less tolerant of the sleeve he brought to her face, but when she jerked away and saw the blood, she stayed still.

“Always fight like your life depends on it. Just ‘cause the Ferry’s out and about nowadays doesn’t mean it’s a given. Doesn’t mean anyone y’ run across will even kill you if y’ lose a fight to ‘em. Death isn’t the worst thing t’ happen out here.”

Z paused to examine his sleeve. Even in the black fabric, blood was clearly visible purely due to the amount. He seemed to linger, staring at it, and Blue couldn’t blame him, her own mind was full of thoughts now. The Sea of the Damned must have complicated the way people behaved quite a lot. A pirate paradise, indeed.

“A fair point,” she finally said. Z looked at her with what she could only see as shock. “Perhaps we will try this again another day.”

With no resistance, she pulled away from her shipmate and they made their way back to the ship. No words were spoken or considered; plenty had been said. Blue did wonder if this sparring had come about from the deal they had made or something else, but she decided it was best not to ask.

Another thought had crossed Blue’s mind during the walk and she could not shake it. Her arms were deep in a clothing chest in the belly of the ship when she finally asked, “What do you fight for?”

Z stopped his rustling at the table. “What do you mean?”

“What do you fight for?” she repeated more sternly. For once, she wanted him to talk.

His apprehension was palatable and kept him quiet for a long while. A long enough time passed that Blue had gathered her hammock out of storage and brought it up to the mid-deck and was starting to prepare it to be hung.

“What are you gettin’ at, Blue?”

“Would it not have been easier to simply tell me to everything that you did?” she asked. “What was the point of spending all that energy, and with your leg like that, only to tell me that I should fight confidently? Surely you see how ridiculous that seems to me.”

Z looked much like a child who did not want to be punished. “I thought y’ weren’t goin’ t’ lecture me t’night?”

“Only about your leg.”

He scoffed and turned away from her.

Rather than press the matter, Blue focused on getting her hammock hung. Proper storage made this an easy task; in the fading light, the most difficulty she had was finding the eye bolts on either side of the mid-deck’s ceiling to hook it onto. The next order of business was food and blankets. She went back downstairs and threw a splashtail on the pan to heat while she fished for the correct blankets: something to curl up on, a makeshift pillow, a cover-up, and extra layers for when the wind picked up. She moved armfuls of fabric as needed.

On the mid-deck, Z hadn’t moved much, but he did at least watch her as she finished up with her hammock. “What’s that fer?”

“For me to sleep in, of course.”

His face scrunched up.

“It is cold here in the Wilds and the storm will double that. Did you think I would sleep on the canopy in the rain?”

“No.”

“Mhm. Did you think I was going to make you sleep up there?” she asked, tone slightly playful. That got an eye roll out of him, but he also seemed to see the humour. “That would be just as silly as sharing the bed with you.” He wasn’t laughing, but Blue thought that was funny. Two could play the teasing game.

The fish was becoming fragrant now, so Blue dipped back below deck to tend to it. A coconut was plucked from the barrel and cracked in half with the blunt side of her dagger, the water split evenly in the halves. When the fish was cool enough to touch, she cut it in half, lengthwise. When it was placed in front of him on the table, Z didn’t immediately accept it. Blue sat on the map table and wasn’t surprised to watch him eventually accept his rations, the allure of good food irresistible.

For a while, they ate in silence, ignoring each other. It was only when Z was mostly done picking at the meat of his coconut that he asked, “What do you mean, ‘what do I fight for’?”

Blue stared at him for a long moment. “Well, what do you fight for?” He looked like he was about to fling the coconut at her. “Besides the… thrill of a fight, besides protecting yourself, why do you pick up a blade? What… what induces such a response from you? Do you protect the weak from the cruel or are you the one they must be protected from? Do you fight in the name of those whose ideals you share and believe in? Or is that—”

“You, you… whoa, alright…” Z held his hands up, lowered them slowly. He needed to breathe. “That’s a lot to think about, don’t y’ think?”

“No.”

He made an exasperated noise.

“It is not necessary for you to answer, I am only curious. We can curl up in our separate corners until the storm passes and then make our way to Dagger Tooth before cutting east for Galleon’s Grave. Is that acceptable?”

He started to fight the idea, then stopped. Z was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, that works.”

Blue stared at him for a moment longer before turning her attention back to what remained of her dinner. This would be a very long night.

Chapter 8: Jagged Bluffs

Summary:

Dagger Tooth Outpost is home to the longest dock in the Sea of Thieves. It’s also home to the worst kitchen in all the Sea. Blue and Z manage to do more than wallow in agony there.

Notes:

Happy almost-Halloween! Be safe if you go out Trick-or-Treating or partying. c:

Unfortunately this part is not quite so spooky, though I still think it's neat. Bit of a shame we're not doing a Festival of the Damned in-game this year. And to think of how well the last one went…

A loud noise roused Z from his slumber. After a moment, he realised it was a splash, like that of a merfolk who was about to sing a song that wasn’t meant for him. After the incident at Old Boot, he wasn’t taking any risks and shot upright in bed. He nearly stumbled onto his single foot, then recalled that he had been forced to remove his pegleg. As he grabbed the walking stick beside him, he heard a pleased noise come from Blue.

Still cautious, Z grabbed his sword from his pile of belongings with his free hand and cautiously stepped around to the stairs. He climbed the few of them onto the mid-deck and stood there, peering over towards Blue. She was on the other side of the map table… fishing? He already knew that she did this but it was so strange to see, and during a storm, no less. The little thing she had been fighting with looked unlike any other fish he had seen before and yes, he decided, it did have a sword for a face. It was placed on a chain of hooks alongside two others and she cast her line out again. A fish showed interest very quickly.

“What are you doing?” Z immediately regretted not asking a more specific question.

“What does it look like?”

“I— yeah. What are y’ doin’ exactly ?”

Blue sighed. “I am catching stormfish.”

But why , he wanted to ask.

“There is another pole in the back beside the barrel of swords if you would like to help.”

Z refrained from responding to that. He eyed her up and down, considered how much she and the fish on the other end of the line were currently fighting against one another and decided that this sort of fishing was certainly not for him. If anything, he wondered if he was going to have to help keep Blue on the ship. He sat at the table and watched, wary.

The fish was finally reeled in and he was struck again by how pointy it was. “Does that thing have a sword for a face?”

Blue hesitated. “I suppose it does. Removal of the face-sword is advisable before consumption.”

Z was having a hard time believing that anyone would eat such a thing. It fought like hell and looked like a weapon — surely it wasn’t good eating. Lightning struck nearby and illuminated the area, including his concerned face. He could see that Blue was having a silent laugh at his expense. “Very funny.”

She only chuckled, baited her line, and cast it out once more. He couldn’t hear whatever she said over the thunder and rain. It was still cold and dark, too, making this little sloop a miserable place to be. Somehow, he was too miserable to sleep anymore, too tired and too rested all at once. He loathed to admit that his leg felt better, even to himself. Everything else was terrible right now.

The rain was letting up ever so slightly and they would have fresh fish to eat so Z decided a short while later that it wasn’t that bad. Pouting less, he turned his attention to Blue and considered asking her how long she had been up, if she thought they might be able to leave the island today. Instead, he sat there like a fish, mouth agape as he watched her fight with another fish. Stormfish, he decided, fought incredibly hard.

He couldn’t help himself now. “Do y’ need some help?”

“I have it.”

Blue’s feet against the sloped back wall of the sloop’s mid-deck made him doubt that.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure!”

There was a moment of silence between them as she gave an earnest yank on her fishing pole. A large fish came flying out of the water and Blue fell back against the map table. Z briefly felt like he was in danger until his shipmate bounced back onto her feet and pressed one down on the nose of this stormfish.

“That thing is huge.”

“Uh huh. Huh. Say, how few women say that to you?”

“N-no, Blue, that fish’s bigger than you are.”

“… oh.”

He realised a moment later when she seemed to ignore him that she had tried to make a joke. Z just couldn’t focus on that, though. The stormfish was genuinely larger than she was, maybe even him, and it was still alive, flailing. It also emitted a soft, gentle light.

“Well,” Blue started. She scrunched her face up and then yelped when the fish hit her with its tail. Then: “Never mind. Get me a sword to kill this with.”

Z held up his own cutlass before making his way over to her. “Do I just…?” He motioned to the general location where he thought the stormfish’s throat might be. Blue nodded. “Alright then.”

*

“Ah shee whya do dis noa.”

Blue gave him a look, one of those looks someone had when they were trying to be stern and not laugh. “Once more without all—” she gestured to him in general “—without all of that in your mouth.”

Z swallowed the mouthful of stormfish he had, sipped his grog, and spoke again. “I see why y’ fish now. These things are delicious!”

“A pleasant side effect.”

“A what now?” The words flew from his mouth. He chewed a piece of fish more and asked, “Y’ don’t fish jus’ fer this?”

“Among other things…” Blue left her scraps for him and stepped away, heading downstairs.

That just wouldn’t do. Z was in too good of a mood to just sit up here at the table and not do anything, especially not after that weird little conversation. He was about to follow her down to the lowest deck when she passed by him, heading to the opening of the mid-deck where the largest fish was hung just outside the hold. He stood beside her as she inspected it.

“So what’s yer plan for cleanin’ this one up?” he inquired, beginning to draw his sword in anticipation. He about screamed when Blue pointed her dagger at him.

“This one sells.”

“Oh. Alright. Sells?”

“Yes.” With that settled, Blue apparently finished her inspection and began working to clean it.

Z stood there for a very long moment, waiting to see if his shipmate would ask for help or… or something. When she made no move to speak to him anymore, he stepped out to the main-deck and took in the sights.

All that Z could complain about at this point was the wind and waves being a little rougher than usual. They were already quite rough from the nature of the Wilds, so their current condition was just obnoxious. No one liked the Wilds, and those that said they did were liars. The lingering edges of the storm acted like a veil, fighting against the morning sun’s light, making the place all the more dreary.

“Hey Blue!” he called. When she grunted out a noise of acknowledgement, he followed up: “When y’re done there, can we get goin’ again?” He got another noise of confirmation and waited eagerly.

*

It was nice to be moving again, nice to be on his feet, nice for his leg to not hurt constantly. Excitement rattled through Z’s figure every so often as they approached Dagger Tooth Outpost. After being caught in that storm, he found himself eager to visit an outpost, to sit somewhere drier than the ship. Blue seemed more cheery, too, though somehow he felt like it was for different reasons. Even the three ships that sat around the outpost did not dissuade their mood.

“Do y’ plan t’ get anythin’ t’ eat while we’re here?” he asked as they were tying the sloop up to the main dock.

“I bought last time,” she quickly said.

He rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine.”

“It is only fair,” she said. “Now, the real question you should be asking is if you will buy yourself a room for the night.”

“Huh.” That was a good question, he supposed. He wanted to ask if she would, too, if they would share, but she always slept on the sloop’s canopy . There was no point in trying to tease her. “I guess not with the bed here.” Not that he would openly admit to having grown fond of it.

“Fair. Then we will eat, I will sell my fish to the kitchen, linger and loiter until it is time to sleep and depart tomorrow morn?” she suggested.

“Sounds like a plan to me. Y’ got plenty’a those little stormfish to nibble on if this early supper don’t cut it for me.” He laughed when she rolled her eyes at him.

“Mind that you do not choke on the nose,” she said. He had no idea if that was supposed to be a tease or threat.

Blue left him on the dock to consider that while she disappeared back downstairs. When she reappeared, she had brushed her hair back and dressed up a little nicer, just like when he had first ran into her. Most prominent was the addition of a pair of bows: one to keep her hair back, the other placed upon her hip; they demanded attention.

“D0 y’ think that’s a good idea to wear here?” he finally got out when he caught up halfway down the pier.

“What do you mean?” Blue asked. He stammered some and she rose a brow at him. Nothing meaningful was coming out of his mouth so she continued: “We are here to mingle, are we not? I should like to make a good first impression on those that are here. Your lack of colours is your own choice. You could fix your collar at least.” She pointed this out literally.

Z sighed and did so. “Alright, but don’t start any trouble. Got it?”

“The same goes for you.”

Somehow, he felt called out.

There was a small group of pirates near the bay. They were clearly drunk and reeked of grog, merrily singing about nothing in particular with each other. They gave the duo a hearty wave in greeting that Blue returned with a more polite one. Z also waved back, far more uncertain; there should be more people here based on the number and type of ships docked. He followed his shipmate into the tavern.

Two crews worth of pirates had taken up a third of the tavern for themselves. There were now too many pirates here for the number of ships and that unnerved Z greatly. It was also unnerving that Blue greeted them first. She was loud and cheery, so unlike how he had come to expect her to be. He forced himself to smile as he stepped past the group with her and took a seat in a corner. He sat beside her so that he, too, could keep an eye on the others they shared the room with.

Keeping an upbeat demeanour was tiring. Z leaned towards her and asked lowly, “Puttin’ on a show, are ya?”

She responded similarly, if shortly. “Do you not?”

“Not like that. They would’ve ignored us if y’ hadn’t been so loud.”

“That is their choice and yours and I made mine.”

Z suppressed a sigh. This was one of those things that they weren’t going to agree on and he wasn’t about to waste time trying to find an understanding. He was happy to request fresh meat — the kind with legs — when someone from the kitchen came out to greet them. Blue asked for whatever was fresh, though did specify that she wanted more than just meat. They gave the kid a few gold coins before he walked away.

The two of them were quiet while they waited for their food. Z placed his elbows on the table and brought his hands together, fingers interlocked, and rested his chin on his hands. Blue sat still for a moment longer until she wrapped her arm around his and leaned close before he could speak.

“Complain later if it bothers you so. For now, fit in .”

“Y’ could’ve jus’ asked.”

She ignored that. “A pair of fair dressed people walk in together, sit alongside one another… Look the part.”

Z couldn’t help a smirk. “Fair dressed, huh?”

“Do not let it get to your head; all-black clothing looks good on people of all sorts.”

He snorted at that one. “Uh huh.”

They both quieted as another pirate sauntered over and sat across from them. He was a large man, larger than Z, and unafraid of showing off his dark skin, covered in gold and scars and all other manner of blemishes. Alcohol wafted from his rigid being. “What brings you two t’ the finest outpost in all the Sea o’ Thieves?” He spoke slowly, fighting the drink.

Z and he shared a chuckle. Blue answered his question. “Respite from the storm. We were heading through the area and were caught unawares by it. We were lucky to be able to stop at — what was it? Thank you — at Shipwreck and weather the worst of it. It still soaked us thoroughly and we are in dire need of a hot meal and calm waters.”

The pirate gave a hearty laugh.

“You ever been in a sloop that was rammed by a gally flyin’ in a crosswind? It was kinda like that,” Z added in addition to having reminded his shipmate of the name of the island they stopped at.

The other pirate nearly fell off his seat he was laughing so hard. The duo joined him in their own ways.

“And what has brought all of you here?” Blue inquired.

“Eh, the same thing for the brig crew. They almost capsized by their tellin’. My brother and I run a sloop together with our mates and came here t’ wait the storm out ahead of it. I think with it passed now, this place’ll be empty soon come tomorrow morn.”

“I suspect the same.”

The boy who had greeted them stepped out from the kitchen once more, plates in hand. When everyone at the table saw this, their acquaintance stood.

“I’ll be taking my leave now. My mates will be lonely without me, after all.”

“Of course.” Blue dipped her head politely to him before he turned to rejoin the other pirates.

As the pair were given their food, Blue made short, polite conversation with the boy. Z couldn’t be bothered to listen closely, watching the pirates they shared the building with. When they began to eat in silence, he wasn’t sure how to feel about the situation.

“What do you think about him?” he asked.

“I think he was honest with us.” He must have shown that he didn’t agree with Blue’s words. “There is nothing to be gained from lying to us, nor is a man that drunk capable of doing so.”

Blue paused for a moment and they watched the boisterous group. She continued, pointing out: “In reality, Razzle is part of the brigantine’s crew. A captain. He won it in a game of Liar’s Dice and now everyone refuses to play against him. Right now, he is leader of this group thanks to his charisma and honeyed words towards the women. He is sweet on that sloop lady, but she laughs and smiles too much. She is not honestly interested in him. He did not lie to us, only bent the truth, perhaps unintentionally. He is so drunk I believe he told us what he normally tells everyone.”

“Razzle? What? How did you figure all that out?”

“I listened, and I watched.” Z blinked at her. Blue smiled. “You can learn quite a lot from people if you do not openly present yourself to be more important than them.”

“ Hey …”

“Most people are bad actors and cannot pretend to be polite. Even more are not clever enough to know when someone is doing just that. Mm.”

Well, that was just rude. Then again, Blue was a rude person. Something about her saying it out loud seemed to make it so much worse.

“And yet, even though you know that I am doing just that, you still have this dumbstruck look all over your face.” Blue took this opportunity to steal a piece of ham from his plate. He simply rose a brow. “It would seem that I have yet to fully figure you out.”

“Maybe I’m too clever fer you,” he teased. He stole a piece of meat from her plate — maybe it was pork at one point — and settled in to finish his meal. The potato on his plate was cut in half with the side of his fork so he could dig at the soft inside. Halfway through, he felt Blue shift on his arm.

“Is cleverness your excuse for calling Galleon’s Grave ‘the Shores’?”

He almost choked. “Say wha’ now?”

“Is there a reason for you to call Galleon’s Grave Outpost by ‘the Shores’? I would think that might mean the Shores of Plenty. Everyone has heard of the Shores of Gold, but I hardly think th—”

He shook his head, flabbergasted. “Whoa, whoa!” Z was a little louder than he had realised. The other crews were dissuaded from investigating with a laugh that wasn’t entirely forced out. He said again, quieter, “ Whoa . What?”

“Not so clever, I think,” Blue commented as she inspected a piece of food stuck to her fork. Despite her scrutiny, she ate it. He thought better of responding further to her comment as she picked at their plates.

“At Ancient Spire, I asked where you were heading. You told me Galleon’s Grave. Before we left, you said you wanted to get yourself something nice before we left ‘for the Shores’. Or do you not remember this? I have had quite a lot of time to think about it.”

“ Fine .” It was hard to not yell, but the last thing he wanted to do was make a scene. “I’m s’pose to meet up with a buncha friends at Sanctuary.”

He wished that Blue would yell and make a scene. Frustratingly, all she did was stare at him, make a curious noise, and then eat another bite. It felt like they sat there for an eternity while she picked at her plate. Finally, he pulled his arm away from hers and turned in his seat, staring at her.

“That’s it? Just—” He mimicked the noise she had made.

“Yes.” She looked unimpressed with him. “I have had quite a lot of time to consider your words,” she repeated. “I could not fathom what you might have meant by calling Galleon’s Grave by such a nickname. The alternative was that you were lying and your tongue slipped.” She shrugged. “Whichever it was, I knew I would find out eventually.”

“And you just waited?”

She rose a brow. “Why not? It is not as though you could kill me for it.”

Z was taken aback by that. He wanted to say something, needed to say something, but what? What was he supposed to say to that? There were times when pirates would throw themselves at the Ferryman and his ship or otherwise find themselves visiting the Sea of the Damned frequently, but that statement was so…

“I am confident that there is nothing you could do to me that would be a surprise now. You have imparted information so valuable that I no longer have any reason to fear you.”

“How could you say that?” he shot.

Blue turned slightly towards him. “Magic is alive and well in this place. It is easy to see this. Poisons and illnesses go away more quickly than usual, our wounds heal much faster — the list goes on. There is no threat that you could make that would change my mind. And should you do so, you would only prove yourself to be nothing more than a common criminal like every other pirate who tries to claim that they are more than that. It makes no difference to me.”

He wanted to ask Why , but something about how certain she was in herself made Z doubt his ability to handle the answer she would give him. Her lack of self-preservation was something he had never seen in someone that wasn’t blood lusted in the midst of a battle.

“Have you any more redundant questions?”

He sighed. “No— uh, what now?”

“We divert our course to Sanctuary Outpost, of course. That was the deal, was it not? Knowledge in exchange for you getting passage to your destination?”

“That… was the deal…”

“I admit, I should leave you here. Perhaps kill you and let your sort things out yourself. Anything else. But the knowledge you have given me is valuable enough that I will overlook it for now.”

Relief flooded his body, but adrenaline replaced a moment later. He interjected: “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t trust you.”

“Didn’t, or don’t?”

He hated that. “I think I trust you enough.” She tried to speak and he put a hand up to silence her just like she would. “I trust you enough t’ tell y’ this now, and t’ introduce y’ t’ those I know I fully trust. Y’ve been upfront with me… so I guess y’re right: what do y’ gain from lyin’ t’ me and what do I gain from lyin’ to you?” He shrugged.

“Very good,” Blue said far too quickly for his liking, far too much as though she had expected him to come to that conclusion. “We are in agreement that we now trust each other then?”

He nodded. She nodded back and extended a hand to him. They shook on it and they were quiet for the rest of the time they spent in the tavern. Z couldn’t quite figure out what he felt like had changed between them.

*

The rest of the night had been quiet and fairly awkward. The duo loitered about the tavern for only a little while longer, and when they did go back to the ship, it was only when they exchanged ‘good nights’ that they said anything to each other. Despite their agreement, there was an uneasy air between them.

Morning seemed to come quickly. As this had been the first good sleep he had gotten since the storm and his leg healing, Z could have stayed there forever. The sound of a voice he barely recognised willed him out of bed.

“And he snores! That, the stars, the warm morning sun — why would I not be out here?” At least Blue sounded cheery enough. The sight of Razzle on the dock made him wonder if she genuinely was.

“Good morning! I was just tellin’ your friend here that my crew was heading out to Golden Sands. We’re trading out our brig for a gally over there.”

There was no brig to be seen — or any sloops for that matter — so he believed him. “Nice. Flat trade or is coin involved?”

“A straight trade on our end. Our fourth is buying his way in. Ah, the name is Razzle by the way,” he said with a polite little bow.

Z nodded back. “Z. That’s not a bad trade.”

“That’s what I said!” He laughed, then held his head. “Ah, but I should be goin’. My crew is likely to run our ship into that giant rock if I don’t make ‘em steer clear of it.”

“Of course,” Blue said.

He gave her a two-fingered salute. “If you ever see our flag, come say hello!” With that, he unsheathed his cutlass and lifted it above his head, flinging himself off the opposite side of the dock. With a playful yell, he let the merfolk that was waiting take him into the water.

The two of them stared at the ripple in the water as it dissipated and a little while longer before turning to each other.

“About time you woke up,” Blue said.

Z gave her an annoyed look. “What was that all about?”

“Our friend from last night wanted to take a few minutes to say goodbye before departing.”

“Mm.” Z had no strong opinion on that. “Did you not have a chance to wake me?”

“I did not. And when I became certain that he was friendly, he refused to let me. Besides, it would haven been impolite, after all.”

Z blinked, stunned. “What—”

“You do not talk to people very much, do you?”

He was vaguely aware of his hands on his hips. “Well, does it matter what I say? Or are y’ goin’ to jus’ decide on yer own?”

“I trust you to be honest about such an inconsequential question.”

“Then I talk to people quite a lot.”

It looked as though there was a rebuttal on the tip of her tongue. The both of them knew exactly what he meant, but thankfully Blue didn’t seem to want to push the subject. He was glad for that.

“Now then, voyage plan.” He motioned for her to follow him and made his way to the map table. Once there he pointed out Dagger Tooth Outpost, then the next closest island following their new route: Hidden Spring Keep.

“This is another skeletal stronghold. But it’s the next island over.” He looked up from the table and scanned the sky. “It should be fine.”

“The last one was.” Her words betrayed her expression.

He clarified himself: “No weird clouds. We’ll be fine.”

“Fine.”

“Headin’ west will take us there. The wind is…” He poked his head out from under the canopy to look at the flag. The wind was strong, but not a perfect beam reach. “What’s that word? Serv…”

“Serviceable. We will make good time if we leave very soon and eat as we sail.”

“Good idea. Get one of those fish goin’ and I’ll get the ship goin’?” he suggested.

Blue wrinkled her nose. “Very well. Buy a fresh keg of water before you do, would you?”

“Fine, but I’m gettin’ more grog, too,” he complained as he watched her disappear to the lowest deck. Blue said nothing and he took that to mean that she had no objections.

The walk to the tavern felt long. It was a long walk — this was Dagger Tooth, after all. Z hadn’t slept late, yet all of the crews from last night were already gone. They had probably left in the early hours of the morning, he realised, and found that amusing. Leave it to the Sea of Thieves for bands of pirates to sail off drunk as hell and keep perpetuating those sorts of stories.

All things considered, the barkeep was quick to get Z the things he asked for. The fact that she could even stand was astounding. He made no comments on this, only watched with suppressed astonishment as she manoeuvred about in the back of the room. It was equally impressive that she managed to lift the kegs and carry them over to the counter in one go.

The boy from the night before was missing. Z found that somewhat curious. He didn’t ask about it; time was on his mind. As he walked down the longest pier in all of the Sea of Thieves, however, he counted the pirates they had seen and realised that the boy had not been a worker there, but a pirate who had invited himself into the kitchen. That wasn’t the first time something like that had happened in his presence and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“I’m baaaack. We can go now,” Z called in a sing-song tone. He heard Blue shifting downstairs and caught the scent of fish cooking — or at least reheating — drifting up the stairs. That seemed a good enough cue to get the ship moving.

When she emerged, Dagger Tooth Outpost was behind them and rapidly becoming smaller and smaller on the horizon. Half of a splashtail was held out for him to take and he wolfed it down graciously. He would now always be a little disappointed when it wasn’t a stormfish, though.

Blue, dressed nicely as always, had ducked back downstairs. When she came back up, she held a coconut that had been cracked open, but the inside wasn’t right. The inside was a solid sphere instead of being hollow and full of delightful coconut milk. “Do you think we will make it to Hidden Spring before nightfall?”

“Uh, maybe. If anything, not long after.” The coconut was distracting… “What the hell’s with that?”

“The…?” She sighed and gestured to the mass in the centre. When he nodded, she rose a brow. Her dagger, now simply placed on the hip opposite her sword instead of being hidden, was drawn. A chunk was cut off and offered to him. “Eat.”

He hesitated for a moment and then took it, hanging onto the ship’s wheel as though his life depended on it. “Uh, what is—” Blue’s wrist twisted slightly in his direction “—Y’ know what, never mind.”

Hesitantly, Z took a bite of the weird coconut thing. It was softer than the usual flesh of one, but it was also much sweeter. It was one of the best things he’d ever tasted. “What the hell is this?” He had to fight the urge to shove the rest of it down his throat.

“Old coconuts that fall down on their own are like this,” Blue said casually. “Most of the pirates here are too impatient to wait for them to be like this and only know coconut water. That is good, too, but as you are discovering…”

“This is way better!”

“Mhm.”

Blue seemed quite amused by this, enough so that she stayed on the deck with him all morning. Neither of them said anything about her slowly feeding him the entire coconut heart. Both of them were in better spirits this morning after their talk and found each other’s company to be quite agreeable.

Chapter 9: Hidden Spring Keep

Summary:

Hidden Spring Keep is the next stop, and the last before Sanctuary Outpost. It’s an excellent place to make sure they are presentable before being in (somewhat) polite company, though Blue nor Z enjoy this rest-stop.

Shenanigans ensue.

Notes:

I’m posting this a little earlier in the day than usual since I’m not feeling great. Nothing major, just got a couple seasonal vaccines so I’m slightly feverish and would like to go do something chill before I forget about this.

The pair found themselves at an uncharted island to the southeast of Hidden Spring Keep. The wind had not been as agreeable as they had hoped for in their travels to the fortress and they would instead spend the night here. It seemed as though the wind had taunted them all day, constantly shifting just out of the sail’s reach. Though breakfast and their other interactions had been pleasant and polite, they had spoken little to one another throughout the day, only doing so to trade-off helm duty. Combined negligence in watching the wind and heading had brought them to the unmarked island at the K-9 coordinate to spend the night.

There was little on the island of K-9. Some signs of life did exist: an old hammock or two, some barrels here and there, a shipwreck in the middle of the island that was mocked by a rowboat, but that was about it. Though he had not said it, Blue knew that her shipmate was scrutinising her exploration of the island. She knew that he had likely been here many times before, yet she had not. She had never had any reason to visit this place; even still there were none.

The two discussed the island when they ate dinner. As far as Z knew, there had never been anything of interest at this island, confirming Blue’s suspicions. It was a lovely island that no one had yet to find any use to. Its location was a curse and a boon, easily accessed as it was nestled in the middle of the Sea of Thieves, but also a number of skeleton fortresses, and thus their ships. Taking and holding such an island would require many resources.

The two gave the matter little more discussion the rest of that night. When morning came, they set out once again, a little more realistic about how the wind and waves were treating them. Hidden Spring Keep was well within their reach today. As they got closer, there was one thing Blue couldn’t help being concerned about.

“May I ask you something?”

Z lifted his head from his position at the base of the bowsprit where he was laid out. “What?”

“How can you be so certain that a fortress will be free of hostiles before you even get there?”

“Check the sky out. It’s perfectly clear all ‘round us as far as y’ can see now besides that storm in the Wilds. Ain’t nothin’ goin’ on ‘round here.”

Blue made a point to take his words seriously, scanning the horizon around them. He was right: the sky was clear with only a few stray clouds. But… “And what exactly does that mean?”

“It means there’s no one up t’ no good. Skellies can’t help showin’ off where they are whenever they’ve… eh, what’s a word? Grouped up?”

“Congregated.”

“Sure.”

“To group up in large numbers. They do that.”

“They do.”

“So your point is that one can simply look up and see whether a fortress will be occupied, whether a patch of great open sea is safe of a fleet lurking below or not…”

“Yes.”

“Fair.”

Z let his head rest back down on the bowsprit. “Any more questions?”

“None.”

Blue’s curiosity was satiated for the moment. It still only did so much to quell the anxiety she felt about knowingly heading towards a skeleton fortress, however. She took them in close.

The southeastern end of the island was at sea level. There were plenty of fortifications to protect the beach from attacks, including walls, strategically placed punji sticks, and two turret towers in the south shallow waters. The area was complete with a quaint dock that was serviceable for a ship with a small draft like the sloop; a galleon’s crew would have to get creative. The back of the island was a mess with great boulders that sharply raised its level. From the middle of the island, moving water could be heard and freshwater smelled.

Blue decided that, had this not been a known skeleton fortress she probably would have liked this place. Perhaps she liked it anyway.

“There is literally a spring here?”

“Uh huh.”

“I suppose it was a waste to have you buy a keg of water then.”

“Eh, not really. Rainwater tastes better anyway.”

Z had yet to move. They had traded the cold of the Wilds for the warmth of the Shores of Plenty and in his all-black clothing, that was impressive.

“Uh, can I help you?”

Blue had stepped over to inspect him more closely. “You are going to look ridiculous when you shave that beard off.”

“Oh.” He brought a hand to his chin.

Blue wasn’t wrong about that no matter how she looked at it. It was terribly messy, he had been laying in the sun all morning, and she had grown used to his face being a mess. Still, what he had sported the day they met had been very presentable…

Finally, he sat up. “Y’ got a razor and mirror? Or at least a razor I can use?”

“I have a particularly sharp knife. I might have a silver spoon that you can shine sufficiently into a mirror if you really need it.”

“I can do without the mirror…” Z had an incredulous look on his face, the one that she had grown to hate the accompanying words to. She was very thankful when all he did was stand.

“Excellent. Would you prefer to manage your face before or after bathing?”

He rolled his eyes. “After, I guess. We can bathe and then do whatever until… uh?”

He must have noticed that she had turned her back to him. Blue turned her head and waved him off. “I will take my turn after you. I would like to write first, anyhow.”

She didn’t bother to wait to see his pouting before turning her attention back to the west horizon. She knew where Sanctuary Outpost was from here, though it was far and perhaps only visible to her mental eye. Slightly south was a cluster of giant rocks that blocked her view of anything useful; if any trouble would come to them, it would be from there. It was something of a similar story to the southeast: rocks were plentiful, though that cluster was not quite so tight.

“Alright, you know what?” Z had come back up to the deck with such a presence that she couldn’t help turning to see what his problem was. “Y’ might be a prude, but I’m not. If y’ want to write yer fancy paperwork, do it later by lantern light. Get somethin’ useful done with the sun in the sky.”

Blue’s only choice was to catch the laundry board and armful of clothes that were thrown at her. She was more than a little surprised by this. Judging by the thud on the dock, Z had jumped over and was heading onto the island. Whatever he might have taken with him, she had not seen through everything in her arms. She should… probably just get this over with instead of fighting with him, she figured. That would be easiest for both of them.

With a great sigh, Blue kicked her boots off by the table. She grabbed a chunk of soap — there would be no excuses for her to need to be anywhere near Z right now — and glanced at what she may or may not have already in her grasp that needed cleaning. He wasn’t wrong: this was a better use of the daylight than anything that she wanted to do right now, but she would only begrudgingly acknowledge this.

Z had already made himself comfortable within the spring, clothes tossed aside with little care as he sat in the shallow water, scrubbing at his skin. No, no he did not care, annoyingly so. Blue took up position on a rock on the other side of the water, a tiny one that was shielded by a much larger boulder right beside it. She would focus on cleaning the clothes she had been tasked with, which were primarily hers. As soon as she had gotten comfortable, Z had taken to swimming about the little pond.

He was very annoying, she decided. He was especially annoying when she decided that he was, albeit subtly, trying to get her attention.

Across from them, movement behind a turret on the island caught her attention. Movement? Or was it just a shadow of a palm leaf in the breeze? Up the hill, it was hard to tell.

“Oi, what are you starin’ at? I’m over here.”

Blue now realised that she had been staring very hard at that location and ignored something else he said. She relaxed, slowly letting her gaze drift to Z, complete with a slight glare. They had already had this conversation, and that one, too.

“There is nothing of note here but old supplies? Just like the last fort?”

He rose a brow. “Yeah.”

“Mm.” Blue dipped her chin back down and went back to cleaning.

Z made a small noise back at her, one she took to be acknowledgement as he said nothing more. For someone who had spoken lowly of others peacocking about, he sure was doing a lot of it now, swimming about as he was. He never came very close, though, and for that reason alone she wasn’t sure what exactly he was trying to do. She focused on cleaning.

“If y’re worried about skellies—”

“I am not,” she said, cutting him off immediately. She didn’t bother glaring at him, too busy applying soap to a particularly stubborn blotch. “You said before it is very clear when these forts are and are not inhabited. The sailors here avoid them anyway because they are spineless blaggards who have more brawn than sense in their heads.” That shirt finally looked clean to her liking. She set it aside and finally looked up at Z. “Is that sufficient?”

He somehow looked offended and ashamed at the same time. “Jesus, fine.”

“There is nothing here but the gulls and rotting fruit. There are no skellies — we would see their ships come and go, or be nearby at least. Anyone without a ship would certainly not be dumb enough to make camp on one of these islands.”

“Uh…”

Blue sighed. “Right, I am talking about pirates. Shall I fetch my musket?”

“No, I just think y’re being jumpy’s all. Look, if—”

“Being jumpy is what has kept me alive, kept me alive in a world where I thought I could draw my last breath at any moment. Forgive me if I am a little skittish.”

“Shit, woman, y’ done?” They glared at each other, but Blue refrained from speaking. “I was goin’ t’ say that if y’ wanted t’ head back t’ the ship t’ go ahead. I didn’t know you were goin’ t’ be so… so… so.. whatever this is if I made you come out here. If y’ want t’ head back and do yer fancy paperwork, go ahead.”

“I simply prefer to be alone.”

He looked frustrated but said no more, swimming back to his rock. Perhaps all he had been doing was enjoying the water. Now he was drying off, his mood soured. Blue, however, had not forgotten their earlier conversation.

It was only when she stood just before him that Z seemed to realise that yes, she had come over to him. He paused in drying his face off, letting the towel rest over his shoulders and down his arms like a wet blanket. It was her hand he stared at.

“What do you…”

“It is the smallest and the sharpest blade I have,” she said, examining her dagger more closely. “Well, perhaps we ought to compare your sword, but that would be unwieldy for such a task.”

“… right.” He moved slightly as though he expected her to hand it over to him. “So are you goin’ t’ let me have it or not?”

“Are you used to the way it is shaped? Its curves and sharpness?”

His eyes narrowed and she closed the distance between them, both knowing and hating how this was about to go.

“I thought I might let you enjoy your bath before—”

“Before y’ skin me like a pig?”

“Yes, something like that,” she chuckled. She placed a finger on the underside of his chin, encouraging him to look up proper.

“It’s my turn to kick you if y’ cut me.”

“I make no promises.”

Without waiting for a response, Blue brought the blade’s edge to his skin. He was anxious and that would make this work more difficult. All she needed was for him to stay still; she pressed his skin flat when needed rather than ask him to do anything to help. She worked from the outside in so that she could worry about his beard’s original shape later.

“Relax. What am I going to do, send you to the Ferry ?”

It was only when he was sure that she wouldn’t cut more that he made a small mocking noise at her. Blue rolled her eyes. After rinsing the dagger clean, she once again placed a finger under his chin. “Chin up.”

Cleaning up his neck was an uneasy task for the both of them. It took the longest. And the closer she got to his mouth, the more care Blue took to see what hair was too long and needed to be saved. Judging by that and her memory, it was all around the chin.

“Right, this is supposed to be like that, yeah?” she asked, pointing out the longest hair on the tip of his chin.

“Right.”

There was a patch above it, too. “And this?”

“Yeah.”

She made a noise of affirmation and finally cleaned up around his mouth. Since she had first started, Z finally relaxed; she held his chin steady to keep his head still, just in case. Both of them had made good on their threats before and she was not interested in being kicked for something that was not her fault.

“Much too long…” The beard that was supposed to be there had become quite unruly, at least in her eyes. If Blue had to guess, it was because he was too lazy to regularly trim it. She cut it a little straighter, a little shorter, than was necessary. That his facial hair had been groomed in any manner in the first place was somewhat surprising to her. She supposed it was one thing that most men had in common, the one thing about themselves they were vain about…

“That looks better.” Sharply trimmed, his well-groomed beard still called attention to itself without being a mess now. She finished cleaning up around his mouth — he was twitchy about his upper lip being touched — and decided that he looked very presentable now. Dagger Tooth had been full of the ruffian looking sorts, what with everyone taking refuge from the storm, and he had been no different. That would not be the case at Sanctuary.

“My face kinda burns now.”

“Rinse your face with water. I am certain I can find aloe on this island if it persists.” She gave his cheek a small pat before stepping away from him, wiping her blade clean and dry before putting it away. There was plenty of the island that was yet to be explored, and what was the view from the top like? Blue needed to investigate that.

A well-worn path led to the island’s peak from either side of the water; she chose the western path. Walls and more punji sticks lined the trail and eventually a turret roost was to be found on each side. Curiously, there was no cannon on this side, but there was an abandoned ammunition box that she made a mental note of. Just a little further up the hill was the main structure that every fortress had. She spared a glance at the open vault before heading up.

Once she found the highest point she could walk up to, Blue began to climb. The building was probably never in great condition, sturdy, but ramshackle at best. That made it perfect for scaling up.

At the very top, there was a fairly flat roof with a… chair of sorts. She decided it was best to not sit on it and ignored it. The view wasn’t bad. It was no Old Boot, but it was better than what the crow’s nest of the sloop had to offer. There was nothing of interest to spot now but Blue knew what she could see here if need be. She had also spotted a few aloe plants and made note of their location if they were needed.

“Well? Still burning?” she inquired after coming back down to the pond.

Z, now fully dry and dressed, made a noise. “A bit. I’ll live.”

“Of course you will.”

Blue stepped back over to her rock to work on the laundry as it did need finishing still, expecting that they were done speaking. Z, on the other hand, looked a little lost.

“Y’ want me to take over that?”

She could strike him. He was too far for that. However… she started to get her grip ready. “You know, generally I do not like to throw my dagger, but—”

“Alright, fine! Fine, I’m going.” His feet quietly took him back to the ship.

Blue smiled to herself and enjoyed the quiet.

*

The Shores of Plenty was warm. On a warmer day like this that was just slightly uncomfortable, Blue appreciated the pond all the more. In fact, as she ran the towel through her hair, she decided that this was her favourite island because of it. She had not visited the whole of the Sea of Thieves, but of all the islands that she had, this was the best one. Had it not been a fort-island, it—

A rat ran by.

Blue stared at the rodent as it scurried by. That seemed… odd and she didn’t know what to make of it, only knew that she didn’t like it. Done with her bath, she pulled her clean pant legs up to her knees and made her way back to the dock. The sand stuck to her feet so she rinsed them in the seawater before climbing aboard the sloop and heading downstairs.

Laid on the bed, Z had propped himself up on his side, looking quite uncomfortable. Whether he had been like that the whole time or only just moved into that position when he heard her, she didn’t bother to wonder, only fished a hairbrush out of a chest at the very front of the ship’s hold.

“Y’re back early.”

“Am I?” She shook her head. “No matter. I did not feel like having my toes bitten off by rats.”

“Rats?”

“Rats.”

She paused in freeing her hair of tangles to finally look at him properly. He seemed confused.

“I am finished out there anyway. Unless you have procured more laundry somehow?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Do y’ want some help with that?”

Blue paused mid-wince in her brushing to stare at him. He just wouldn’t keep his mouth shut. This time she couldn’t quite find it in herself to tell him off.

“Fine. Here.” She handed the brush to him and sat with her back facing him. With Z occupied, she could thoroughly dry her feet off and get a pair of good boots on.

“I thought you were…?”

“I will scavenge for supplies while there is still daylight after I put on shoes that are good for stepping on rats,” she explained.

Z went quiet, focusing on brushing for a long moment. Then; “Alrighty then. … Is this supposed to be straight or…?”

She wanted to shake him. Had he never seen wavy hair before? “Just untangle it.”

He made a noise. Blue ignored it and went about lacing her boots up. A task such as his might have been easier had he not insisted on wearing gloves, strands of hair getting caught on the fabric. One boot was done and she began working on the other.

“You would have an easier time at it if you would take your gloves off.”

“I’m good.”

She paused and considered scolding him. It was not worth the effort.

“Then are you about done?”

“I think so.”

Close enough, she decided. She finished lacing her boot and gave him a gentle nudge with her elbow. “Good. I will finish later.” She took the brush from him and stood, feeling the weight of her newly added boots. Everything felt good as she made her way to the table, setting the brush down and then heading up to the main-deck to scan the horizon. The sound of Z’s footsteps behind her caught her attention.

“I’ll help.”

Blue found no issue in this; he had been incapacitated at the last fort so this would be an interesting exercise. “Very well.” She could teach him how to find coconuts worth harvesting.

The two made their way through the island, taking separate paths up to the peak. Blue found that there was a cannon on the opposite turret to the one she had checked earlier. As they went, they pocketed as many planks and cannon shots as they were comfortable carrying — they were in no hurry — and plucked the best fruits they found. Between them, they had picked up five pineapples; Z seemed especially talented at finding those. Blue gave him the one she had found to hold onto.

One tree on the island had coconuts on it. Only one large coconut lay on the ground beside it, the rest still small and bunched together in the tree. She pointed this out and picked the fallen one up.

“We will check this when we get back to the ship. It may have a heart to it, or it may have simply fallen early.”

“Fallen coconuts are the good ones?”

“I did say that your ilk were too impatient for them.”

He made a face.

“The others… hm.” The fruit on the tree seemed quite young. “Hold this.”

Blue haphazardly shoved the coconut into his arms, making him yelp, then she started to climb. There was a dip about halfway up that made climbing the tree all that much easier. At this point, she expected that Z might say something, but he stayed quiet. Perhaps he was too curious to speak. Perhaps he only offered aid when he was bored. It could have been any number of things.

Interlocking her ankles, Blue inched her way to the cluster of fruit. “Do you see how much smaller these are compared to that one?”

“No.”

She cut one loose.

“… yes.”

She cut two more loose and decided that would be good. Gripping the tree trunk, she let her legs swing off it, swung her body down, then finally let go and fell in an organised manner the rest of the way. It stung horribly and she staggered as she stood upright. In hindsight, it had been too far to drop, but… it was fine. It was still strange to think about that, the Sea and Ferry of the Damned . She would be fine; she was already starting to feel markedly better. Blue gathered up the freshly dropped coconuts and the two of them headed back to the ship.

At the table, Z seemed at a loss for words. “So… how do you…?”

“Have you ever seen a coconut like this?”

He scowled. “Yeah. It’s jus’ been a while.”

She laughed; that she could believe. “I will shuck this one,” she said, pointing out the largest one. “The others do not get shucked.”

He made a face. He said nothing and yet…

“What, do you want to?”

“I’d like y’ t’ show me.”

“Go get a dull sword from the barrel and a damp towel.”

He rose a brow but went to do as told. While he did that, Blue cut a hole into one of the other coconuts with her dagger. When Z came back, they traded items.

“Try drinking from that,” she suggested. She wrapped the sword from hilt to the last few inches before the point, which she left exposed. Judging by the look on her shipmate’s face… “I take it you like it?”

“It’s diff’rent. Not as good as the other thing y’ showed me, but—” he gave it a small shake “—there’s a lot more water in here than usual. I like it.”

“Now, as for this one…”

The negated sword was held firmly between her knees, point up. After being handed the largest coconut, she gave it a good whack on the point, wiggled it, and the husk began to peel. More careful wiggles forced more of the husk to peel away and soon enough the last of it could be pulled away by hand.

“Well, that’s easy enough.”

“I would not recommend it with your sword,” Blue said. He laughed. Then Blue worked on the shell of the coconut with the dull side of her dagger’s blade, a task that he was keen to watch. Something seemed off, and before she could voice her thoughts…

“Y’know you can jus’—” He twisted his hand and made a biting motion.

“… Just what?” He was not suggesting…

“You can jus’ bite it open. Have you never—”

“No! Why would I?”

Now the two just stared at each other, realising that this was another moment of conflicting knowledge. Z ducked down to the food barrel and Blue followed him, partially so that she could put her tools away, partially due to painful curiosity.

“I need a coconut you don’t care about.”

She sighed and stood beside him, fishing through the barrel. She found one that was the right size and weight, made the right noise when knocked, and handed it to him.

He laughed very loudly after she watched him snap it open with his teeth.

“You’ve never done that after gettin’ cut or shot?” he asked, chewing at his snack, albeit mostly out of habit.

Blue’s flabbergasted expression didn’t let up, though neither did it worsen. She took a deep breath. “And why would I do that?”

“Hmm… Mm! Mm. Y’ eat a lot of fish, don’t you?” When she nodded, he continued: “That makes sense. Yer wounds heal extra fast. Everyone that eats right sees this, but meat-eaters say they ‘specially see it. Some of them don’t take any food to a fight at all—”

“Why would you take food to a fight?”

“Because if you eat somethin’ right after gettin’ hit, it fixes you up. To a point.”

Blue had a hard time believing this. Yet, everything he had told her outside of his jests had been true. He wasn’t pulling her leg.

“So those guys take extra shots, a big hammer, or somethin’ else with that freedom. Somethin’ about meat is better than fruit. … I don’t remember where I was goin’ with this.”

“Apologies. You must realise how… strange this sounds.”

Z looked like he had something to say, then his face twisted into that small grin she was accustomed to seeing whenever he had a horrible idea that he thought was so very funny. Blue just barely dodged a halfhearted punch from him, pulling back out of the way. One hand went to his wrist, aiming to shove him away. Instead, she found herself to be the one shoved back, her back pressed against the supporting beam of the sloop’s lower deck by his hand on her collarbone. He kept her other arm at her side.

“God damn y’re fast.”

Blue glared at him, futilely digging her fingers into his forearm.

“Now, c’mere.”

She yelped when he pulled her close against him, lifted her and just carried her. Offended would mildly describe how she felt about the arm he had around her waist while he took her back over to the table. He was so quick about it that Blue wasn’t allowed enough time to decide how to best strike him, finding herself being sat down in the chair. One of her arms was still held, much more loosely now and at the wrist, palm up.

“Cut yerself.”

“What?”

“Cut yerself,” he insisted, gesturing to the blade she’d left on the table. “Practical examples, right?”

Blue glared at him. It was incredible how quickly he soured her mood. She was certainly not cutting herself, either. She would just believe him, and she would have said this if he hadn’t cut her palm open for her.

The scream and swearing that followed were anything but ladylike. There was definitely a tear or two.

Hunched over holding her palm, Blue was more than a little mad. When she finally looked back up to direct her swearing at a certain someone, he was holding a pineapple out for her to take.

“You’re kidding me.”

Z rolled his eyes. He wiped the blood from her dagger off on his pant leg and cut the pineapple in half. He offered it to her again. She took the top half, holding it by the… the stem? The leaves? Either way, something compelled her to chew at it and eat all that she could. Upon later reflection, she would find that even some of the rind had been eaten.

For now, she looked down. There was still blood all over her hands, spilt onto the floor and all over herself, but the pain had subsided. As she inspected the injury, she found that there was not even a mark left on her palm.

“Fuck.”

Z laughed. He laughed hard, boisterously until he fell backwards on his ass, and even then he still laughed some.

“Still don’t believe me?”

“What the hell?”

“There’s somethin’ about pineapples. No matter how hard y’ve been hit, they’ll make y' almost good as new, and there’s too much t’ eat in one go. You get two tries at whatever y’re doin’ with one pineapple. Y’know, as long as y’ don’t get killed.”

“Incredible.”

The both of them now eyed the remainder of the pineapple that Z had dropped on the table before falling.

“All I have ever done is eat them because they taste good.”

“You— what?” Now it was Z’s turn to look incredulous.

“Mhm.” Blue looked at her hands and lap again. There was no salvaging that. She wiped her hands off on her pant legs as best she could and took the bottom half of the pineapple down to the stove.

“What do y’ think y’re doin’?”

“It will simply spoil if left like this, yes?” He grumbled an affirmation. Blue continued: “Then there is no problem with this practical example of mine .”

The pineapple bottom was placed in the pan and Blue looked about in the bottom food barrel. A small box was withdrawn and from it, sea salt was sprinkled upon the pineapple’s flesh. Then it was flipped over and allowed to heat more thoroughly before finally being removed from the pan.

“Try this.”

He looked like a petulant child, so much so that she was surprised that he accepted it. He took a bite of the fruit’s flesh and very quickly did his sour face melt away.

Z only ever ate when he needed to, she realised.

Blue didn’t wait for him to speak his opinion before walking away.

*

The rest of the night had been quiet. It seemed that Z was getting better at understanding when his company was wholly intolerable to Blue, allowing her to consider just what sort she was keeping. She did not mind teaching someone who simply did not know any better how to forage for fruit or how to fish, but he had acted as though he had never scavenged for anything good to eat. The grilled pineapple had been the last straw.

He couldn’t read — she knew that much. If he could, he would have had some choice words for her after the initial note she had left for him. When Blue had finally sat down to write that night, she took her time, going over her older writing and cross-referencing her thoughts. The things that he had said, the way he voiced his ideas, the peak of Shipwreck Bay, the nonchalant nature in which he handled skeleton fortresses — she got the feeling that he was not entirely honest with her. She couldn’t blame him; if he had been, she probably never would have accepted the deal they had made. Instead she was now sailing across the Sea of Thieves for some knowledge that would ultimately be pointless to her in exchange for someone continuing their own trivial life.

Coming to that conclusion had bothered her quite a lot. As fascinating as this place was, she had no desire to stay any longer than was necessary. She guessed that the same could not be said for Z.

Sleep did not come easily that night. Like usual, Blue had curled up on the sloop’s canvas under a light blanket. For a long time she laid there, trying to clear her mind until she dozed off. Then she was awake again, mind stirring with lingering thoughts. It was an endless cycle that got worse the later into the night it got, fatigue failing to take her in earnest. At one point, she considered just getting up and doing something productive; before she could, she fell asleep again. The thought was considered again as she awoke, bleary eyed and groggy. A footfall roused her more.

As Blue rolled over to face him and ask Z what he wanted, the sound of a thunk and fabric tearing behind her caught her attention. That was strange. She looked up to examine just what that was and definitely screamed at the skeleton that had tried to kill her. Old habits proved useful and she was able to parry the next swing with her dagger, finding the time to scramble out of the way of the next one thanks to it.

Besides the one focused on her, there were two more skeletons: one stood by the mast and one was currently climbing the starboard ladder.

There was a bigger problem at hand: Blue couldn’t fight the skeleton keeping her at the canvas. The black bones, the shimmer — she had no way to make the shadow skeleton vulnerable until she got past it. Skellies were slow, she just had to find an opening and remember that she could take a hit or two as long as it didn’t cripple her.

Z’s information was about to be tested. Then she was going to kill him.

He complained that she was fast — or maybe it was a compliment — and surely this skeleton would have done the same if it had a tongue in which to do so with. Blue waited for it to strike at her again, then rolled aside, dashing past it to the lantern mounted by the wheel. She lit it and threw herself towards the side of the ship, a burning sensation going down her arm as she did that. Blood dripped off her elbow but the wound didn’t seem too bad; the skeleton was stunned and screeched its own grievances from being exposed to a light source. Taking this moment of opportunity, Blue rushed it and shoved it off the ship just as the next one came aboard to take its place on the quarter-deck.

A commotion downstairs momentarily caught her attention. The skeleton at the mast didn’t seem to know whether to go up or down the stairs. So there was more than the three she had spotted.

On her feet and ready, Blue was able to strike first against the skeleton on the same level as her. It guarded heavily against her blows and she regretted not being able to fight better — the wound was not serious, but it fatigued her arm quickly and she was not ambidextrous. It finally made a swing at her and she had to hop backwards to avoid it. Reversing her grip on her dagger, she parried the following blows, now finding the next moves easier and easier to perform.

With a great crash, Z came barrelling up the stairs and collided with the skeleton on the main-deck, sword in hand. It was rendered inert and in the moment that Blue and the skeleton she was fighting took to look at him, he shot himself up the next set of stairs took that one’s head off with a stabbing motion of his weapon.

Blue looked from her shipmate to the crumbled mess of bones on the floor. A brief moment of relief ran over her until she recalled the one she had thrown overboard; she kicked it off the ladder.

“Let’s go!”

Z didn’t wait before lowering the sail to get them moving.

Blue headed downstairs to survey the damage. There were two more ‘corpses’ to be cleaned up and the lower decks were just a general mess now, her tidy spaces dishevelled by the intruders.

More than a little overwhelmed, she sat at the foot of the bed, considering what had just transpired. Her arm still hurt a little, though not as much as expected. When she held it, she found that there was hardly a wound underneath the blood that was beginning to dry.

Z had made a point about her eating a lot of fish.

Breathing deep, Blue worked to calm herself. Despite the jitters, knowing that they were already away from that accursed island helped a lot, and she found that she was quite tired. The worse she had to worry about after all that was a tear in her sleeve.

“Hey, y’ good?”

Had she not been resting her face in the palm of her unoccupied hand to control the shaking, Blue might have struck him. As it were, she only lifted her head to look at him, reconsidering the idea. He looked…

“I am fine. You?”

“Nothin’ that can’t be helped.” He looked like he had taken a blow to the head — probably how he had been woken.

“Take us to Lone Cove—”

“Lonely’s closer.”

She paused, holding back the urge to strike him yet again. Lonely Isle was quite a lot closer than Lone Cove. The waves were more agreeable and the sloop could manage the wind. Then… “You’re right.”

Z nodded. He started to make for the upper decks and caught himself, looking her over. “You look like hell. D’you—”

“I am fine. Just… go.” She waved him off and despite the sigh, Z made himself scarce.

Both of them were fine and the ship was moving. They were fine . Despite her fatigue, Blue couldn’t sit still quite yet. She got to her feet and found a scrap of cloth to wipe the blood off her arm with. Perhaps all that was left underneath the blood would scar; perhaps not.

The bones on the floor bothered her greatly. She set about picking them up by the armfuls and throwing them overboard. After a couple of trips, she spotted Z doing the same thing above her and it took just a few more to rid the hold of the eyesores.

If anyone looked like hell, it was him. Maybe it was an outward appearance thing.

Blue ducked back down to the lowest deck, wondering what the hell to do with herself. Her shipmate didn’t need her help to sail, and if she stayed up, they could just go to Sanctuary, but she was becoming so tired…

That was it, she was going back to sleep. With the ship moving, she would have to use the bed — or curl up in a corner somewhere very uncomfortable and she was not doing that — and why not? It was hers anyway.

It was just after pulling a blanket over herself that Blue was aware of just how much the bed smelled like her new shipmate, even after washing the linens. She’d have to fix that. After sleeping. And if Z had any problems with that, he’d just have to curl up next to her or in a corner. Maybe she didn’t actually want to deal with that.

Whether or not she would tolerate such a thing, Blue was too tired to make a decision before falling asleep.

*

Many hours later, Blue awoke to quite an odd sight. Before her stood her shipmate. He held the lid of one food barrel in one hand, his other hand primed as though to strike at something. It was such a strange sight that she didn’t move herself, curious and just a little concerned.

Finally, he lunged forward and withdrew a crab from the barrel with a triumphant — if subdued — “Ha!”

Blue had a couple of questions. Almost every single one was easily answered by last night’s skeletal ambush. She knew one more thing, too: “I am not cooking that.”

He yelped and jumped, turning to look at her. It was slightly amusing, though all she did was roll over.

Z tried to say something, then yelped again. There was a small thud and she knew what happened. She still felt the need to ask.

“Did you drop it?”

“No! … Yes.”

She took a deep breath, one that required her to ignore the faint scent of rum. That sounded good right now but was absolutely not proper this early in the day. She froze momentarily when he sat at the foot of the bed, mucking about with something in his hands.

“You look better than y’ did last night.”

“Of that I am certain.” She humoured him, well rested now but still annoyed to be denied an opportunity to doze a little more. She twisted slightly to get a look at what he was doing and wondered why he was removing his peg leg. The question was answered when he leaned down, using it to fish under the bed for the crab.

“Are you about to be outwitted by a crustacean?”

“Not outwitted — out-pinched.”

Blue didn’t even know what she was supposed to say to that. She was even more dumbfounded when he dragged the crab out from under the bed by having coaxed it into latching onto the end of his replacement leg with its pincers. The toothy grin he gave her was entirely too prideful.

“… like I said, I am not cooking it. Nor do I have a pot anywhere that it will fit in.”

“Fine, I’ll throw it over.”

Z moved to stand, then paused. There was no way he could do as he said with only one good leg. Blue had no idea where the walking stick she had gotten for him previously had gone — or why he hadn’t used it for this task.

He slowly looked at her, a little lost.

“Can you—”

“I will not.”

“I need both my hands t’ put this back on.”

“So you have been outwitted by a crab?”

The expression he wore had shifted to a scowl and she swore that she could see him biting the inside of his cheek. Then he dropped the crab with a shrug. Blue lurched forward, pressing the blanket down and around the skittering thing so that it didn’t crawl into bed with her proper.

“ You …!” Oh, the things she might say to him. Blue couldn’t begin to decide where to start.

“Yea?” He looked very proud of himself, working on putting his prosthetic back on now.

The crab futilely poked at the point where the blanket folded.

Of course, perhaps Z might turn this around on her. This one had no honour at all. “I presume you are quite pleased with yourself?”

“Uh huh.”

“Mhm,” she repeated after him. Carefully, she ran a hand under the blanket, grabbing the crab by the body. If he wouldn’t dispose of it, she would. Of course, this was a feisty, flexible thing and it managed to grab her back before she had even stood up. The difference between them was that she only grumbled.

Up at the mid-deck, Blue leaned over the half-wall. She would have dropped the crab if it had agreed. Now it seemed to want to stay, refusing to let go of her fingers. Her still free hand had no hope of prying its pincers loose, though that didn’t stop her from trying. If only it had grabbed her other hand…

Z finally joined her, fake-foot situated back onto what remained of that real one. He still looked quite pleased with himself, though he did quirk a brow at the crab’s newfound hold on her. Blue doubted that he would help, but she’d give it a shot anyway.

“On your side, below my knee — retrieve my dagger, would you?”

It took a moment, but he understood what she was asking.

“Really? You want me to—”

“I could kick you instead.”

He sighed, then carefully went about doing as asked. She didn’t complain and stayed still, though Blue was surprised that he didn’t let his hand wander. The blade was daintily offered to her and she accepted it. The tip of the knife was wedged between the crab’s pincers and then twisted, forcing the little thing to release her hand so it could fall into the ocean.

“You are ridiculous.”

Z just chuckled.

With that mess settled, Blue headed back downstairs so she could get dressed; a fish was placed in the pan to heat while she did that. When she was finished and it was heated enough but still manageable by hand, the fish was cut in half. Blue took the tail-end and gave her shipmate the other half as she passed him on the way up to the main-deck. From there, she took a good look at their surroundings.

Had the rock cluster not been there, Sanctuary Outpost would have been in view. This ordeal was nearly over. The wind was good, too, a fair crosswind. The sooner they left, the more likely they were to keep that condition the entire trip.

“We should go before the wind changes.”

His head was tilted, perhaps doing the same as she was. “Y’ sound eager to get rid of me.”

“I am eager to rid of you,” she confirmed as she stepped up to the helm-deck. It hadn’t been said venomously, but Blue’s mind was already gathering reasons to argue this.

“How could you?” he asked in jest.

“Well, for one,” she started, somewhat annoyed, “I have never been so close to having a crab for a bedmate before today.”

Blue simply rolled her eyes and got the ship moving while he guffawed.

Notes:

OooOOooOoOOo spoopy
I am slightly annoyed that I didn’t get to post this last update ‘cause it would’ve been more fitting for the near-Halloween time. Oh well lol

Fun facts: this part was originally split but when I realised the second part would have been very small and didn’t flow right into the next one, I combined them. This part is also 7,777 words in my editor \o/

Chapter 10: Sanctuary

Summary:

After their visit to Hidden Spring Keep, Blue and Z reach Sanctuary Outpost. Blue cannot be rid of him fast enough and Z tries to make good on his offer to introduce her to his friends.

Before them was Sanctuary Outpost, an island situated in the beautiful Shores of Plenty. It was one of the easiest outposts to navigate and after dealing with Dagger Tooth, it was a welcome sight. Anything that wasn’t in the Wilds was a welcome sight. On the other hand, it was also the ending point for this voyage.

There were two ships there: a brigantine and a galleon. The latter was at the main pier in prime docking position while the brig was at the lesser-used dock, out of the way of anyone coming in for a visit. With the sloop’s shallow draft, Blue was able to pull their ship in alongside the main dock, near the Merchant Alliance’s post. Z took the hint and got the ropes ready to complete the docking process. This way they avoided having any reason to deal with the galleon crew.

“Well, here we are,” Blue announced.

“Here we are.”

He pulled hard on the ropes, nestling the sloop’s stern close to the dock. As soon as he stepped off the ship to secure the rope to a post, Blue followed him, checking his work. The expression on her face made him uneasy.

“Here we are,” he repeated. The moment felt rather final. When Blue didn’t say anything right away, he asked, “What now?”

She stepped close to him, looking over his face; he had no idea what she could have possibly been doing. Then she stepped away, saying, “Now I have fulfilled my end of the bargain and I wash my hands of you.”

Well, that was rude. He didn’t say or show that thought, however. Instead, he placed his hands on his hips, a smirk crossing his face. “What, no kiss goodbye?”

“Should anyone ask, I will deny knowing you and claim you a stowaway.” He was surprised to receive even a polite bow before she turned away from him and headed up the pier.

Z huffed at that, unable to keep up his playful demeanour. A thought crossed his mind and he called out, “Remember my offer!” At least Blue responded with that callous wave she so often gave him so he knew she had heard him.

He gave the sloop one last look. There were a few more of his belongings that he could grab, but he decided against it. He had a good set of clothes on his back, his weapons, and his pockets were full of good supplies. There was nothing more than he needed from this ship.

Now… he had choices. He could go to the brig directly — his friend was known for liking them. That and he didn’t recognise anything about the dressed-up galleon.

Rather, Z chose to walk the island’s length and head to the tavern. There were many pirates here if the sounds he picked up were anything to go by. He could hear inside the clothing store that the shopkeeper was talking someone’s ear off. Besides that, everyone else seemed to be inside the tavern or on their ships.

He took his time to finally get to the tavern. Blue almost ran into him as she left in a hurry. No, she definitely didn’t want anything to do with him. Still, he couldn’t help being curious, wondering what the hell that was about. He stepped through the threshold and scanned the rowdy pirates inside. It looked as though the entire galleon crew and then some were present, but there was only one person in the corner he cared for.

“Jack!”

“Hey, Z!”

The two embraced for a moment, Z earning a hearty slap on the back from the wider man.

“I was beginnin’ to think you weren’t going to show,” his friend said as the two of them sat down.

Z laughed. “I ran into some trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“Of the galleon kind. It’s all good, they got what was comin’ to ‘em. I got their Chest of Legends and sunk ‘em.”

“Wow.” Jackson was impressed and he’d damn well be. Z was impressed with himself, too. “How’d you manage that?”

Well… “Ehh, I… had a little help,” he admitted, ducking his head a little. “A distraction.”

“Really? Was it that fine woman that was just in here? She bought us all a round of grog.”

“She did?” He shook his head. “But uh, yeah. Blue brought me here, too. My sloop didn’t fair so good against a gally.”

Jackson couldn’t help a toothy grin. “Really? You got somebody t’ put up with you?”

Z rolled his eyes. “We made a deal. Her side was to bring me here. Now she doesn’t want anythin’ to do with me.”

“Jesus, what’d you do to her?”

“Nothing! She’s got a stick so far up her ass you couldn’t get it back no matter how hard y’ pull.”

The both of them shared a laugh.

“Well, this Blue lady is fine by me,” Jackson said, happy to nurse his free drink.

“Yeah, I bet she is.” Z was a tad disappointed to have missed a free round of drinks. His purse was still quite heavy, but that wasn’t the point. And… “Did no one else show up?”

“No. I was startin’ to think even you weren’t gonna show. We’re all always late, but this… it’s late .”

“Yeah. Sorry. Uh…”

“What?”

Z drummed his fingers against the table. “If it’s just the two of us… should I see if I can convince Blue to join us?”

“I thought you said—”

“I told her I’d introduce her t’ you and anyone else here.”

Jackson paused to stare down at his quickly disappearing grog. “It would be nice to have a full crew…” He nodded and Z nodded back in affirmation.

“I’ll be back then.”

“I’ll meet you at the brig.”

“Sounds good.”

The two nodded to each other again and stood, exiting the tavern and going their separate ways. Z was astonished that no one else had shown up, but that wasn’t entirely unexpected of their extended crew. Z wondered how he was the most reliable of them all. He shook his head of those thoughts.

He glanced to the sloop at the dock: it was still there, so where had Blue gone? The first thought he had was to check the little ship itself, to see if she had disappeared to its lower decks. She had not. That meant she was still on the island somewhere.

Z would find his curiosity quickly sated. Before he could investigate the still noisy clothing shop, Blue stepped out of the weaponsmith’s building. In her arms was a crate and on top of it were two plain swords. She looked annoyed when he came up alongside her on the way back to the sloop.

“Hey, whatcha doin’?”

“Minding my own business.”

“Alright.” He really should have expected something like that. Still, Z was not deterred and only thought more carefully about what he was going to say as they reached the sloop.

“Look, my offer still stands if y’ wanna meet my friends. Friend. Only one showed.” He let those words settle in as she stepped from the pier onto the mid-deck. “So we have room for another crewmember on the brig.”

Blue was in the middle of inspecting one of the newly obtained swords when he finished speaking. It was another moment before she said, “Ah, so the galleon is not yours? What a pity. That and your undermanned ship.”

He sighed. She was being… less difficult than she could have been, he supposed. At least she was tolerating him.

“We won’t be leavin’ for a while still, so think about it. Bigger crews on bigger ships can make more money if they’re good at what they’re doin’. It’s no gally, but the brig is fast. Jus’… just think about it.”

He knew she wasn’t going to humour him so Z just made his way back up the pier.

*

“My money’s missin’!”

That cleared things up. Jackson had been irritated all afternoon since the two met up at the brigantine and Z was right: it wasn’t about him. He was glad for that, if less glad about his friend having apparently been robbed.

“Alright, so… which one of the galleon crew do y’ think it was?”

“How you so sure it wasn’t your lady friend?”

The mere idea of Blue taking someone’s purse seemed out of character. “It’s not her style.”

Jackson thought for a moment. “You invited someone to join us who wouldn’t take somebody’s money if they could?”

“… maybe. What of it? She’s a good sailor and ev’ryone likes t’ make more coin.”

Jackson made a noncommittal noise as he fruitlessly searched the captain’s area some more for his purse, overturning the mattress and checking further under the bed again.

“So, who from the galleon do y’ think it was?”

“Ehh, I dunno. I haven’t had any problems with them before today and I’ve been here almost a fortnight now.”

Z blinked. “Why have they been here?”

The other shrugged. “They just don’t want to sail. Taking a break, spendin’ their money, I guess.”

There was no way that Blue was to blame for this. If the other crew was a decent lot, then his friend must have misplaced his coins. It wouldn’t have been the first time something like that had happened, but it usually required that the night before to be rich in alcohol. That wasn’t the case this time.

“Let’s go take a look and see if y’ dropped it in the tavern?”

Z didn’t wait for the other’s response before heading up to the deck. He was surprised to see someone coming down their dock and then realised that it was Blue. No longer did brightly coloured fabric adorn her as he had become so used to seeing, replaced by the loose-fitting black garb that he expected of the crew. On her waist was a sword and her dagger, an Eye of Reach slung over her back. She had made her way to the end of the dock before he regained his composure.

“What?”

“I… I didn’t think you were comin’ with.”

“I changed my mind.”

He couldn’t come up with any sort of sarcastic remark for that and only grinned.

Jackson groaned as he brought himself upstairs, perking up slightly when he saw that they had a guest. “Hey!” he greeted.

On the other hand, Blue seemed to deflate when she saw him. She looked away for a long moment, head tilted under her hat, then sighed. Both men had looked at each other, curious, and then were surprised when she tossed a purse at Jackson, glee and then displeasure spread across his face.

“I suppose you can have back what remains.”

Z must have looked like as much of a fool as he felt. “Did you…?”

“You two should keep a better eye on your coin.”

The two of them glanced at each other, wondering her exact meaning. Z still had his, a light touch reaffirmed that. Perhaps it was best to not ask.

“Now,” Blue started, hands on her hips; “Do you two want another crew member or not?”

They looked at her and nodded, giving their own confirmations.

Blue stepped on deck. “Good. Now then…” She made her way downstairs, leaving them to stare at each other.

“You sure about this?”

Z shook his head. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

*

For the rest of the afternoon, the crew spent it separated from each other, each one preparing for departure in their own ways. Jackson had kept to the ship, making sure everything was in place and that anything more brought aboard was organised as best as he could. This proved quite necessary as Blue brought quite a lot of supplies over from the sloop; it was overstocked anyway, so why not? Z added more to the manifest by habit by pillaging from the island.

Blue had not been shy about showing her disdain for the ship’s configuration. Though she spoke no words regarding it, both men could tell that she did not like it. Having spotted her hammock near the map table, Z thought he might know why. And despite its extra length, the brig was hardly any wider than a sloop was, making the hold difficult to live in with a jail cell in the centre taking up so much space, the walls lined with this and that. He was beginning to wish that they made a habit of replacing the jail with something else, anything, to make the hold nicer for living.

Not that he would openly complain about how things were. Though he had been wrong about the suspect, Blue’s thievery had earned her some respect, albeit at a cost. Jackson often doubted anything and everything to some degree, it was his nature to be apprehensive, but now Z could feel it, too. He was going to learn some new things about her, he was sure of it.

“Are we ready to get goin’?”

Z tapped his chin thoughtfully. “How’s our stock?”

“Better than usual.”

Blue glanced at the men, dagger between her teeth as she carried a crate of rum aboard. They looked back and she paused, her expression’s meaning clear: You’re welcome . The two of them looked to each other before they followed her to the hold and assembled around the voting table.

“All right, first thing’s first,” Z started; he gestured between the other two. “Jack, Blue. Blue, Jack. I think you two’ve meet before.”

Jackson grumbled, adding fuel to Blue’s little smirk as she gave him a polite salute. Z refrained from commenting, simply grinning.

“Now then, are we ready to take off?”

Jackson tapped the table. “I’d say so. Supplies look good. Unless you two have anythin’ you want to grab before we leave, we’re ready.”

“I have brought over everything that I think will be of any use to us,” Blue added.

Z nodded. “Then all we have to talk about are plans.”

Both of his shipmates gave him a curious look.

“We’ll go after anythin’ that we stand to make coin off of. We can stay nearby and hit up Hidden Springs when it goes active. We’ll be the first there and avoid any competition. Easy. In th—”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘when it goes active’?” Jackson interjected. “How do you know?”

“Ehh, we, uh…”

“We know,” Blue answered sternly.

“Yeah. We know. Jus’ trust me on that one. In the meantime, I spotted a sloop south’a us that might be worth takin’ in the night.”

Jackson nervously side-eyed their new crew member. It seemed that both of them expected her to have something to say about that. When she looked at them expectantly, Z faltered.

“Is that agreeable?”

Jackson looked at him as though he was insane.

Blue asked, “Why would it not be?”

Z wasn’t sure what to say to that and his words suffered for it. “Because you… y’ seemed…”

“Seemed what?” Her hands went to her hips, an equally unimpressed expression crossing over her face. “I am fairly certain that I know what I am getting myself into if that is your concern. You said it yourself: larger crews make more money. Or was that incorrect?”

“No…”

Jackson gave him a subtle accusatory eye.

“Well, what are we waiting for then?” Blue asked.

The group looked at each other, all expecting… something. Z took a breath and nodded.

“Alright. Usual crew rules: we put everythin’ to a vote, but y’ll prob’ly be outvoted two t’ one—”

“I expect nothing less.”

“Good. Let’s get goin’ then.”

*

Sailing was easy when everyone aboard the ship participated and knew what the hell they were doing. Despite the shared knowledge, Blue looked awkward on the brigantine. When Jackson called for the sails to be moved, she double-checked what she did, made sure that she adjusted the correct rigging or that she was stood in the right place to not get thrown overboard by the slim ship’s incredible speed. She never asked where anything was or for help, though.

They ended up back at Lonely Isle at sundown. They could keep an eye on both the fort and the sloop at Cannon Cove from there. Once the ship was nearly stopped, Jackson could hold his tongue no more.

“All right, but how do you know this fort’s the next one?”

Z sighed. He just wanted to be trusted on the matter. Blue had more to say.

“This incorrigible idiot thought it wise to stop there the other night. We were not alone.”

Z sheepishly shrugged when he was looked at by both parties. “So that happens every once in a while…!”

Blue shook her head and ducked down into the hold.

Jackson watched her disappear before turning his attention to Z. All afternoon he had a vague look of uncertainty in his eyes, like he wasn’t sure what they were doing for once. Z knew it was because of Blue, and despite the trust he had with his longtime friend, it couldn’t help the doubt. Z felt it, too. He made his way downstairs.

“Hey.”

Blue paused in rummaging through her bag, then began again.

Z cleared his throat. It was time to stop beating around the bush. “Why are you here?”

“Was I not clear before?”

“No, y’ were, but y’ also said y’ couldn’t stand me and didn’t like how I handled the gally at Ancient Spire and all else, so… so why are you here if that’s how it is?”

She sighed. “Larger crews make more money—”

“That’s not what this is about, is it? Y’ can’t possibly need that much.”

“You would be surprised.”

“Try me.”

“I was not offering to share.”

Z just about threw his hands up in frustration.

“You are looking for something you are not privy to. Now—”

“Alright, alright, fine, keep yer secrets.” Z knew he wasn’t going to learn those things quite yet. Still, he was curious about why she was here. Perhaps asking the question differently…

“How are you here?”

She rose a brow. “How?”

“How? With everythin’ y’ can’t stand, how’re you managin’?”

“It is a simple desire to make a little more coin and try something new. Much of what you told me is applicable to combat, correct?”

“Yes…” Now it was his turn to be difficult. There was no easy way to tell someone like her, someone who apparently didn’t like to fight, that this ship was one that fought anyone and everyone. Or maybe… “So y’re not surprised that we’re goin’ to attack anyone we see?”

He watched with some amused curiosity as Blue adorned a gold bandanna around her face and let him soak it in.

“I see. Is—” He paused, wondering if he should ask. His curiosity was insatiable. “Is there anyone we should go look for?”

She gave him a thoughtful noise. “Perhaps. For now, however, I will let you two show me what you do. I hardly think we will ran into any… friends of mine.”

“And if we do?”

“I will speak up and let you know where to hit them.”

Z blinked, then chuckled with an air of uncertainty. He had no idea what she meant. He pushed past that subject.

“How much combat have y’ seen?”

“Seen or participated in?”

What the hell kind of question was that? “Both?”

Blue finally pulled her mask down, letting it rest around her neck while she stared at him. “Too much. You saw one of my battles. Before that one, I was forced to sink another sloop on my own and it cost me my sail.”

“Did it?”

“The one you saw on my ship was theirs. I had to pull it from the water immediately after.”

“Resourceful, aren’tcha?”

“Are you not? Or do you let pure luck take you from one point to another?”

He made a mocking noise. “Fine. But I still don’t know how you fight.”

She tilted her head. “However I need to. I can work the cannons, use a sword or shoot—”

“I’ve never even seen you hold a sword right.”

Blue took a breath and held it. She let it out as a sigh just before standing with proper posture and then tilted her head down, letting the brim of her hat cover her face. Z wasn’t sure what to think of this until he shifted his weight to one side and she leaned the other way. That made him pause before doing the opposite and getting the same response. That time he had heard the wood creak underfoot and it made him wonder.

“Is yer hearin’ that good?”

“Better than yours.”

Blue stepped back against the map table, then she made a motion for him to come to her. He always liked sparring, yet she made it so much more interesting than a straight scuffle.

Blue’s hearing couldn’t be so good that she could hear him crouching low, he reasoned. Yet, when he did just that and tried to lunge for her legs, having made no noise that he could hear, she sidestepped him; he didn’t like that part so much. Then she was over the map table and it was between them. If he went over, she would go under. There was no way he could go under instead — he was too big to do that fast enough. As far as Z could tell, his only option was to make her move before trying to catch her again.

“You guys good down here?”

Or he would have had Jackson not come down at that point.

“Just dandy.”

“Y’ know what? You try,” Z said, backing up. When Blue lifted her head, he motioned for her to return to where she had been before.

“Try what?”

“Catching me,” Blue explained from her position behind the table still.

Jackson gave them both a quizzical look.

“It is fine; I believe I have made my point,” she added.

“Uh, sure. See, I was just comin’ down to see if you two were ready to get goin’. I know we haven’t been stopped long but that sloop’s been there all day and they’re either goin’ to leave in the night or just sleep through it.”

“So we should go.” Both men nodded to her. “A fine idea.”

Jackson motioned for them to move so he could get to the map. “We’ll go through here,” he started, pointing out a specific area of open water between the islands the ships were at. “There’s some rocks that should give us some cover when we go in.”

“Fair. The sooner we go, the better,” Blue reasoned.

Z considered how they had slept every night on the sloop and wondered if that had something to do with her eagerness. He didn’t wonder enough to ask right then and there, though. “Good idea.”

Everyone nodded to each other and returned to the main-deck.

As Jackson took the wheel and angled the ship so it was ready to leave, he spoke up. “Hey, can I ask you somethin’?”

Blue seemed taken aback. “What is it?”

“How’re your fightin’ skills? I still can’t figure out how you got my money, but this is different than a sleight of hand.” He wanted to hear it himself, it seemed.

“I am perfectly capable. What would you have me do?”

“I’ll tell you when we get there, but I think I want you boardin’ with Z, though.”

Blue rose a brow at that and he spoke again before she could.

“Here’s the plan: we go past ‘em if they move at all, shoot what we can, and then you two will jump off. If they don’t respond to us, then we’ll just pull up alongside ‘em.”

She nodded. “Very well.”

Jackson glanced over at Z and he nodded as well. It was a standard full-crew plan that sounded as good as any right now.

“All right, good! Any questions before we go?”

Blue shook her head and so did Z after another moment’s thought.

“Then lower my sails, please.”

Chapter 11: Restless Hands

Summary:

The crew leaves Sanctuary Outpost to go bother a previously spotted sloop. Not long after, the activity of Hidden Spring Fort broadcasts itself and the three sail over to meet it.

Despite the calm winds of the night, the brigantine still flew across the water’s surface. Jackson had the helm while Z fearlessly stood on the bowsprit, taking advantage of the ship’s smooth ride to keep an eye on what was ahead of them. Blue had situated herself right in the middle of the ship, close to the controls for the fore-sail. From there, she could see just as well as Z did that they were now minutes away from their target. The sloop stopped at Cannon Cove had not responded whatsoever to their rapid approach.

When they had first started moving, they went over a rough plan and then again went over it; she and Z would board the other vessel while Jackson minded the ship. Why the two men thought it was a good idea for her to take this role, she couldn’t fathom. It seemed to make them happy though, so she would oblige. Despite her reservations, Blue was curious to see how this would go.

Now very close to the little ship, the call to pull the front-sail went out and she was quick to respond. The main-sail went up most of the way, too. Relatively little of it was needed to keep the ship’s momentum going, but its reefing greatly improved Jackson’s control over the ship. Just as he was about to bring the ship around the stern of the smaller one, he motioned for her and Z to check it out.

Z was eager. He immediately leapt off the bowsprit and into the water. Blue took a moment to follow him, moving with more grace and making less noise as she entered the water. They were both quiet as they swam up to either of the sloop’s ladders. Z waited for her to start going up first, then went up his side. Neither of them could do anything about the water noisily dripping off their forms and so they scrambled upward.

The upper decks of the sloop were unremarkable, nor were any crew or treasures to be seen. Z looked to her and she stared back, then he drew his sword and stepped lightly down the stairs until he reached the mid-deck. A pirate was found sitting in the chair beside the voting table and both of them froze until they realised that they were asleep. Behind them was all the treasure that they had gathered, loosely strewn about the aft.

Z looked back at her for no reason that Blue could discern; her best guess was that he was gauging her reaction. She gave him no outward expression. She wished she had when he simply slit the other pirate’s throat open. There was a gurgle, then a thud when they fell out of their seat, momentarily frantic; then they were still and the Sea of the Damned claimed their body.

Blue wondered if he saw her expression.

Z dipped down to investigate the sloop’s lowest deck. When he said nothing and she didn’t hear his cutlass connect with anything, she assumed the ship was clear. Then he strode past her with purpose, apparently certain of the opposite. She watched him climb the ladder on the only mast all the way up to the crow’s nest. From there, he vaulted over the railing and investigated the yard. This was clever, Blue decided, though she would never say. It seemed that he had found no one as he spun around the mast and slid down the rope ladder.

“There’s no one else here, or they’re on the island,” he told her, ruining the quiet. He signalled the all-clear to their third. “There’s a lot t’ move here, so let’s get started.”

Moving their stolen goods was an easy enough task. They moved swiftly, placing every chest, crate, and few skulls on the map table so that Jackson could simply hook it with the harpoon to move it over to their own ship. Z looked over the sloop one more time as they were finishing up and once again found nothing of interest. A second crew member of the sloop had still not shown themselves, so he took his time stuffing an empty crate with worthwhile supplies before they swam back to the brigantine.

“Not a bad haul,” Jackson commented.

Z shook his head. “Not at all. It’s a lot for jus’ one person, though. Didn’t see any signs of another, though. Might be on the island somewhere. Of course…”

The two men looked at each other.

“One way to be sure.”

Blue couldn’t help her curiosity. When a single cannonball was shot through the sloop’s hull, she understood, all questions but one answered.

“Are we done here?”

“When this sinks we are. Then we’ll see if the merms start — what was it? — congregatin’ ‘round here.”

“Hm.” Blue stood there for a moment longer before declaring, “I am going to bed then. Wake me if you have need of me.”

Neither of her shipmates made any move to stop her as she went downstairs. She trusted that they could handle an observational task. While she didn’t expect them to conform to her sleeping habits, she was tired and needed to get to sleep hours ago. Despite the smell of metal permeating the entire bow section of the brigantine now thanks to their plundered treasure chests, Blue found that slipping out of her soaked clothes and into a nightgown was an easy task. Settling under a light blanket and falling asleep was even easier. Forgetting the sight of Z killing the sleeping pirate was more difficult.

*

Blue didn’t sleep very much that night. She felt rested enough, though, with no one having disturbed her.

Curious about their current status, she made her way through the ship. She spotted Jackson crumpled in the bed at the ship’s aft and let him be. From the stairs, she spotted Z sitting against the ship’s wheel. He looked ridiculous, arms crossed and his form leaning back. Despite it appearing as though he may have intended to sleep there, he had not removed his pegleg. That was curious.

She stood beside him for a long moment before he opened his eyes and they stared at each other.

“Are you supposed to be keeping watch like that?”

“Somethin’ like that. Y’re up now so what’s it matter?”

She looked him over. Then, decisively, Blue stepped on his whole leg, letting all her weight press down on him. She was disappointed when he didn’t cry out.

The two of them exchanged looks. It seemed he thought better of speaking and being annoying and she was glad for that, seeing that she was understood as he bent his other knee to remove the prosthetic. Blue removed herself from his good leg.

“Do you not prefer to sleep in a hammock at the very least?”

He sighed. “I can sleep anywhere.”

“That is not what I asked, and the sun is coming up.”

“And yer dress is long. What’s yer point?”

“Gown. It is a nightgown and jacket. My point is that you should go downstairs and get some proper rest.”

“And sleep where? In yer hammock?”

His sleeping where she should have or had was becoming quite the habit. “Might as well, I am not using it anymore.”

Just as she had said that Blue realised how poor of a lookout he was.

“I already took my leg off. What more do y’ want from me?”

She wasn’t inclined to respond to him right away, taking another moment to look at the clouds in the distance. She almost kicked him when he poked her leg through her gown.

“How much sleep do you need?”

“Uh, I dunno. I haven’t slept in a day now. A few hours?”

“Will the time it takes your friend and I to get the ship to Hidden Spring be long enough?”

Finally, Z followed her line of sight. The clouds indicated the fort’s activities had ramped up considerably. He grinned.

“More than enough.”

*

Sailing with Jackson was not as unpleasant an experience as she had expected it to be. He was a bit brash but meant well as far as she could tell. Still, she didn’t like that he didn’t seem to trust her knowledge, letting her know every little thing that he needed from her. It was difficult to tolerate in comparison to Z’s silent judging gaze.

They spotted a sloop in the distance. It, too, was angled towards the fort. Then, when they reefed the sails, the ship sharply turned off of the fort.

“They finally spotted us.”

With the bright morning sun and the brigantine’s lanterns doused, Blue thought it reasonable to assume that they were difficult to see. That was all that she could think of to explain the sloop’s slow response to them.

“I will wake Z,” Blue declared as she went downstairs.

She stopped next to the hammock. Z awoke with a start a moment later, sucking in a breath and shooting upright. Whatever that had been about, she wasn’t sure. They both froze as their gazes met.

“What?”

“There is another ship nearby. A sloop. Jackson thinks they thought better of going to the stronghold when they spotted us.”

“Ah.” He shifted, sitting up more comfortably. “Alright, I’m up.”

Or he mostly was. It took a moment for Z to collect himself and then roll out of the hammock, sitting on the map table so he could replace his prosthetic. Blue waited until he was done so that she could head back up to the main-deck with him.

The situation topside hadn’t changed. The sloop was still nearby and had reefed its sail, patrolling the waters just outside of the fort’s cannon range.

“Let’s get ‘em.”

Z was decisive as ever. Jackson agreed, and Blue had no good argument in the sloop’s favour. They were making a nuisance of themselves and she knew very well how to spot potential trouble.

“Check your pockets then,” she suggested.

She headed back downstairs to take her own advice; a handful of cannonballs and a mango were collected. When she returned to the main-deck, Z ducked down in her stead and returned in a single breath, ready. Jackson nodded his head when she looked at him. With everyone ready now, they unfurled the sails and put them in the wind, speeding the brigantine towards the sloop.

The little ship had indeed spotted them. As soon as they started moving with purpose, it did as well, attempting to keep the brig’s bow pointed at their starboard side. Z said something about this that she didn’t pick up exactly, but Jackson responded. With a quick spin of the wheel, the brigantine turned hard, aiming behind the other ship now.

Sloops were far more manoeuvrable than larger ships. Had its crew wanted to, their ship could have easily turned and kept on them. Rather than doing that, it kept going the way it was angled. At Jackson’s behest, she and Z shot a few cannonballs at it before it was totally out of range, just for good measure.

“Well, that was disappointin’.”

Blue glanced at her shipmates. Both of them looked as though they had expected more.

Jackson nodded. “Yeah, it was. Let’s head back to the fort. I don’t think they’ll come back.”

“What is our plan for the fortress?” Blue asked, preemptively angling the fore-sail.

“I’ll keep a look out,” Jackson declared as he turned the brig around; “You two can clear the skellies out.”

Blue nearly suggested that she take watch instead, habitually looking for some way to avoid any danger. Instead, she recognised that this was the best time for her to test out all the new knowledge she had been picking up. Shipmates also meant safety; should she fall, she would be avenged and they would mind the ship. Though her thoughts were both strange and comforting, she wondered if she was ever going to be able to form new habits around any of those ideas.

“We will take turns as needed?”

“Yeah, if we need to. Do we need to?”

“None of us have had a full rest.”

Z tried to hide the expression that showed he knew he was most guilty of this. Jackson thought for a moment, then shrugged.

“Alright. Holler if you need to tag out.”

Blue nodded back to him. Until they reached the island’s cannon range, she made herself as comfortable as she could by the fore-sail’s controls. When the first shots were fired, they all jumped to alertness.

One time, Blue had accidentally sailed too close to an active fortress far south in the Ancient Isles. To willingly sail at a volley…

“Heads up!”

On the bowsprit again, Z ducked. A cannonball had nearly given him a haircut. It took a very mad kind of person to put themselves in this sort of situation, Blue reasoned. Each of them had their own reasons for their madness.

“We’ll head to the back of the island,” Jackson shouted. “There’s a blind spot back there we can stop the ship in.”

Z and Blue both acknowledged him. Briefly, she wondered why they would avoid destroying the island’s defences, then realised they could also use them. Neither turret tower had any cannons that faced the area he described. If they left the skellies that manned them alone, then they could potentially use those defences to keep any rival ships away. The skellies would be an early warning system should they manage to not notice a ship come close and aid in their destruction. This made sense in her head, so long as said skellies did not abandon their posts.

After what felt like forever, they were so close to the island that some of the cannons no longer had viable angles on them. One of the last cannonballs to be fired had torn through the deck near the stairs. She and Jackson had both looked at it for a moment after impact — patching that could wait. For now, they started furling the sails so that the brigantine could drift into the spot where it would sit while the island was cleared of its dread inhabitants.

“Alright, go you two.”

Blue was already tired of being in the water. It had been unavoidable last night, but she wasn’t sure that it would have been unreasonable for Jackson to drop them off at the tiny dock the island had. She didn’t voice this thought, however, and wordlessly swam after Z around to the other side of the fort, climbing onto the rocks as soon as she could.

“Have you done this before?”

“No.”

Z snickered. “This’ll be fun then. Follow my lead.”

Blue wanted to strike him but refrained. “I am sure I can handle myself,” she sighed, adjusting her musket on her back so more water dripped off of it. She drew her sword and so did Z.

Nearly on the island proper now, the both of them scanned the area. Up the way, a horde of skeletons came pouring out of the room at the top of the landmass. It was far more than she had ever seen, far more aggressive. Strangely, none of them held any weapons.

“Here we go!”

Blue would swear that he sounded excited.

Cutlass in hand, Z was ready to meet the group. Doing as told, Blue stood nearby, ready as ever. She was eager to see this bite him in the ass. Instead, he raised his blade over his head and lunged forward, cutting through numerous skeletons in one move. She wasn’t quite sure what she had witnessed nor was she allowed any time to consider it as a few of the remaining skellies came at her. She struck them down though had a few scratches to show for it.

“Hey.” Blue looked at him as he spoke. “Try this.”

Slowly, Z brought his cutlass before him, angling it diagonally as if to block an incoming strike. Blue mimicked him. Then he pulled his hand back, bringing the sword to his side. With a twist of the wrist, he smoothly transitioned his hand over his head, back just a smidge. Blue still did as he did, uncertain.

“And then…” He lunged forward with his cutlass. “Now do it again, quicker, and give it yer all.”

She rose a brow at him. Apparently, her expression said enough and Z felt the need to demonstrate again. All of the movements he had shown her he did again in one fluid motion. He appeared to hesitate when he held his cutlass over his head. Then he hopped, dashing forward a considerable distance with the stabbing motion and taking a sizeable chunk out of the palm tree he hit.

“Ah.” Now she understood. Before trying it herself, a horn rang out.

“Next wave’s comin’,” he explained. She grunted an affirmation.

Once again, skeletons flooded out of the entryway of the building up at the top of the island. This time most of them carried cutlasses and moved towards them with purpose, but a few others had blunderbusses or pistols. Before the congregation had reached them, a shot rang out and Blue was aware of a bullet that just barely missed her. She traced it back to a skeleton that was high up on the island and made no moves to come closer. Another was on the other side of the peak with it; both held muskets in their hands.

Z could handle the horde. Blue kept him between her and it as she swung her Eye of Reach into her grasp and readied to fire. Her shot landed on one of the skellies up high; it recoiled and backed out of her view. The other one leaned into its gun, ready to fire. She took refuge behind a palm tree and it blocked the shot for her just as she had hoped while she reloaded. The first one peeked over the edge of the upper area before she shot and Blue readjusted her aim, hitting it once more. It satisfyingly shattered into a pile of inanimate bones. The same procedure was executed for its partner.

With the musket-wielding skeletons taken care of, she glanced back to Z. She had heard plenty of shots come from the mass of skeletons, but he still moved fluidly, apparently spared of any significant harm. He had not gone totally unscathed like before and that made her worry slightly. Blue fired her remaining shot into a pistol-wielding skelly before making a dash for the ammo box she had previously scouted. From there, she fired her musket a few more times until what remained of the swarm dissipated, broken down into piles of dust like the rest of their comrades.

“You good?” she heard him call from below.

Blue finished reloading her gun before peering over the railing at him. Somehow, Z had looked both better and worse. She could spy no serious injuries upon him.

“I am fine. And you?”

“Could be worse. Need t’ resupply at the ship?”

“No, there is a box of ammunition right here that I can use.”

He blinked. “Alright then.”

Blue looked to the side, gripping her musket. “How long does this go on for?”

“A while. We’ll be here all day.”

“Joy.”

Z laughed at her. The horn blasted once more and they looked at each other.

“If y’ don’t wanna get yer hands dirty, keep backin’ me up from there,” he said as he passed by the turret platform and headed up the hill. “Y’ve got enough shot in that box for that, right?”

Blue eyed the ammunition. Her aim was true so while the box wasn’t full, she was confident there was enough. And if she did run out, surely there was spare shot on the ground she could scavenge.

“Plenty. However, I can only shoot so fast, so—”

“That’s fine, just take out the ones with the big guns for me.”

“Of course.”

The arrangement would work quite fine for Blue. She didn’t favour either of her blades in a fight like this one. This would be a war of attrition, it seemed, and skellies had the edge with their numbers. An uncountable horde versus the two of them seemed a ridiculous task, but knowing what she did now, it was certainly feasible.

Just like the previous batch of skeletons, there was a mixture of weapons in use. Blue didn’t spot any musket-wielders, however, and that made the task of figuring out which ones to prioritise difficult. Half a handful of them held pistols and they didn’t want to get too close to Z, preferring to shoot at him from a sizeable distance away. She focused on them first. Just as before, one shot made them retreat, but this time she was able to see that as they did, they would eat a piece of fruit before returning to the fight. Why they did this, how they did it, and why they even had anything edible in the first place was terribly perplexing. Blue decided to stop thinking about the subject.

It became a cycle: the most aggressive skeletons with melee weapons would be handled by Z while she stayed afar, shooting the ones that refused to enter his sword’s reach. They cleared another batch out and caught their breaths before the next one came, and the one after that and so on. There had been another wave of weaponless skeletons and Blue couldn’t help wondering just what the point of that was. Were they unable to procure weapons, or was it intentional somehow? The more she thought about their enemy’s tactics, the less she liked it.

Time passed. The day had gone from mid-morning to late afternoon. Fatigue laced both their beings.

“Does this ever end?” she asked while she broke open a coconut to sate her thirst.

“We’re prob’ly halfway through this,” he responded, sipping at the one she had given him.

“That’s it?”

“Mhm. We’re actually makin’ good time.”

Blue bit onto the edge of the coconut rather than grit her teeth. That was all the progress they had made? These skellies seemed relentless.

“Do you need t’ tag out?”

“Are you not tired?” she rebuked.

He blinked and seemed to consider her words for a moment. Then: “Not really. You ever open one of these vaults? It’s worth the effort.”

“It had better be. You—”

The blasted horn rang out again. Blue had wanted a break, to stop and drink something more substantial than what a single coconut had. If she were fast, she still could. Then she saw that the entire horde of skellies running out of the building held swords in their hands. They moved with purpose towards the two of them and Z faltered, backing up and making a noise she hadn’t heard from him before. She vaulted over the side of the turret to keep him between her and the skeletons. She took the shots that she could, reloading her gun more swiftly than she thought she ever could.

With the ammunition in her pockets depleted, Blue drew her sword and stepped forward. She caught the attention of many skeletons from the front of the pack, the group breaking apart as some went after her, though Z was still left to fend off the majority. She mimicked him, slashing and stepping backwards to avoid the many pointy things being jabbed at her, though she refrained from the great forward-piercing motion he had shown her.

Most of the skellies that she had encountered in previous times were felled in a swipe or two, maybe one more, but these ones stepped back and munched on fruit when that happened. She hated that they did that. They should not have felt the need to eat anything and yet they mocked her by doing so. A slash to her left arm angered her enough to draw her dagger into that hand, striking with both it and her cutlass.

The group of sword-wielding skeletons took the longest of any for them to clear. Blue wanted to scream. Z picked up on her frustration and approached her, a stupid grin on his face.

“Need t’ tag out now?”

“I’m going to get a drink,” Blue declared, making her way back to the ship. She made her way to the top of the island and climbed down the rocks, unwilling to swim again. The brigantine was an easy hop from there.

Up in the crow’s nest, Jackson noticed and gave her a curious look. “Am I takin’ your place?”

“For now.”

He yelped in excitement and threw himself off the mast’s top and into the water. Blue barely spared a second thought to his disembarking before heading downstairs to the food barrel. She drew a pomegranate that didn’t feel too soft from the barrel and then poured herself a tankard of grog. It satisfied her thirst and calmed her; the fruit took care of her arm. The tear in the sleeve was still there, the black fabric stained even darker by blood, yet on her skin was nothing but the blemishes that had already existed. The extreme healing of this place was something she didn’t think she would ever get used to.

Back on the island, Blue heard the horn sound and soon after it followed sounds of fighting. She hadn’t planned to swap places with Jackson for long, maybe a wave or two, but now that she was allowed to relax, she realised that she was tired . Her body ached from the day of fighting, her arms sore down to the bone from the constant recoil of her rifle. It was no wonder why pirates would steal the treasures of these from others, she realised. Fighting an already fatigued crew would probably be easier than doing all of this. Of course, crews could always team up to make the load of work easier and split the loot… but that would be too easy, she supposed.

Refilling her tankard, Blue returned to the main-deck to browse the horizon. As expected, she spotted nothing save for the sloop they had chased off way in the distance and still going further, no longer interested in the fort. To be certain, she quickly finished her drink and made the climb to the crow’s nest. The elevated vantage point only reconfirmed what she knew. The sound of battle on the island had been a constant and from up there she could see it. Z and Jackson made a very effective duo, savaging the skeletons with efficiency. Still, they lacked tact and grace, choosing to hack away at anything that got too close to them and their cutlasses. Z would occasionally shoot a skelly, but the number of times he fired his blunderbuss paled in comparison to how much use her musket had gotten.

Rather than stress over making herself useful, Blue stayed where she was. A lookout was important anyway. She reasoned that her shipmates would appreciate working with each other, too. A cushy role or not, Blue stayed where she was, resting against the tip of the mast and doing what she did best: being paranoid.

*

A blast of the horn broke the quietness of the late evening. This one sounded different, louder and lower in pitch. From the crow’s nest, Blue could hear her shipmates on the island hollering something to each other that she couldn’t quite make out. Her attention went to them, scanning the island for anything of interest that might be able to spy from her perch. Nothing stuck out to her as yet more skeletons ran down the hill at them. One of them was decorated in relatively nice clothing and let the horde run past, swarming Z and Jackson while it hung back and took shots at them with a pistol. Something felt different about this one.

Blue had seen nothing on the horizon. The sloop they had chased off earlier had disappeared. Now the most pressing matter seemed to be helping the crew. She swung her musket into her grasp, taking aim at the pistol carrying skelly and pulling the trigger. This one did not immediately recoil like the others; it certainly meant business. It would be a fight to take this one and its swarm down.

Four more bullets Blue had and four more shots she took. In the time it took her to do that, Jackson and Z had cleared away most of the lesser skeletons that harassed them. Blue had finally put a dent in the captain, forcing it to momentarily yield. Like all the others, it reflectively chewed at a piece of fruit while it took cover. She was beginning to think it might have actually done something for them if they all did it. Whether or not it had any effect on them did not matter as her shipmates stormed the skelly in question, finishing it off before she could get down the crow’s nest’s ladder to resupply her ammunition. She was only aware of this because of their whooping.

It felt like something on the island had changed. With nothing spotted on the horizon, Blue decided that this was as good a time as any to head back onto land and see what was going on. It felt like her clothing had only just dried out and now she was getting it soaked again, swimming the same path she had hours ago. Her shipmates acted as though they had expected this, excitedly calling her over to join them. When she stopped before them, Z held out a circular object.

“Here. This’s yer first fort, isn’t?” he asked. She rose a brow at him and he kept talking. “You get the privilege’a openin’ the vault.”

She wasn’t certain about this, but he was insistent. “Very well.”

It was the key to open the vault door, she realised; the whole point of a vault was to lock something away. The key had certainly been held by the last skeleton they had vanquished, the one that perhaps oversaw all operations on this island. So that had been the end.

As they went up the hill to the building, Blue wondered if the time it took them to clear this place had been a good use of their energy. Their timing was good, the fortress had little time to broadcast its challenge to the rest of the Sea of Thieves, but she was tired. She could see that her shipmates were, too, and Z had fought off the entirety of this place. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t shake the realisation of how much easier it would be to steal the spoils from others who had done the work. It just made too much sense.

Stealing only made more sense when she placed the key into the vault door and saw what was behind it. There was an assortment of loot: crates of goods, treasure chests that hid away piles of gold, and skulls of skeletons that had met their end at some other point. All of the Trading Companies would pay good money for everything here if it were brought to them, especially the Merchant Alliance. She spied one of those ‘mega-kegs’ and she knew it would be worth more than the rest of the gunpowder stockpiled in the room.

No wonder pirates fought over these strongholds.

A noise caught her attention. If she didn’t know better, Blue would have guessed it was the sound of a firearm being roughly handled. She turned her head just in time to see the barrel of a gun before it was fired, igniting the gunpowder from a safe distance.

For a moment, it was bright and hot, and then there was nothing.

Notes:

Firstly, I’d like to mark that I have changed the title of this work to ‘Opposing Colours', as I feel it’s more suiting due to the eventual addition of future entries and it feels less placeholdery. Having the series in the title also felt redundant as the site has that feature built in.

Secondly, the work is now on SquidgeWorld as well as AO3, freshly cross-posted. I’m undecided about posting it elsewhere for now.

Thirdly, I quite enjoy this chapter. Lots of little things…

Chapter 12: Calming Winds

Summary:

Blue must once more question her current standing in life.

These visits to the Ferry of the Damned were becoming a habit. Curiosity compelled Blue to walk over to the Well of Fates and pluck a light from it. Red was a new one to her, but she remembered its meaning: fire. The event that had brought her here now came vividly to mind. She couldn’t believe her luck. She didn’t necessarily trust the men that she sailed with, but she believed that they were not threats to her. That didn’t seem to be the case anymore.

“Taken a trip to the Roar?” An older pirate sat in the empty cannon carriage, peering at her with some interest. Blue was less enthused.

“Something like that.”

The man laughed. “Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us. The Roar is unkind to us all.”

“I will keep that in mind,” she responded sharply. The door of the captain’s cabin swung open and she looked over to it. “I will be taking my leave now.”

“That’s a good idea, lady; y’might still need to help yer crew with the fires.”

She gave him a polite nod before making her way to the portal and stepped through.

*

Blue noticed a growing sense of unease. She realised she was hunched over a barrel, regaining her composure. She now recalled that there had been uncertainty in where she would find herself after stepping through the portal to the land of the living. Seeing that she was aboard the brigantine, she only felt confusion. There was no continuing deal, so there couldn’t have been anything to learn from… from the explosion? How odd. Why did that happen? A moment passed and she recalled someone shooting the stockpile, but why?

Once she felt up to it, she made her way towards the aft, up the stairs. She coughed hard, announcing her presence. Jackson greeted her at the top.

“Hey! Enjoy your trip?”

She glared and his giddy expression faltered.

“Told ya!” Z shouted from a vertical distance.

Certainly, there was more to this situation that Blue had initially thought. The lack of hostility, the men’s playfulness…

“Is someone going to explain what happened to me?” she asked as she strode properly onto the main-deck.

Z was busy sliding down the ladder from the crow’s nest so it was up to Jackson to explain.

“Anybody that sails with us gets that with their first fort that we get.”

“Uh huh,” Z chimed in.

Blue put her hands on her hips. “Is that so? And are you two aware of how valuable those stronghold powder kegs are?”

“Yeah, and how strong they are,” Z said mimicking her stance. “We don’t carry ‘em for that reason.”

At first, she wanted to chastise them. The so aptly nicknamed mega-kegs did pack quite a punch. Blue had never seen it in action before the galleon at Ancient Spire. When she had taken that shot, she expected a smaller explosion, one that would certainly knock the main-mast down, maybe the other two. Instead, a grand explosion had rocked the entire ship, allowing Z alone to finish off the crew and ensure the vessel sunk.

They were crude in their ways and jokes, but the men had been right: the stronghold keg would have been a liability.

“You have a point. But was it really necessary to blow me up with it?”

“Yes,” both of her shipmates declared.

She rolled her eyes. “Fine then.” She looked about, noting that they were stopped at a large island. “This is…?”

Z answered: “Lone Cove. It’s been two days.”

“Oh.” Though she was a little tired, it felt as though no time had passed. Blue wasn’t sure that she would ever get used to this phenomenon.

“We figured you’d like to be here when we sold instead of just taking our word for your cut,” Jackson said.

“Ah.” That she did indeed appreciate. She gave them a polite nod. Though… “Why have you turned back for Sanctuary? Dagger Tooth is closer to Hidden Spring Keep, is it not?”

“Mm, not quite. It’s usually a smoother ride with the waves, though,” Z commented.

“And we decided to turn back to Sanctuary in case anyone else showed up late.”

Blue rose a brow. “Really? By the way you spoke, I thought perhaps anyone that showed up so late would have to find something else to do with their time.”

Jackson laughed. “I’m not that heartless.”

“And I do actually have some business comin’ up ‘round Galleon’s Grave.”

Blue gave Z an incredulous look. After the initial lie he had given her, she wasn’t sure that she actually believed that. Then again…

“So we came out for only this little adventure?”

A small, nervous smile crossed Jackson’s face. “Yeah. It’s worth headin’ back to an outpost after clearing one of these forts anyway. You don’t get paid ‘til you turn it in.”

“Fair enough. That is a good idea.”

“Let’s get going then, eh?”

Despite the sense that the two made, Blue couldn’t shake the sensation of how strange it was that they would decide to end the voyage already. A conversation must have been had between them that she would need to hear to understand. She didn’t need to understand, however, and knew this. They had made their choice and she only wanted to tag along anyway. A short voyage shouldn’t bother her.

Z had all ready begun preparing the fore-mast, angling but not lowering it to catch the wind when they turned towards their destination. Before Jackson ducked downstairs, he motioned to the main-mast and asked her to do the same. She did so without comment, mirroring the fore-mast’s configuration.

“We will head straight for Sanctuary?” she asked.

“Uh huh. The gally’s finally left so we’ll have the outpost all to ourselves.”

She made a noise of acknowledgement to Z. It would be nice to be able to make their sales without the prying eyes of pirates. That was a nice thing about the Merchant Alliance — they were right there on the dock so no one had time to get any funny ideas. Blue cursed their assortment of treasures.

There was something funny about the wind, too. On the deck of the ship, it didn’t feel very strong. Glancing up at the Jolly Roger flag the ship flew, it only flicked about so much.

“Did the winds die down while I was away?”

“It’s been like this since the morning after. Don’t worry about it, the brig doesn’t need much.”

“This vessel is a fair bit heavier than a sloop…”

“And with more than double the sails.”

“And a shallower draft.”

Z paused for a moment. “Yeah.”

Blue wasn’t sure if he realised that she was now agreeing with him, or if she needed to explain what a draft was to him. Before she could decide which it was, Jackson was back on deck.

“Should we get goin’ then?”

Everyone agreed to that. It was too late in the afternoon to traverse the distance they needed to on a sloop, but as they had discussed, this was a brigantine; this ship would get there in a timely manner. It didn’t hurt that her shipmates didn’t seem to mind the darkness of night, either.

Soon enough, the call came out to lower the sails and they were off. Just as expected, the brig moved swiftly despite the mild winds, rocking gently over the waves. No, it would not take very long for them to get to the outpost. With these conditions, Blue expected they would get there some time before nightfall. Selling their goods would be an easy task if that was the case. She could only hope.

*

It seemed that Z was chronically attached to the brigantine’s bowsprit. Despite the advantages of having someone stood there at all times, Blue found herself annoyed by his position for reasons she couldn’t pinpoint. With him there, she stayed at the stern of the ship with Jackson. She leaned against the railing, got as comfortable as she could, and soon enough he seemed to take that as an invitation to talk to her.

“So how exactly did ya get on Z’s good side?”

“I am not sure I would say that. More like… we had an agreement. I brought him to Sanctuary Outpost in exchange for information. There was nothing more to it.”

He paused, thinking on her words. Then: “So how’d you two meet exactly then?”

Blue groaned. “That is… quite a story. I—”

“Hey!” Z hollered. “There’s some merms over at the shoreline.”

That got everyone’s attention. From what Blue understood, that meant that there was a pirate — or few — around. Jackson certainly knew. Both him and Z seemed on edge now, perhaps… excited? She wasn’t sure what exactly to make of their dispositions.

“We are not alone then?” she asked, just to be sure.

“Prob’ly not,” Z responded, rolling the fore-sail up.

“And what is your protocol for this?”

“We load ourselves into the cannons, fire off, an’ go look for stragglers ‘til we find ‘em or the merms go away.”

Blue just stared at him.

“What?”

“You really do not think about what you say, do you?”

Jackson was giving her a look similar to her own. She sighed and shook her head at him. Z made a face and looked away, no doubt trying not to laugh.

“It is nothing. That is a fine idea,” she quickly said, making her way to the cannons that Jackson was presenting to the island.

Z couldn’t help snickering. “Climb in, I’ll fire you off.”

“Uh huh.”

Some of the things he said just weren’t right. Still, Blue did as commanded. Climbing feet-first into a cannon was… awkward. It was strange how the cannons fired normal cannonballs but could easily accommodate an entire person, too. More strange was the comfort of her pockets full of fruit — she would be able to shrug off a rough landing, should it be.

The cannon was tilted upwards and then she was fired from it, exactly as was the plan. Flying through the air was a disorienting experience. The wind whipped violently past her face, attempting and nearly succeeding in both deafening and blinding her. Blue managed to keep her bearings enough to keep her feet pointed towards the earth, though landing was messy. Crumpling, she avoided any serious harm, rolling forwards until her momentum was spent and she bumped into a palm tree. The smell of sand was more welcoming now than ever before.

With a splash, she heard Z land nearby in the shallowest of water. She got to her feet, hopefully before he could spy her in the brush. He strode with a casual gait, weapons sheathed. Blue thought this strange but decided against inquiring openly. Perhaps the idea was to not give away that they were searching for whoever was certainly lurking about, but surely the way they had approached the island had already done that.

Though she mimicked Z and strode into the weaponsmith’s shop to look for anyone who did not belong, Blue was at a loss. She found nothing amiss and bid the shopkeeper farewell, her hand now resting on her cutlass’s grip.

Z had checked the shipwright’s area, and presumably her sloop nearby, and was now busy fussing about the dilapidated building that was above the Order of Souls’ tent. Next he would check the Gold Hoarders’ little tent as it was nearby. Blue would check the equipment shop. Once again, she greeted the shopkeeper, made the smallest amount of idle conversation that she could and looked about the building. It, too, was clean.

They ended up meeting just outside the clothing store. Blue had checked it as well and found nothing amiss.

“Any luck?”

“None. The shops are all clean.”

He nodded. “Go back t’ the dock and help Jack start comin’ in. I’ll check the tavern and see if that’s clear. Whoever’s here is well hidden. That or the merms are bein’ frisky t’day.”

As per usual, his phrasing was strange, though Blue found herself questioning his line of thinking more than she usually did. Call the ship in before they had properly cleared the island? She kept her concerns to herself as she made her way to the pier, waving their brigantine in. Jackson waved back in acknowledgement and began moving the ship again. She watched for only a moment. Surely Jackson could manage to dock it himself…

With that in mind, Blue turned and made her way inland again. Z had gone to clear the tavern of any rivals, so she went there first. Inside, it was empty save for the barmaid behind the counter who was busy cleaning a few tankards. Nothing seemed to have been disturbed, either; in fact, the spacious room looked as though it had recently been cleaned up. Absolutely nothing was amiss here.

Strangely, there was a lack of a shipmate here, too. Blue wondered if he was checking the surroundings of the building and stepped back outside to look. She cleared the perimeter twice over before coming to the conclusion that he was not there, either.

In the middle of Sanctuary Outpost was a large rock formation. On one side, the tavern had been built up against it; on the other was nothing of note. There were plenty of hiding places, though they offered no visibility towards the dock. If someone was determined, she supposed one might hide in that area. Upon investigating it, she found no signs of unwanted company or her missing shipmate.

Now Blue was at a loss of what to think. As far as she could tell — and she was certain she had done a good job of scouring the area — there was no one here but her own crew. Also as far as she could tell, Z had disappeared and there were no signs of what might have happened to him. Jackson seemed entirely unperturbed, calmly docking the brigantine so that they could offload their goods.

As she was passing the tavern, Z stepped out. She stopped, spinning on her heel to give him an incredulous look. He seemed confused.

“What?”

“Where were you?”

“At the bar. It’s clear in there. Did y—”

“I looked; you were not in there.”

He shrugged. “Did you check behind th—”

“Yes, I did.”

“Alright, we’re clear then. Just a bunch’a fish people bein’ weird.”

Blue stared at him for a moment. “And that is… a normal thing to say here.”

He chuckled. “Uh huh.”

She sighed and the two of them made their way back to the ship together. She had been in and around that building — he had not been there. It was a ridiculous notion for him to tell her that wasn’t the case, but she let it go. Arguing the point would get them nowhere with how stubborn he was.

“Start grabbin’ stuff and let’s get it sold,” Jackson told them as he passed by on the dock, a massive golden chest in his arms.

Blue thought he looked ridiculous, but that chest was probably full of gold. She pretended to not notice Z grabbing another and hauling it onto the dock, instead opting to grab a crate of tea. That was much lighter, and the point of sale was far closer. Both men gave her a look as she made idle talk with the Trader and opted to focus on selling the rest of their Merchant goods. No one said anything to one another with Blue busying herself and the men hauling the heaviest items the furthest. She didn’t loiter, though, and once those goods were sold, she grabbed a skull in each hand and ferried them to the purple tent.

The skulls were… unsettling. They were not new items to her; she had come across a few stray skulls in her travels, but they still made her skin crawl. Holding the whispering heads of those who had been cursed, bested in combat, and then sold like a sack of sugar would never stop being weird to her. Blue didn’t have the heart to ask what the Order of Souls did with them. The money didn’t hurt, either, though that also rose some questions.

Selling everything they had taken some time. Some of the things that they had sold were… not impressive. When the three of them were sat in the tavern putting the money they’d earned together, Blue was astonished to find that the Gold Hoarders had paid the least for their items.

“They are greedy bastards,” Z commented. “Each and every one’a them. They’re all cursed t’ show it, too.”

“And you insist that the chests cannot be opened via any means but their keys?”

The both of them chimed, “Uh huh.”

“Then why would anyone work for them?”

“Beats me. I guess some people just like gettin’ their hands dirty,” Jackson reasoned.

“And not in any of the fun ways,” Z clarified.

Blue gave him a look, then decided against asking. “Everything we obtained for the Merchant Alliance and Order were worth so much more.” Z shrugged and so did Jackson after downing his current tankard of grog. “There is no point worrying ourselves over the poor payment of the Gold Hoarders, is there? Business with them seems quite necessary.”

“Yeah. They’re all awful t’ deal with, though.”

“Mm. Now then, how are our totals looking?”

“Pretty good, actually,” Z stated, hands still fiddling over the many pouches of coins. “Do we split after counting every one’a them or roughly?”

Jackson shifted, looking at her as though he wanted to say something. Blue quickly voiced her vote: “Roughly.”

“Works for me.”

Z seemed pleased about the little amount of effort he had to exert to separate all the pouches into three piles. “Rough it is, then,” he said, pushing the piles to each respective crew member.

Blue had never seen this much gold from one single payout. She quietly admired it, chin resting in her palm. The other two had feverishly pocketed their shares.

“So I think I messed up,” Jackson declared after a time.

Z shifted. “What?”

“I think I might’ve told the others to meet up at Golden Sands.”

Blue and Z stared at him for a moment. Z laughed. Blue was less amused for the sake of whoever the others might have been.

“That seems problematic.”

“Right?” Jackson snickered. “I feel kinda bad about it.”

“That’s why I always ask you twice where we’re meetin’ up,” Z said.

“Yeah, I remember now. You asked if I meant Golden Sands when I said Sanctuary. I was so annoyed that I doubled down on Sanctuary.”

“We do us’ally meet down south. All the smarties are down in the Ancient Isles or the Roar. Things are quiet up here.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Blue looked between them. The conversation hadn’t gone anywhere. “Make your point, please.”

“You guys mind if I head down there on my own? I feel awful I left ‘em down there waiting, if they’re still there.”

“Who all’d you tell?” Z inquired.

“Mark and Ry. Told ‘em to bring friends if they wanted, or their ladies.”

Blue tilted her head. “You may have quite the crowd down there then.”

“Yeah, yeah I just might. So do you guys mind? You two have a sloop already and the brig might be crowded if they both showed up and brought someone along.”

Blue recoiled slightly. Did he think she and Z were friends? She wanted to laugh and ridicule him; she refrained. Z spoke first.

“Go then. Y’re the one that screwed up.”

“I only screwed up ‘cause’a you!”

The both of them laughed.

“I suppose we should clean the ship up before you leave then,” Blue reasoned.

The men nodded in agreement and then the three of them were on their feet. Blue finally pocketed her gold before following them out. Getting off the brigantine sounded like a good idea; she couldn’t get comfortable on it. She was sure that these shipmates of hers posed no real danger to her now, but that was just the problem: they posed a danger to other sailors. The idea of fighting that second sloop still made her bones itch.

Blue struggled to not look eager to leave the bigger ship as she moved her belongings back to her sloop. As she did, she glanced at every little dark corner, uncertain that it was free of stowaways. If anyone was here, they were very patient, though for what at that point concerned her even more.

“Is that everything?” Jackson asked her as she packaged her bedding. She tightened the last of the strings before she answered him.

“I am certain that this is the last of it.”

He nodded to her and then made his way up to the main-deck. Blue followed him shortly after, hopping onto the dock and then into her sloop’s quarter-deck with minor glee. The brigantine was fast, capable, but it also felt so cramped and unrefined. It lacked the comforts that she had painstakingly equipped the smaller ship with, something that Blue was surprised she missed so much. Perhaps she was more tired than she realised.

Once again, she made sure that no one lurked in the darker parts of the ship as she ducked into the hold, putting her secondary bedding away in its proper chest. She spied the items that Z had left under the grog barrel and scowled; was he that lazy? She rolled her eyes and went back up to the dock.

Z and Jackson had just pulled away from each other’s embrace, finishing a short conversation that she hadn’t bothered to listen in on. The latter then turned his attention to her and she offered a hand and they shook.

“Good sailin’ with you. Perhaps we can do this again under better circumstances.”

Not on that little thing , Blue wanted to say. “Perhaps so.” Whether either of them could tell that she was just being polite, she didn’t care. She hadn’t been overly fond of this experience and only did so much to hide it now.

“Alright then, I’d better be off.”

“Uh huh, right, off with you!” Z teased. The both of them laughed and Blue added her own polite chuckle.

Jackson took a step back and waved to them before jumping from the pier to the brigantine. He went from the fore-sail to the stern of the ship, managing the two masts with an expertise that only came from often being alone on a ship of that sort. The sails caught wind and the ship rapidly gained speed. A quick wave was all everyone was allotted by that point.

“Hm.”

After what seemed like an eternity, the brigantine was far enough away that it was no longer impolite to turn away and get back to herself. First order of business was to change into something more respectable now that she was back at her own sloop. Blue didn’t have the energy for a dress though and settled instead for a more masculine outfit not unlike what the three of them had been wearing, but with far more colour.

Her mind weighed heavily on the experience. The last week or so was dragging her down, swirling about her head. Had it only been that long? Blue hesitated at the mid-deck, considering her next move. Her gold was kept on her person and she grabbed her logbook and a pencil before going up. It would be helpful to go over all of her thoughts and organise the new ones.

Back on the dock, Z only moved when her feet connected with the planks. She saw him turn to look at her, though she couldn’t stand to look back, instead heading up the pier to the island.

“Hey, where are—”

Her hand went up to silence him. “I am getting a room, and I am getting some proper rest.”

Chapter 13: Opportunities

Summary:

Z is pleasantly surprised that Blue doesn’t leave him at the outpost the next morning, but that doesn’t stop him from pushing his luck.

Z spent the evening atop the shipwright’s building. He could have gotten a room at The George and Kraken, but that would have made it so much easier to miss Blue in the morning. It had been rude of her to wave him off the way she did; they weren’t friends , but he still expected better. Getting to Galleon’s Grave via her sloop would require another clever deal or some very honeyed words.

Sleeping had been an easy task with his sleep deprivation. He still woke early and after he rubbed his eyes clean, he was pleased to see that the sloop was still there. After that, his mind raced: Blue was always up early so he had little time to consider how to sell his ideas to her about keeping him aboard. They didn’t like each other, but he didn’t hate her and that was good enough in his book. Besides, she might just appreciate his plans in the Wilds.

“Hey. Hey!”

Coming down the dock, Blue paused, whipping around to look in his direction. It took another moment for her to look up, bewildered.

“What the hell are you doing up there?”

“Gettin’ some mornin’ sun. Hey, y’ headin’ out t’ the Wilds next?” he asked as he worked his way down.

“I am heading anywhere you are not.”

“Alright, but y’ should head t’ the Wilds.”

“If you think for even a moment that you are setting foot on my sloop again—”

“Y’ don’t like that John guy too much, do ya?”

Blue paused, giving him yet another astonished look. She cleaned her face up and then asked, “What of him?”

“He and his ships came from up here, right? So after goin’ through the Ancient Isles, they’re gonna be headin’ back up t’ the Wilds. We—”

“Morrow’s Peak is closer than the Wilds.”

“Y're not wrong but those ships were way too clean; there’s no way they go t’ the Roar.”

Blue stared at him for a moment before she crossed her arms, staying silent.

“So, we head out there, meet ‘em there—”

“You are not suggesting that we take on a fleet of three galleons.”

“I am. It’d be easy. We grab some gunpowder barrels from a fort on our way over—”

“Absolutely not,” Blue said so sternly that he knew she would not be persuaded. Still…

“It’s a fine plan.”

“I like my ship floating , thank you very much.”

“Sure… but y’ like gold more, don’t you?”

She narrowed her eyes at him; he couldn’t help a whisper of a smirk.

“Come on, you saw how much money we made off that fort. Now imagine only splittin’ it in half. Don’t tell me y’ really want t’ go back t’ shippin’ cargo ‘round for the Merchant Alliance for a few measly little coins.”

“It is safe, steady income.”

“It’s a little income.”

She scoffed. “Make your point.”

“Two is better than one.”

She made such an offensively offended noise that he was surprised she didn’t just spit on him.

“No, really, think about it,” he said, hands up to motion for her to relax. “One minds the ship, one boards the galleons and causes a little mischief while the other keeps the ship good and outta danger and fires the cannons. Even one of those gallies would be a big payout. And if y’ really don’t want t’ go attack that alliance, we’re still better off workin’ together at anythin’ else. Y’ can move double the loot, do it half the time, do twice the things, watch two angles on the horizon—”

“You have made your point.”

“So?”

She took some time to think and in that time Z wasn’t totally convinced that she wasn’t considering spitting on him. Then she sighed and he could hardly believe his ears.

“Get on the sloop.”

“Wha— really?”

“Do not think for a moment that this means I will tolerate your ‘mischief’ like I did before.”

“Alright, fine. De—”

“No deal this time. We act like civilised people and ask questions, split the chores aboard the ship, and respect one another.” She leaned forward slightly, eyeing him harshly. “Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“On the ship then.”

He nodded, taking great care to restrain himself from letting a toothy grin shine through his calm demeanour. His hop onto the ship’s mid-deck had a little more height than it needed and he was quite happy to be back on this quaint little ship. Blue wasn’t his first choice of shipmate, but he’d rather have her than be stuck on an outpost waiting for another ship to stow away on.

*

Z was learning that his shipmate was just about as fussy as he had thought initially, but there was a method to her madness.

“You and I have very different opinions of what potentials another ship may offer us,” she had announced shortly after they left Sanctuary Outpost. “You will decide what we do about the first ship we come across, then I will decide what we do with the ship after, then you the next, and so on. Within reason, of course. We will not be attacking any fleets of galleons, for example. Neither will we be attacking anyone’s friends.”

That seemed fair. It was more than Z had hoped for considering how battle-shy she was. There was always a reason to anything she did, even if he didn’t think it was a good one. If they were going to sail together for any period of time, they would both have to compromise.

Besides that, it was agreed upon that they would be stopping at any island with a known source of fresh water while they made their way to the Wilds and always. Drinking something besides grog and rum was nice and Blue apparently liked to keep everything clean, including the crew. They made a habit of running supplies wherever they could, including from flotsams, but especially at these islands, keeping the fruit fresh and the planks free of holes. Blue seemed to enjoy this new routine.

They spent part of a day and the following night at Lone Cove, then found themselves at Hidden Spring Keep once again. Their rattled nerves were something that neither of them vocalised and they slept in shifts that night. Come morning, Z had fallen back to sleep on the quarter-deck of the sloop, nestled in a corner where the canvas back began. It was the sound of light splashing that woke him and he was glad to see Blue pulling a splashtail from the water.

“Breakfast?”

“Breakfast.”

He stayed where he was, stretching and rubbing at the soreness of his neck.

“Have you made it a habit to fall asleep anywhere?” he heard her ask from downstairs.

“It’s a gift.”

He sat there and listened to the fish fry. It was nice to not be awoken by skellies this time around, even if he was still somewhat nervous.

“There is something on my mind,” he heard Blue ask from the mid-deck. He made a noise to show that he was listening. “How will you know where to meet your friends next time?”

He grit his teeth. It would’ve been smart to talk about that before Jackson had sailed off.

“We’ll figure it out, meet up by chance somewhere or maybe on the Ferry .”

“Hm.” It seemed his answer had given her something to think about. Then: “What fruit do you want?”

“Got any of those solid coconuts?”

She made a soft snorting noise. While she got their food ready, he sat himself up on the canvas properly. Shortly after, Blue appeared, plate in hand; it held the fish she had just caught, now fried to a crisp, a tankard of grog for each of them, and the requested coconut. She sat somewhat near him and picked the nearly burnt fins off the fish.

“That is the last one,” she stated as he greedily chewed at the sphere. “We will have to search other islands that pirates do not frequent to find more.”

He mumbled an agreement, gulping down grog.

“We will also need to properly clean the food barrels out properly. All that fruit is beginning to get old.”

“Better t’ have it and not need it than t’ need it and not have it.”

“Fair. However, it is still threatening to turn into moonshine and take the fish with it.”

He snickered at that one.

Breakfast was a habit that Z was happy to learn from his shipmate, as was regular sleep. Blue was overly fussy and he would never stop thinking that she needed to loosen up some, but her need to keep everything clean and organised did make the ship a breeze to be on. It didn’t hurt that their supplies were easily accessed, that there was always fish and good fruit to eat. Now if only he could get her to laugh every once in a while, and not at him.

From Hidden Spring Keep, they went east and stayed at the island within the K9 coordinate. Once again they made some idle chit-chat about the island, as well as two other uncharted islands to the south. All three of them were in the centre of the Sea of Thieves and Blue could not believe that no organisation hadn’t claimed them.

“If I ran a business, I would settle it on one of these islands so it would be a fair distance from the entire Sea,” Blue had said. That got stuck in his head.

From K9, they went to Dagger Tooth Outpost. It seemed to Z that they would do the same thing there: rest, freshen up the supplies, clean the barrels while they were at it, and then leave the next morning. Instead, while they sat and ate yet another disappointing breakfast from the kitchen, Blue asked him a question.

“Why are you so insistent about the fleet?”

Z could hardly believe that she was asking that. He picked his fork back up and shook his head.

“I already told ya. They must have a ridiculous amount of treasure aboard. Even if it’s all jus’ deliveries, we could take ‘em and get paid instead.”

“You have shown no love for the Merchant Alliance’s deliveries.”

“They go from outpost t’ outpost, right? So if we—”

“Not always.”

“—catch ‘em before they reach Galleon’s Grave then we wouldn’t have t’ go hardly anywhere t’ make those deliveries. Eh?”

Blue rolled her eyes and decided the ceiling was interesting to look at. “You would have to be lucky enough to take any of the ships out, recover undamaged goods, and need to deliver them somewhere nearby. It is an uncertain plan. It is also absolutely mad.”

“I took out that gally at Thieves’ Haven on my own. What’s two more?”

“I do not think that running from a galleon counts. When you had to fight them, you got me involved.”

“Alright, perfect. We can definitely take on three of them then.”

“ No ,” she growled.

It was very hard to not laugh. Yes, a sloop taking on a fleet was a ridiculous idea, but he had taken worse odds and come out the victor.

“‘Sides, I took that gally’s treasure and sold it myself. That’s a win.”

“Is it?”

Before she could say more, he held his hand up to present the original purse he had traded that chest for back at Plunder Outpost.

“I still haven’t spent all this and it ain’t fer lack’a tryin’. One chest gave me all this gold.”

Blue placed a hand on the side of her face and leaned into it lazily. “Impressive, but… was it really worth losing your sloop like that?”

“Absolutely.”

“Hm.”

“Now, what about all yer not wantin’ to fight thing? Why are we both decidin’ what to do ‘bout other ships?”

“Because it is fair. You pirates like your democracies, do you not?”

He leaned back.

“You like to vote on matters at hand and include the whole crew in that vote.”

“I guess that’s how most ships are ran.”

“Hm.” Blue pushed a piece of scrambled egg around and he got the feeling that she was thinking very hard about something.

“What’s on yer mind?”

“Most crews take their votes seriously and everyone matters, correct?” He nodded. “That is not how that fleet is ran. If… if a reasonable opportunity presented itself, I would not mind seeing those galleons sink to the seafloor. But they are three ships to our little one.”

Z was surprised to hear the viciousness in her tone. He didn’t disagree with it — everyone was supposed to be equal to one another. That was the whole point of these waters, that everyone could do whatever they wanted and be whatever they wanted. Mostly. A ship dynamic like that just wasn’t right.

“What about makin’ life difficult for ‘em?”

“What do you mean?”

“Fleets move slow, right? If I’m right and they do go t’ Galleon’s Grave, we’ll meet ‘em there. At night, we’ll sneak aboard the ships and take whatever we can while they offload everythin’.”

It was subtle, but he saw her eyes light up.

“… hmm. We would inflict no direct harm upon anyone while simultaneously reducing the fleet’s earnings and increasing our own.”

“Exactly.”

“It is a good idea.”

“Thought you might like that one.”

“Shall we get going then?”

That had been an easy agreement. It was early in the day when they left and the wind was in the favour so they made good time to Galleon’s Grave Outpost. Why the two outposts of the Wilds were so close to each other, he would never know.

As they closed in on the outpost, they agreed to go around the northern side of the island. From there, they would use one of the two massive peaks to hide the sloop from view at the main dock. Once the ship was properly stopped, they climbed those peaks for a vantage point to search for the fleet.

“So it is a galleon,” Blue said after a time.

He turned to her, quizzical. “It’s Galleon’s Grave.”

“Yes, but how did a ship that large get here?”

He paused. Never before had he thought about it. How did a galleon get stuck up here? He forced the thought away with a shrug.

“Anyway, I see the fleet t’ the south. I was right: they haven’t got here yet. They’re nowhere close.”

“Fleets do move slowly…”

He motioned to the very distant ships. “When do you think they’ll get here?”

She pulled her spyglass from her pocket and observed the ships for herself. “We have perhaps a day. These Merchants do not like to sail at night. Though, if they are running behind schedule…”

“Y’re sure?”

“Fairly. It would not be a bad idea to take shifts tonight to track them and make sure we are awake before they arrive should they gain a fairer wind.”

He nodded. For once, his shipmate was thinking like a pirate and he was glad for it. They stood to make a lot of money off this heist and his excitement threatened to get the better of him.

“Let’s get somethin’ t’ eat while we can.”

Blue made a noise of agreement. “You can pay this time.”

He gave an exaggerated groan. “Fine.”

*

While Blue excelled at staying awake, sleep came easily to Z so he slept while she took first watch. When she woke him, it was at the precise time they had agreed upon.

“They look to have furled most of their sails for the night,” she reported before getting her own rest.

A galleon had more sails than a brigantine and thus move that much faster in the right conditions. Those conditions had not been met and the ships instead moved at a slow but steady pace. When they would arrive, Z could not say. He trusted Blue’s estimation of upward to a day but knowing it could be that long just made the anticipation worse.

The sun rose and once it was bright, that was his cue to wake Blue if she didn’t rouse on her own. She didn’t, and he wasn’t quite sure how to wake her without making her grouchy, but that was probably going to be the case no matter what he did. He shook her shoulder and was unsurprised by her groaning, shuffling to hide her face in the canvas, and the weak acknowledgement a moment later.

“You should get up; I’m gonna get some more sleep.”

She groaned further and adjusted her position. Z wasn’t convinced that she would actually get up but he had done his part. He got a few more hours of sleep before waking on his own, having slept through Blue getting up and whatever else. When he got up and inspected the ship, he found her missing from it. A quick glance at the island from there did not reveal her. A coconut was quickly devoured to silence his stomach before he disembarked to search the island.

Despite his concern, it was easy enough to find Blue. She had sat herself down on the main dock of the island, book and pen in her lap. He stopped beside her, waiting to be acknowledged as he usually did when she was buried in her writings. After she wrote another full page, she finally acknowledged him, looking up for a moment and then back to her book.

“You were snoring. Loudly.”

“Oh.”

“I have never heard anything like it before.”

Z made a face. “Anyway…”

“They will be here by nightfall. That is perfect for us, correct?”

“Correct. If y’ change into yer black clothes.”

“Of course. In the meantime, shall we consider what it is that we are stealing?”

“Uh, anythin’ y’ can get yer hands on?”

“No,” she said, disappointed. “Some of the goods that the fleet transports are worth far more than others. Crates of spices and silks are always worth more than the pleasantries they may carry. Crates of plants, rum, and plain cloth are the most oftenly ran goods and all will be paid the same rate for as it is the timely transport that the Merchants pay for. They should sell those first to be assured the highest rate so they will not be worth risking ourselves for. We will search for items that are not time-sensitive while they are busy with those.”

“Got it.” It seemed Blue’s expertise was going to be useful here. “Spices and silks?”

“Primarily, yes. As trusted trading vessels, they may also have cargo that you have not seen before. I could not tell you what those raw materials could be worth, here or anywhere else.”

“Here or anywhere else?”

“Yes. The value of the raw materials differs at every outpost. They will be in unremarkable brown crates so they will be easy to tell apart from the usual goods. I would not bother with them unless we can make use of the material itself.”

“Got it. So we’re focusin’ on spices, silks, and anythin’ useful?”

“Precisely.”

He nodded in agreement, then asked, “What do we do in the meantime?”

Blue gave him a small shrug. “I have plenty to do. That is your problem.”

He gave her an over-exaggerated sigh before turning and heading back to the ship.

*

Most of the day passed before the fleet was close enough for the duo to begin readying themselves for their nighttime excursion. Blue exchanged her floofy dress for the sleek black shirt and leggings of the brigantine voyage and carried nothing but her cutlass and dagger. Z required little more than for the ships to arrive, deciding to stick to his usual cutlass-blunderbuss combination.

In the evening light, they lurked in the shadow of the east side of the island and watched the ships come to the dock. Just as before at Ancient Spire Outpost, they took their time as the first ship pressed its side flush against the pier, and then the other two ships lined up alongside it so that cargo could be ferried across the decks. The sound of Johnathan yelling for the manifest to be double-checked confirmed that the fleet would be going over everything before selling them. Once more, Z stood by Merchant ships and watched them move their goods around. At least this time he would be taking some.

Turning to Blue, he looked to make sure she was ready. When she acknowledged him, he started off to the ships, quietly entering the water and slowly swimming just below the surface. The ship furthest in the water was the least busy; when they climbed aboard, they discovered that there was in fact no one tending to it at all. The goods of the closest ship seemed to have the entire fleet crew busy. Free to move about the ship, the two made their way downstairs to the lowest deck, moving low and quietly.

Knowing exactly what she was after, Blue quickly found something worthwhile. Z inspected the goods alongside her. There were many crates of silks and cloths in the stack to choose from; the problem was figuring out what to take. Blue had already picked out a crate of red and yellow silks. She stepped aside so he could grab one himself. The colour blue was uncommon and one crate was an especially striking shade. His shipmate didn’t seem opposed to his selection, not that he expected her to be.

They started back up the stairs, moving carefully. There was still no one on the first-deck and when he poked his head out of the open hatch, Z spotted no one on the main-deck, nor anyone from any of the other ships paying any mind to their direction. Staying low, he made his way to the ladder on the ship’s free side and slipped back into the water. A moment later, Blue joined him and they made their way back to the eastern shore, their tiny splashing covered by the chatter on deck. From there, they went around the island to the sloop and stashed their goods before turning back for more.

When they went back to the galleon, Blue investigated another pile of goods. This one was not cloths, instead emanating a pleasant scent he could not identify without closer inspection. He was certain that the crates with green labelling were tea based on their smell; the white ones were sugar, a commodity that wasn’t nearly as valuable as he thought it ought to be. Then again, all of it was imported from outside the Sea of Thieves where labour was cheap, or worse.

Blue pointed out a few crates that were adorned with dark colours. An assortment of scents came from these crates, the primary one that he could determine to be peppercorns. When he bent his knees to pick one up with her, he had to stifle a sneeze. These crates were taken in a similar manner to those before them.

A few more times did the two of them do this, finding crates that seemed valuable and ferrying them away. There were not many crates of spices and taking them all would have alerted the crew too soon to their misdeeds, so they focused on the silks and some fine cloth. Blue favoured the brightest colours when she chose her crates and he wasn’t entirely convinced that it was because they were more valuable.

Soon enough, the hold of the sloop was crowded with Merchant goods. Rather than go back again, they looked at each other, apparently having come to the same conclusion at the same time: this was enough.

“Shall we leave now?”

“Before they spot anythin’ missin’? Sounds good t’ me.”

They nodded and Blue made her way to the map table, looking over the islands to their north and gaining an annoyed expression.

“We have quite a lot of travelling to do,” she said.

“We can start back towards Dagger Tooth then.”

“The wind and waves would be against us.”

“That works better for us than the galleons.”

“Hm.” She considered those words, then nodded. “A long sail through the night to The Sunken Grove it is, then.”

Z withheld a laugh for the sake of stealth. “Y’re not gettin’ sleepy on me yet, are ya?”

“Not yet. But when we—”

“I know, when we get out t’ sea and there ain’t anythin’ to do but sail, then ye’ll want to sleep.”

She glowered but nodded nonetheless. “Shall we get moving then?”

*

Under the cover of darkness, the sloop left Galleon’s Grave undetected. The two of them were quiet until they got what felt like a relatively safe distance away from the fleet before celebrating properly. Blue seemed alarmed when he grabbed her and picked her up for a spin, but she didn’t scold him so it couldn’t have been that bad. They had made out with such a great selection of stolen loot that neither’s mood could be soured. As expected, however, Blue’s fatigue set in once their excitement ran down.

“I need to sleep. Once we are both rested, we’ll go through everything,” she had said. That had been just fine by Z; she had a better idea of what they had taken. His purse was still very full from his previous two excursions; he could wait a bit longer to fill it further.

Morning came and they still had not reached their destination. At this point, Z’s exhaustion was becoming impossible to fight against; he was very pleased to see his shipmate back on deck soon after. A cold, dry splashtail was split between them before they traded places and he rested for what remained of the morning. The ship had just stopped at The Sunken Grove when he was back up, rubbing his face free of sleep.

“Good afternoon.”

He didn’t even bother looking up at Blue on the quarter-deck, groaning some. A tankard of grog sounded good at that moment.

“Are you ready to go through—”

“Jesus, woman, gimmie some time t’ wake up right.”

“—Or that.” She made a noise that he was certain was her withholding a laugh if her hands were anything to go by. “Coconut or grog?”

“How ‘bout both?” he muttered with some amount of annoyance. Despite that, Z was not surprised — quite thankful in fact — when both were offered to him a few minutes later. He had sat down against a cannon and Blue sat across from him against the other one, poking at the dry half of the coconut with a metal spoon.

The two ate their launch in quiet company. All the liquid he had been given had refreshed his mind and body quite readily, so waiting until his shipmate was finished was aggravating.

“Have you looked over anything yet?” he asked.

“Not yet. We have been here only a little longer than you have been awake. I thought you might like to learn how to gauge the prices of trade goods.”

“Ehh, not that much.”

She chuckled. “It is enough to know to grab silks and spices then, is it?”

“Yeah.”

“Fair enough.” A pause as she looked him over, then: “Are you finished?”

Z had been chewing at his coconut, silently appreciating not having to crack it open with his teeth. Sure, it would then heal any damage he suffered, but avoiding it in the first place was nice.

“Ready enough,” he said, wolfing down the remains.

Blue tossed her empty husk off the ship as she stood and led the way down to the hold. True to her word, she hadn’t touched anything and the minor disturbances of the crates had come from sailing against rough water.

“So what have we got?” he asked.

“The two spice crates alone should fetch a fair amount of coin. All the silk will be even more.” She pulled one crate away from the others, one of the red and yellow ones. “This will be useful.”

“Why?”

“As I told you before, that tatty old thing attached to the mast is not this ship’s sail. That was torn in a battle some weeks ago and I have only now found enough appropriately coloured silk to mend it with.”

“With silk?”

“It is a very fine sail.”

He stared at her for a moment before shrugging. “Alright then. So we’ll get some fat pouches of coin out of this and ye’ll be able t’ fix yer sail.”

“Yes. Raiding that hold will be quite the boon to my sail and our pockets. In the meantime…” She crossed her arms and considered her words. “We should continue to put distance between us and the fleet.”

“Back to Sanctuary then?”

“How about Dagger Tooth? Then we sail more northerly?”

He chuckled. “Fine. Are we leaving right away?”

“I see no reason to linger here. Do you?”

He shook his head.

“Then we will use this fair weather to travel.”

Chapter 14: The Forlorn Phoenix

Summary:

Even something as simple as sailing can turn into an adventure, or worse.

With their stolen goods in hand, the sloop stopped at Dagger Tooth Outpost. Blue and Z were both astonished by how much their thievery paid out, if for their own reasons. They considered spending some of their earnings there and decided against it, avoiding the outpost’s kitchen and spending the night on the ship. Then they continued out of the Wilds.

Per Blue’s request, they headed more northerly this time, avoiding K9 and instead reaching the skeletal stronghold of Kraken Watchtower. Despite it seemingly void of skellies, after Hidden Spring, they did a full sweep of the island just to be sure. Z even dug at a few spots where the dirt looked recently disturbed. Fortunately, the island appeared to be entirely abandoned, so they spent the rest of the day and night there.

After, they travelled further north to a small island. It was still morning when they reached it so they had plenty of time to sit and do just about nothing.

“This is Scurvy Isley, correct?” Blue asked at one point in the evening while she was sitting with a book.

“Scurvy Isle, yeah,” he’d replied.

There was no way that Z could have predicted the argument that the little island would spawn. Blue insisted that the island was called Scurvy Isley, with another ‘ ee ’ noise at the end of the second word. He had never heard it called anything but what he had said, but she was so insistent that he yielded shortly after they went back and forth a few times. If she wanted to call an island something that no one else called it, she was welcome to make herself happy. It was not worth getting worked up about.

From the little island on the edge of the Wilds, they finally went in a proper westerly direction towards the Shores of Plenty. Picaroon Palms was their nighttime destination, another small island. Or it would have been, had they not been distracted while crossing the channel.

“Do you hear that?”

Laid back on the deck, Z lifted his head to better listen. It took a moment for him to figure it out.

“Aw, shit.”

Before he could get to his feet, a gigantic purple shark breached the water’s surface behind the sloop. He heard Blue swear as she leapt into action, grabbing cannonballs. She did not react with the violent alarm he expected out of her, so he didn’t think that this was her first encounter with a megalodon. If it was, she was doing an incredible job of staying relatively calm.

“We should keep movin’ in case it doesn’t attack,” he declared, fiddling with a cannon. “You take left, I got right,” he added, already loading his determined cannon. Blue grunted an affirmation.

“There’s a spare blunderbuss in the cabinet if you like,” she said.

It took a moment, but Z decided that yes, he would like to have a second gun on his person right now. Shooting the beast when it was out of cannon range would do little to dissuade it, but it still seemed to do something and that was good enough for him.

“Have you fought one of these before?” Z asked for clarification. He needed to know what she knew.

“I had one follow me across the channel once, but never did it attack.”

“But you understand the idea? Shoot it, shoot it more when it charges, and don’t stop until it dies?”

“That seems reasonable,” she conceded.

With an intent gaze, the megalodon circled the sloop. Whether it would follow them until they were out of its territory or attempt to defend it with violence was yet to be determined. Z hated that one could never be certain how these creatures would behave. At least the little ones were always hungry.

Once more the great animal circled them, then a deep growl came from it and it flicked its multi-pointed tail, twisting around directly at the sloop, maw gaping. It came at Z’s side so there was no need to say anything, only fire the already loaded cannon. He managed a few shots and the beast faltered, shaking its head and diving beneath the ship.

It was gunfire that caught his attention. Without another cannon pointed at their adversary, Blue had shot it with her musket. It was better than nothing.

“Can you hit the eyes?”

“I am trying to… It moves very quickly.”

From the quarter-deck, Blue reloaded her gun and brought it up against her shoulder again. Z thought this was a good idea; perhaps she would be able to blind it and it would leave them alone. He didn’t sit around to see if that would be the case and moved to the other cannon. The beast was circling them once again, moving in and out of cannon range. He took his shots when he could.

“Pull the sail,” he called out when he could no longer aim once again. Blue seemed to consider his words for a moment but did as told. Z was thankful for that; now it would move more predictably.

With his aim improved, Z had no issues dissuading the megalodon from biting the sloop’s other side. Despite knowing his aim was true, the sight of the it charging was heart-stopping. Consistent shots from Blue raised some questions.

“Havin’ trouble landin’ a shot in the eyes?”

She paused and took a breath in to steady herself. “I am sure I have not missed every shot. I think it is too big to care.”

He twisted his lips. She was probably right; it was larger than the sloop was. Even if she landed a good shot in one eye, it still had three more to see with.

“Keep doin’ what y’re doin’,” he told her as he grabbed more cannonballs. She grunted an affirmation.

They repeated this once more, the Goliath of a shark circling around the sloop, trying to charge into it and being beaten away by cannon fire. Z made a point to shoot it with one of the blunderbusses he held when he couldn’t use a cannon and didn’t need to refill his ammunition. It seemed ridiculous but the creature flinched every time.

It took longer for it to charge this time. It came at an angle, pointed more towards the prow of the ship. Z was vaguely aware of the ship turning at this point, only just barely able to stop the beast’s charge. When it thrashed and dove under the sloop, he turned back to look at Blue, who now gripped the wheel. They exchanged nods.

Once again, the megalodon was circling them. It was easiest to shoot it when it tried to charge the ship, but now it seemed to understand to avoid the sides where the cannons could shoot it. It had tried to each side and an angle more towards the bow; Z was certain now that it would try for the stern end of the ship.

Shortly after that thought, he was proven right. With a mighty thrash of its tail, the megalodon redirected itself and came in directly behind the sloop. No amount of manoeuvring would help this time.

“Hang onto somethin’!”

It was regrettable that Blue had situated herself on the canvas. The position gave her a vantage point to shoot the beast while it was behind them, but there was no time for her to find a point of safety. With a great crash of its jaws, wood splintered, fabric tore, the rowboat broke in half, and the sloop lurched forward with force.

Latched onto a cannon, Z was immediately able to fire once he got his bearings. The megalodon had just finished its dive under the ship when he did. Two cannonballs later and he realised two things: one was that the animal looked as bad as they did and it thrashed mightily — he wondered if he had killed it or if it had dove back into the depths. Secondly, he realised that the splash he heard was Blue falling over, now aware of her paddling after the sloop as it drifted.

Twisting around to the other side of the ship, Z leaned over to confirm what he thought he heard. There was nothing for him to do but hope that she made it to the ladder before the sharks got to her. It was just as he was about to turn back towards the last place he sighted the megalodon that he realised she would just barely miss it. All at once, she gasped as a shark grabbed her by the side, pulling her under the water’s surface. Z had drawn his cutlass and nearly threw himself over the port side to stab the shark’s nose before it dove too far down. It released her and he grabbed her by the shirt with his free hand, pulling her from the water.

The two of them collapsed on the deck as Blue spat out a not insignificant amount of seawater. Z had his arms around her as soon as he could, applying as much pressure to the wounds as he felt safe to do while she cleared her lungs. It probably looked worse than it was with the blood mixing with water, but until he could confirm how bad the bite was, he wouldn’t let it bleed freely. Blue, on the other hand, put an arm between them and attempt to push him away the moment she felt the slightest bit better.

“Christ, woman. Jus’…” He was at a loss for words.

“What are you doing ?” She sounded offended and that offended him.

That made him raise a brow. “Pressin’ down on the wound?”

She froze and he wondered why. Then she was looking down at her side, all the holes in the fabric and the area around it.

“The megalodon—”

“It’s gone. Dunno how, but it is.”

She coughed a few more times as she pondered his words. They sat there for a bit and Z wondered if she was relaxing or if the pain was coming to her.

“We need to make repairs.”

He followed her line of sight to the mid-deck. The entire back of the sloop had seen much better days. A few planks would plug the leaks, but they needed calm waters to be able to better fix the raised section and steady the support beams of it. They needed a shipwright’s hand for proper repairs. The rowboat was beyond salvaging.

“Yeah we do.”

Z looked back to her and then got them both to their feet, deciding it was better to get it over with than tell her and unnecessarily drag the task out. She groaned as much as he expected. There was quite a bit of blood on both of them and the deck, but all things considered, it could have been worse.

Pulling slightly to the mid-deck, Z said, “C’mon. Let’s get a look at—”

“I can manage on my own.”

“Good gods, woman, why are you like this?”

Despite his words, he let her pull away a little. She didn’t say anything in response and let him help her somewhat to the desk’s chair. She used her own arms to apply pressure once she sat. After a moment, she inspected a hand. It was not coated in nearly as much blood as he expected.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“For you—”

“Besides for me to disappear.”

She pouted a little at that. Then: “Get a pineapple started in the pan, would you?”

“Fine. Then I’m fixin’ the holes so we don’t eventually sink. Y’ll just hafta deal with it.”

She made a small noise of indignation but said nothing of the matter as he dipped down to the hold. As he did as asked, Z couldn’t help wondering how she was so… so whatever that kept him from even inspecting a wound on her. Prudish? Vain? That didn’t seem right. Or maybe it was, but there was something so off-putting about how intense she was about not letting him see her skin. That was beginning to raise questions.

A pineapple cut in half and both pieces placed in the pan, Z hoped he remembered the process right. Heat it up some, flip, then salt? It would be a bit before it was hot so he could ask. In the meantime, planks were pulled from the barrel and placed under his arm, hands holding nails and a hammer.

“How do I do that thing with the pineapple?” he asked as he passed Blue, taking care to not actually look at her. Still, he sensed that she was unnerved.

“It does not matter when you salt it, so long as you do.” They were both quiet for a moment, then she clarified: “Heat, salt, flip.”

“Thank you,” Z said, nearly nailing his thumb into the ship. One leaky spot was sealed up. It wasn’t the prettiest thing in the world, but any ship worth its salt had battle scars. These would just be the most prominent ones this sloop had. This sloop…

He mused on that thought as he went back down to the hold. There had been a box that he saw Blue withdraw salt from so he looked for that, finding it in the same spot at the bottom of a barrel. A generous pinch was applied to each piece of pineapple, courtesy of his thick gloves, before he flipped them. The ship rolled over a wave and he was able to grab a good bucket’s worth of water out of the hold. He went to the stairs and tossed it out the window, glancing at Blue as he did. He dipped back down and found a large piece of an old sail in the chest that he now understood to have scrap cloth in it. She made an undignified noise when he tossed it and it covered her head, though surprisingly didn’t scold him.

Back to work on the mid-deck’s damage, the next leak was also easily patched. It wasn’t a straightforward hole, but rather a crack in the wall. That especially would require a shipwright’s touch or it would get worse. The final spot was a simple enough patch, a single hole in a board that he put a plank over and nailed securely. Back to the wood barrel, he put the tools and extra planks away. Another bucket of water was also bailed. The ship would just be damper than usual for a while.

With that done, he turned his attention to the pineapple cooking. Rather than find something to do in the meantime, he simply waited. Blue would probably appreciate that.

Eventually, the sizzling in the pan changed its tune and he waited no longer. He found a wooden plate and placed the pineapple halves on it and made his way up the stairs, making plenty of noise as he did so Blue would have nothing to complain about. Impressively, she had wrapped the sail cloth around her midsection as a bandage, underneath the torn shirt she still wore.

“Shame ‘bout that bein’ white.”

She grumbled an agreement. Z sat on the side of the desk and set the plate down. They both took their respective halves and chewed quietly. It seemed her wound wasn’t too bad indeed as it had yet to seep blood through the layers of cloth.

“How is it?”

“Good.”

“Yer wound,” he clarified.

“Good. It is sore and my only concern are the scars it may leave behind.”

“That’s it?” She nodded and Z wasn’t sure what to think of that. “Alright then.”

The two of them sat in mutual silence, focused on eating. After one close call and another, it was deeply soothing to sit and relax as they did. All things considered, Blue seemed in especially good spirits. A diet of fish had certainly saved her a trip to the Ferry .

His thoughts hadn’t left him, however, and Z couldn’t stay quiet any longer. “Hey, I got a question.”

“If it is about the bite, it’s fine .”

He snickered. “No, I believe y’ on that now. No, uh… does this sloop have a name?”

“Of course.”

He leaned towards her slightly.

Blue paused in her chewing before definitely resisting the urge to roll her eyes at him. “It is the Forlorn Phoenix . That is what the old man that gave it to me said her name was.”

“Y’ didn’t—” Well, obviously she hadn’t come here on it. He asked a different question. “Old man?”

“When I arrived at Plunder Outpost, I needed a ship. He was there and all but forced it into my possession. He refused to keep it, saying that this ship is meant for those that need it and that he had no use of it as he was retiring.”

“Meant for those that need it…? What does that mean?”

She shrugged, careful to not aggravate her injury. “He said it was meant for those that needed it, that it would bring greatness and luck to them, and that it was not for those who held onto it past their time of need.”

Z stared at her for a moment. This was one hell of a little ship. “Do y’ really think that?”

“Sailors are a superstitious lot; of course I do not. I only believe that he was retiring, that he had no more use for a ship, and that I was an easy way to rid himself of it.”

It was bad luck for a ship to not have a name, but if that was how she felt… “Why bother tellin’ me its name then?”

“No one will remember a nameless ship.”

He paused, then made a thoughtful noise before returning to what remained of his pineapple. That was a very good reason indeed for a ship to have a name, a good one at that. Everyone on the Sea remembered the names of grand ships and the deeds they were used for — the Magpie’s Wing , the Burning Blade , the Morningstar, the Blackwyche — everyone remembered them and their captains, and sometimes their crew, too, and names helped a lot with that.

They sat in silence as they finished their snack. Blue looked good enough that he needn’t worry about her, but they needed to get going soon. He wondered if the megalodon had left anything behind.

“Stay here,” he told her. He stood and made his way to the quarter-deck, glad she did as told.

From his vantage point, Z made sure the water around them was clear. It was free of megalodons and the remaining sharks were in the process of dispersing. Off to the side were a few items, certainly from the beast, though he still wasn’t sure if it was because it’d had enough, vomited and left or if he had killed it. As he collected the lot with the harpoon, he found bits of flesh mingling with the treasure; that didn’t clear anything up at all.

Blue sat more comfortably in the chair now, but passing her with an armful of meat caught her attention.

“What is that?”

“Meg meat. Never had it before?”

“I have never had the opportunity.”

“It’s dinner then,” he decided, putting the meat away for later. He came and stopped before her. “Can y’ manage down here on yer own?”

She wrinkled her nose and attempted to stand. Z immediately put a hand on her shoulder.

“I don’t need you fallin’ overboard again.”

“What concern is that to you?”

“Ain’t you the one that said somethin’ about us only bein’ as strong as the weakest one?”

That annoyed her. It was difficult to not laugh, but he allowed himself a haughty smirk.

“Play with yer books, take a nap, do somethin’ besides comin’ up to the deck.”

“Fine.” She sighed as he left her to her own devices.

*

The sun was beginning to set when they came upon Picaroon Palms. It was a small island with nothing remarkable about it, but it was as good a place as any to rest and finish making repairs.

As Z made his way downstairs to check on what he had done earlier, he passed Blue, still sat in the chair and working on something in a book just as he’d suggested. He wasn’t surprised in the least when she ignored him, and that was fine by him — the ship came first right now.

The leaks of the mid-deck had been serviceably stopped up. His earlier work held up just fine in the unremarkable waters they had crossed. The canvas structure was in worse shape and threatened to give way at any moment. Rougher waters would certainly take it down. It could be patched up for the time being.

“How do you feel?” he asked, turning his attention to his shipmate now.

“Sore.”

“Sounds ‘bout right.”

Fixing up the beams of the sloop’s stern in the morning sounded dandy, but Blue slept on that. There was no way they were going to come to an agreement about the bed and he sighed, realising he would have to make more repairs right now. He was vaguely aware of her eyes on him as he went downstairs to gather supplies.

More planks and nails and the hammer were retrieved. One side had been hit especially hard and the wood needed support so that it did not snap. The megalodon’s bite had done quite a lot of damage, but it was an imprecise creature and had rammed the ship more than bitten it.

“Do you need help?” Blue asked as he began standing on the sloped wall of the stern’s mid-deck.

He knew just how nasty a shark bite could be; she was in no condition to be doing anything. Standing as he did was difficult, and it would be easier if someone else held everything for him. He motioned for her to come over.

“Hold this,” he said as he handed her the planks. The nails were dumped into one of his pockets.

With his hands free, Z found it easier to keep his balance. Hammering planks into place was still a difficult job, but it was necessary. He wobbled once and Blue offered him an arm to steady himself on so he didn’t grope for the sloop’s damaged beams. They said nothing as the task was worked to completion.

Z inspected his work. Now that the stern was no longer in danger of collapsing at the slightest force, something else could be done with his time. Dinner sounded good.

“Hungry?”

Blue rose a brow at him just before turning to put the unused material away, but that hadn’t been a no. He followed her down to the hold, giving her the nails he hadn’t used so he could rifle through the food barrel.

“How ‘bout a piece of meg?”

Blue gave him an unimpressed look. Despite that, she said, “Very well.”

Z inspected the chunks of flesh. They were unwieldy in the hand, bigger than his head. It would be difficult to cook such a thing as it was so he employed his cutlass to cut a piece in half and then again. The half was placed back in the barrel, the fourths into the pan.

When he turned around, Blue was sat at the foot of the bed, looking more fatigued than she realised. ‘Dealing’ with it or not, she had still suffered one hell of an injury and he was still surprised by how well she was doing. He sat on the other side near the stove to watch the meat as it cooked — megalodon was gamy as it was, it didn’t need to be overcooked — and to give her enough space.

“You doin’ alright?”

Blue looked annoyed, holding her side. “ Sore ,” she reiterated.

“I’m surprised it didn’t take that chunk outta you.”

“Whatever you did stopped it before it could shake me or bite down harder, I suppose. What did you do?”

“Stabbed it in the head and pulled you outta the water.”

She made a noise of realisation. “Then I thank you.”

You always gotta be so prim and proper? he wanted to ask. There was no point to it, it would only serve to start a fight and with Blue standing up already, he had other concerns.

“Where y’ goin’?”

“To the island. it will be a while before that is done, correct?”

“Alright, but there ain’t anythin’ in’erestin’ on this island.”

“Good thing I am not looking for entertainment then.”

He rose a brow at her words but decided against questioning it. It was so much easier when he didn’t do that; she always had a reason for doing whatever she was doing, so he stayed where he was even when he heard the splashing of her wading to the beach. Perhaps, he realised, she was going to look for something to treat her wounds with. Z flipped the pieces of meat as he considered this.

Soon enough, he heard his shipmate come back. She didn’t immediately come down to where he was when she was back aboard the ship. Rather than wait, he checked their dinner again, decided it was cooked enough, and grabbed a plate. The slabs of meat only just fit on it, and even then one was set atop the other slightly.

Unsurprisingly, he found her at the desk, book and aloe leaf before her. She seemed surprised to see him.

“Already?”

“Y’ took yer time on the island.”

“Did I?” She thought on that for a moment. “I suppose I am moving slower right now.”

“That makes sense,” he said. The plate was set on the table, but he couldn’t shake on thought from his mind. “Hey… how bad was it?”

She glared slightly at him, pausing and refraining from grabbing her part of the meal. Then she motioned with the opposite side’s hand from just under her shoulder to her hip. He must have made a face for she quickly said, “It is not so bad. It only held me for a moment, correct?” He nodded. “Then you acted swiftly enough to spare me any real harm. My prior lack of knowledge does not mean this place’s magic has had any less effect on me.”

“Y’re bein’ kinda curt, though. Y’ know, more than usual.” Immediately, he regretted saying that. Thankfully, Blue only gave him a look of disapproval.

“Am I not supposed to feel pain?”

He bit the inside of his cheek. The time he took to feel dumb gave her plenty to grab her piece of meat and start on it.

“So y’re fine?”

“Fine and dandy,” she said, grimacing and failing to take a bite out of her piece. “… This is tough.”

“Uh, yeah.” He looked between the meat and her. Z still wasn’t sure if he believed that she was alright, especially now that he understood just how large the shark had been, but if she insisted…

“Y’ should prob’ly just cut it up with that fancy knife’a yers,” he added.

Blue sighed but retrieved it from her hip. Despite the toughness, the meat fell apart under her blade as she cut both slabs into bite-sized chunks.

“Simply frying this does not seem to be the way to cook it,” she said before eating a piece. Then she paused, wrinkled her nose and made a thoughtful noise.

“Maybe, but it’s all we got, innit?”

She cleared her throat. “This is better than I expected. Tough , but…”

“Tough but tasty with just enough salt in it? Yeah.”

“Something like that. There is… something else I cannot describe.”

He chuckled. “Y’ ‘member what I said about meat? This is the best thing you can eat in or after a fight. Well, this and kraken bits.”

“Kraken bits?”

“Ye—” He stopped.

Blue had a look on her face he had briefly seen before. Once again, he had done that thing where he hadn’t thought about what he said. This time, however, she stared at him with that expression.

“… What?”

“ Kraken bits ?” she reiterated fiercely.

“Yeah. So… there’s… kraken here…”

“Of course there are,” she said incredulously. “There are skeletons that still walk and giant sharks larger than this ship and everything else — of course there’s krakens here .”

He snickered, then was unable to help laughing. “Well, if it makes y’ feel any better, they usually go after the gallys.”

Whether it did or not, she said nothing. Rather, Blue ate another piece of meat as she glared at him, her face frozen in that expression for the rest of the evening.

Chapter 15: Weariness

Summary:

The Forlorn Phoenix is repaired and Blue decides she is tired of the Shores of Plenty.

When morning came, Blue found herself wondering just how much sleep she had gotten, feeling not too rested. She could hear that Z was already up, something sizzling on the stove. If she had to guess, she would have guessed it to be more megalodon meat, not entirely familiar with the scent.

On the best of days, she was slow to rise. Today, Blue stayed where she was on the canvas until her shipmate came to wake her. There was plenty of grumbling involved but she did slowly sit up, surprised by how sore she was.

“I thought the healing here was accelerated?”

“It is, in the kind of way that ya didn’t die yesterday, did ya?”

Blue rolled her eyes at him, but she knew very well that he was right, that she was lucky to not be on the Ferry right now. It was becoming a strange habit to be glad she wasn’t dead again .

Their sloop — another strange thought that was, their sloop — had seen better days. Z’s quick ramshackle repairs did wonders for the stability of the canopy, and they hadn’t slowly sunk overnight. If things had gone similarly and she had been alone, the sloop would be in a much different condition.

They made idle conversation about the repairs while more megalodon meat was cooked for breakfast. The dense meat took time to heat thoroughly and thus Z had plenty of time to direct the topic to her wound. No amount of emphasising that the worst she suffered now was a lingering soreness seemed to appease him, and that yes, she was very well capable of sailing.

After a breakfast of megalodon meat and coconut milk, they set out. Boulder Cay was their next destination as it was between them and the nearest outpost, Sanctuary. Blue wasn’t excited about backtracking, but it was necessary: both of them agreed that the ship needed tending to by a shipwright and she was not about to start letting her sloop’s general condition degrade.

Between fair winds and currents, it took little time to traverse the waters to the next island. It was only mid-day when the sail was pulled. Blue would have also dropped anchor if Z hadn’t said anything about it.

“Y’ don’t need it when the sail’s all the way up, y’ see? The ship might turn a bit but it ain’t goin’ anywhere. That way if y’ get snuck up on by somebody else y’ can jus’ lower yer sail and go.”

It was a strange idea, she thought, stopping without lowering the anchor, but he was right. Words of wisdom spewing from his mouth was strange. Blue wasn’t sure what to make of her shipmate’s ability to plan further ahead than he had shown her before. She was also realising just how much tolerance he had shown towards her when she initially agreed to take him to meet his friends.

With the ship comfortably stopped, Blue found herself willing to explore this little island they were at. It was a real shame about the rowboat — she had appreciated not getting her feet wet every time she stepped off ship. Boots shaken and pant legs pulled up to just below her knees, she made the awkward wade onto shore.

Z didn’t share her disdain for the water, opting to vault off the sloop and into the water without any precautions. She stared at him as he joined her on the beach.

“What?”

“Do you really have to do that?”

He didn’t look like he had a good answer as to why his boots and pant leggings were now soaked. Blue shook her head and stepped forward.

“I presume this is just another little island with nothing of interest to it by your concerns?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” he said as he caught up to her.

She made a thoughtful noise as they walked, and then spotted a palm tree with coconuts on it. Two had fallen on their own and they took note of this.

“Well, there is that,” Blue commented. Z simply gave her a toothy grin.

Indeed, besides the prospect of coconut hearts, there was nothing of interest on this little island. Blue retrieved the fruit for them and they started back to the ship. Z drifted away, more towards the southern side. Rather than fight to get herself and their goods onto the ship alone, she followed him and his line of sight, now also curious about the trash in the water.

“What is it?”

“There’s a wreck here.”

Blue looked at him, to the water, and slowly back at him. “Is… is that a problem?”

“It’s new,” he explained after a moment. Then he stepped forward into the water and dove in.

Exasperated by the idea of two sets of soaked clothes, Blue simply stared at the ripples. Exploring a shipwreck was an attractive prospect if it was fresh; there could be goodies inside, free for the taking. With a sigh, she set the coconuts down and followed him in.

A trail of debris consisting of planks, barrels, boxes, and bits of ship led from the beach to the depths — or maybe it was the other way around. Once, in life, this was a huge galleon. Now it laid torn open on the shallow sea floor, nothing more than planks that only just resembled the inner decks of a ship. The sails had long since been ripped away, leaving naked masts strewn about each other, cannons that had fallen from their carriages, furniture thrown every which way. A chair had somehow ended up on the map table, which was now broken in half. Seaweed and grass had begun to grow in the middle of the ship.

Blue was most curious about the captain’s cabin. Inside, the curtain was still a brilliant red; the furniture was less fortunate. There were still some books on the overturned shelf; she made a mental note of them. Nothing else caught her interest so she rose to the surface to breathe. Z breached nearby for the same reason; neither of them said anything and they dove back down.

On the way down, Blue glimpsed the ship’s red crest: Morningstar . The name meant nothing to her but she dedicated it to memory nonetheless — she would have to ask around about it. For now, she returned to the cabin, opening the first book to see if any writing had survived the water. The most she was able to make out were a few letters here and there; the book was unsalvageable. The next one she picked up was in a similar condition. It was a safe bet that all of them were like that so she pulled her attention away from the cabin to explore the rest of the ship after surfacing for a fresh breath.

As she glanced over the ship’s decks for anything of interest, she noticed Z doing the same thing. Both of them were undoubtedly looking for items of value now, but Blue would also have accepted anything that looked interesting. Nothing of either subject was showing up and she wasn’t sure if it was because the wreck had already been picked through or because there was never anything in the first place.

This time, Blue stayed on the water’s surface. When her shipmate popped up beside her, they exchanged glances.

“Find anythin’?”

“No. You?”

“Nothin’.”

Blue hummed a noise of confirmation and made the swim back to the shore with Z close behind. The coconuts were regathered and tossed onto the deck of the ship so she could climb the ladder unhindered. Once on the main-deck, she paused and examined her soaked clothing.

“What a waste.”

Z laughed from the quarter-deck. “What, y’ don’t like bein’ a little wet?”

“No, not especially. If there had been something interesting in that wreck, anything at all, it would have been worth the while. Instead, here we are, none the wiser or richer.” She sighed, trying to wring her hair out and failing. The coconuts were picked up from the deck and she commented, “At least these were there.”

“Those’re always nice!”

Of course he was excited about a treat. Blue tossed one his way.

“I am going to change. I trust you can open that yourself now.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

A few times now he had watched her open them and she had given him a proper demonstration — of course, he would. With some amusement, Blue headed down to the hold to find herself a towel and a fresh set of clothing. Thankfully, leggings and shirts were in no short supply on the ship. She was also quite glad that she could hear Z playing with the coconut he had been given, the sound of it being knocked upon repeatedly filling the air before its scent did. The second one was stowed away for later.

When she went topside again, she wasn’t surprised in the least to find Z leaning on the quarter-deck’s railing, chewing on the heart. He’d already devoured a good portion of it yet he handed it to her anyway; it wasn’t her preferred method of sharing but it was better than none at all.

For the rest of the day, the two spent it and much of the evening apart. Z didn’t seem to do much, sunning himself dry before going downstairs for a time and then returning to the main-deck once more. Blue found plenty to do in her logbook, adding more to it and going over previous entries. She wasn’t entirely sure that she had ever been to this island, but she was certain that the shipwreck was recent as per Z’s word. It and its location were well documented for herself.

The night and morning passed swiftly. The second coconut was shared for breakfast before they set sail for Sanctuary Outpost. Conditions were again very good and they found themselves at their destination before evening. Once there, they allowed themselves to relax for they spotted no other ships at any islands or on the horizon. The resident shipwright was given their request and paid handsomely for a speedy job.

Not long after, they had dinner at The George and Kraken. The tavern was a far cry from the one at Dagger Tooth Outpost, as was the food. Something merely edible would have sufficed but it seemed the kitchen was wanting to serve its purpose with pride and so they appreciated the lovely meal, fresh biscuits and fish both.

“What is your plan for tonight?” Blue asked.

Z swallowed his mouthful of food and looked at her. “My plan?”

“The shipwright promised to work through the night for the price we paid. Do you plan to sleep through that?”

“Eh.” He shrugged. “I can sleep anywhere.”

“Right. Well, whatever the case, I will be getting a room for the night.”

He gave her a look. She stared back.

“So you know. You can sleep wherever you like. Other than my room.”

He snorted. “Fine, fine. I’ll sleep on the roof.”

Blue rose a brow at him. “… why?”

“‘Cause I can.”

She stared at him for a moment longer before tearing her eyes away, wholly uncertain what she was supposed to say to that.

And so her shipmate slept on the roof of the inn that night, rather than inside as any sane person would have. It bothered her more than she would have liked, but Blue found this behaviour to be absolutely ridiculous and yet also totally in line with what she expected out of Z now. There was no reason for him to not get a room for himself.

When morning came, Blue was up early. The shipwright would certainly still be busy with repairs and so she busied herself with the logbook for a time. Only when there was absolutely nothing more to be written did she go downstairs for breakfast. Another warm meal that she didn’t have to make herself was nice, and it attracted Z’s attention.

“I was not aware that you were capable of being up this early,” she jested.

He shrugged. “I woke up and couldn’t go back t’ sleep.”

She supposed hat made sense.

They loitered around the tavern, taking their time with breakfast and making light conversation. Blue insisted that yes, her side was feeling better today and that she was probably fully healed. It was a far cry from the certain death that the wound would have been outside of the Shroud.

When Blue could lollygag no more, she declared herself bored and decided it was worth checking in with the shipwright. True to her word, she had worked through the night and the Forlorn Phoenix looked as though she had never encountered the megalodon in the first place. A few minor blemishes — like the charred wood on the deck — had been removed, too. Blue tipped the shipwright for her outstanding services and they left Sanctuary.

It took a while before Z could no longer hold his tongue. “So where we goin’?”

“South. I have spent enough time in this area seeing the same sights and the Wilds over and over again.”

“Then that sounds like a good idea.”

Whether they headed to the southern end of the Shores of Plenty or made it all the way into the Ancient Isles made no difference to Blue. As long as they put more distance between them and the general vicinity of Hidden Spring Keep and Dagger Tooth Outpost, she was pleased.

After some time of sailing, Z piped up again. “You ever been t’ Wanderer’s?”

“I have. Why?”

“Jus’ wonderin’.”

There had been such thoughtfulness to his tone that Blue knew better than that. What he might have been trying to get at, however, was beyond her. When he didn’t elaborate, she spoke: “Why do you ask?”

“I spotted a ship over in that direction earlier. Barely saw it, jus’ the mast and a red flag. No idea what kinda ship it was.”

“That is very far away.” How did he even see it? “What concern is a ship that far to us?”

“If you can see ‘em, they can see you.”

“Fair.” That was logical, but Blue could sense that there was still more to it.

“The wind is changing on us,” she said, changing the subject. “We can make good time pass Rapier Cay and reach Crescent Isle by nightfall.”

“Might as well.”

*

Crescent Isle was a moderately sized island on the western edge of the known Sea of Thieves. Per its name, it was shaped like the moon in its last phase. The entirety of the island was hollow; it was inside the northern end that Blue had chosen to sit and rest for a time.

Curiously, despite a lack of sunlight, there was a palm tree down in it. It was quite peculiar and she had decided it was worth looking at for a time, clearing her mind of the last two days. Events had not been overly stressful, but throughout the first half of the day, her side had throbbed with a dull ache and made it impossible to relax until now. That and Z’s pestering. If he knew how to read there would have been plenty of material to busy himself with, but no, he had to talk instead.

When she felt like moving again, Blue stepped out of the cave to the bay side of the island. She spied nothing of interest from where she stood so she began the trek up the hilly island. To her delight, Z had busied himself on the northern half of the island with drinking at a small pool with an even smaller waterfall. She had no idea before that there was a source of fresh water here.

“How quaint.”

“Y’ didn’t know this was here?”

“I have never had reason to come here.”

Z narrowed his eyes at her, thinking something he didn’t speak aloud. Blue didn’t push it, only dipped her hands in the water so she could splash her face. Z was about to ask something, she could see.

“Later, in the morning, after I have slept. Though, I think it is your turn to clean the laundry?”

He looked much less amused, then: “Fine then.”

Blue only hid some of her amusement before heading further up along the verticality that the island had to offer. From the highest point, she had a good look at the Shores of Plenty. Golden Sands Outpost was the nearest island. Wanderer’s Refuge couldn’t be spied very well from here due to the massive rock by it, though; she still wondered what fascination Z might have had with the island, but it was less interesting than the outpost was right now, a brigantine stopped at it. Surely it could not be his friend.

Before he could say anything, Blue turned to look at her shipmate, raising a brow at his shirtlessness.

“What? I slipped.”

He looked ridiculous. She almost commented on this, then decided that it wasn’t worth it.

“Do you think that brigantine might be your friends?” she asked.

He gave a thoughtful hum as he followed her eyes. “Nah, I don’t think so, it’s flying a flag.”

“Flying a flag?”

“Yeah. We us’ally don’t remember to put one up.”

Blue blinked at that statement, but she could see them doing that. “Now then, have we any use of that outpost?”

He hummed again. “They ain’t gonna have anythin’ for us to take and we have plenty’a supplies. I think we’re good.”

She was surprised by the thoughtfulness of his response but appreciated it nonetheless. She nodded, saying, “Then tomorrow we will start to follow the islands south until we must turn east.”

“That works. Might even find a ship or two hiding behind an island or out near the Red Sea.”

“Red Sea?”

“The Shr— the Devil’s Shroud. It’s a red mist?”

“Ah. Do you know this from stories or experience?”

“Both.”

That raised more questions than it answered. Blue wasn’t sure she wanted to have that discussion quite yet. “Fair enough. I will return to the ship now.”

They nodded to each other and parted ways. Until they went to bed, they only briefly spoke again when Z collected the laundry, idly greeting each other. Later, it was Z again who couldn’t hold his tongue like usual.

“So really, why d’ya sleep out here? It’s cold tonight and there’s a warm bed you could kick me out of.”

Curled up on the canvas, Blue stared out to the west, taking in the dark abyss and considering kicking him into the water. She counted by fives up to sixty and felt better.

“It is habit, that is all.”

“Alright, but how does a habit like that even start?”

Blue considered the smart-ass ways that she could respond to him, then decided on the simplest. “By being none of your business.”

He groaned but got the message when she rolled over.

*

When morning came and the sky was only just being lit up by the rising sun, Blue found the near silence deafening. No birds sang, the water was still, and Z wasn’t snoring. She slowly sat up on the canvas, looking about. A shark leapt from the water onto the quarter-deck.

Blue jerked and sat up again, looking around wildly.

A flock of parrots sang in the tree at the highest point of the island, the ocean lapped quietly at the ship’s sides, and she could hear Z rustling downstairs. That felt right. What an odd and very unpleasant dream.

On her feet now, she stretched and made her way down to the hold. Z had shifted so that he lay very close to the edge of the bed, an arm stretched out so his fingers brushed the floor. Somehow, he looked very comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. At least he wasn’t wearing his prosthetic to bed anymore.

Blue collected a towel and a set of clean clothes before hopping off the ship. An awkward wade was made to the shoreline once more and she made her way to the little rock pond. It was more than serviceable for her needs, though no one would be catching any fish from it. It was just when she had gotten comfortable beside the waterfall that she noticed the ship at Golden Sands had moved.

It was not a single brigantine but rather two of them. They must have been sat right next to each other for her and Z both to make that mistake. Had they been coming their way, this would have been much more alarming. As it was, Blue only found herself mildly annoyed for that could still happen in the meantime. Fighting two ships with only their single sloop was a ridiculous notion, and there would be no escape in that match-up, making the whole thing a lose-lose situation. Their best bet, she realised, would be to keep the ship where it was and hope that they avoided being noticed in the first place.

Keeping an eye on the brigantines meandering about the outpost, Blue finished her bath, cleaned her nightgown, then dressed and made her way to the island’s highest point once more. Eventually, Z joined her up there and she was thankful that, for a while, he made no noise beyond an initial thoughtful hum.

“Have those guys done anythin’?” he asked after a time of his own observation.

“They move slowly about the outpost, but I believe they are readying themselves to leave.”

“Eventually.”

“Mhm, eventually.”

He stood there with his hands on his hips for a few minutes and Blue was glad for the quiet. Then again…

He turned to her. “Breakfast in the meantime?”

She nodded, also hungry. Another chunk of megalodon was cooked, this time by Blue as she wanted the experience for herself. No matter how thin it was cut, it took longer to cook than expected. A coconut was split between them for its milk.

Throughout the morning, the brigantines stayed where they were. It was frustrating to be sat still, waiting on the actions of others to determine their own. It was Blue that got bored enough to strike up a conversation.

“So what is it that you do?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard. “What I do?” She nodded and motioned for him to continue from her seat on the canvas. He seemed at a loss for what to say.

“What is it that you do on your own?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be sittin’ here waitin’ on those brigs. I’d just go by and if we fight, we fight.”

“Really now? You would sail with reckless abandon in spite of the unlikely odds?”

“Yeah.”

She blinked at the simplicity of his response. “And… if those brigs did want to fight us?”

He shrugged. “We could give it our best shot. That or we keep sittin’ here with our thumbs up our asses.”

She recoiled at his words. The exaggeration wasn’t the worse, but it was overly crude. Then again, this conversation had become ridiculous. And yet…

“So that is it? That is your suggestion? That we simply go about our business, pass two brigantines that we most likely cannot win a fight against and surely cannot outpace should they give chase?”

He nodded.

Blue scoffed and let herself fall back against the canvas, staring at the sky. How ridiculous. And yet, the boredom was getting to her. She could feel Z watching her and she hated that. There was nothing for her to do, he never did anything, and despite the risk, getting a move on was an attractive prospect.

“Fine,” she said, sitting up; “We do as we planned before: head south. If either ship shows interest, then we will just have to deal with it. How does that sound?”

He smirked. “Sounds good.”

“And you will not deviate from this plan.”

A chuckle. “Fine, fine.”

Blue got the ship moving and did as they agreed upon. The wind and waves made southward travel easy. The brigantines stayed where they were on the far side of Golden Sands Outpost, their crews deciding that a single sloop wasn’t worth the hassle or never noticing them. The only problem the two ran into was missing Sea Dog’s Rest, a tiny little island, and not realising until they were closer to Mermaid’s Hideaway than not. Turning around would be pointless despite the fading sun.

“Any words of wisdom about this island?” Blue asked at a point. Z seemed to seriously consider her words. Then he shrugged.

“Meh, I’ll jus’ show ya. You ever been?”

“A few of times. The Merchant Alliance often trades supplies between Golden Sands and this island, sometimes between it and Sanctuary, too.”

“Mhmm… You ever explore the island?”

“It has never crossed my mind. I am aware of a pool in the centre of the island, and what looks to be a ruined watch post high on the southern end. Beside that—”

“So no.”

She sighed. “No.”

“Well, I hope you like swimming.”

Blue rose a brow at the comment but didn’t make one of her own. It was dark already and they would certainly wait until the morning to do anything. At least, she would. If Z wanted to run around in the dark, he was welcome to do so on his own.

Just like at Crescent, she pulled the ship in on the west side of the island, using it as a shield against any passing eyes. The brigantines of Golden Sands would certainly still be aware of them, but they seemed uninterested. That could change in the night, especially due to the swiftness of such a ship, but they had spent the entire day and then some sailing — she was tired.

Passing Z at the table and going down into the hold, Blue ignored something he asked. It didn’t strike her as important. Grabbing a blanket and curling up on the canvas was much more appealing to her at this time, no matter what she wore, and he seemed to recognise that now. Still…

“No dinner?”

“Eat if you are hungry. I am tired.”

He made a noise of annoyance but didn’t fight the matter. Blue was glad for that as she got comfortable for the night.

Chapter 16: Silken Consideration

Summary:

Blue and Z make way to the Ancient Isles. There, opportunities await them once more.

In contrast to the cannon fire that she half-expected to be woken by, it was instead the sound of island birds singing that Blue heard that morning. Upon further inspection of her surroundings, she found nothing amiss and that the brigantines of Golden Sands had disappeared without a trace. It seemed that she and her shipmate would be allowed to go about their day without any interruptions.

“So what is it about this island?” Blue asked as they ate breakfast.

If his exaggerated chuckle was anything to go by, Z was quite amused. “Y’ like swimmin’?”

She sighed in defeat, and because her half of the splashtail they shared had no more fins to yield to her. “I can tolerate it. Must we?”

“All the merms hang out in the water,” he reasoned. She sighed again.

They finished their breakfast and Blue changed into some clothes that she didn’t care too much about and would not be a hindrance in the water. Z spent that entire time waiting for her on the quarter-deck, apparently indifferent to what he swam in.

“So this is Mermaid’s Hideaway,” Blue stated once she was up on the deck with him.

“Yeah…” He gave her an unimpressed but curious look. “What do you mean?”

“Will we be finding any mer here?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. They are everywhere in the water.”

She huffed; that wasn’t quite what she meant and he was being difficult. It didn’t help that she got the feeling that he was purposefully toying with her by giving her those noncommittal responses. She motioned at him.

“Very well, lead the way.”

Z grinned before throwing himself off the side of the ship. At first, she thought that he might lead her to the crack in the island she spotted before disembarking, but that wasn’t the case. Looking more forward, she now saw the mouth of a cave that must have been their destination.

When they were close to it, it was clear to Blue that they would be diving into the water that went underneath the island. Previously, she would have refused to entertain such a notion, but as unpleasant as it probably was, she didn’t fear drowning anymore. Besides, if Z could make the swim, she surely could, too. That was what she told herself as they left the surface and entered the tunnel.

The way turned sharply to the left. Just when Blue wondered how far it would go, the path opened up into a cavern thick with coral and foliage. Despite the low light and the burning in her lungs, it was a gorgeous sight. Curiosity took root when she spotted a primitive-looking statue of what must have been meant to represent a merfolk in the middle of the chamber.

They breached the surface for a breath. Blue took in her surroundings as she did, noting a wooden platform. A ladder was attached to it that led from the water all the way to an opening at the top; sky was visible from it. Z seemed to be waiting for something from her, allowing a whisper of a smirk across his face.

“What is this?”

“Jus’ Mermaid’s Hideaway. There’s like…” He looked down and about. “Maybe three ways into here. Plus up there,” he said, motioning to the upper land entrance before back to the water.

That response wasn’t very satisfying, but she nodded to him nonetheless. Then she dove on her own accord, taking another look at the entire room from where she was. All about it was seaweed and grass and coral, some of which was so extravagant that it seemed to create extra shelving in the already layered cave. On one rocky shelf was an opened treasure chest and clay containers, seemingly thrown away. It was all that Blue found worth noting so she surfaced again.

“And what is this cave?”

Z shrugged his shoulders. “Yer guess is as good as mine. C’mon.”

That wasn’t a very good answer. He didn’t allow Blue any time to consider it or give a response before he dove again. She watched where he went before taking a deep breath. From there, they went through another tunnel. To her surprise, it led them to the pool in the centre of the island, but that couldn’t be right: these tunnels connected the pool and ocean, yet this water lacked the sea’s salt.

Her expression must have shown her confusion as Z inquired: “What?”

“This pond is freshwater, is it not?”

He nodded. There was a small school of pondies that confirmed what she asked. Blue stared at him for a moment and then shook her head of the thought; it wasn’t worth the headache. More curious was the presence of two more statues on either side of the tunnel’s exit, positioned as though they guarded it.

Blue pointed to these statues. “You have seen these… have you not?”

“No, I haven’t. Huh.” It was evident by his expression.

She stared at him, then looked back to the carvings. They were crude and made her deeply curious, but without knowing the slightest thing about the mer, she couldn’t even begin to wonder in a productive manner. She couldn’t shake one question, though.

“Why do the mer help us when we are at sea?” she asked, making her way to shore.

“I’m not sure,” Z said once he began following her. “Some say it’s ‘cause the Pirate Lord struck a deal with ‘em.”

“A deal?”

“Uh huh. No one’s ever said what that deal is, though. It’s that or they’re lookin’ for people to turn into ‘em.”

On land now, Blue froze. “To turn… Surely you do not mean that the merfolk turn people into more merfolk?”

Z stopped wringing his shirt out to give her an unimpressed look. “Maybe they do, maybe they don’t. Ain’t any way anyone can tell us, anyway.”

She made a face. “If we do not speak the same languages, how could the Pirate Lord have made a deal with them?”

Z paused again before giving her an elaborate shrug.

“Have you never thought about this?”

“Can’t say I have.”

She gave him an incredulous look before turning away. This quick tour of the island’s underwater tunnels had been interesting, yet dissatisfying. Perhaps there was more to the Sea of Thieves than pirates.

“I have two questions,” she said, beginning to press water out of her hair.

Z groaned. “Oh, I don’t want another bath already.”

She rose a brow. “I see no point when we have to swim back to the ship still…” They exchanged looks. “Now then. My questions are… unrelated, I believe.”

“Shoot.”

“Pirates did not carve those stones into the statues we see now. They also did not make all the weathered paintings that dot the island in this place, did they?” Z shook his head. “I did not think so. Now… I have heard the title before, but who is the Pirate Lord?”

“Well, he’s the Pirate Lord, y’see?” he said. Blue wanted to smack him. “He’s been makin’ the rules here for…” She wasn’t sure if he tried and failed to give her an exact number or if his head just wasn’t screwed on tight enough. “For a while. He makes things fair, I guess.”

Blue considered his words. She didn’t feel it was a very good explanation, but it was satisfactory for now. This was not the time or place for a history run down of the Sea of Thieves, new or old.

“Hey, can I ask a question now?”

She looked at him. “… Shoot.”

“Why’d ya do that with yer hair if we still gotta swim back to the ship?”

Hands buried in her hair, Blue froze. She had said it herself. She had no good explanation for why she had bothered trying to accelerate its drying when it would soon be soaked again.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Perhaps that had been rude. Any inkling of regret Blue might have felt for her tone disappeared when she heard her shipmate laughing behind her. It was only when they were about the jump off the ledge high on the island’s west side that he stopped his giggling.

*

To the south, there were no more known islands so they headed somewhat east. Sailor’s Knot Stronghold was a known skeleton occupation but when they got there, it was as abandoned as Old Boot Fort had been. While they were there, the decision to go to Plunder Valley was made as Discovery Ridge was more out of the way.

Plunder Valley, however, irked Z quite a lot. When Blue confirmed that she wasn’t imagining his bad mood, she asked him what was so wrong with the island and received a simple response of “Everything.” That didn’t clarify anything at all but she let the matter go. She, on the other hand, had plenty of fun finding a way to the top of the island to spend the evening and watch the horizon.

From there, they were one good day’s worth of sailing away from Plunder Outpost. If conditions were not good, and they weren’t, they could stop at Lost Gold Fort.

Despite being another abandoned skeleton occupation, Blue found the place to be pleasant. Unlike the other fortresses she had visited, this one still had quite a lot of foliage that gave it character. And also like the others, it had a rickety building at the top of it that she enjoyed climbing to the top of, finding it just sturdy enough. One question did linger in her mind that she wasn’t sure when she’d be willing to voice: who built them?

From Lost Gold Fort, Plunder Outpost was an easy sail. A galleon had been spotted to the north and a sloop to the west past where they had just been, but no ships were at the island proper so they took the opportunity to freshen up supplies and get a kitchen-made meal. The matter of what to do about those ships remained.

“It is very unlikely that the sloop crew are carrying deliveries for the Merchant Alliance. There are no liaisons in that section of the region.”

Z seemed to consider those words. Blue continued.

“The galleon, however, might be. They are in the area of Snake Island and Crook’s Hollow; the latter does often have one representative that can usually be found somewhere by the dock.”

“So the gally’s busy doin’ something that might be runnin’ cargo.”

“Correct. And it is a galleon. It is not worth going out of our way to pester that crew. The sloop, though… I cannot guess what the sloop’s crew may be doing.”

“There’s an old shipwreck on Ol’ Salt. They might be scavenging it.”

“If it is old, then there is nothing for them to find.” Z shrugged at her words. “Depending on prior crews’ investigations…? Hm.”

“If the gally’s out of the question and this sloop’s pokin’ ‘round a shipwreck, we’ll go for them instead.” Blue sat up a little straighter when he said that. “That is it, right? Y’ don’t want to go pokin’ a gally, so that’s yer choice and mine is that we go after that sloop. What else we gonna do with our time?”

“Mm.” Blue stretched her hands out against each other. “Very well. You make a good point. We will…” Hesitating, uncertain what exactly to say to this operation they had agreed upon, Blue narrowed her eyes. “… investigate the sloop with our cannons.”

“Now y’re talkin’.”

“First thing in the morn—”

“Why not now?”

She sighed. “It is already quite late. And there are only so many places that sloop can go, correct? They can go east this way, or they can go north into the Shores of Plenty. If they disappear from our sight, it will not be difficult to guess where they have gone.”

He made a thoughtful noise and thought for a moment. “Alright then. We leave first thing in the mornin’, and no breakfast at the tavern.”

“Very well. Shall I wake you?”

“If you ain’t willin’ t’ sail solo.”

She narrowed her eyes at his quip.

That was their agreement and so when she awoke, Blue forced herself to get up right away instead of dozing as she so liked to. Z was snoring obnoxiously loudly down in the hold so waking him was an easy task. He only jumped a little and grumbled less when he recalled their plans, visibly excited. Between him almost trying to get up without replacing his prosthetic and the infection he had let take hold before, he acted like he hadn’t lost the leg so long ago and that made her wonder, though not enough to wonder aloud.

“Get us something to eat,” she commanded of him. It was the least he could do after getting more sleep — even if it was by mere minutes — while simultaneously allowing him to spend his time waking up down in the hold away from her.

They had just resupplied at Plunder Outpost the day before so there was plenty to pick from. When Z came topside with a reheated fish and tankard of grog for both of them, Blue was astonished. It wasn’t a bad breakfast, but it could have been so much more. She reminded herself of his nature and let the matter go.

As they scanned the horizon for their target, it seemed missing. Z pointed the ship out and she needed a moment longer to reacquire it. Though they had pointed out that there was much open ocean to the south and west of the other sloop and that it was unlikely to go those directions, it had in fact gone south. This was quite curious until they were close enough to spot a huge flock of seagulls in the same area.

“Gulls. Shipwreck?”

“Prob’ly.”

This would explain the sloop’s behaviour. A scavenging crew would happily follow the final journey of a lost ship if it meant easy pickings. The problem with that, however, was that there was no easy way to get close to them, no island that they could pretend to have an excuse to visit or simply pass by.

Blue was astonished by how close they got to the ship before it responded to their presence by lowering its sail. Being similarly sized ships meant that they couldn’t put any significant distance between themselves and the Forlorn Phoenix , so she wondered what their plan might be. They couldn’t run forever and she didn’t think they would fight. That is, until the ship began to turn. She couldn’t fathom why there had been a delay; had the crew debating options amongst each other, the lookout dozing? She wondered if one had been left behind in the water and forced to wait for a merfolk to take them back to their ship — knowing their speed now, she wondered if this would even be visible from afar.

More pressing was the matter of the ship turning on them. She doubted that they were interested in a friendly chat at this point, though it would be convenient. Glancing down at Z on the main-deck, he was already looking to her.

“You stay up there. I’ll tell ya what I need.”

Blue simply nodded back to him. Her manning the helm gave him the freedom to do as he liked and she was more comfortable on the quarter-deck anyway.

“Turn left — keep on their rear.”

“Working on it.”

It was good that they were on the same page, if slightly annoying, too. Everything about him was annoying, somehow, no matter the situation, she was finding. Blue knew how to manage herself in combat; it was him she worried for.

The sloop’s reaction to their presence was indeed a violent one; despite their lack of an angle, one of the crew tried their hand at landing cannonballs; their aim left something to be desired. Blue made note of their aggression and turned the wheel; there was still a lot of distance between the sloops, but she trusted Z to take the shots and maybe land some. She was surprised when, after three cannonballs were fired to test the angle, he succeeded. The sound of wood cracking could be heard as the other sloop’s upper decks and stern were pummelled.

As much as Blue would have liked to keep this up, the other ship turned in the opposite direction, denying them. A decision on how to turn the wheel took Blue longer than it needed to and their favourable positioning was not so favourable anymore. One shot was fired from the rival sloop — it narrowly missed them — and then Z had an angle once more. The accuracy he possessed was downright impressive; once he found the arc he needed, he denied the pirates a chance to man their cannon, alternating his aim slightly so that cannonballs alternated between ripping through the side of their ship and landing on the deck.

“You got this?” he asked, now standing closer to the muzzle of the cannon.

“Probably.”

Blue was unsurprised to watch him climb into the cannon and shoot himself out of it. What she was curious of is where he intended to land. Rolling and crumpling up on land was one thing — did he intend to land on the deck of their ship now? He didn’t manage that; Blue saw the splash quite far ahead of the sloop’s prow, but it made her wonder. What an advantageous position landing on their deck would have been.

With Z off ship, her focus shifted between the quarter-deck and manning the cannon herself. The sail and wheel were where she thought they ought to be so she vaulted over to the gun, taking shots as well as she could. It took four test shots before she found the ship’s hull. Luckily for her, she was not fired back upon for her shipmate had found their ladder and climbed aboard, causing chaos as its gunner and helmsman went to attack him personally. Blue heard a blunderbuss go off and spied swords colliding before she left the cannon and went back to the quarter-deck.

Keeping an eye on the other ship’s deck, Blue raised the sail of the Forlorn Phoenix halfway. Then she turned the wheel to bring the ship in closer as Z had dropped the other’s anchor, outright halting its movement. She pulled the sail up completely so the ship would drift to the other’s side. The two of them exchanged looks. Based on his now calm demeanour…

“I take it you won the hand-to-hand fight?”

“Uh huh,” he responded, grinning a grin of self-indulgence. The blood trailing down the side of his face seemed to bother him none.

Blue tilted her head at the other ship’s groaning. It listed to one side before the rolling motion of a wave mostly corrected it. “And have they anything?”

“I saw some goodies down low. We’ll grab ‘em when they float up.”

Sinking the ship seemed unnecessary at this point. Expending the effort and materials to patch it up, however, seemed like a waste. Still, something didn’t feel quite right; Blue kept those thoughts to herself as Z climbed back onto the Forlorn Phoenix and the other ship began to dip under the waves.

“What sort?” Blue asked. When he gave her a look and she knew that he didn’t understand, she clarified: “The goods. Of what sort were they?”

“Oh, a bit of this, a bit of that. They found all kinds’a things.”

“So they were scavengers.”

“Damned good ones at that. There was a lot of stuff in their lower decks.”

“I will take your word for it,” Blue said as she stepped off the quarter-deck and made her way to the hold. “I am going to make some tea while we wait.” Anything besides just sitting there and waiting for things to float up from the depths below…

When the items finally came to the surface, Blue was astonished by the variety. Most of the treasure chests were in poor condition, the brackets appearing as though someone had taken a hammer to them, barnacles coating the containers. It seemed as though the saltwater had attempted to corrode them open, to no avail. Crates that the Merchant Alliance would accept were in better condition, though that didn’t surprise her. All of the skulls they found seemed to be in the best of conditions and Blue found herself wondering if they could deteriorate. That raised more questions that she quickly pushed from her mind.

“This is… impressive,” she said as she looked over their yield.

“Yeah, it is. I wonder if they stole any of it.”

Blue shared that curiosity now. It was that or this crew was very good at finding shipwrecks just after they had gone down to discover that much loot within them. Now it was all theirs.

“Is Golden Sands or Plunder Outpost closer?”

Z looked up from a crate he was trying to identify, peering about. “They’re both pretty far.”

“That they are. Plunder, then? It was vacant last we saw with only the galleon in the north.”

He nodded, then asked, “Hey, what is this?”

“Uncategorised gemstones.” She got a kick out of the realisation that spread across his face.

*

Plunder Outpost was a far sail from where the scavengers had taken them. The Forlorn Phoenix made good time across that portion of the Ancient Isles thanks to a crosswind that persisted for half of their sailing. From there they could still see the galleon, if only barely.

The time it took Blue and Z to sell their contraband made her appreciate the time spent on the brigantine with his friend. Everything was worthwhile, but the number of times they made the walk from the ship to a Trading Company representative was dizzying. A fresh meal from the tavern was well appreciated.

“How much did we make?” Blue asked after downing half of what was on her plate.

Z hummed contently, playing with a gold coin. “More than what we got from Hidden Springs. And we only hafta split it two ways ,” he said as he pushed a fat pouch to her side of the table.

“A fair point.”

“See? It’s not so bad.”

Blue rose a brow at that comment but ultimately decided that it wasn’t worth responding to, instead changing the subject entirely.

“Now that we have more coin to our name, is it acceptable that we stop at an island for some time?”

Z gave her a hesitant look. “… Sure.” It was almost a question. Then: “What for?”

“We have been travelling for quite some time and now carry the supplies to fix my sail. Is resting for a few days while I do that not acceptable to you?”

He seem to consider those words for a moment, tapping the coin against the table, then nodded. “That’s acceptable.”

“Good.”

They sat in the tavern and finished their meal. Z insisted on spending some of their newly earned coin on drink; the pastime wasn’t for Blue so she spent the evening on the ship’s mid-deck. It was unsurprising when her shipmate stumbled past some time later, somehow without being as drunk as she had expected. Because of that, he went to bed early and woke early so they got breakfast at the inn before heading out.

Lookout Point was just to the southwest of Plunder Outpost. Though it was a small island, it was quite vertical with one area that was certainly responsible for its namesake. The view of the Ancient Isles from the highest point was fantastic with a similarly pretty cliff-side. The only downfall to this island was its small size.

After getting comfortable at the island, Z had absconded from the ship. This bothered Blue none as it allowed her to work to repair the torn sail in peace. She was in the literal middle of it when he returned with a rowboat.

“Where did you get that?” she inquired.

“West side’a the island.”

“Ah.” That made sense; they had come around from the east and stopped the ship on the south side.

“Ooh, it’s got stuff in it,” she heard him say from the stern.

“Is any of it of value?”

A long moment passed and Blue was about to turn and see what his problem was when a pineapple collided with the back of her head. Hands buried in fabric, she simply glared at him. “… was that really necessary?”

Z didn’t look like he had really meant that. He shrugged after stepping onto the mid-deck, arms full of ammunition and planks. Blue ignored him as he put those away and kept her attention on the task at hand. As much as she could, of course. It seemed that he had already become bored, standing on the other side of the ship to look over everything spread across the deck.

“So how’s it comin’?”

Blue counted to twelve before she answered. “As well as I had hoped. The tear is clean and only requires a strong, simple stitch.” She looked to the box of golden silk she had torn to use as thread for this task. Most of the sail was crumpled into an organised pile while the side that was torn was laid out flat. Z seemed curious about it and she was, too.

“Do you recognise this sail?”

“Can’t say I do, but it’s nice jus’ like everything else on this ship.”

She rose a brow at those words. “And what do you make of that?”

Z leaned against the mast and crossed his arms. “Nothin’ much. It’s jus’ a nice ship.”

“And others are not?”

He looked away and made a high-pitched noise. “Some are nicer than others.”

“What you mean is that some are better taken care of than others, correct?”

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

Blue shook her head. He was impossible and she only wanted some peace and quiet. “Go see if you can find some coconuts fat with water for us, will you?”

He made another noise before stepping away to do as asked. Blue was just glad that he did so without bickering.

Looking over the sail, she gauged that she was about a quarter of the way done with it. She had thought this would take a lot of time, but pulling the thick fabric together took more effort than she expected; more time would be required to fix this. Then, to make it a much simpler process than it had been on her own, she would need to convince Z to help take the replacement sail down and put the correct one up. Or perhaps she could explain it as a chore of the ship that he shouldn’t complain about in the first place.

Blue worked the sail while she considered her options. Her shipmate was quite a confrontational one. Why he was so difficult was something she couldn’t be certain of, but if anything, she thought that he got a kick out of it. Being problematic and making others uncomfortable seemed to be something he took pleasure in being good at.

He was getting better at finding the right kinds of coconuts, at least. She was pleased to see him return with the exact sort she had asked for. Would convincing him to help with the sail be as easy?

She gave him a cordial thanks as a coconut was handed off. Now was as good a time as any for a break so Blue sat against the closest cannon, retrieving her dagger from her hip to pierce open the top of the coconut. Z stood nearby, doing the same with a plain voting dagger. He eyed the damaged sail.

“What is it?” she asked.

“How long’s it gonna take to fix that?”

“A while.”

He wrinkled his nose, like he didn’t believe her. Instead of stating that as she expected, he asked, “Did it get pulled all the way apart?”

“Nearly. The other sloop rolled as it was sinking and its mast struck mine. Had it torn all the way, this might be easier.”

“Why not finish tearing it?”

“Easier said than done… And I would rather not risk. The damage is bad enough as is.”

He shrugged. “If you say so.”

“So I say. You are welcome to pick up a needle and help if it is not being mended fast enough for your liking.” He made an expression as though he were considering it. She wondered something else. “You do know how to sew, do you not?”

“Not sure I know how to sew to yer likin’.”

“Fair enough.” That was a good answer, and probably correct.

“I’ll stay outta yer way.”

“And refrain from interrupting?”

He sighed. “Sure.”

“The faster I get this done, the faster we can move on.”

Z stood there a moment longer before nodding and disappearing down to the hold.

Chapter 17: Ashen Reaches

Summary:

After repairing the Forlorn Phoenix’s sail and setting it up, Blue and Z head southeast into the Devil’s Roar, starting their search for anything interesting at Ashen Reaches.

Sitting at Lookout Point was far from an engaging experience. Taking out that sloop of scavengers had been good sport so Z had been in a good mood, good enough to agree to his shipmate’s idea to take a break and rest for a couple days. He had become fidgety just a day later and his attempts at conversation with her were referred to as pestering .

The fog in the distance had thickened enough that he could no longer spy the galleon to the north. In this time, Z had become quite perplexed by what it had been doing. He did not know the islands in that area to be particularly yielding of treasure, nor was he aware of anything else of interest around them, but that galleon had to be busy with something. Perhaps there had been two ships there at a previous time, engaged in combat and sunk each other. Exploring fresh shipwrecks could take some time, especially if they had begun to sink in earnest, but a seasoned crew wouldn’t be there that long.

This came to the forefront of his mind in the middle of the second day while he was laid out on a rock in the shade.

Z pushed thoughts of the galleon away from his mind. It was only riling him up and that was no good right now. He sat up on the rock — his rock , he decided — to peer out along the horizon again. He saw nothing of interest.

He should have suggested that they stay at the outpost for this. There, at least, would be plenty of drink and the off-chance of another crew coming by to entertain him.

This was a terrible way to be spending any significant amount of time, he decided. Blue didn’t seem bothered at all by their stay, not by her constant, repetitive work on the torn sail that brought them here, nothing at all. He couldn’t fathom how she didn’t find this offensive.

But Z? He was bored .

Too much time had been spent on this island. He was restless. Surely Blue had to be, too. He was up on his feet and back at the ship in no time, peering down from the quarter-deck to the sail that his shipmate was so affectionate towards.

“I am almost finished here.”

That was a surprise. “Really?”

“Really.” She gave him an unenthused look.

“Then…” He thought a little harder about it. “Then can we leave t’morrow?”

“Aye. That suffices. We will not be landing anywhere before the sun goes down.”

Finally . Z could hardly believe his ears. Though it likely meant that they would travel to Plunder Outpost once more before leaving the area properly, that still meant they could leave this damned island and that was all he really cared about.

“Would you like to help me change the sails tonight or in the morning?”

“S— what?”

More sternly, she said, “Would you like to help me swap the sails out later this evening or tomorrow morn?”

He was sure he squeaked and then decided that was ridiculous. Another moment was taken to consider his options, neither of which he enjoyed.

“Might as well do it t’night.”

She nodded and stood a moment later, looking over the sail. He did the same; it was a pretty design, but he was sure he had never seen it before and that frustrated him. More curious was Blue: he watched her pull her threading tight at one end, pulling the torn edges together. It was a good job; from a distance, it would be impossible to tell that it had ever been damaged in the first place. He wasn’t very good at sewing, just good enough to patch up a bad wound, so he could appreciate what he saw, had experienced. Having Blue around wasn’t such a bad thing.

He stayed quiet as he watched her continue to pull the sail together, entranced. It seemed she didn’t mind his company so much when he was quiet, though it was a good time for dinner, he thought.

“You hungry?”

“Hungry enough. Go find some water coconuts for us, will you?”

As content as he would have been to keep watching, Z grunted an acknowledgement and hopped from the ship to the rowboat and back to the island. Through his boredom, he had paid enough attention to the island’s trees to know exactly where to find the requested items. A tall boulder sat beside the tree so it was easy enough to reach up from there with his sword and free the coconuts. When he gathered them up, he found another nearby, one with leaves sprouting from it. He collected it, too, to show to Blue.

“Hey, what’s this?” he inquired once he was back on the main-deck with her.

She looked up, unimpressed. Then she took it from him, unsheathed her dagger and proceeded to open it. Inside was a normal looking ball of coconut meat.

“Simply a coconut that is beginning to grow into a tree,” she said as she handed every piece of it back to him.

“Oh.” He absentmindedly chewed on it while he considered this. So that’s why they fell from the tree: they were seeds.

He made a noise to get Blue’s attention and handed about half of the sphere back to her. She gave him the vague look she always did — he still wasn’t sure what to make of it — and then accepted it, allowing him to head downstairs to work on getting food for them started.

A splashtail sounded as good as ever, especially after starting off with something as sweet as that coconut. He found a fresh one in the barrel and threw it on the stove to cook, flipping it when it seemed about time. Once it was thoroughly cooked, he made his way back topside. Blue had sat herself down against a cannon, a little ways away from the sailcloth. He snapped the fish in half and handed her the tail-end before sitting down against the mast.

“So why bother fixin’ that sail if it was so much trouble?” he asked after a time.

Blue seemed to take offence to the conversation, and not because she wasn’t done eating. “Anything worth doing is troublesome.”

I mean…” He shrugged and motioned to the sail that was already rigged up. “Y’ve already got a workin’ sail…”

“Yes, but it is not this ship’s sail.”

“Huh.” That gave him something to think about and after a moment, he decided that her words made sense. He still didn’t see the point in spending so much time on something that wasn’t necessary when it could be spent hunting, but he understood. “I guess.”

“Besides, you have not had to do any of the work yourself until now.”

“I’m bored as hell.”

She made an amused noise. “Fair enough, but I would expect you to like a few days of doing nothing.”

“Guess I’m not really for it.”

She made another noise as she finished her piece of fish.

“ Anyway , why don’t we take care of that sail now?”

Z was surprised by the athleticism that his shipmate displayed when she climbed out onto the mast’s yard and her balance never faltered while she was up there. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised — she had told him before that she changed the sails out on her own and the proof was there.

Though he had agreed to help, Z didn’t take any charge, instead waiting for Blue to tell him what she needed. This proved beneficial to his workload; all he had to do was move the plain sail aside and keep the repaired sail steady as she hoisted it up via the ropes. Still, Blue had the easier job, using her weight to pull it up rather than hauling it.

“That was exhausting.”

Blue snickered sharply before quieting herself.

“Is that all?” he asked.

“That is all. You have some more time to yourself tonight—”

He groaned loudly. More time to himself would be boring. At least they had agreed to get moving again in the morning.

“I’ll be on my rock,” he declared before disembarking.

*

Morning couldn’t come fast enough for Z. He had spent much of the evening dozing until sleep took him in earnest. It was early when he wrenched himself free of his rock yet Blue had still somehow gotten up before him so she got breakfast cooking — a fresh splashtail — for the both of them while he finished waking up. She ate and then got the ship moving while he ate.

He was pleasantly surprised when they went east instead of north.

They passed by Booty Isle, an unremarkable island by all accounts. Thieves’ Haven was far more interesting. One of the largest charted islands in the Sea of Thieves, wide and tall, it was easy for any pirate to get lost there. It was a nice island to pass by and visit, a terrible one to have a voyage at.

Apparently, Blue had never had any reason to stop by and explore the island. That seemed to be a running theme with her. Once there, though, he could hardly keep track of her through the island foliage. They had started from the southwest end of the island and were now atop the southeastern side, stood before a group of massive rocks with faces carved into them.

“What do you make of these?” she asked after some time of observation.

Z shrugged and made an ‘ehh’ sort of noise.

“What, just—” Blue mimicked him.

He shrugged more fiercely. “I never thought about it. Sometimes they’re in riddles, but that’s it.”

“Giant stones carved into the shape of heads, complete with faces, is not something that crosses your mind as strange?”

“Not really.”

“The past of this place never weighs on your mind?”

“No, not really. Don’t make a difference to me what people did years before I came along. I won’t care what they do after I’m gone, neither.”

She hummed and turned back to the stone heads that stood many times taller than they did.

“And what about the cave system down low?”

“Ehh, I’ve explored some of it. Never found anythin’ good, though.”

“Fair enough.”

They moved on from that spot, stopping at whatever Blue seemed to find interesting, though she didn’t voice any more thoughts. She took great interest in the stone carvings and paintings on the island, something that Z realised must have been how she spent all of her time on Plunder Valley some days ago. He hated that island and nothing would ever change his mind about it. This one wasn’t too high up on his list of favourites, either.

Later in the evening, they were back on the ship for dinner. They had worked up appetites exploring the island so Blue caught a pair of splashtails for them. From the stove, she asked him a question through the main-deck’s grate.

“Why not stop the ship in the centre of the island?”

“‘Cause by the time y’ spot another ship comin’ at ya, it’s too late to make a good getaway or meet ‘em out on the water.”

She seemed to consider his words. It was only when she came topside with their food in hand that she said anything more.

“It is something for larger crews to consider, hm? They have the leisure of stopping like that.” He gave her a look, mostly because his mouth was stuffed with fish. “Surely a lookout atop the island would spot any potential dangers far before they came close. If the ship were in the centre, one could get back to it quickly from any point on the island.”

“Counterpoint! Someone should always be on the ship anyway. Ev’ryone keeps watch no matter what they’re doin’ but that doesn’t matter if no one can move the ship.”

She made a thoughtful noise and let the matter rest so they could eat. Z spoke after a while.

“Hey, if we need t’, we can stop at Ancient Spire, but after that, why don’t we keep goin’ east?”

Blue paused mid-sip of her tankard of grog. “Keep going east?” she repeated carefully. “Into the Devil’s Roar?”

“Yeah. Whaddya think?”

She looked offended. “Why?”

“There might be somethin’ in’erestin’ goin’ on there. That sloop was nothin’ and that gally up north ain’t doin’ anythin’, neither.”

She just stared at him.

“… y’ have been t’ the Roar, haven’t ya?”

“My visits have never lasted long. I do not move cargo there on account of the… difficulties.”

He snickered. “Comes with the shinier treasure.”

“What do you mean?”

“Y ever find any goodies in a shipwreck or on an island that was dark and red or somethin’ like that? We call ‘em ashen treasures; they’re just about the other thing y’ find out in the Roar. The Trading Companies give ya extra for ‘em, too.”

Blue made a thoughtful noise. “Suffer the hazards of the Devil’s Roar, recover these soot-covered treasures, get paid more…”

“Now y’re gettin’ it.”

“Very well, but I will be charting each volcano’s location and approximate range for my own map.”

He chuckled. “Fine, fine.”

*

When the Forlorn Phoenix was at its closest to Ancient Spire Outpost, the duo had a small debate as to whether or not to swing north and stop there. They could grab more supplies and see about some niceties, though they were not in dire need of either. There were no other crews present at the outpost to mingle with and neither of them were fond of stopping for the sake of stopping so they continued east.

From Devil’s Ridge, they turned somewhat south. Z had argued a case for scouring the entire Devil’s Roar, starting from the south end. A strong wind took them past Roaring Sands and all the way to Ashen Reaches, the most southern island in the Roar.

Further southeast of that island was a sprawling rock formation jutting out of the ocean; such sights were common in the region, but that one garnered more of Blue’s attention than usual.

“It’s just a volcano, I think. No reason to be over there,” he explained.

The formation being ‘just a volcano’ wasn’t good enough for Blue. A galleon could hide itself over in that area, but the proximity to the vast nothingness out there and the presence of a volcano seemed to relax her, if only enough to drop the matter. Throughout the evening, Z spotted her occasionally checking that direction anyway.

As a whole, Blue seemed very uneasy. Considering their location, that was reasonable, he supposed. Having spent so much time in the Roar, it no longer surprised him; at worst, the volcanos’ eruptions were inconveniences.

“There’s always an earthquake before an eruption,” he explained while they ate dinner. That seemed to calm Blue’s nerves some.

“There have been earthquakes consistently since we arrived, and the air reeks of sulphur. How do you know when one is to be taken seriously?”

He shrugged. “Act like every one is serious.”

Blue stared at him, his attempt to soothe her now failing.

“Then we take turns sleeping.”

Z grumbled. “I guess that’s not a bad idea…”

“Have you a better one?”

He made a face but didn’t dare voice the thought that they simply tank the eruptions as they came. They weren’t a large enough ship for that anyway.

“I guess we’ll take turns sleepin’. A lot, I guess.”

“Yes, I suppose much of our days out here will be spent with someone sleeping…” Blue’s words indicated that they seemed to be in agreement.

Z’s thoughts went back to their time on the brigantine. His shipmate had seemed grumpy when she didn’t get to sleep at her usual time. He was better at sleeping whenever, wherever, so he suggested, “You sleep when y’ us’ally do; I’ll sleep whenever I feel like.”

That arrangement would work just fine for him. Blue looked surprised, then nodded. “Very well.”

Then her attention was on the island beside them. He’d seen that look on her face before, the look of someone who hadn’t explored somewhere and wanted to. He didn’t hide his amusement as he stood.

“Ready t’ take a walk?”

Blue gave him a look before she begrudgingly finished her half of splashtail and stood. They made their way to the ship’s stern and moved the rowboat, placing it between the ship and the beach.

They stood under the island’s volcano on a tiny beach. The solid rock before them opened up into a tunnel that led through some of the island’s verticality. Besides swimming, this was the only path for them to take and so they did. Throughout the hall, orange-reddish crystals sprung out from the ground, walls, and even the ceiling, illuminating the way.

Had there not been an opening in the ceiling for light to pour through, Blue might have walked past an altar in the tunnel. A skull with four arms was situated on a large, flat rock; beside that were a handful of other skulls, seemingly forgotten in the assembly. Z and Blue both stood before the scene for a time.

“What is this?” she asked.

“Y’know… I have no idea.”

They looked at each other; he shrugged. Blue shook her head and turned to keep going.

Before them were two paths: to the right, the way opened up slightly before it ended. The path to the left took them through the remainder of the tunnel system, throwing them out onto a beach that was only a little ways away from the ship. Blue was visibly annoyed by this.

They turned right and went more inland. The rock that helped form a slope seemed quite ordinary until Blue stopped before it took in a painting on the side. With a reddish paint, three skulls were marked on it, semi-straight lines above them.

Blue looked at him and he shook his head. She didn’t look surprised, just disappointed, and walked past him, opting to ignore the upward slope for now. She took them along a path until they could see the shoreline on the other side of the island, eventually stopping at yet another painting on a rock. White and red were used to create markings that seemed to resemble an erupting volcano and people below it.

“Do you… Do you never think about these?” she asked.

“Not very hard.”

Blue approached the painting, tracing the edges with her fingertips. “Some of the people here are upside-down… Dead, I suppose. And that—” she pointed “—the base of the volcano goes far beneath their feet. The brimstones are skulls.”

Z looked at her.

“You never think about these?”

“The paintings on islands aren’t us’ally… like this? They’re usually plain marks, a fire, some dots, mer, maybe a hunter with a spear. The ones out here are a bit dif’rent.”

“I see. The Devil’s Roar itself is entirely different compared to the rest of the known Sea of Thieves.”

“That’s prob’ly it.”

Blue said nothing more and carried on, finding a path that led upwards. She stopped between two rock formations where something that might have been a gate at one time was. On either side of it was a boar skull on a post, human skulls scattered about on the ground. She didn’t look at him for his thoughts on this one, instead moving on after a moment of her own consideration. Then she made a noise and stopped.

“What is this ?”

Z stopped beside her and followed her line of sight. Nestled into the end of a shallow cave was another altar; skulls were piled about, one flipped upside-down and used as a candle holder. In the centre was another painting: three skulls together before a crystal clump. Two large, curved bones caressed the entire thing.

Z shrugged with the most effort he had shown so far, making an ‘iunno’ noise at her. Judging by her expression, he wondered how close she was to hitting him. “I mean, y’re not wrong— this is really weird.”

She sighed, exasperated, and moved on past the altar. Further upwards they hiked, coming to a point where it seemed like the earth was collapsing. Perhaps that was exactly the case as he almost fell into a cave opening. He stepped around to the side opposite Blue. Both of them looked at it before deciding against going inside, instead moving towards a still-burning torch. There was a ruined box, a smaller box, and a stool beside it. If one were to sit down, they would have a fantastic view of the sea to the north.

“I am amazed that anything from previous travellers has survived here,” she commented as she examined a book before putting it back down.

Considering the harshness of the Devil’s Roar, Z was inclined to agree with her. This ledge must have been someone’s outpost at some point, but that had been long ago if the ruined and scorched nature of everything was any hint.

Without saying anything more or waiting for his comments, Blue turned around and headed back down the slope. He found that curious but followed nonetheless. His curiosity grew as they came back to the second altar; it was another moment before Z realised that her interest was in the rock formation itself. Even an honest jump wouldn’t get one started up that way so he hadn’t even considered it. Blue, on the other hand, was happy to grip the edges and pull herself up.

“You coming?”

Climbing up there was the last thing he expected out of her. It was also the most annoying thing that she could have done. The rock was quite angled; even with two good feet, it took some effort on her part to stay steady. Despite the difficulty, Z was less willing to be left behind.

Hiding his annoyance, he followed her up.

The rock was steep, but they were able to take a few good strides upward. To his eye, there was no way further up with the way the formation had cracked; to his furthered surprise, Blue placed herself in the crack, gripped both sides of it, and began pulling herself up along it. With a roll of his eyes, he followed her up, mimicking her motions.

At the top of this great formation was some relatively flat ground for them to stand on, though it was cramped with the two of them. Nearby, from the crack burst forth a considerably sized bunch of crystals.

“This is better.”

He looked to Blue, then followed her gaze. They stood on the second highest point of the island — surely Blue wouldn’t consider climbing up the volcano — and it was quite a view in almost every direction.

“Well, y’re not wrong ‘bout that…”

Despite his words, Z was far from comfortable, contrasting his shipmate’s relaxed posture. They were quiet a moment longer before she sat down on the north edge, apparently content to stay up there. Between the difficulty of the climb and the lack of space, he was eager to go back down.

“I’m gonna go back to the ship now,” he said, looking over the way they had come.

Blue looked him over. “Do you need help going down?”

“I’ll manage,” he said, beginning the trek down. He was vaguely aware of her watching him until he disappeared from her view, just above the altar. Taking the same way further down was unnecessary, he decided, opting instead to slide off the formation at that point. The fall was just high enough to make his knees sting when he landed; it was far from the worst he had suffered, though.

Back on comfortable dirt, Z shook himself free of the weariness that had claimed his form during the climb. On the walk back to the ship, he decided two things: Blue was definitely insane, and now would be the perfect time to get a few hours of sleep.

Chapter 18: The Devil's Roar

Summary:

Blue and Z explore the Devil’s Roar, but it’s not without its risks.

The events of the previous day had been more than enough to thoroughly tire Z out. He didn’t wake on his own, instead jerking awake to realise Blue had been pulling on his foot. As he propped himself up on his elbows to get a good look at her, he decided that she was either very tired or had been trying to rouse him for a while and become annoyed. Perhaps it was both. Either way, he got the message.

“All right, I’m up.”

She returned custody of his foot to him and stepped away. With his toes free, Z sat up properly and shuffled to the end of the bed, retrieving his pegleg from underneath it. Just as he got it settled on, Blue reappeared beside him. She stepped around to his other side and kicked her boots off before curling up in the bed where he had just been. In the heat of the Devil’s Roar, he was surprised that she still insisted on pulling a single blanket over herself.

But for some reason, Z found the entire sight a little funny. He snickered, asking, “What’s with you?”

She grunted, then said a moment later, “You slept all day.”

“Ah.” That explained why he felt so well-rested and why she was so impatient. Another chuckle, then: “Just couldn’t wait t’ take my spot, huh?”

All Z received in response was a grunt in response. When he voiced his amusement with another chuckle, Blue said, “The earthquakes were relentless and the southern volcano erupted shortly after you went to sleep. It is still erupting. It has been a long day.”

“Sounds like a normal day in the Roar.”

“Hmm.”

“Hey, did any other volcanoes go off? I’m won—”

He was surprised when Blue sat up to put her hands on either side of his jaw and made him look at her.

“Z, if you don’t stop talking, I am going to rip every single hair out of your head.”

Three things crossed his mind: the first was that this was the only time he could remember her saying his name; the second was that this was one of the few times she had ever touched him, and never quite this much; the third was that such a threat was strange but its validity stood — the idea was not a pleasant one. All of this amounted to a general feeling of confusion that left him speechless long enough for Blue to smile at him, pat his cheek and curl back up on her side, apparently satisfied with his silence.

Should he respond to her again, even a mere acknowledgement, Z didn’t doubt that he would find her making good on her threat. Besides, the silence between them was comfortable and Blue looked even more so — best to not mess that up, he decided.

Leg secured, shipmate nestled into bed, Z made his way out onto the deck to find that they were still sitting at Ashen Reaches. The Roar was just as it always was: hot and dark with a constant sooty taste and look to the air. The region was not a pleasant one, but its familiarity was.

An earthquake pulled him from his thoughts, the ship wiggling in response. Between that and the knowledge that Blue could sleep through the rocking motions of a moving ship, it seemed as good a time as any to leave this island. Shortly after doing just that, a loud booming noise caught Z’s attention. He turned away from the helm for a moment to confirm that yes , it was the island’s volcano erupting and not cannon fire. Good timing indeed.

*

When Z had lowered the sail to get the ship moving, it hadn’t been with much purpose and so he spent quite some time considering his course options. They could backtrack some to the small island of Roaring Sands or head northeast to The Devil’s Thirst, another large island with a volcano feature. He chose the latter. There, a skeleton welcomed their arrival with a cannonball. This was typical, but the aim of such skeletons was always up in the air. This one’s was not so good and so Z was able to avoid damage to the ship and allotted plenty of time to traverse the island and personally put the skelly down.

As far as he knew, Blue had slept the entire way to The Devil’s Thirst. When he returned to the ship, he checked to see if the commotion had changed that. From what he could see of her underneath the light blanket, she was tense, and he doubted she would totally ignore such noises.

With the ship to himself, it was time to decide what to do with all his free time. Supplies were in short supply in the Roar thanks to its destructive nature — which also made many pirates shy away entirely — and they had stocked up plenty before entering it, so scavenging was out of the question. Exploring the island was out of the question for him — there was nothing to explore. The islands in the Roar were fairly barren and he had been here plenty of times before.

In the end, Z ended up doing a whole lot of nothing. He would never admit to having napped in the chair out of sheer boredom. Besides, the slightest of earthquakes had awoken him so by his reasoning, the ship was never in any danger. He doubted that Blue would see his side of that story, though, so when she got up, he made no mention of it despite being sat in the chair yet again.

The two of them shared a coconut shortly after that when she decided she wanted to eat; this consisted of him eating what she didn’t. After that, they took a tour of the island just like before. Ashen Reaches was a larger island than The Devil’s Thirst was so they spent less time aimlessly walking around. Blue still took the time to stop and look at any points of interest that she found especially intriguing. Part of a ship that had been hauled out of the water and up onto a hill to be made a shelter had fascinated her especially.

“Well, y’ can’t really build stuff out of a few burnt palm trees,” Z had explained.

“No, no, you cannot. I suppose it makes sense to recycle ships like this.”

Just as before, Blue lingered at paintings on the rocks, too. She seemed to find those especially interesting this time, stopping at the second one they came across. Just like most of the others, this one seemed to depict people dying to something in the environment.

“Does it not strike you as odd that there are only three paintings on this island?”

Z was annoyed that he had been right to expect a question of that nature from her, yet not as much as he was to be following her around. “That’s all they needed, I guess.”

Blue wrinkled her nose.

They spent a little while longer on land. It seemed that Blue wasn’t as totally fascinated with this place as she had been with Ashen Reaches, but they did linger a good amount of time at the peak where the rock formation may have once come together. Perhaps, he decided, she had been considering luring him into a position where she could push him off, but there was enough water down below for him to survive the fall. No, she would not find any relief from his presence right now. It was that or she just liked the view of the horizon even more than he did.

When they finally got back to the ship, Blue immediately made her way to the map table. Curious, he followed close behind.

"How long have we been here?”

“Not long. I left Ashen Reaches jus’ after y’ went t’ bed.”

“I spied nothing around us from up there…”

“Y’ could always fire yerself out of the cannon t’ look ‘round better.”

Blue looked up from the table to stare at him.

“… what?” It was a valid tactic. With the cannon aimed as far upward as it would go, a pirate could shoot themselves higher than just about any island in the Sea of Thieves was tall. Surely she understood this; he only stared back, unable to fathom that she didn’t.

She sighed and shook her head. “My point is that there is nothing around us here, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Then we should move on.”

“Sure.” Sailing with two was easier than one anyway. “Where to?”

“Any arguments concerning this island?” she inquired, pointing to Magma’s Tide.

“None.”

There was nothing interesting about that island. The sole outpost of the region was closer, but he thought it might be a good idea to steer clear of it to avoid spooking any nearby ships they were yet to discover. Besides, from Magma’s Tide, they might be able to spot someone hiding behind Ruby’s Fall…

“And, I think the volcano is too far t’ hit it. It’d be a good place to relax.”

“It sounds like an ideal place to journey to and rest well at.”

Z nodded his head.

*

The waves of the Devil’s Roar were tall and fierce, just like in the Wilds. Here, however, the presence of volcanoes explained its condition, why everything was grey and dull. The Roar even had more valuable treasure to be discovered within its reach. the Wilds had no such pleasantries or explanation — it was dreary for no good reason at all.

Unlike the previous two islands they had stayed at, Magma’s Tide was a little thing. To the north was a sea volcano and to the west was The Devil’s Thirst; both of these volcanoes were too far away to pose any threat to the little island that lacked its own. They would erupt during their time spent at Magma’s Tide to prove this point, sparing the Forlorn Phoenix of any damage sans a little dusting of ash.

Further still to the north were two small islands that were a tad closer to the sea volcano. Slightly to the northwest of that was Brimstone Rock; Z had been there a few times before, always on good business. Slightly to the east was Glowstone Cay, a tiny thing so close to the Red Sea that he was certain that it was occasionally inaccessible due to its wavering nature. Z had visited that island on the way to more good business many times before, so it too was a welcome sight. On the contrary, Magma’s Tide was an island he could barely remember even existed.

Despite the plainness of the island, Blue still felt the need to disembark and explore it. She climbed up to the top of its rocky peak and sat there for quite some time; he wasn’t sure what to make of that. He was learning that Blue seemed to have a penchant for climbing things, and he decided that he didn’t mind. At her position, she could keep an eye out for anything of interest, and it meant they got some proper time away from each other; that was nice when cooped up on a little ship like this one.

From there, they went to Glowstone Cay. Blue found the island’s name to be interesting and Z hadn’t said anything bad about it. Apparently, that was all that was required for her to take them that way over.

Their time there was initially one of nervousness for the nearby sea volcano had erupted just as they arrived. Ash fell from the sky and some chunks of brimstone seemed to taunt them, landing close enough to alter the air around them. When it was done, they gave the island a good once over. Despite the comments made towards it, the island was of simple nature and held nothing of interest to it but its name. The best thing they found was a single bounty skull in water just deep enough to hide it from less keen eyes.

Some time was spent debating where to go from there. To the west and slightly north was the one outpost of the region: Morrow’s Peak. More directly north of them was Ruby’s Fall, an island known for erupting in the presence of incoming ships. When questioned about his desire to avoid the outpost, Z explained that it was in their favour to stay away from it to avoid spooking any nearby ships into becoming more skittish; the more desirable loot found in this region could make even the most stoic of crews nervous. When questioned about Ruby’s Fall, he could offer no explanation for its volcano’s behaviour except that it was just like that and everyone knew it. She seemed dissatisfied with this but didn’t push the subject.

Despite the danger, Ruby’s Fall was exactly where they ended up. Just as he had said it would, the volcano erupted when they were close enough to be in danger. Blue turned the ship around and they waited for it to quiet from outside of its range. Z thought this was quite boring.

Like other islands, the volcanic peak of Ruby’s Fall was tall enough to shelter a ship from the prying eyes of another crew. Z was fairly certain that they were alone, though not entirely. When he spotted Blue disembarking to explore this island as well, he decided she could ascertain the certainty of his gut before changing his mind a little while later and joining her.

Upon this island was more of the same: paintings of things wreathed in fire or underneath volcanoes that were erupting. On the highest part of the island were minimalistic structures that had perhaps provided some basic shelter for pirates at another time, some basic supplies left behind as well. They were of no use now, however, withered by time.

Only two things of interest were on this island: one was the brazier that had been set up years ago for the Festival of the Damned. Blue accepted a simple explanation regarding it and lit it with her lantern, the pink flame exploding into life within it. Nearby was a sheer drop; directly below was the skeleton of a pirate who had somehow fallen long ago, their remaining articles quite curious. Z took great amusement in Blue’s expression when she noticed it below them, as though she were making sure that he hadn’t gotten any silly ideas. Then she climbed down the way to the beach below and he had to follow her.

“Odd necklace on this one,” Blue had pointed out. It was a simple black chain the pirate had worn, a molten red glyph that was loosely shaped like a flame attached.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Z had passed this skeleton so many times in his travels that he barely recalled that this one was someone of note. Their name and what that noteworthy thing might have been, however, eluded him at the moment.

He stood nearby while Blue examined the corpse and its belongings. While the matter was of little interest to him, but Blue had the talent to make the most simple things take as long as possible. And besides, what else were they going to do all day?

All of the paintings in this region were rather similar to each other, and that bored Z. Blue, however, wasn’t satisfied and seemed to want to commit them to memory. He was just glad that she didn’t take even more time to draw copies of them or try to involve him in some sort of discussion again. In fact, this time around he didn’t even stay with her to inspect any of the island’s points of interest after doing a thorough once-over and pointing out the corpse of Ruby — that was their name, right? The island was named after their death, after all. It made sense in his head, though he didn’t voice it.

Once Blue had satisfied her curiosity sometime later and discovered a gilded chalice in the sand, they rested for a time. Ruby’s Fall was a good place to sit and observe a good portion of the Devil’s Roar. At any time, a number of volcanoes could be seen erupting so a ship — or two, if you were lucky — could be spotted moving from island to island or stopped out in the open ocean. Even with this location, finding ships was proving difficult for the crew of the Forlorn Phoenix . A fog bank rolling in from the north was not helping matters.

After they had both napped, Z had reasoned, “We should get goin’. Everythin’ else is blowin’ up and Ruby’s is due any time now and we can’t see past that fog anyway.”

Blue had agreed with him. The island offered nothing more for them and even she was itching to move again. As he had predicted and pointed out, Ruby’s Fall had erupted upon their arrival and its next imminent eruption had the both of them slowly becoming more and more on edge.

They skipped past Flintlock Peninsula entirely and went north to Cursewater Shores. It was a tiny island with a shallow crater in the middle where freshwater collected and was warmed by the Roar. Blue decided that this was particularly strange, but neither of them found it intolerable. Cleaning off all the ash residue that the volcanoes spewed was a welcome thought to Z, though they both agreed to save the bathing until just before they were ready to move on again.

With that in mind, Z considered their options from the crow’s nest. As useful a vantage point as it was, a sloop wasn’t nearly as tall as a galleon and he couldn’t see much further through the fog than he could on the deck of the ship. Their position was perfect to see the rest of the Roar that they had yet to scour, but the fog was making that very difficult. Instead, he decided after becoming thoroughly frustrated, he would take a look from the highest point he could manage by shooting himself out of a cannon.

As he did that, Blue watched with a weary eye, spyglass in hand. He only paid a little bit of attention to her, silently finding her expression funny as he pointed the cannon as far up as it would go. She’d figure it out when he launched himself.

Even in the Devil’s Roar, the wind nipped at one’s face when flying out of a cannon. Years of flights made it a mere minor discomfort for Z. As he reached the peak of his arc, he brought his spyglass up to his face, scanning from north to west. It was distant and the fog still managed to impede his vision quite a lot, but he was damned certain that he saw the masts of a brigantine in the direction of Fetcher’s Rest.

When the mer brought him back to the ship and threw him aboard, Blue was waiting with only a slightly concerned — disapproving? — expression, her arms crossed.

“Brigantine that-a-way,” he said with a finger pointed in said direction. “I think.” He swore he heard her snort when he launched himself again.

This time he spent the entirety of his hang time looking in that one direction. He paid more attention to all that was to be seen there, realising that it was the volcano of Fetcher’s Rest that was erupting, explaining why the brigantine was further to the north than it ought to be if visiting the island. Approaching the ship with any amount of cover beside the fog would be impossible, and a brig was taller than a sloop was. The nearest sea volcano was also spewing smoke; sloop and brigantine alike would be hunkering down for a while longer still.

Blue looked quite exasperated when the same mer brought him back to the ship again. “Are you done?”

He couldn’t fathom what about this behaviour was annoying her. “What’s the matter?”

“It is loud and you are dripping water and dirt everywhere on the deck.”

“Right. Whatever. There’s a brig over there at Fetcher’s for sure. No way we can approach ‘em without ‘em seein’ us, though.”

It seemed she was considering her response, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. Before she could speak, an explosion sounded nearby. Both of them looked to the sea volcano to observe its beginning eruption.

“I think we are not going anywhere anytime soon.”

And right she was. Even Z wasn’t interested in dealing with two volcanoes one after another, brash as he was. After deciding with confidence that the ship was sitting outside of the volcano’s range, the duration of their eruptions was spent relaxing as much as they could. During this time the two of them got their separate baths. Blue even cleaned a good amount of clothes and bedding with the time that they had on their hands. She also insisted on shaving his face again and Z could come up with no good excuse against this.

It was late into the night when the last volcano finally went quiet again and Z thought it was a good idea that they get going. The only problem with that was Blue sleeping in her usual spot. Waking her up would no doubt annoy her, but the idea of picking her up and moving her to the bed didn’t strike him as a very good one; he was certain that she always kept that dagger somewhere on her person and she might take more offence than usual to his presence… Ultimately, he decided on waking her up similarly to how she had done to him not so long ago, careful to not give her any reason to snap at him. A few minutes were allotted to her to wake up, and then to listen to his plan; when she was agreeable to this, he decided that it must have been early , not late.

With that settled, the two of them set out. The fog had not lifted at all in the time they spent waiting on the volcanoes; if anything, it had gotten worse. Navigating was a pain. A quick conversation led to Z climbing up into the crow’s nest to keep an eye out for any obstacles that they might sail into. The mast of a sloop wasn’t very tall, but it was just enough for a good set of eyes to keep the ship safe if they moved slowly.

He really hated how slow they went. It was a necessity, but it didn’t help his moodiness. By the time they reached Fetcher’s Rest, the brigantine was long gone. With a fresh launch from the cannon, he spied the ship heading northerly and cursed himself for not occasionally doing that to take in their surroundings. Then again, such repetition might have attracted an obnoxious school of mer, or they might have alerted the brig to their presence. It would have helped their time, though.

With nothing going on yet again, Blue had reasoned that they should rest, exhausted by sailing through the fog. Z was having none of it so she took to the bed downstairs and he kept them moving forward. The closest charted island out of the Devil’s Roar was Liar’s Backbone so that was where Z aimed the ship. He was especially glad for this when the volcano of Fetcher’s Rest erupted once more.

He paid no mind to it until a sizzling noise caught his attention to the side: ember-fall. A moment later, a chunk of brimstone landed in the water nearby with a mighty splash. He paused to consider this, too. Then he decided that there wasn’t much to consider about this: his only option was to keep the ship moving and hope nothing worse than hot ash landed on it.

Sailing through the rain of a volcano was a tense situation for anyone. Where most pirates would panic, Z was rather calm. At a point, he leaned against the wheel to brush an ember off the railing. His head was already turned and a feeling in his gut compelled him to look further to the side until he was looking behind himself.

There was only a moment to wonder if the brimstone would kill him or not, and then there was nothing at all.

Chapter 19: Divided

Summary:

While waiting for Z to come back from the Ferry of the Damned, Blue unexpected meets up with some friends on his. She then makes a decision.

When the brigantine had been spotted at Galleon’s Grave Outpost, Blue had expected trouble out of it. Z would have with his paranoid tendencies, and she knew that he would have impressed the same upon her through worrisome remarks. Instead, she looked at the ship more closely. It was pressed up against the dock in a relaxed position, as though its crew intended to stay for some time. There was no one about when she pulled the Forlorn Phoenix beside it before stationing the ship at the other end of the dock. She had also been able to better look at its armaments and minimal decorations — this was no unknown ship, she had sailed on it before.

So when she disembarked from her sloop and made her way to the tavern, she was only minorly surprised to find it empty. She then stepped back outside and looked up and was waved at. She waved back purely out of politeness.

Jackson and his mate — she couldn’t recall his name, just knew that they dressed the same and that the other man was a toothpick compared to Jackson — had been busy since they parted ways at Sanctuary Outpost. She was unsurprised to hear that the situation had indeed been misunderstood — somehow her gut just knew that Z had been right about that. When he told her about how only one person was waiting for him at Golden Sands Outpost when he finally arrived, new plans were made to compensate. Apparently, this crewmate that he had picked up was one that they frequently sailed with. Something about his wording had made her suspicious of his reliability, however.

While Blue had found herself curious about the whole extended crew, it wasn’t enough that she spoke up and actually asked about it beyond a few minor questions to pass the time with. The maximum number of people that Jackson had expected was six; only three had shown and only the one had stayed. Z had been the only one to show up at Sanctuary, the only one who took the mistake in earnest, and she got the feeling it was a minor miracle that he had appeared at all.

On the contrary, the men had far more questions that they asked Blue. Her lonely arrival in a sloop in great need of a shipwright’s touch had concerned Jackson until she explained what she thought had happened, that she had awoken to a great rocking of the ship and some sort of loud noise while exiting the Devil’s Roar was all that he needed to know.

Those conversations had happened a while ago. Though they had been recorded, Blue hadn’t actively counted the days that had passed, taking the quiet time aboard the sloop in stride. Much of her time was spent at the table writing, but much had also been spent sleeping, alternating between her usual spot and the bed when she felt like napping during the day.

She was greatly thankful that Jackson and his crewmate had respected her space as much as they had. Or perhaps they had simply been busying themselves to much to bother her. It didn’t hurt her situation when another sloop had shown up and occupied their time for much of one day, and she appreciated the exotic tea procured from them. She was… less appreciative of their methods used to obtain said tea, though she held her tongue regarding that matter.

When she realised that she was beginning to grow bored of being at the outpost, Blue searched for the other crew to discuss that. Eventually, she looked up once again and spotted them at the peak of the galleon that made up the outpost’s namesake. Why, she had to ask them.

“What are you doing?”

“Lookin’ around,” Jackson’s crewmate replied.

Jackson seemed to have something on his mind. “Hey, I got t’ thinkin’ — it’s been a while since Z got smashed, hasn’t it?”

“I suppose it has. Why?”

“Well, sometimes we go and find each other on the Ferry when it takes this long.”

“… I believe I follow…”

“So we was wonderin’ what ship he’d come back on if one of us went and did that,” his crewmate blurted out.

Blue was certain that she was understanding them correctly. If a crewmate’s trip to the Sea of the Damned was taking a particularly long time, a living member may… go looking for them, in a manner of speaking. If one knew a group of friends had a ship and space for them to come back to, would they? She was under the assumption that crews required agreements amongst each other to formally group up as a crew. Perhaps it was different for closer individuals. That had her curious.

“That is a good question.”

The two men looked from her to each other, nodding. Jackson’s mate had started to say something before he yelped, having been pushed. Jackson laughed. Blue was a little more horrified than he was, needing a moment to gather herself before she was able to force a small chuckle despite the thud down below.

That had been a couple of nights ago. On this night, a cold rainstorm had Blue down in the hold and in the bed proper when she awoke. Whether it was before or after waking that she felt Z sit at the foot of the bed, she wasn’t sure, but she refrained from yelling at him when she saw how rough he looked. She sat up on her right arm and paused long enough for him to look from the ceiling to her, expression shifting to one of slight surprise.

“Took you long enough,” she said.

“Yeah, well, y’ don’t really get a choice in the matter.”

“ And you chose now to come back.”

“Woman, I swear—” Apparently he wasn’t up for this fight, instead stopping himself from saying more and rubbing his eyes.

“Look, I’m tired. That was a rough trip. I jus’ wanna get some sleep,” he said. Without waiting for her response, he swung his legs onto the bed behind her. “And I don’t think y’re about t’ go sleep in the rain and neither am I.”

Nothing that Z had pointed out had been inaccurate, and he was very reasonable in wanting to sleep at her feet, but Blue was rather resentful about having to curl up into herself so he had space. She would survive, but that didn’t mean she liked the situation any. Her disdain for it grew further when Z sat back up.

“It’s cold.”

“Don’t you even think—”

“Relax,” he said, chuckling as he stood. “I’m jus’ gonna grab another blanket. Or somethin’,” he declared as he went to rummage through the chest that held such things. “I can’t dream’a layin’ with you anymore than we have to here; this is bad enough.”

A statement of that nature should have been insulting, Blue decided. She was relieved instead. Annoying as it was, she was a little more tolerable of his presence when he returned with a set of blankets that he deemed worthy, finally letting herself lie back down.

“Your pegleg—”

He cut her off with a quick, “Yeah, yeah, I know,” as he pulled his half-leg back to remove the prosthetic. It fell to the floor with a satisfying thud a moment later.

It wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable position that they had ever been in, but it was tolerable for the one night. Blue had just started to relax when she heard him snore, startling her. Kicking him was considered for a long while, then sleep took her as well.

*

For the second time tonight, Blue awoke with a start. She was just a little too warm for her liking, no doubt thanks to the extra blankets up against her back and legs. Z wasn’t snoring at least — in fact, he seemed to be waking. That was probably what had roused her.

Despite that, Blue wasn’t interested at all in getting out of bed. A light rainfall could still be heard and the bed was far more comfortable than it was out there where it was damp and dreary. Z was clever enough to be careful not to disturb her as he sat up and re-equipped his pegleg.

In the time it took him to do that, she became aware of other voices that she recognised as belonging to the brig crew of Jackson and his crewmate Rylund. She couldn’t quite make out what they were saying and she became even less interested in figuring that out as Z stood and made his way out of the hold. If no one was going to bother her, she was going to stay exactly where she was.

Between being woken up twice and the amount of total time spent in bed, Blue wasn’t getting back to sleep anytime soon. She was, however, not getting out of bed anytime soon, either. Dozing was something that she took great pleasure in and she was rather grateful to be left alone to do just that.

For a while, at least.

After an amount of time that couldn’t have been too long, Blue shifted, voices coming back into earshot. She recognised them as the three pirates at the outpost currently and while that wasn’t noteworthy on its own, it became concerning when she heard them shift from the dock and onto the sloop. Why, she wondered, until she recalled that this was technically Z’s dormitory as well.

“Hey, where’d that skull we found go?”

Why he thought she was up for a conversation, she couldn’t fathom. Yes, she was awake, but did he not notice that she was barely staring at the wall that she was pressed up against?

“I sold it days ago,” she said through her teeth.

“Hey Blue!”

To say that Jackson’s presence directly behind Z was surprising and unwelcome was to put it mildly. When she lifted her head, she was somehow simultaneously surprised and not to see Rylund even further behind them, waving with some amount of nervousness.

Blue took a moment to take in the scene before her. Then she reached down, threw the blanket off herself and took delight in them screeching and running off at the sight of her wielded dagger. With that taken care of, she dozed off for a while longer before finally getting out of bed.

*

“I’m just sayin’, y’ could’ve just asked us to leave.”

“I did.”

“ Without the knife.”

“What fun would that be?”

Jackson rolled his eyes with exasperation. Z hadn’t even tried to join in that conversation. Instead, he chewed at his breakfast while she went back and forth with his friends.

“But speakin’a goin’ places, the Bilge Rats are offerin’ some new voyages.”

“I have no interest in getting on that brigantine again for any amount of time. It was crowded enough with the appropriate crew size.”

“Well, actually,” Rylund started, “my girl’s going to be wantin’ me back by now.”

“ Any amount of time,” Blue reiterated. Another thought crossed her mind. “And the brigantine is too fast to keep up with in a sloop.”

The men looked at each other.

“Well, you sure shot that down fast,” Jackson said.

“Lookit this way, y’ get yer sloop back to yerself,” Z said.

“Precisely. You three — two, even — can go do whatever it is that the Bilge Rats have you doing and I can get back on track with my own endeavours.” Not that Blue was especially interested in going back to working for the Merchant Alliance. No, almost anything but that would suffice… not that she was going to discuss the details with the men.

“Well, that settles that then, don’t it?” Jackson said with some rhetoric. “We drop you off at Dagger Tooth and go on our way.”

Rylund nodded his head. “That’ll work. Maybe tomorrow, though — water’s rough over in that direction with the storm.”

“It was not that bad,” Blue said, waving a hand. “Your brig will handle that water without issue.”

“Yeah, but then everything gets all wet,” Jackson whined.

“Then that matter is settled as such: the three of you will depart tomorrow morning for Dagger Tooth Outpost and go about your business.”

“Y’ sure y’ don’t wanna come with?” Z asked, though she wasn’t sure if he meant to tease her.

“I am quite sure. I can have my privacy back. Consider our deal more than settled on both sides so you can go back to doing… whatever it is you do exactly.”

He laughed. “All right then.”

“Now,” Blue said, standing; “I have a sloop to clean after that storm.”

The men nodded to her and though she was certain that they had more words at the tip of their tongues, no one made any attempt to stop her and for that she was glad. After the morning she’d had and the storm, a little time to herself was needed. And while breakfast hadn’t been bad, she found herself craving a mango and that, too, was a good excuse to go back to the ship.

Z was clever enough that she thought he might have told the others to leave her alone. She hoped that was the case. Though, as she thought about it, she wasn’t actually sure who might have been the smartest of the bunch. She didn’t know the other two as well as she did Z, and while he could be very socially awkward, he wasn’t stupid like she had thought initially. None of them were, it seemed; they were simply… unlike-minded to her. They got on together just fine, though, and that seemed to be enough for them.

That gave her cause to question just what exactly the Bilge Rats might have been up to. Occasionally, they had more direct business for pirates to go out on, but she had never closely investigated that, only spoken a few words to their representatives, particularly one drunkard. He always seemed to know what was going on in the Sea of Thieves despite his stupor.

It was midday when someone came to pull her from her thoughts. She heard the footsteps, heard them stop nearby on the dock, but Blue didn’t lift her head from cleaning grime off the deck of the sloop.

“Hey, uh, I got a question.”

It seemed that Jackson wasn’t sure when his company wasn’t wanted. Blue forced herself to put on a pleasant countenance when she looked up at him.

“What is it?”

“Are you really sure that ya don’t wanna come with us? Rylund could take the sloop t—”

“I am certain that I am content to stay on my ship on my own ,” she shot.

He looked somewhat dejected. “And you don’t wanna tag along as two ships? We could go slow.”

“I am certain.”

He brought a hand up to his face, scratching at his beard thoughtfully. “There’s good money to be made workin’ for the Bilge Rats.”

“Money of their sort. Can those doubloons be used elsewhere?”

He shook his head.

“Precisely. Is it so much money that I could leave this place immediately after running our errands on a fancy new ship, buy an estate to call my own, find a husband whose interests align with my own, and have enough left over for a lifetime?”

He made a small ‘hrm’ noise of understanding and then chuckled. “They pay pretty good, but not that good.”

“I rest my case.”

“All right, but I say you’re missin’ out.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

They nodded to each other and Jackson made his way back to the tavern.

*

A surprise treat had come upon Blue: most of the day went by with her undisturbed by the others. The sloop had also been cleaned to her liking, the storm grime scrubbed away and the inside reorganised after everything, especially the disastrous leaving of the Roar.

Throughout the day, her thoughts had strayed little from current happenings. The last conversation she’d had with Jackson made her curious of that crew’s view of her. Having spent enough time with him, she expected that only Z would make any attempts to get her to join in whatever their plans were, and even that was a maybe. It was also still a problematic take on the matter when she and him only got on so well. But for Jackson of all people to come and approach her… that stuck with her. Their third certainly must have been agreeable to this idea, too; these pirates operated as a democracy, and asking one to put up with an overcrowded ship was no small matter.

A lot of time had been spent taking longer than was necessary to organise things. Clearing the table and setting things in their proper place on the bookshelf was an easy enough task, but Blue had let her thoughts slow her actions. Curiously, she also discovered that there were traces of Z throughout the ship. His belongings were few and she was able to pile them under the grog barrel, but beside it was a spare barrel that she had never needed before as grog consumption aboard the ship had increased threefold when he joined the crew. Not only that but the bedding was wrinkled from constant use, the food barrel’s contents were overflowing with items that were more intended to be useful than delicious and there was far more than either of them could use. That went for all of the supply barrels, in fact.

The spaces in the sloop were in a state of constant — if slight — disorganisation from of Z’s influence. Allotting time to cleaning up the desk and bookshelf had been no issue, but the entirety of the sloop was overflowing with things, a lot simply ‘just in case.’ The only spaces that hadn’t been subjected to this were down low in the hold, her barrel of swords and the fabrics chest. Even the armoury was disturbed, missing a blunderbuss that was still attached to Z’s belt.

No, considering all of these things, Blue was absolutely looking forward to getting her space back.

Later in the day, she sat at the desk and picked at a pomegranate. Her mind was stuck on the men’s interest in having her join them on their adventure. The way he conducted himself, Z struck her as rather antisocial. Jackson had been pleasant enough to deal with and seemed to enjoy conversations, but she didn’t feel she knew him or their third well enough to discern whether it was in-character for them to want her to join them. At the very least, she expected that Z would appreciate being with his friends, if they were considered as such. What sort of criteria he had for those he considered worth spending time with was a mystery to her.

Speaking of him, it was certainly he that she heard coming down the dock and transferring onto the sloop, the soft clacking of the pegleg unmistakable.

“Hey.” He looked surprised that she was ready to receive him. “You, uh— it good with you if we take some supplies?”

At first, she wanted to yell at him. They were hers — but then she considered that he had helped collect no small portion of them, and at his own suggestion. Besides, there was far more than she needed, than she could use.

“I suppose so.” She raised a finger. “A fair amount. No excessive pilfering that will leave me defenceless.”

“Y’know what wouldn’t leave ya defenceless?”

Blue glared at him. “No.”

“Fine, fine,” he snickered before returning to the main-deck to begin sorting through supplies. From there he called, “How ‘bout half?”

She leaned to the side to look at him through the hole in the wall. “That is a fair amount.”

In a way, Blue was glad he had come to her for this reason. The amount of supplies on the sloop was excessive, overwhelming. All the ammunition and wood were useful, but too much, and there was no way she could eat through all the food, nor use it as fish bait. Plus, she was certain that her sloop used to sit a little higher on the water, glide a little faster… No, Blue indeed found relief in this. Not enough to help him go through the supplies, of course.

The rest of the day was spent with everyone checking out the supplies on the Forlorn Phoenix , though Z did most of the sorting. Despite the initial first impressions of him and Jackson being close, it seemed Jackson and Rylund were even closer. When working, they were fairly inseparable. Now it seemed almost as though Z only slightly more than tolerated them, though Blue was constantly uncertain of whether or not she was reading all of them correctly.

When it was later in the evening, Blue joined them in the tavern for dinner, if only because she thought it might have been expected of her. As it turned out, it was, and the men were rather glad to see her appear on her own accord. The food and company alike were similar to the morn’s but Blue found it more tolerable now than before. There were a variety of questions that she could have posed to them — how they had all met, what they did exactly, what about them all that made them stay… friends? — but she refrained. As the newest and least permanent member of the group, Blue felt that she wasn’t particularly high on the ranking list for speaking, though neither did she feel the need to voice her thoughts. It wasn’t important and wouldn’t be relevant after tomorrow morning. The men were quite happy to talk amongst themselves, anyway.

One question did linger, however…

“Rylund, yes?” When he nodded an affirmation of his name to her, she continued: “You said you… had a girl waiting for you?”

“Yeah, my lady doesn’t like it when I’m away for too long ‘cause we’re engaged to be married soon.”

Blue couldn’t imagine what sort of woman could find any of the men’s company so agreeable that they would willingly bind themselves to them. More curiously was Jackson laughing and slapping his friend on the back.

“You’ve been sayin’ that for years now!”

“Not exactly,” Rylund whined.

“ Anyway ,” Blue said, pulling them back on topic; “You have been together a few years then?”

He nodded. “A few years now.”

Blue nodded back. Before she could speak, Jackson did.

“Heh, me and my lady have been together quite a lot of years now, too.”

Blue tilted her head slightly. While she didn’t know them as well as she did Z, she found it very curious that his friends had such long-term partners. “I wish you the best of luck with your ladies.”

As he had been quiet for a while now, Blue’s attention went to Z. He looked back and immediately knew where she and everyone’s line of thought was going and sat up straight, shaking his head, a string of ‘No’s escaping his mouth.

“No, no— I, heh, no ,” he chuckled. “It’s not for me.”

“You’d have better luck gettin’ him into a fistfight with a meg,” Jackson laughed.

Blue tapped an index finger against the table. How curious. She said nothing more and simply gave a polite nod, expression one of amusement. “Being tied down is not for everyone.”

Z responded with emphatic enthusiasm. “Exactly!”

Jackson tilted his head slightly at her. “But I thought you said—”

“Plans for the future,” she said, waving him off. The other men gave her a look; Rylund didn’t speak but Z couldn’t help himself.

“Plans for the future?”

“Yes, plans for the future,” she repeated. “I have plans for when I am happy with my work here and leave the Sea of Thieves. Plans for the far future.”

“Huh.” His expression was quizzical, though he said nothing more. Rylund and Jackson made their comments of agreement and she was thankful for that.

“I want to make sure I have all the gold I’ll ever need for a big family,” the latter said. “I don’t want no one worryin’ ‘bout food or a roof over their heads.”

Rylund nodded once more in agreement. “Same here. Our ladies deserve the best for puttin’ up with all of our shit.”

Blue only allowed a small chuckle of amusement. Z hadn’t acknowledged the conversation too much and she thought she knew why.

“And you never plan to leave,” she said, unable to help herself.

He shook his head. “This is home ‘far as I’m concerned.”

Jackson nodded. “It ain’t a bad one, nuh-uh. Can’t say I can see myself raisin’ a family here, but there are worse places t’ do it.”

“Way worse places,” Rylund added.

“I can agree to that, too,” Blue said after a moment’s thought.

*

Dinner had been far more pleasant than Blue had expected it to be. The conversation they had proved to be stimulating enough to satisfy her curiosity about the crew. She was still dumbfounded by the idea of anyone doing more than tolerating their presences, but maybe she was missing something. Jackson and Rylund were pleasant enough if you weren’t on the receiving end of their boredom.

Z, however, was still quite the mystery to her. She found this curious, considering how much time they had spent together. She wondered the specifics of his history, why he was so against socialising; had a relationship ended so poorly that he swore off entirely? Was it why he had come to the Sea of Thieves in the first place? She wasn’t willing to broach the subject with him, lest he think she wanted him to stick around, but when she recorded her thoughts in a journal, she found herself regretting not taking the opportunity to ask. Getting her sloop back to herself was more important, anyhow.

In a way, the Forlorn Phoenix had already been returned to her. Supplies had been taken from it and when Blue got comfortable on the canopy for the night, it was purely because she preferred to be there, not because the bed was taken. In fact, as far as she could tell, Z never came by to sleep. She thought perhaps he might have gotten a room at the inn, but that would require him to spend money and he was stingier than she was. Then again, he seemed capable of sleeping anywhere, so who was to tell where he might have spent the night…

When Blue woke, it was so early that it was still dark. It took a moment for her to realise that she could hear the crew talking amongst each other on the other side of the dock beside the brigantine. She supposed she could get up and start the day. In the time that Blue spent downstairs getting dressed, a specific set of footsteps had come to her side of the dock. She was glad that their owner waited for her to come back up.

“Y’ get one last chance t’ come with us,” Z said.

“I made up my mind,” she said, stepping onto the sloop’s canvas back. With a slight touch of amusement, she added, “You will simply have to manage without me.”

He shrugged. “It’s yer choice. I’m jus’ sayin’— the more people, the more money.”

“An, and the more that it is then split,” she reminded.

“Doesn’t matter when y’re makin’ so much more.”

“Perhaps. I am still content to work alone.”

“Fine, fine,” he said, holding up his hands. “We jus’ wanted t’ make sure y’ knew what y’ were gonna be missin’.”

“I know plenty,” she said with emphasis. “I have made my choice.”

“Fine,” he said one last time, playful sternness to his voice. “You were warned.”

“Indeed I have been.”

Blue looked from him to the brigantine, listening to the movement of the other two men below deck on it. Then she looked back to Z, suspicious.

“I take it you three have not slept?”

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head and unable to help the amused grin. “We’ll jus’ take shifts sleepin’ on the way out.”

Blue was unsurprised. “I suspected as much.” Despite her words, she found it strange that she was relieved to have woken before they had left. That reminded her…

“One moment,” she said before heading downstairs. She heard a curious noise come from him as she did that and thought it was funny that he was so oblivious to all of his effects being left aboard. The expression on his face when she came up with an armload of his things shifted to one of understanding, albeit with a hint of something she couldn’t put her finger on. The transfer of items was smooth.

“Uh, thanks.”

“It is less clothing that you will have to buy in the future when that set is inevitably burned away, too,” she reasoned.

“Sure, I guess.” Z had accepted his things, but something was a bit off. When he said nothing more of the matter, she let it be. “We’ll be headin’ out then, I guess,” he said.

Blue looked past him to Jackson and Rylund down the dock, politely waving back to them. “Mhm. They seem ready.”

“Yeah. Same. Uh…” He took a breath and chuckled. “So what, no goodbye kiss again?”

Any positivity Blue felt about the situation melted away. He laughed at her expression.

“Fine, fine, fine!” he said, taking a few steps to the brigantine. He chuckled, then said, “Jus’ remember, y’re the one that didn’t wanna come with.”

“And I am all the merrier for it.”

“Y’ know how to find us if y’ ever change yer mind.”

Did she? She supposed there was indeed a slight chance of running into someone she knew on the Ferry of the Damned , and she knew they enjoyed hunting ships. Perhaps she understood them better than she gave herself credit for.

“I suppose I do.”

Jackson and Rylund looked between Z and her as she trailed behind him and he boarded the brigantine, going below deck to store his things.

“Well, I ain’t gonna beg, but it’s a real shame that you ain’t comin’ with us,” Jackson said. His friend murmured an agreement.

“I am afraid it cannot be helped; I have my own matters that require tending to after this detour.”

“I get that,” Rylund said with a nod.

“It is much appreciated,” Blue said with some sincerity. She glanced to her own ship’s flag for a moment. “You three ought to leave while the wind favours you.”

“Yeah, we’d better.”

Z returned to the main-deck as his partners spread themselves out for departure. Rylund took control of the fore-mast, pre-angling the sail as Jackson spun the wheel. Z, on the other hand, came to the ship’s stern where the main-sail’s controls were, though they were not his focus. He looked to Blue for a long moment as the ship turned, then smirked and gave her a two-fingered salute. She watched him for a moment before returning the gesture.

The sails of the ship came down and the brigantine screamed out of the outpost. As Blue watched it go further and further away, she felt relief, her substantial personal bubble allowed to exist once again. And yet, something about it was also rather dreary.

Unsure of what to make of the matter, Blue went back to the Forlorn Phoenix , alone.

Chapter 20: The Wandering Path

Summary:

Unsure of what to do with herself, Blue travels south until she picks up a somewhat peculiar task.

Hours before her departure from Galleon’s Grave, Blue recorded the events from earlier in the day in a book and looked over last night’s. Then she contemplated what exactly she would be doing. She could go back to working for the Merchant Alliance, but it was that line of work that had brought this whole situation upon her. It was silly to think that way, she knew that the work had no direct influence on what had happened, but she couldn’t help being wary of it still. It didn’t help matters that she could still hear Z seducing her into stealing materials from that fleet.

Working for one of the other Trading Companies was something that she considered. The Gold Hoarders only ever gave out dirty work — literally. She didn’t mind picking those chests up when she found them on her travels, though she was always disappointed by what she was given for them. Blue was not interested in digging in the ground for things that she would be paid very little for. For how heavy those chests were, surely they could afford to pay people better…

The Bilge Rats were also considered. Their name did not inspire any glamorous images, but she knew enough to know better. They tended to know if anything substantial was happening in the Sea of Thieves and apparently had interesting voyages for adventurous sailors to take up. Blue wasn’t sure if the gold or the glory was more important to them; she knew what she valued, though.

The last Company that she put thought into was the Order of Souls. She had some past experience with them and after her experience at a near and then fully active skeleton fort, she didn’t doubt her ability to complete their requests. Knowledge of the Ferry of the Damned helped, too. Still, she found herself uncertain of this work, so while she did pick up a voyage from the representative at Galleon’s Grave, she left the scroll bundled up on the bookcase for the time being.

Blue took the sloop south, leaving the wheel slightly right to pass by a massive rock formation on the way. This path took her to a little island known as Tri-Rock Isle. It was unremarkable but it was perfectly serviceable as a place to do nothing but rest overnight at. Before she left in the morning, she scoured the island, discovering a box with a bounty skull and mermaid gem inside it.

From there, she continued in a southerly direction. Once again, she stopped at the first island she came to and spent the night before continuing onward. When Blue found herself at The Crooked Masts, she considered heading west past Shipwreck Bay to keep her island hopping adventure going and decided that direction would be good as it would take her into the Shores of Plenty. In the middle of the night, distant cannon fire woke her. The sight of a brigantine and sloop fighting on the far side of that island had her wide awake. Being able to see a ship at all meant that she was too close, and for there to be two of them… She wasn’t interested in getting caught up in their shenanigans and immediately got the ship going once more.

It was easy enough to go south into the Ancient Isles. She did entertain the idea of heading east into the Devil’s Roar, but that was a death sentence alone. The next closest island with her current heading seemed quite far out until she noticed palm trees to her side on the tiniest island she had ever seen, so tiny that making camp on it would be difficult. She had never come across it before and it wasn’t on any map she had seen so she made note of it in a notebook. Despite its minuscule, secretive nature, there was a coral reef large enough to calm the ocean’s rough waves, so there was that.

Briefly, Blue wondered if there was anything to explore underneath this island. Sometimes the seaweed would hide something of interest, like the shipwreck she and Z had happened upon at Boulder Cay. From where she had stopped the Forlorn Phoenix , she spied nothing interesting and so getting into the water for maybe-something-maybe-nothing was out of the question.

After the tiny island, she made her way to Old Boot Fort. Wary as she was of fortresses now, Blue could not resist the allure of its vantage point; looking out from one of the highest points she knew of in the best location she could think of was an irresistible prospect. After stopping at the dock and waiting what felt like hours to make sure no skeletons came to greet her, she climbed up to the peak. Just as she remembered, it offered a beautiful view of the Ancient Isles and parts of the other regions.

As she had just come from the Wilds, it was unsurprising to see nothing of interest in that direction besides the sloop at Shipwreck Bay, lingering after its victory. The Ancient Isles themselves seemed rather quiet; she spied a galleon at Plunder Outpost and nothing more as the large islands and rock formations could have easily hidden a fleet. Towards the west-northwest, however, there were a handful of ships. At that distance, she couldn’t guess whether or not any combination of them were interacting with each other, but such a gathering indicated something going on and she wasn’t interested in the least.

The Roar was briefly reconsidered.

Not entirely certain what she wanted to do, Blue did manage to choose to head to Ancient Spire Outpost. She took her time navigating the northern edge of the Ancient Isles, spending two days at Crook’s Hollow. This was necessitated by the galleon of Plunder Outpost leaving and sailing past her. It came uncomfortably close, so close she could spy all four of her crew on the deck at one point from the top of the island, but they never showed any interest. She also supposed it was entirely possible that they never saw her ship on the other side, the island’s height having hidden it.

When the galleon stopped in her predetermined path at Barnacle Cay, Blue cursed the ship and crew alike and made her way south. Unwilling to travel at night, she stopped at Paradise Spring to kill some time. An abandoned treasure map made that an easy task.

When morning came, she began her usual ritual of getting breakfast and changing clothes. Early on in this routine, she spotted the galleon ahead of her new path at Devil’s Ridge. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought that they were purposefully trying to annoy her.

Unsure of what to do and tired of this little game, she sat at the island, waiting for the galleon to make the first move. When it finally showed signs of life at midday, she was deeply concerned that it was turning to come towards her. Its prow pointed in her direction and to her relief, it kept turning. The ship set sail in a generally west direction. It could have been a plot to get closer, however, so she took off north shortly after. She kept her eye on the galleon as they sailed; it never changed course.

After backtracking to Crook’s Hollow, Blue planned to continue on the path she had originally set. A rest there was required; in the morning she spied the galleon back at Plunder Outpost. It seemed to her that they had been successful in whatever endeavour they had undertaken.

No matter their intentions, a galleon was always trouble, big trouble, and she had been unwilling to risk it. At best, friendly galleon crews consumed time, and lots of it. No, Blue was happy to have avoided this ship entirely.

Finally arriving at Barnacle Cay, it was beginning to feel like she was making progress. Ancient Spire Outpost was an easy day’s sail away now, less if the weather and wind stayed agreeable until the next day, which it did. But as she sat in The Unicorn that evening, Blue was stuck wondering what to do next. Despite accomplishing this travel goal, she was nowhere near setting a real one. She still had that furled-up voyage, but it still gave her the collywobbles for a reason she couldn’t discern.

Instead, she found herself speaking to Madame Olwen: some skulls needed retrieving. It was not a typical bounty she was begin given as this dread crew had apparently already been dispatched. It was the literal retrieval of a skull, maybe more, that Blue was being tasked with and nothing more. Of course, it certainly couldn’t be that simple, but it was all that she was told even after trying to glean more information…

Blue lingered until the next morning. When she got going, she took the Forlorn Phoenix southwest as was required thanks to the rock cluster in her way. This put her on course to The Crow’s Nest Fortress. Still wary of islands that were known to occasionally be inhabited by skeletons and with it being early enough in the day, she kept going past it in a more west direction towards a small island. From there, she was glad to see no galleon at Plunder Outpost.

A night was spent resting at Cutlass Cay. After breakfast and making sure that there was indeed no galleon lurking nearby, Blue moved to her target island: Thieves’ Haven. She moved around the island to the southwestern side where she then looked about the beach. When she found nothing, she disembarked for a better look. Then she was investigating a cave system that led to a small beach on the north side. All had gone well, but she was losing daylight at this point. The water that sat within those tunnels would wait until checked everywhere else first; the upper level of the island would have to wait until tomorrow.

Blue wasn’t sure where to store the ship for the night. She could sit it on the edge of the island, but which side? Should she hide it behind the island, or loudly present it on the northern side to announce her presence to anyone and hope that only attracted those interested in a pleasant conversation? Neither option seemed good and so she took the ship into the middle of the island, the cavern it formed large enough to house two galleons, yet claustrophobic enough to hide them, too. She pressed the sloop against the inner east part of the island, so close that she could simply hop off the ship and hop back onto the ladder.

From there she disembarked to climb the mast of a ship that was on the beach; whether said ship was being built or dismantled, she couldn’t tell. What she was sure of was that there was a ladder on the mast, then another one waiting to take her against the island, and another to bring her to the top. There wasn’t much to see at that point, but she felt the island was sloped, and to the southern side was a decently sized rock formation.

Walking the sandy path to avoid any quiet snakes, Blue made her way south. The formation was quite impressive and it took her a while to find a way up it without outright climbing. It was to its west side that she found what was the beginning of a path, or a decaying one, as she still had to take a rather large step from grass to stone.

The top of the formation was quite high up. To the north-by-northeast of Thieves’ Haven was a massive rock jutting from the water. It had been obtrusive when coming to the island and while it was still taller than the island was, it was much less of an issue from this vantage point. It was no Old Boot Fort, that location was just so ideal, but she still had a fantastical view of the Ancient Isles. It was impossible to see every square inch, ships may have hidden behind the larger islands in the region, but she spotted none and that was good enough for her.

Thanks to the comfortable temperatures of the Ancient Isles, Blue slept well that night. In the morning, she attempted to fish up a fresh splashtail and instead brought up a small, spiky fish. It wasn’t the first time she had caught one, but its colouring was different. Now she wasn’t sure what the deal with them was. They would bite on anything, though, so she wasn’t bothered by catching it and decided this one would do for breakfast.

The spines presented something of an issue. It would certainly do her no good to eat them so Blue attempted to pull them out. This was doable, if difficult. Cooking the fish certainly couldn’t make it any worse, she figured. As per usual, once it was cooked, she ate the crispy fins first before moving back to removing the spines; it was easier now, the flaky flesh peeling away from the root of the spikes with ease. She managed to remove all of them quickly enough that the main body was still warm when she ate it. The flavour was mild but pleasant; she wouldn’t be disappointed to see them instead of splashtails.

Rested and fed, Blue moved the ship slightly forward and to the left so that she could get back on the island at a different point. She had checked the cave system so now she checked the lower beach inside the island’s cavern; all that she found besides a pretty sight was a washed-up crate of wood that was partially filled.

Now there was the outer beach to check. At the furthest west point was one of the entrances to the cavern; with no way to cross it but swimming, Blue considered whether getting wet was really worth it. So far, this work hadn’t been the dirtiest, and she didn’t think that would last forever, but swimming in the ocean when she didn’t need to wasn’t an idea she was crazy about…

Returning to the ship, Blue made the hop required to grab the ladder and climbed aboard. Again, she moved it just a little, using the wheel to turn it and a harpoon to pull it close to the opposite beach.

Like the other beaches inside the island, it was small, but it also featured a way to other parts of the island. This one sported a system of wooden walkways up to a little cavern that opened up to the area she had refused to swim to. She worked her way from there down to the sand, moving slow enough to listen for the whispers of a bounty skull in the grass. When she found none, she found herself becoming frustrated. Searching this island was proving to be quite time-consuming and she had barely looked through the upper level yet.

Perhaps Z was right to hate this island.

Following another path that led upwards, Blue found herself passing through what was once a gate. Up here, she saw the path she had taken onto the rock formation. Though the land here didn’t connect, a small wooden bridge had been constructed. In the time before that, a good jump would have sufficed. She began moving along the path that took her north. It was only a few strides later that Blue spotted something near the rocky edge.

Just as she had expected, the skull she found was decorated in such a way that it was easy to miss in the tall grass it rested in, and it was alone. Glad to be wearing thick gloves, she picked it up, rolling it into her right palm. The noises it made were close to that of a whispered statement, a question perhaps, but she couldn’t discern a single clear word from it. All the skull succeeded in doing was making her uncomfortable during the walk back to the ship.

With her charge retrieved and safely upon the shelf in the mid-deck of the Phoenix , Blue considered the time. It was midday, and while Plunder Outpost was close, she felt it more proper to return to Ancient Spire. While the nearest island in that direction was even closer, the wind was terrible. Besides, the cluster of land there was barely even worth a name.

Rather than rush anywhere, Blue stayed another night at Thieves’ Haven, filling the time by jotting down the quiet day in a logbook and fishing up more prickly fish. In the morning, one was eaten as she started northeast, the wind much more agreeable now. A day of a good crosswind and smooth sailing saw her at The Crow’s Nest Fortress just after night fell. Though she was more comfortable than before with the idea of staying there, the incident at Hidden Spring Keep lingered in the back of her mind and she slept with her dagger in hand. When morning came, Blue got the ship moving before she did anything else; only then did the usual change of clothes and breakfast come.

The distance to Ancient Spire Outpost wasn’t too considerable though the near-perfect sailing conditions of the previous day were no longer present. When she reached her destination, she passed the main dock and instead nestled the sloop against the lesser-used one. This outpost always seemed busy and so staying out of the way of any others seemed a good idea; it usually earned her some early goodwill from other crews.

It was a while before she disembarked with the skull. Its whispering became too annoying to keep listening to even though she found herself deeply curious about what the Order of Souls did with the bounties once they had them. As she traded it for a pouch of gold, she decided that it was of no concern of hers what they did with them — they paid well enough that she wasn’t disappointed in her earnings and had no interest in changing that. It had been annoying to sail all that distance for the one skull, but she couldn’t argue being paid for work that didn’t require a fight.

Blue spent some of her earnings that night on a nice kitchen-cooked dinner. Spending the night up there was also considered, but she much preferred her spot on the canopy of her sloop. When morning came, she left without picking up another voyage, instead deciding to see where the wind took her.

Island hopping was not the most lucrative way of gathering treasure; it was not entirely pointless, either. The shipwrecks that she was so good at finding helped pad her earnings. Blue was able to find an assortment of treasure in these wrecks, as well as the occasionally lost purse. Sometimes the barrels were sealed well enough that the items inside were still worth picking up, too, although it was uncommon that barrels with truly worthwhile things were in that condition.

This went on for a while as she lazily went from one island to another or stopped at something interesting in the water. On this day, Blue found herself stopping at Golden Sands Outpost, having gone all the way west through The Ancient Isles and then started north into The Shores of Plenty. The activity to the east seemed to have calmed down as all Blue could spot was a single galleon on the south end of Wanderer’s Refuge. It had been in her view for a day now and hadn’t moved an inch.

With her latest batch of goods sold, Blue moved the sloop aside the main dock and spent the evening in the tavern. A kitchen-made meal was always appreciated when it didn’t come from Dagger Tooth. It didn’t hurt that she had made quite a bit of coin and could more than afford to spend some on luxuries.

Just as always, Blue preferred to sleep on the sloop’s canopy. What she didn’t prefer was waking up to the sound of other people.

In the early morning hours, Blue was awakened by another crew’s chatter. She cursed her decision to sleep with her back to the main dock where she could hear two distinct male voices at. That told her that it was very unlikely to be the galleon that had pulled in. Two-man brigantines were uncommon, though not unheard of, and a full sloop… Well, Blue wasn’t sure which of those two she would have preferred should things turn unpleasant.

The men moved about from their ship to the island — most likely selling their goods, she decided — and she stayed still, unwilling to attract their attention quite yet. If the comment they made about another sloop wasn’t due to her presence, she was going to be quite annoyed by the party forming at the outpost. That didn’t seem to be the case when she chanced a moment of looking around, only spotting a sloop. They were aware of her and she, unknown to them, was aware of their presence.

Blue waited until she heard the crew disappear into the tavern before she moved again. The sun was just beginning to come up, giving off enough golden light so that she could see clearly. She double-checked to make sure there was only one other ship here, stopped at the main dock. From the canopy, she could spy nothing of interest on its main- or mid-decks. They most certainly had sold everything of value at this point; now they must have been spending their coin.

Getting to her feet, Blue went downstairs and quickly changed into a more appropriate outfit, one that she could move in while still being easy on the eye, and got her kit. Hopefully, it wouldn’t matter what she wore and a fight would be avoided. When she came topside and came eye-to-eye with them, she briefly wondered just how likely that was.

“‘Ello there.” The wider of the two had spoken first.

No good person with good intentions ever said that, she decided.

“Good morning. What can I do for you fine men this morning?”

They looked at each other like they were impressed to be called such. The toothpick of a sailor couldn’t help grinning.

“We was wonderin’ if ye’d be willing t’ share breakfast with us.”

Somehow, she didn’t think that was a request. “It is first light; I had intended to—”

“C’mon,” urged the little one; “We insist! We’re payin’!”

Blue held her tongue. No, there was a perfectly good sword on her hip, a good musket on her back, and her dagger hidden underneath her forearm. If they wanted trouble, she’d give it to them.

“Very well then,” she said with a nod. “I can delay a short while for a hot meal that I do not have to pay for.”

She stepped onto the dock and the larger of the two helped her take his arm.

“And what shall I call the two of you?”

“Well, I’m Adam!” the smaller of the men with red hair and blue eyes said.

The wide one with black hair and green eyes said, “And I’m Adam.”

Blue stopped, pulling back at the one’s arm as she did. They both turned to look at her with surprise in their eyes.

“Does… Does that… Is that ever a problem for you two?”

They looked at each other and then shook their heads.

From the start she had doubted that they were family; now she was certain.

She wanted to ask what sort of problems that might cause for the people that they met, but they didn’t strike her as the most sociable sort of people so she stayed her tongue of her curiosity.

“That is… a very unique situation to be in,” she said as they started again.

“It’s great! We never forget each other’s names ‘cause of it!”

In her head, that one was Twig and the other one was Trunk. How ridiculous this was.

“Yeah, if we ever ferget, we can jus’ remember our own name,” the other said with amusement. Despite his lazy tongue, he struck her as the more clever of the two.

“That is a useful trick…”

“And you?”

“Oh?” It took her a moment to realise what he was asking. “Ah, I am called Blue.”

As they ate their breakfast, Blue decided that the men weren’t terribly awful company. The little Twig to her right side was a little too energetic, a little too loud-mouthed, a little too long-winded in the story he was telling. He had started before they had been given their food, telling her about their encounter with a great white megalodon that was so grand she was doubting this to be a true tale. His friend, to her left, was far quieter, though he interjected every so often to correct a detail.

“Nah, it wasn’t nearly as big as a galleon, it was bigger than a gally.”

“It was as big as those big gallies, I mean!”

Blue didn’t care how big this ghost fish was. Before she could soothe the argument, a noise toward the door caught her attention, giving her reason to hover her hand at her sleeve, ready to retrieve her dagger. She couldn’t be certain, but it sure sounded like a footstep. Being sat in the corner like they were, she with her back to the door, she couldn’t simply turn to look, no, that would be too obvious…

“And its eye was bigger ‘round than a gally’s sail-pole!”

“Which eye? They got four of ‘em, mate!”

She took a breath in. As soon as she opened her mouth, footsteps rushed at them. The first one to take a blow was Trunk-Adam, Blue having slammed her elbow into the side of his face. In the same motion, she leapt over him, using his bulk as cover so she could bring her dagger out. There was a flurry of crashing and scraping as the interlopers dove into the furniture. She heard a blade slice something and someone screamed.

Turning around, Blue intended to drive her weapon into someone, anyone. The body of the man she had jumped over was kicked off the chair, making her stagger. She remembered lifting her head to see the barrel of a blunderbuss as she stood, and then all was silent.

Chapter 21: Down the Rabbit Hole

Summary:

After getting reacquainted with the idea of having a shipmate, the crew of the Forlorn Phoenix meander around some and Blue decides to open her mind a little to new ideas. Galleons plague their horizon in the meantime.

Blue jolted to alertness, staring up at a sea of green. Specifically, she was on the forecastle of the Ferry of the Damned , looking up past the torn sails at the otherworldly sky. She sat up and brought her view down upon the ship. It took another moment for her to recall what had brought her here this time. She had been ready for things to go south in the inn, but not like that…

Now she contemplated events. No one would hear a ship pull up to the outpost and she hadn’t been allowed an opportunity to properly check the horizons, but somehow, the experience still felt off.

Getting to her feet, the cabin door creaked open and Blue realised she had no idea what to expect when she went through. She hesitated, fearing the worst. Yet, the only way she was going to find out was by going through the threshold, so after lingering another moment, she did just that.

*

Visiting the Ferry of the Damned was something that Blue was never going to get used to, nor was she sure that would be a good thing to do. Or was it the dying part that she wasn’t used to? She knew enough to know that it was dark and that she had come back to the hold of the Forlorn Phoenix , facing its bow.

Stepping backwards, Blue let herself fall onto the bed. All was not well. Instead of landing on the relatively soft mattress, it was the firmness of a body she collided with. There was a brief struggle — she yanked her left wrist out of their grasp and in the time it took her to attempt to retrieve her dagger, she ended up pinned down on her opposite side.

There was a moment when all was still while they stared at each other.

“Why are you here?”

“Do ya really think y’re in a position t’ be askin’ me that?”

Only applying minimal pressure to her limbs now but not yet relinquishing them, Z let her twist around onto her back.

“It is my ship.”

“Be that as it may, I am in need of a ship, and you—”

“Oh, no, not this again,” Blue interjected, shaking her head. This was like a bad dream all over again.

As the ship rolled especially hard over a wave, the last thing that she had done at the outpost came to the forefront of her mind. She had been shot. Again.

“It was you in the tavern!”

He laughed. “Yeah, me an’ Jack had some business in there.”

“And where did you— fuckin’, let me go already,” she complained, squirming.

That got another amused noise out of him. “Fine, fine.” He did exactly that, not moving off from straddling her at the hip. Blue sat up on her elbows.

“You and Jackson— where did you come from?”

“Well, you guys had yer sloops at the main dock and we came from Cannon Cove.”

Blue had looked in that direction before going to bed; they must have been on the other side of it or still been far off.

“And…?”

“And we had some business in the tavern that we didn’t want any comp’ny for.”

“And of course you could not simply ask us to leave?”

“I’m not in the business of riskin’ my loot.”

“Of course not.”

What in the world he had to do at the inn, she couldn’t fathom. She didn’t particularly care at the moment, either.

“And you are here because…?”

“Well, Jack had some business.”

“… he left you here.”

“Yeah.”

“… and you just assumed…”

“Well, if y’ really don’t want me here, I s’pose I could jump off and swim back t’ the outpost.”

He didn’t sound genuine with that offer so she gave him an incredulous look. She also wondered what he meant by swimming back to the outpost when the ship rocked as a wave passed.

“Where are we?”

“Y’ know that big rock between Golden Sands and Wanderer’s?”

She thought for a moment. Why were they… “Yes?”

“There.”

“Why?”

“Well, we had that scrap at the outpost but it’d been three days since I slept—”

“What do you mean three days ?”

“—so I moved the ship just enough to get it out of sight in case they came back.”

Blue stared at him for a long moment.

“What?”

“And you just… assumed that you could rejoin the ship…?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

Blue blinked, shaking her head at him, at a loss for words. That was not the question! In fact, he hadn’t answered any to a satisfactory level.

“All right. Shall we start again?”

He gave her a quizzical look.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

He sat back on her ankles and made a mockingly thoughtful expression. “Well then, y’ see, Jack had some business that needed tendin’ to that I don’t need t’ be gettin’ my hands dirty with and then we stumbled up on you and yer friends and I jus’ assumed y’d be happy t’ see me.”

Blue couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. Whatever the case, she supposed she was stuck with him for a while.

The first order of business was to crawl out from under him and get back to her feet, holstering her blade. She felt a little dizzy as she stood and that raised a new question.

“How long has it been since—”

“‘Bout a day. I moved the ship, got some sleep, checked everythin’ was good and had a bite t’ eat and then laid back down, as y’ noticed.”

So that wasn’t so bad. Blue was getting used to being so tired after these trips, though she couldn’t figure out if she needed sleep or food more. One of those took much less time to satisfy so she stepped over to the food barrel and retrieved a mango. Sitting more comfortably on the edge of the bed now, Z watched her closely.

“I suppose I can put up with you again,” she finally said after a few small bites. He seemed to relax some, then grinned. He shifted his position and looked as though he was going to say something, probably something stupid. She rose a hand before he could.

“I expect the same set of rules to be followed again and for you to be on your best behaviour.”

His grin widened. “Understood.”

“Good.” Blue took another few bites out of her snack, hardly believing that she was in this situation again. “You said you have slept already?”

He nodded to her.

“Then it is my turn to sleep. Get us somewhere calm in the meantime.”

*

Waking up in the bed to the sound of gulls confirmed to Blue that no, everything she recalled was not a bad dream. She had indeed run into a couple of pirates that insisted on her company and then been run up on by another crew, now finding herself stuck with Z once again. The irony was cruel.

Sailing with a partner was a mixed bag. While Blue deeply valued her privacy and the authority to act upon her own will, the aid of another could be priceless, such as in the case of the megalodon attack. They had also proven the ability to earn more gold than she did alone, though that also included performances that she wasn’t necessarily the biggest fan of.

Blue lay there for a time, contemplating the situation she found herself in. She still wasn’t over Z simply assuming that he would be welcome — had Jackson played a part in that? She was going to kill him if that was the case. Ultimately, though, she supposed it wasn’t the worst thing in the world to happen to her.

More awake now, Blue took note of the calm island waters she felt the ship rocking on. She listened more closely and heard the songs of island birds as well. They weren’t at the rock anymore so that was good. Now curious, she got out of bed and changed into day clothes before making her way topside.

Z was not present on the ship and that was somewhat annoying as she couldn’t ask him what they were doing at the unmarked island made up of three landmasses. There was nothing really at all on this island, save for a mast poking out of the water between the two main landmasses. All she could figure was that it was far away from any occupied islands and that made it a good place to stop before going somewhere else.

Exasperated, Blue let her head fall back to view the sky, allowing her to spot Z up in the crow’s nest. That was not expected. He waved at her before sliding down the ladder.

“Glad t’ see y’re up; y’ spent all day—”

“I had a rough— wait, all day ?”

“Yeah, y’ slept all day.”

Blue stared at him before taking note of the sun being rather far to the west. No, she had definitely slept through the day, just as he had said.

“… huh.”

“Anyway, I haven’t seen a ship all day and now that y’re up, we can get goin’ somewhere.”

“I suppose.” She had her hand against the side of her head, still flabbergasted that she had slept so long. She gave him a look. “What did you have in mind?”

“The Isles. It ain’t the Wilds.”

Blue made a thoughtful noise. “I know there to be a galleon lurking about the Isles. On my way up to the Shores of Plenty, I spotted another entering the area from the north.”

He made a small, “Ehh,” whining noise.

She gave him a stern look. “I am not interested in being a galleon’s plaything.”

“Fine. We’ll keep headin’ ‘cross the channel t’ the Wilds.”

“Why not stay in the western region?”

“There ain’t anythin’ goin’ on here.”

“And that is a problem?”

They stared at each other, both unwilling to back down. Blue refused to entertain the game for very long, however.

“We will go to the Wilds, alternating decisions just as before, as is reasonable.”

“Wha, what’s that mean?”

“It means that we will not be harassing any fleets of galleons.”

He snickered. “Fine then.”

Blue sighed, not entirely convinced.

“You hungry?”

She paused, considering his words. “Starved,” to put it lightly.

Though supplies were lower than both would have liked with the two of them now, Blue still kept a good stock of food aboard the sloop. They shared a particularly large splashtail for dinner and Blue cursed her curiosity.

“Did you and Jackson pick up a third crewmate after you dropped Rylund off?”

“Nah.”

She looked at him, more curious. “You two seem… like-minded. You took on other ships undermanned?”

“Yea, we do it all the time,” he said after swallowing a mouthful of fish. He seemed curious of her curiosity if his expression was anything to go off of. “We didn’t come back on our ship, if that’s what y’re wonderin’.”

Blue stared at him.

“What?”

“That is not something I was wondering…” In fact, that raised more questions than it had answered. She shook her head. “Let me clarify this: you are… hunters… and you went undermanned and were successful? How?”

“Well, we attacked another brigantine, rammed ‘em, boarded ‘em, killed ‘em, and took their ship and shit t’ the nearest outpost.”

What a… crude method. Despite that, Blue could not deny that their strategy had been effective thanks to their abilities. She made a thoughtful noise and looked away from him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shift, looking rather smug.

“I will have none of that. Understood?”

He snorted. “ Fine .”

“Now then…” She thought for a moment. “Shipwreck Bay is the nearest island?”

He nodded. “Besides that giant arch.”

“Well, we are both up… Unless you need to sleep?”

“Nah, I’m good from sleepin’ ‘til you came back from the Ferry .”

“I am trying to forget about that.”

He laughed as she stepped away to get the ship moving.

*

It was deep into the night when they arrived at Shipwreck Bay. Travelling had been difficult, fighting both wind and waves to avoid slamming into the uncharted island between them — was that wreck of an island even worth being called that? — and to stay on course. Such a task would have had Blue ready to go back to bed, but the two of them being able to share the workload had made it that much easier. No, she was definitely coming around to the idea of having a shipmate, she just wasn’t thrilled that it was Z she was stuck with.

When they arrived and got the ship stopped at a spot that seemed good, Z made his way back to the rowboat, shifted it towards the island a little and disembarked. She took note of this, assessing the positioning of the rowboat, and then decided to join him on the island, jumping from the canopy onto the rowboat and then to the beach. Neither of them said anything as they retraced their old steps through the Blackwyche and onto the peak of the island.

It took no time for Z to make himself comfortable up there, sitting with his legs hanging off the side of the rock. Blue was less content and closely examined the observable horizon. To the north was Dagger Tooth Outpost and as was expected, a ship — a brigantine — was comfortably stopped at its dock. Besides that, she spotted nothing of interest and the area was otherwise clear of ships.

Satisfied with what she could and didn’t see, Blue started making her way down.

“You headin’ back down already?”

She stopped and took a breath in as she felt a familiar urge to strike him.

“Yes, I am heading back down. Is there a problem with that?”

“Ehh, jus’— I don’t see why y’ would. Got somethin’ t’ do?”

“I have plenty I could do.”

“That y’ could do.”

“What are you implying? That I sit up here with you and do nothing?”

“Why not?”

Blue recoiled. Try as she might, she had no good rebuttal. She made a small, aggravated noise before making her way over and sitting down beside him for a while.

*

The sun had been up a small while when she roused from her slumber. With her sleep schedule ruined by her latest trip to the Ferry , Blue wanted to amend that as quickly as possible and so had forced herself to get some sleep when it was still dark. That had proved to be easier than she expected; she figured she was still tired from being dead. What an odd thought that had been.

Whatever Z had done during that time wasn’t her concern but she was surprised to find him sitting on the bowsprit. He looked excited to see her awake, jumping to his feet.

“Hey, ready t’ get goin’?”

Blue rubbed her face with both hands. “Fuck, what now?”

“You ready t’ go?” he asked again. A moment later he asked, “Oorrrrr do y’ wanna eat?”

She sighed. “That may be an idea…” She looked more closely at him. “What are you so excited about?”

“That ship at Dagger Tooth left a little while ago. We can go get supplied up.”

“Ye—” They could also get food , Blue’s thought had started. But if they were going to Dagger Tooth Outpost of all places… “We should eat first.”

Z looked a little confused but nodded nonetheless before going downstairs. It was only a moment later that she heard him hiss in pain.

“This fish’s spiky! What the hell?”

Blue was quite happy to stay up there while she gathered her blanket, a small grin upon her face, and then make her way downstairs.

“You should be mindful of the spines,” she commented.

He gave her a discontented look before moving past her and thankfully leaving her alone. Though a fish had been retrieved from the barrel, Blue had to place it on the stove. Unlike him, she avoided being poked. She also took this time to change her clothes, the routine helping to wake her some more. All ready was she looking forward to going to bed tonight.

The plump little fish took hardly any time to cook and when it was done, Blue placed it on a plate. She took the fish topside and sat beside Z on the canopy. He looked at it again, expression souring when he saw the fish. She picked it up and demonstrated how easily the spines separated from the flesh.

“See?” With that comment, she peeled it into separate pieces.

Z made a small noise at her as he accepted his half, cringing slightly. With his gloves on, there was no way the fish poked at him just by laying in his hand, but that didn’t stop him from displaying annoyance at the mere prospect of being poked. He got over it when he pulled all of the spines out of his half and bit into it.

“This is good. N-not like the other one, but still pretty good.”

“They go very well with pineapple.”

He gave her a disapproving look before indulging in his breakfast.

After eating, they got the ship going north to Dagger Tooth Outpost. It wasn’t the best outpost in the Sea of Thieves, far from it, quite possibly the worst in all ways, but it was still a good place to scavenge for supplies. It didn’t hurt that there was a Merchant Alliance representative there, too. Given Z’s penchant for trouble, she didn’t mind being given the opportunity to sweet-talk the representative into selling them some supplies. Between all of that, they ensured that they had a sturdy increase in planks and cannonballs from this visit.

They had briefly considered getting food at the tavern again. While it was a welcome idea at any other outpost, they decided against it and split another fish.

With the day ahead of them, Z had started moving the ship. No one had said anything about it for a while until Blue couldn’t help but wonder where they were going.

“Wherever looks in’erestin’.”

Leave it to him to have such a simple answer. Though it was a little annoying, Blue decided that it wasn’t a problem. They had spotted nothing of note from Shipwreck Bay’s peak and so determining a beginning point for their journey was a little more difficult than normal. Blue wasn’t opposed to island jumping, though she wondered just how long that would keep her shipmate occupied.

Rather than wander aimlessly, a thought occurred to Blue.

“Take us west.”

He gave her an uncertain look. “Towards… Kraken Watchtower?”

“It is the nearest island before crossing the channel, is it not?” she explained.

Once there, Blue spoke again: “We saw nothing in the Wilds from atop Shipwreck Bay, correct?”

He seemed surprised when she started talking while they tied the ropes tight. He nodded. “Then it would benefit us to find a place where there has been activity, correct?” He nodded again. “I know there is activity in the northern Shores.” After turning around and leaning back against the sloop’s railing, he nodded a third time. “Whatever our exact goals are, it benefits us to find other crews.”

Z smirked. “Finally comin’ ‘round to—”

“I am thinking more in line with scavenging. Or perhaps… delicately… relieving others of their goods, should the opportunity present itself.”

“So it’d benefit us to find that fleet again.”

Blue sighed. “Yes, perhaps,” she said, rolling her eyes; “Though I highly doubt that we will be so lucky once more.”

“Then why don’t we go find ‘em and figure out what their voyage plans are?”

She looked at him for a moment before leaning against the opposite railing, considering his words. “That is not a bad idea. We should consider that for any crews we find, aye?” He nodded, grinning. “In addition to those who took a fight they could not handle.” Less enthused, Z took a moment before nodding.

Finally, Blue nodded back to him. “Then we agree to go into the Shores of Plenty to begin our search and if we are unsuccessful, we go to Sanctuary Outpost and see if anyone there has anything to tell us?”

“That’s the plan. We still tradin’ off who decides what we do with what ships?”

“Within reason.”

“‘Course.”

“As for now, we will stay here until the morning—”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

Blue nodded, slightly taken aback by his quickness but appreciative that she didn’t need to spell out the revised plan. With nothing going on, she decided to spend some time on the island. Like the other forts they had visited, there was a building on the tallest point of it that reach up into the sky, and just like before, it was Blue’s goal to climb that building. This one was no different, conquered in minutes.

Blue was content to spend quite a while up there. At one point, Z noticed her while gathering supplies off the island and awkwardly waved at her — she was beginning to suspect that he didn’t like heights. Or was it small platforms high up that he didn’t like? Beyond that, nothing piqued her interest; the horizon was just as clear as it had been at Shipwreck Bay, even considering the new view into the northern side of the Shores of Plenty. She only came down when she was hungry.

That evening, the two of them finished off what remained of another prickly fish Blue had caught, split a coconut, and had a bit of grog between the two of them. There was nothing to celebrate, but Z seemed to be in a particularly good mood and Blue could not come up with a good excuse to refrain. He couldn’t seem to shake the grin off his face as he paced about the deck and talked about the fish while she sat in the middle of the canopy, holding onto a nearly empty tankard with both hands as though her life depended on it, her mind and body a little slow.

“They’re islehoppers.”

“Why are they called that, though?”

“Hell if I know. No one ever sees ‘em between islands an’ they all come in the same colour at the same island — they’re weird . Y’ think they all taste different, too?”

Blue snorted. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it? I mean, splashtails and stormfish don’t taste the same.”

“Yes, but all every breed of fish tastes the same no matter the colour.”

Z stopped in his pacing to squint his eyes at her, annoyed by her logic. She laughed.

“Speakin’a which, we oughta stop in the way’a the next storm we see—”

“Absolutely not!”

“—so we can get some more’a those fish.”

“You mean so I may catch some more?”

“Yeah, that works. Thanks.”

Without missing a beat, Blue lifted her tankard and threw it at him. “You could help for once!” The noise he made was pleasing to her ear.

“What— I help in other ways! Like with all that fruit!”

Blue shook her head. “You would ‘ave done that anyway.”

“So?”

“… I am not out of things to throw at you…”

They squinted their eyes at each other.

“… fine. I’ll give it a try next time.”

“That is sufficient.”

He made a mocking noise that she found amusing. Then he paused, looking at her with a curiosity she wasn’t sure what to make of.

“What’s yer deal?”

Blue recoiled some, unsure what he wanted out of that question, evident on her face.

“Like… ye’ll scavenge and trade and steal from other ships but not fight ‘em?”

“Correct.”

“Why?”

She tilted her head at him, perplexed. “Why would I? No— why do you ?”

“Because it’s fun. Why trade stuff when I can jus’ take it all and get a fight out of it?”

Blue stared at him for a long moment. “I think… we are simply different in th—”

“No, answer me: Why shouldn’t I? Isn’t that what this place is about? Bein’ free t’ be pirates?”

As far as she knew, he wasn’t wrong. That wasn’t why she was here, though.

“Is it?” Now Z looked confused as she spoke. “Because while you may be here for that reason, I am not.”

“That… hmn. Why are y’ here then?”

She rolled her eyes. “I will tell you the same thing I told your friend: I am here to make myself a fortune that will last me my lifetime, maybe more.”

He made a thoughtful noise. A moment later, she realised that he had stayed quiet, and he was staring past her.

“What?” she asked, unable to turn around enough to look without moving more than she was comfortable with.

“There’s a gally out there.”

“Of course there is,” she groaned, getting to her feet. That was a mistake.

Indeed, far across the channel and to the northwest within the Shores of Plenty, a galleon could be spotted.

“How did you see that?”

“Their lanterns are on.”

“Still…”

“Think they’re checkin’ out that wreck?”

It took an obnoxiously long moment for Blue to realise what island they were likely at. “Perhaps. Why else would they be there?”

He shrugged. “Skellies, treasure… no riddles, though, too little an island. Well, maybe. Nothing’s ever cer’ain here.”

She made a noise of agreement.

“We sleepin’ in shifts?”

Blue looked at him, surprised. They were on the opposite side of Kraken Watchtower — the Forlorn Phoenix’s mast could easily be mistaken for part of the fortress, she thought.

“You think they will be a problem?”

“Maybe. If we can see ‘em, they can see us.”

She agreed with that sentiment. “Then I suppose we do.”

“Get some sleep; I’ll keep an eye out.”

Blue had just turned back to him to discuss who would sleep first when he said that, pleasantly surprised. “All right then.”

She stopped on the stairs, the two of them looking at each other. Z spoke first.

“You look a little—”

“Shut up.”

He stifled a snort and shrugged, turning around and then catching himself and going up the stairs to the canopy. A moment later he caught himself again, made a small noise as though he wondered why he went up there and then climbed up to the crow’s nest. Blue thought that was funny and had to keep herself from laughing the entire time she changed her clothes in the hold.

As thoughtful as Z had been in the moment, she didn’t immediately go back to the deck. Instead, she sat herself down at the table and opened up the current logbook. There was little worth recording in the last day, but with all the sailing they had done and her trip to the Ferry , she was falling behind. The encounter with the two Adams needed noting, as well as how she ended up sharing the ship with Z again, though they required her to fill in the blanks in her understanding more than anything else. Writing it all down, it once again shocked her just how ridiculous the situation was.

When she finally went back up to the deck and got settled on the canopy, Blue took a moment to look up at her shipmate. He was stood in the crow’s nest, leaning against the mast with his head turned in the direction of the galleon he had spotted. Why he was so concerned with it, she wasn’t sure, but maybe it was that she was overly un concerned with it.

Whatever the case might have been, Blue made herself stop thinking so hard about it and lay down to get some sleep.

Chapter 22: Smugglers' Bay

Summary:

A galleon still plagues their horizon so Blue and Z meander around to its north, occupying their time with a little exploration.

Curse his ability to sleep anywhere. Z had only planned to sit against the quarter-deck’s railing and rest his bleary eyes, but it surprised no one that he had fallen asleep. It had, of course, been somewhat embarrassing to have Blue wake him up with a pleasantly gentle kick to his foot. Her expression was one of disappointment — he had neglected to remove his pegleg — but she also seemed ready to start the day. He, however…

“What?”

“The galleon?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Right, that galleon. Of course, she’d be worried about it with him in his state. “It’s at Lone Cove now.”

She looked in that direction, wary. “Really now?”

“Uh huh,” Z replied, nodding. “Watched it go all that way and stop on the other side’a the island.”

“All right, I believe you. Now, why are you—”

“I jus’ closed my eyes for a few minutes.”

“Uh huh .”

Blue wasn’t convinced but she didn’t seem to want to push the subject.

A little while later she suggested, “How about we go north to that little island? It puts more distance between us and the galleon.”

“North t’… Scurvey? Sure, that works,” Z responded.

In the morning chill of the Wilds, both of them greatly appreciated the hot splashtail that they split for breakfast. After that, they got the ship moving towards their destination.

At some point, Blue had placed herself in the crow’s nest. When she inquired about their lanterns, he realised later that she was confirming for herself what he had said about the galleon.

“It can mean a lotta things,” he started, lazily leaning on the wheel. “Means they’re not afraid’a gettin’ spotted, or they’re too lazy to put ‘em out an’ use their handheld lanterns t’ see around.”

“Lit lanterns on a ship make it easier to see?”

Her question sounded rhetorical, but he responded nonetheless: “Yea, a lot. An’ all the lanterns being on on a ship make a ship shape, y’see?”

“Hmm. So dousing the lanterns hides the ship. It is good for… both hunter and prey.”

“Now y’ get it. It’s weird t’ see a ship lightin’ themself up like that.”

“Perhaps they are busy and need the light.”

“Maybe. Or maybe they’re invitin’ us t’ go over and tussle with ‘em. I dunno.”

Ultimately, neither of them knew what exactly the galleon was up to and so long as it kept to itself, that was fine by them. As much as Z liked fighting other ships, even he had to recognise that a sloop’s likelihood of winning against a galleon was quite low. Blue was right to not want to fight them, even if it was no fun.

The wind and waves meant it took them a while to reach their destination. If Blue was annoyed by their travel time, she didn’t show it. Z was certain that she was thanks to the galleon’s presence on the edge of the Shores of Plenty ruining her general mood.

They would cross the channel soon enough. If they really wanted to, they could cross now and stop at Picaroon Palms. It was close enough that it was a feasible plan in Z’s mind, though he decided against voicing this. Instead, they occupied themselves at Scurvey Isley.

They still had time to cross the channel before it was too late in the night. Z voiced his idea a little later.

“No, you need to rest tonight.”

He wrinkled his nose at her. It was true, he had hardly slept at all — by his own admission, too — but that didn’t mean he wanted to idly sit. Sleep sounded so good, though.

“Fine. We’ll… we’ll—”

“Find something to occupy your time until you go to sleep. I am certain you can manage.”

He made a mocking noise but conceded nonetheless to doing exactly that while she busied herself with her books until it was a more appropriate time for them to go to sleep. Before they did that, they had a quick conversation about the galleon’s presence and determined that it was unlikely to be an issue. With the decision made and their mutual exhaustion, they slept at the same time in their respective places.

*

Z awoke to the ship in an unremarkable state. Blue was not down there with him preparing breakfast, and when he finally made his way onto the main-deck, he saw the canopy was empty. Unsure of where else to look, he tilted his head upwards and spotted her feet hanging off the edge of the crow’s nest where she sat.

He called up, “What’s the word?”

Leaning over to look down at him, Blue regarded his presence for a moment before moving, sliding down the ladder.

“The galleon is still at Lone Cove. I have no idea what could be taking them so long there but I have spotted no rowboats or merfolk between us and them.”

Z chuckled. “That’s good. Not so great that they’re still there, though.”

“What do you suggest we do?”

“Well,” he started, considering the question and their options; “We don’t want t’ move closer t’ ‘em. And we don’t want ‘em gettin’ any ideas about us. So… we could make a straight shot for Salty Sands, pass Picaroon entirely.”

Blue crossed her arms, expression thoughtful. She didn’t seem convinced and made her way to the map table; he followed to see her looking over his proposed path.

“The wind is not bad, not great, and we would be against the ocean’s current.”

“If we go too slow, we can always stop at Picaroon.”

Blue looked at the map for a moment longer before nodding. “We had better get moving then.”

He was still getting used to her agreeing with his ideas, but this pleased him.

Blue had him take charge of the ship while she got them something to eat. Once again they shared a freshly fried splashtail, staving off the cold of the Wilds. Thankfully, they only needed something to make the cold more tolerable for a little while longer.

Crossing the space of open water between the regions was uneventful. Blue had spent the time up in the crow’s nest once more and Z wondered why exactly that was. Even considering the megalodon attack last time — last time, what an odd thought — didn’t clarify anything in his mind. That was the last place anyone should be in case of a megalodon attack — they’d get launched out into the water, far too far away from the ship to get back before the sharks got them. He supposed she could watch for anything large in the water from there and keep an eye on the galleon at the same time, as well as watch for any other ships they didn’t see over the waves.

The sun was beginning to get low in the sky when they passed Picaroon Palms. Z was more than happy to keep going and Blue didn’t speak up so onwards they went. When they reached their destination, there was only lingering light left in the sky, the sun now beneath the horizon.

“I am starved ,” Z declared as they tied the sail ropes for the night. Blue gave him a look that he wasn’t sure of. “You haven’t eaten either—”

“Fine, I will catch another fish for us.”

They must have been out of splashtails. That would explain both her annoyance and why she was currently getting her fishing pole out.

“Uh, thanks,” he sheepishly muttered. “Anythin’—”

“Find a coconut or two for us to drink from in the meantime.”

Well, he was going to offer to do something helpful, but that just felt mean. He stifled the beginning of an argument and nodded, going downstairs to do as told. A bit of coconut water went well with just about anything anyway, he reasoned.

Z purposefully took his time selecting a pair of coconuts before bringing them to the main-deck. The size of the fish that Blue was bringing out of the water was astonishing. It was definitely a splashtail, but it was huge .

“Are we eatin’ all that?”

“I see no reason not to,” Blue said, looking him over before spilling the contents of the fish’s body cavity over the side of the ship with a plain dagger. “We have not eaten much today and you have praised my diet before.”

He made a thoughtful noise and then nodded. He could eat half of that; he wondered if she could. They’d find out in a little bit. While the fish was cooking, she also changed into one of those overflowing nightgowns she was so fond of. He sat at the desk, tapping open the coconuts with the voting dagger Blue had been using earlier.

As she had said, they hadn’t eaten much that day. He shouldn’t have been surprised that each of them was able to eat their own halves of the fish and a coconut.

Dinner had been shared mostly in silence and then Blue set off to sleep. There was a predictability with her, a routine that he had come to appreciate. His usual crews all had their own tendencies, but outside of combat, there was very little routine . Blue liked to eat in the morning and the evening and she slept at night — that was far more than he could expect out of the others. Her sleeping meant that they couldn’t use the cover of darkness to travel, but he appreciated knowing what she would generally do throughout the day and he didn’t mind getting regular sleep himself.

It had been a huge risk to hope that Blue would accept him again, but he was glad to have taken that risk.

*

Z was up rather early the next morning. The first thing he did in the dark was climb up to the crow’s nest and get a horizon check in. All he spotted was the same galleon they had been keeping tabs on, now all the way down at Cannon Cove. Nothing else jumped out at him. They were quite alone up here in the north.

He and Blue had started making a habit of hanging their legs off the side of the edge of the crow’s nest. She didn’t go up there very often, but yesterday she had practically spent the whole day up there. Had the galleon unnerved her that much? Or perhaps it was just an easy way to keep distance between the two of them. Whatever the case, he hadn’t minded her constant vigilance.

As for now, Z decided that he was quite comfortable up there, leaning back on the railing. The darkness made the decision to doze an easy one. He closed his eyes and when he opened them in what felt like a mere moment later, the sun was rising over the horizon’s edge and the island birds were louder. The canvas was empty once more and he could hear and smell a fish frying. The latter had probably been why he’d awoken.

After stretching, he made his way down the ladder. He stretched again and tapped his pegleg on the deck before starting down the stairs. Blue was never startled when he announced himself in a way such as that and this time was no different. She was dressed and sat on the bed overlooking another large splashtail on the stove — he must have slept through her catching it. They nodded to each other as he sat at the foot of the bed.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

Blue leaned forward to flip the fish over. “What is the plan today?”

“Well,” he started, scratching at his shoulder; “The gally’s still over at Cannon Cove so they’re pretty far out. If they’re pickin’ anythin’ up they’ll prob’ly head t’ Golden Sands, but y’ never know.”

“So we should sit and wait for a while longer?”

“Or we can go check out the other islands nearby.”

She held a thoughtful expression for a moment. “And… what, meander?”

He nodded. She considered this for another moment before nodding back. That was unsurprising — she seemed to like exploring. There was nothing for them on this little island and he knew Blue to be an island hopper.

“We’ll head t’ Smugglers’ Bay. If we’re lucky, someone’ll be waitin’ for us there.”

Blue gave him a look; he looked back.

“Is this a… fun sort of ‘waiting for us’ or—”

Z couldn’t help laughing. He supposed it was only fair that he clarify what all he meant.

“Sometimes there’re roamers on the bigger islands. Sometimes the little ones, too. But some of ‘em are more lived in than others.”

“And Smugglers’ Bay is one such island?”

He nodded.

“Very well then. We will go there and… expect a welcoming party?”

“Hah, now y’re talkin’.”

*

No matter where one might have found themselves in relation to Smugglers’ Bay, it was a massive island, far taller than any ship and large enough to house many galleons within its namesake. Hiding the Forlorn Phoenix behind its bulk at the northern shoreline was an easy task.

Z was quite glad that his shipmate hadn’t asked why they didn’t stop the ship inside the island. Her cautious nature really must have saved her from a lot of unnecessary interactions with other crews.

After making sure that they were prepared for a fight — just in case — they disembarked. There was no way to climb the sheer cliff that ranged across the back side of the island so they had to trudge up the hill until they reached a ladder. It was up against the very northernmost part of the cliff wall, which also happened to be the tallest part of it. At the top nearby, there was a plank hanging off the edge of a small platform, used for… well, Z wasn’t quite sure what purpose it might have had. It was too far to be used to dive into the ocean; directly below it was a gathering of giant rocks, a skeleton atop them. He and Blue probably could have debated for hours and still not known what this was meant for besides breaking every bone in one’s legs.

From there, they stepped around either side of a rock formation just before them, eyes flicking about.

“It seems… quiet,” Blue commented lowly as they regrouped on the other side of the formation.

Z pointed to the western half of the island. “There’s thick tree cov’rage over there… Below us, there’s a cave. Over there—” he gestured to the eastern side of the island “—seems to be nothin’. We’ll check it last.”

She nodded. “What first, then?”

“The cave’s right below us and on about the same level as the forest is.”

They nodded to each other and Blue followed him to the exact positioning of the cave mouth under them, splitting up and going to either side of it. He climbed down the stone wall as far as he could and leapt the rest of the way; Blue handled the downward movement with far more grace than he did, using vines to lower herself almost the entire way down.

The cave opening was closely examined; nothing stuck out to either of them. Blue and Z looked at each other before nodding once more and stepping into it. The way curved to the left before opening up into a single chamber illuminated by glowing fungus. It was full of barrels, boxes, and other crumbling containers that had been left behind. Water leaked in through the ceiling and pooled at the back, strangely clear.

Just to be certain, Z pushed the lid of a barrel open with the tip of his sword. There was nothing to be afraid of inside it, though the rotting fruit was quite bothersome. Blue checked out a box, causing another to fall from the pile; nothing had been inside either of them. The next thing she checked was a sideways barrel that had some cannonballs in it. They looked at each other before picking up as much as they could comfortably carry. Blue found another barrel of good supplies, mostly planks and a few old coconuts. Then they finally exited the cave.

Back in the sunlight, they looked about the immediate area. To their right was what remained of a shelter that someone had built some time ago, the palm leaf roof dried out and the wooden supports beginning to pull away from one another.

Z took a few steps down the path and looked about. Everything was as he remembered it, including the cannon that perfectly overlooked the bay. Blue came to his side, her gaze resting upon it, a light sense of understanding crossing her face.

“We should—”

“I believe the island is deserted,” Blue interjected.

Z scowled slightly but looked about once more. No, if anyone was here, there would be signs, and so far there had been none. The cave was the best place to hide or set up an ambush, but it had been long since abandoned.

He suggested, “Why don’t we check the forest before we decide that?”

It took a moment for Blue to nod in agreement. She started in that direction before he did and he had to jog a few strides to catch up to her, looking ahead.

“Spread out a little, yea? You take right, I’ll take left.”

“Very well.”

After a short walk, they came to a point where the island split into different levels; continuing forward took them down while turning right would take them upwards back to the highest point of the island. They followed the way down, splitting up as agreed upon. They stayed within each other’s sight as much as they reasonably could.

Any signs of activity were scoured for: newly constructed buildings, recently lit fires or lamps, trash that had been left behind… They had seen nothing of the sort so far. As they neared the end of the trees, he heard Blue yelp. Considering the circumstances, he was confused but brought his sword before himself nonetheless, cutting through the brush as he urgently made his way to her.

She had only been out of his view for a moment. When she was back in his sight, Blue stood awkwardly, leaning on her cutlass and looking quite frustrated. Nothing seemed amiss…

“What’s—”

A sharp hissing noise in the bush before her caught his attention.

“Ah.” He chuckled. “He getcha?”

“Obviously,” she deadpanned. She lifted her injured leg, testing it before placing her foot back down with a small hiss of pain. What a day to wear short boots .

In one smooth movement, Z took a step forward and brought his blade down upon the bright blue snake. It hissed one final time before yielding its life force. He picked up its squirming body by the tail and looked from it to Blue.

“You look—”

“I feel sick.” Her words were heavy and deliberate.

“Yea.” They had found nothing at all so he agreed with her now. “There’s nothin’ here; let’s go back t’ the ship.”

Getting back to the ship consisted of Z walking ahead, stopping and waiting for Blue to catch up, repeating many times. She was moving slowly, a limp in her gait, and by the time they were stepping onto the deck of the ship, she was a sweaty mess. Z headed downstairs and heard her following. The plan had been to grab a knife with more precision than his sword to clean the snake’s body with, but Blue was now sitting at the foot of the bed, hunched over with her head in her hands. She didn’t look like she would last long enough for him to cook her attacker so he fished a mango out of the food barrel and handed it to her.

“Here.”

Barely moving, Blue shook her head at him. Z poked the side of her head.

“Eat. Y’ll feel better.”

“I think I would rather die.”

Z wasn’t sure if he should scold her or laugh. It was hard not to laugh regardless and he bit the inside of his cheek.

“I’m not askin’,” he said with some amusement that he couldn’t help. “An’ I don’t think y’re in any position t’ be fightin’ me ‘bout it.”

She let out a low groan but slowly moved a set of fingers around the fruit.

Z didn’t expect her to eat it right away, but he was going to keep an eye on her while he prepared the snake to be cooked. Speaking of which…

With a couple of pats to her legs, he located her dagger and retrieved it from her left calf. Just as he knew she would, Blue lifted her head to glare at him, but then she put her head back down. He’d been right that she felt too bad to move quickly or fight him over it, but he had expected something more out of her than just an annoyed look.

“ Eat ,” he reiterated.

Z went up the stairs to the mid-deck’s map table. There, he easily removed the head of the snake, tossing it over into the water. Then he opened the belly up and removed its contents, tossing those as well. Getting the skin off was a bit harder, but once he got a good cut between it and the flesh, it peeled away easily enough. He kept the skin — someone of Blue’s resourcefulness would certainly be able to find a use for it.

When he went back downstairs, Blue didn’t look as though she had moved, but the nibbled mango stayed his tongue. He coiled the snake’s body up and placed it in the pan on the stove, apparently startling her as she flinched at the sound of sizzling meat.

“Ever had snake before?”

She shook her head. He poked her again.

“Eat.”

“I feel li—”

“Like y’re gonna throw it all up? Yeah. Eat it anyway. Y’ll feel better even if it comes back up.”

He wanted to laugh when she groaned, almost certain that she was just being a big baby. Then again, outside of actually being dead, she looked worse than he had ever seen her before. He was just about to suggest she lay down when she did, though she hung her feet down towards the floor.

“Better?”

“A little.”

Just as he’d thought. Still… “Y’ll feel better with some meat in yer stomach.”

“Is it customary to eat your attacker here?”

“Hah, just the ones without legs.”

It seemed that they both thought that was funny and the tension lifted some. They were quiet while the serpent cooked, Blue nibbling at the mango more steadily. She still looked awful, but also as though she was improving, if only just enough. A question lingered on his mind…

“So did ya step on it?”

“I stepped on its tail. It made no noise, just… spun around and bit me.”

“What a day to wear those short little boots.”

“They are sailing-only boots now.”

Z chuckled as he turned the snake over. “Well, that won’t help if one spits on ya.”

Blue stared at the ceiling for a moment. “They spit?”

“Yeah. Y… Y’ never noticed before?”

“I make it a habit to avoid them…?”

How odd. Everyone in the Sea of Thieves eventually found themselves bitten or spat upon by the snakes native to it, but Blue… well, with a moment’s thought, it wasn’t a surprise that this was only the first time she had gotten too close to one. Or at least, it was the first time one punished her for doing so.

“Uhm. Yeah. They spit poison, too. They’re pretty toxic.”

“So I have noticed.”

He stifled a laugh and instead focused on finding a plate to put the cooked snake on. He found one in the bottom barrel — thanks to Blue’s help — and did that, wondering if he should grab anything else. She already had a mango, though, so he decided not to.

“Here,” he started, setting the plate beside her; “Eat. I’ll finish what you don’t. Careful of the bones. I’m gonna go empty my pockets out.”

Blue groaned something of an acknowledgement at him. He just chuckled and went up the stairs to do as he said, brushing a hand on her knee as he passed by. They hadn’t gathered very much from the short exploration of Smugglers’ Bay, but they had still managed to pick up good supplies nonetheless. The cannonballs were the heaviest things so he had wanted them gone first, but when he went back downstairs to deposit the planks, he found Blue more tightly curled up on her side.

The meat had been pushed further aside. He didn’t worry especially, but he touched her shoulder anyway before seeing that she was still breathing and took his hand away. She had nibbled at the snake as he’d told her to just enough that he was satisfied and didn’t try to rouse her. He put it on the empty space on the stove beside the pan for later.

Now Z wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He could sleep anywhere so that didn’t bother him, but it felt like he should have done something … Not that he was going to risk pissing her off by emptying her pockets for her, or anything else. He’d already pushed his luck with her dagger. The best idea, it seemed, was to just pull the blanket over her as much as he could, move the pillow closer, and let her sleep.

Chapter 23: The Shores of Plenty

Summary:

Time is spent at Smugglers’ Bay. While Z keeps an eye on everything, resting and relaxing in-between horizon checks and while keeping an eye on the galleon they’re wary of, Blue recovers from her snakebite. Eventually, she feels good enough to get back to sailing and things get a little more interesting.

The night came and went, bringing a pleasant morn. With the Forlorn Phoenix fully hidden behind Smuggler’s Bay, Z passed the vast majority of the time by sitting on the island. The southern point of it was made up of two tall peaks that came together, forming a towering opening of the bay. Between those peeks was a rickety bridge; beside it, he had slept in the grass. Now, as the sun rose, he stirred and reattached his pegleg so that he could stand and observe the horizon.

He wanted to scream. The galleon they had been watching was close to Sanctuary Outpost now, so much so that it was already in the process of reefing its sails in preparation to stop.

It was with a deep sigh that Z supposed, At least it isn’t coming here.

As good of a hiding spot as they had, they had unfortunately backed themselves into a corner. Short of leaving the Sea of Thieves entirely or backtracking, there was nowhere that they could go to put more distance between them and the galleon. A ship leaving the safety of cover of such an island was bound to rouse suspicion, too…

While Z contemplated what they could or should do, the sound of a cannon firing from behind him caught his attention. That was quite odd, but even stranger was that it sounded close. He turned around just in time to see a cannonball go flying past.

Well, that removed all doubt from his mind. Just a short time ago, a skeleton had roused and taken to the cannon in the middle of the island. Some, like this one, were especially enthusiastic about attacking pirates. Shooting at him from across the island with a cannon, though… what a brazen fool.

Sprinting from the southern edge of the island to head inland was not the most difficult task in the world for Z — cannonballs flew rather slowly, but there was always the worry of What if? Taking a shot to the face was a sure way to visit the Sea of the Damned, but that wasn’t the concern; indirect hits were the worrisome ones — a pirate could lose a limb to that and Z had already lost more than his fair share.

A cannonball clipping a tree and taking a chunk out of its trunk only solidified his concerns.

As he got closer to the skeletal cannoneer, he spied two more of them with cutlasses in hand, lingering without purpose. When he got close enough that the cannoneer no longer felt safe on the gun, it brandished its pistol at him. Dashing past its friends, Z took his sword to it first — most skellies may have been limp-wristed, but a gunshot was the same no matter who wielded it.

With the gunner taken care of, Z turned his attention to the other two that were now rushing him in earnest. He brought his cutlass over his head and lunged forward, obliterating them in one fluid motion.

With a small sigh, he looked over his handiwork, then decided he ought to see if the commotion had woken Blue up. The trek up to the highest point of the island’s north side was something he did at a comfortable pace. From the platform with the two ladders, he spotted her on the main-deck of the ship, sword in hand. Still, she looked calmer than he had expected.

When he made his way down there and climbed the ladder onto the quarter-deck, they exchanged looks. When Blue didn’t adjust her gaze, he explained, “Jus’ a skelly.”

“Right… The cannon on the island…” She sounded better than she did last night. “Did… did it shoot at you with the cannon?”

Z made a little ‘snrk’ sort of noise. “Uh huh.”

“How… peculiar.”

"Yeah, they’re little shits.” He took a moment to look her over. “How y’ feelin’?”

“Better,” she said. “Not completely back to normal, but better.”

He nodded to that.

“I take it you are hungry?”

Considering how pissy Blue had been the last time he brought up food, he decided to just shrug his shoulders. “I can jus’ eat a pom’ or somethin’ when I get hungry.”

She made a noise of discontent but didn’t argue. “Fine. I am uncertain I could stomach anything right now anyway.”

“Still that sick, eh?”

She mustered up an annoyed expression for a moment before changing the subject. “Is the island safe again?”

“Safe as it can be, I guess.”

“Anything more?”

“The gally’s at Sanctuary.”

She sighed and looked as frustrated as he had been about it.

“So I’m thinkin’ we jus’ wait and see what it does.”

“There is not much else we can do without being spotted, is there?”

Z shook his head. “Not really. ‘Sides, if y’re still too sick t’ eat, y’ should rest another day.”

Once more she twisted her expression into one of aggravation for just a moment. She managed to only look slightly annoyed now. “I suppose you are not wrong.”

Z chuckled with satisfaction. “Go lay back down.”

She made a disgruntled noise but ducked down low to do just that.

*

Z spent the rest of the day on the island. No other skellies rose from the earth to pester him; the galleon loitered about Sanctuary Outpost. As far as he could tell, Blue spent the day upon the Forlorn Phoenix , hopefully resting. When the sun began to sink towards the horizon, he made his way back to the ship to see if his suspicions were correct.

He found her at the table, eyes shut and head leaned upon the palm of a bent arm. It was impossible to deduce if she had been reading or writing, a quill pen discarded just beyond her reach, half of a pomegranate closer. She shifted slightly as he approached and he tapped his pegleg to get her attention.

“How ya feelin’?”

“Like I was bitten by a snake a day ago.”

He chuckled. Judging by the colour of her face, her snark, and that she had eaten, she must have been feeling better. That bit of fruit was far from a hearty meal, though.

“I take it y’re feelin’ better then. Hungry?”

She shook her head.

“Eh, I didn’t think so. I had a coconut earlier,” he stated, sitting on the edge of the table. “Y’ still tired, too?”

“Yes, even after sleeping so much. I think I will sleep through the night still.”

Z nodded. No doubt she was pleased about that, if only for her routine. “It’s not like there’s anythin’ else t’ do anyway.”

“I take it then that the galleon has not moved?”

He shook his head.

“But of course.”

Z didn’t mind the prospect of fighting a galleon. As unlikely as their chances of success, it was a challenge he didn’t shy away from. The problem was with them at the outpost, they were no doubt selling whatever goods they had collected — his bargaining material for his case to fight them.

It seemed he was destined to spend another night sleeping on the island.

“If y’ don’t need anythin’, I’m gonna head back ont’ the island, keep an eye on the gally and get a bit’a sleep.”

She eyed him warily. “You would do that even after a skeleton shot at you with a cannon?”

He shrugged. “Comes with the territ’ry.”

She hesitated, but then said nothing more. They nodded to each other before he disembarked. It was another long walk to the southern peaks of the island to observe the galleon for a time.

When the darkness had been a constant and his eyelids became heavy, Z made himself comfortable in the grass once again and slept the remainder of the night.

*

In the morning, Blue and Z shared a coconut and splashtail for breakfast when Z reported that the galleon had just left Sanctuary.

“What might they be doing?” Blue inquired.

It was with great effort that Z suppressed the urge to be resentful that he didn’t know what the galleon was up to. He could have, but alas, that was not the path chosen.

“No idea. Whatever it is, they’re too skittish t’ go far from an outpost.”

“Well, if they are moving away, then we are free to move as well, correct?”

He nodded. Finally, they could go to Sanctuary.

“Y feelin’ up t’ sailin’ today?”

“Yes. I am mostly better. Food is making me feel less nauseous now.”

“Good.” She’d be back to normal tomorrow for sure. Today, though, Z knew that he would probably end up doing most of the work sailing. That was fine with him. “Why don’t y’ sit yerself in the crow’s nest again today and keep an eye on the gally?”

She visibly considered his words. “I can do that,” she said with some amount of distrust. He noticed that.

“I jus’ don’t want y’ over-doin’ it too soon, y’ know?”

Blue wrinkled her nose, failing to fight off a smirk. “ Y’ know , if I do get sick up there, I cannot simply lean over a railing to keep the deck clean.”

It took him a long moment to realise that she was making a gross joke. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Well, don’t get sick then.”

She wouldn’t. He was sure of that. It didn’t stop Blue from coughing now and again while she was up there just to keep him on his toes, however.

*

Sanctuary Outpost was a pleasant little island situated in a beautiful part of the Sea of Thieves. When the galleon had started south, Blue and Z were able to fully enjoy the island without the worry of other crews. They spent some time apart in separate areas of the outpost before reconvening in the tavern for dinner.

“Find anythin’ in’erestin’?” Z asked once he felt like they could speak with each other.

Blue made a thoughtful expression while she cut her pork chop into bite-sized pieces. “Not especially. I did manage to glean some information about the galleon, though.”

He leaned forward.

“They are working some sort of business for the Order of Souls. Not the usual skeletal bounties, but no one would say exactly what. The clothing store’s shopkeeper should not have said anything at all if it were such a sensitive topic and the witch just about threatened me when I tried to press her for more information. The gall of the little thing.”

Z smirked. That was interesting and Blue’s annoyance towards the representative was more than a little funny. It was almost like that of a frustrated mother. More importantly, the information she had been able to gather was a nudge in the right direction.

“So they’re doin’ somethin’ for the Order?” It was more a statement than a question. “That might be worth checkin’ out.”

Blue sighed and rolled her eyes at him, thoroughly unenthused. “The Order is not to be taken lightly. If they have secret business with a crew, it ought to stay between them.”

He had some choice words for Blue’s skittishness, but he refrained from voicing them. “Fiiine.”

She poked at her food some more before putting the fork down. “It may not be a bad idea to shadow them, but only from a great distance. Tomorrow morning we will see if we cannot find them.”

Z pondered the idea. “That sounds good t’ me… though, why the change’a heart?”

“Secret business for the Order is very interesting, as you have put it. While we were apart, I helped another witch in the Isles by retrieving a skull for her.”

“That’s jus’ normal Souls business.”

She shook her head. “No, she did not send me on a bounty hunt. She sent me to find the skull .”

It took Z a moment to fully understand what she was saying. It was a literal statement. That was very odd. “Wait, like… they already knew the skelly was dead? Err, deader?” Blue nodded. “And all y’ had t’ do was go get it?” She nodded again. “That’s… weird.”

“That is what I thought as well.”

Teasing, he added, “It’s also pretty weird that y’ decided yer best bet fer comp’ny were a bunch’a heads.”

“They do not back-talk very much.”

Z narrowed his eyes at her, unable to help something of a smarmy grin. Blue paid him no mind as she ate her meal. They focused on dinner until they were finishing up, plates nearly cleaned. Something lingered on his mind…

“What made y’ do work with the Order?”

“I strive to make coin.”

“Yeah, but weren’t y’ workin’ for the Merchant Alliance before?”

“It is that line of work that took me to Plunder Outpost.”

He snickered. “Tryin’ somethin’ new then, eh?”

“They pay better, too.”

Blue leaned back, tapping the fingertips of one hand on the table. Z waited for her to speak.

“The Merchant Alliance pays good, steady coin for the moving of cargo. They pay better for recovered goods. The Order, however, pays better overall. They care not where you get your heads from.”

She was quiet for a long moment before she grunted, her expression as though she were unable to figure out how to word herself. “Simply put, I did little work for them before because I was ignorant of the magic in this place.”

“Ah.” Z nodded. “So y’ didn’t work with ‘em ‘cause y’ didn’t know about the healing and the Ferry ?”

“Mm, I noticed the accelerated healing here. I was not aware of the Ferry , however.” She paused. “And I was… inspired by our performance at Hidden Spring Keep.”

Z was proud to display a haughty grin. “Well, y’re very welcome.”

She rolled her eyes. “I said our performance. I never would have considered facing such a horde of skeletons before then on my own.”

“Uh huh. Y’re quite a lot welcome then,” he snickered.

Blue gave a defeated sigh. “I am going back to the ship to work on the logbook,” she declared, standing. “I am behind.”

That she was. He nodded, taking a big swig of grog as she passed by him. Z was quite content to stay in the tavern and drink. It wasn’t until long after the sun and Blue had both gone down for the night that he came stumbling back to the ship to get some sleep.

*

It must have been late in the morning when Z woke up because he almost fell out of bed when the ship rolled over a particularly large wave. Why Blue hadn’t just gotten him up… He stifled his complaints and sat up, hanging onto the edge of the mattress as he looked for his pegleg. It had shifted out from under the bed and was now against the barrel of swords. He silently thanked no one in particular that it had not rolled further as he set it in place.

Stepping onto the deck, Z looked about. He immediately recognised the tiny island they had reached as Rapier Cay. It must have been later into the day than he thought.

“About time you got up,” Blue chimed from the helm as she pulled the sail up.

“What, didn’t feel like gettin’ me up?”

“You refused to get up.”

“Oh.” He snickered.

Ignoring him, Blue changed the subject. “The wind has been agreeable today.” That was an understatement — the sloop had flown across the waves to get here that fast.

Z nodded. “Is this as far as we’re goin’?”

“The wind is coming from the southeast — if we turn south we are against it and that much slower. I would rather not sail after dark while we follow a galleon.”

He considered this. Sailing at night meant they would be harder to notice, but then so too would the galleon. He knew very well that such a scenario could be quite problematic. Perhaps she was right to be wary.

Still, it surely couldn’t be that late in the day… “Hey, uh, what time is it?”

She sighed and checked her pocket watch. “It is closer to supper time than it is not.”

“Oh.” Yes, it was much later than he thought it to be.

“What did you even do last night?” she inquired in quite an accusatory tone.

“Uh, I drank.”

She stared at him for a long moment, an uncomfortable expression of disapproval across her face. Then she looked away and shook her head.

“Before the galleon disappeared in the south, it turned somewhat westerly. It would seem that they intend to go to Mermaid’s Hideaway, or perhaps leave entirely. The Devil’s Shroud is a shifting entity, correct?”

He nodded. “Yeah, it changes around. It’s how people get in an’ out.”

“So it is just as I have heard.”

He nodded again. “Say, why don’t we go t’ Crescent? We might be able t’ spot ‘em from there and it’s still plenty far?”

Blue’s hands went to her hips as she considered his words. “Perhaps. Do you plant to stay up all night and tomorrow?”

“I’ll get a few hours sleep in the mornin’.”

She gave him an unimpressed glare but relented. “Fine then. We will rest for a few hours before continuing.”

Z thought that was a good idea. They were starting to make a habit out of this, of taking turns sleeping while the other kept them going somewhere. It was a great way of working together, he decided.

They spent much of the evening apart until it was time to eat. They split a pineapple that Blue heated and salted. Tankards of grog were also shared, enough so that not too long after they ate, Blue chose to go to sleep instead of working in her logbook. More steady on his feet than she was, Z got the little ship moving southwest.

Crescent Isle wasn’t too far away and the wind was still reasonable, albeit blowing more from behind the ship now. It wasn’t very late into the night when they arrived. Z took the ship to the west side of the island and nestled it in close to it, using the island’s height to hide the mast from most angles.

Far from keen to repeat the incident at Smuggler’s Bay, Z disembarked to scour the island. There were no cannons on this island at all, and there was a total lack of skeletons and their signs. The previous island was such a large, dense island that they hadn’t been able to sweep it entirely. This was a pleasing change. There were, however, snakes here, too.

From the top of the island, Z peered about. Even with all the light from the stars and moon, he could not spot any other vessels, including the gallon that they had shared a visual space with for so long.

Satisfied with his horizon check, Z made his way back to the ship. Just as he had told Blue, he intended to get a bit of sleep. He sat himself down on the quarter-deck, leaned against the canopy structure, and did just that.

*

Z wasn’t shocked when his next bout of consciousness began with a kick to his foot. He’d removed his pegleg before sleeping, so he wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve it, though it had been a gentle kick. He was pleasantly surprised to find that he was offered a freshly fried splashtail, albeit with missing fins.

“Oh. Thanks.”

Right, he had hardly eaten yesterday. Half a pineapple hadn’t been very substantial for an entire day and the splashtail’s disappearing act was a testament to that.

Blue leaned against the ship’s railing beside him. “What of last night?”

He considered her question and paused in his greedy munching to swallow and clear his mouth. “I didn’t see the gally before I sat down. Didn’t see anythin’, actually.”

“They are at Mermaid’s Hideaway, at the back of the island just as we are.”

“Ah.”

“There is another galleon coming in from the south.”

He almost choked. “Shit, what?”

She smirked. “It would seem that they are to have company soon.”

“Or we’re goin’ t’. If we can see ‘em, they can see us and we’re an easier target.”

“Or perhaps that,” Blue conceded. “Judging by their angle, however, it looks as though they intend to go to Mermaid’s.”

That was interesting. A galleon alliance? As fun an idea fighting two galleons for their loot sounded, they simply stood no chance and Z knew it.

“So we sit tight an’ watch.”

“Mm. I see nothing else for us to do. Unless we would like to Golden Sands?”

“Nnn… I don’t see why.”

“There may be more information to discover about the galleon. Galleons? My point is that it may be worthwhile. We may also find worthwhile supplies.”

Z made a thoughtful noise. The only reason they were even following the first galleon was because Blue had discovered that it was on some sort of mission for the Order of Souls and both of them were too curious for their own good. At Golden Sands, it was very likely that they would find good supplies just as she said, but more attractive right now was the prospect of information. If they looked as though they had sold any loot they might have had, they could also make themselves an uninteresting target to the larger ships. A good tavern-cooked meal didn’t hurt, either.

“It’s not the worst idea y’ve ever had.”

She tilted her head. They looked at each other for a moment.

“Shall we?”

*

Something about Golden Sands didn’t sit well with Z. There was nothing wrong with the outpost, it wasn’t hard to navigate, the tavern offered good food, though it was easy to confuse with Sanctuary Outpost… he just kind of didn’t like it.

Blue clearly thought he was crazy, but neither did she speak further about the matter. Instead, while they sat at a table just outside the tavern, they ate dinner and discussed the matter of the two galleons and how they found out nothing more about them.

“It would see that my eye was right — the new galleon is still set making way to Mermaid’s Hideaway.”

Z gave her a long, curious look. He took another bite out of one of his chicken legs before responding. “Really?”

She nodded. “All day I watched it move towards the other. I do not get the feeling that they are looking for a fight.”

“How’s that?”

She tapped the table with a single index finger. “They way they are moving… steady and direct — does that seem aggressive or shy to you?”

He shook his head. “Could be either.”

She shrugged. “It is a very long time to move so purposefully, and a very long time to simply sit and wait for a fight to come to you.”

“So y’re sayin’ that they planned t’ meet up there?”

She nodded.

A galleon alliance — what a treat. At least, that was partially how Z felt about it. He also recognised that attacking more than one ship was a difficult prospect, especially if one were a galleon. Two galleons… an interesting idea, but he preferred to stay on Blue’s good side for now.

“That’s a shame.”

She gave him a look and he knew they were of the same mind. And yet…

“What?”

“I would expect you to want to go into that mess with guns loaded.”

Yep, they were of the same inclination. He was starting to really enjoy this synergy they shared.

“It ain’t often I see this, but I ain’t about t’ go runnin’ int’ cer’ain death, neither.” He shifted some. “Besides, knowin’ y’re gonna lose a fight takes some’a the fun out of it.”

She made a noise that he took for approval. “That is very thoughtful of you.”

He shrugged.

“Now, where do we go from here?”

That was a good question that took Z by surprise. They had gone through the Shores of Plenty and found nothing interesting. They had followed a galleon and it led them to another… That made him curious.

“Y’ think the new gally’s the one y’ spotted in the Isles?”

Blue took a moment to think on that. “Probably.”

“Then why don’t we go down there next?”

“I see no reason not to.” She thought for another moment. “We will go to Wanderer’s Refuge tomorrow, then to Plunder Valley?”

Wanderer’s wasn’t too far from Golden Sands; it would be a long day of sailing, but it was doable. Wanderer’s to Plunder was a bit further… that suggestion surprised him.

“That’s a long way t’ go.”

“It is. It is a long way to go, but is it not within reason if we trade stations and continue to alternate the times we sleep?”

He chewed up another mouthful of drumstick, hiding his amusement. “It’s doable… What, y’ startin’ t’ like sleepin’ in the bed?”

The irritation on her face was vague, but there was enough to amuse him further. “I do not mind it. More importantly, we can get more done. Besides, always having someone on watch is not a bad idea with all these galleons lurking about.”

“Mm, it’s not the worst idea…”

“Then you have no qualms with this plan?”

He shook his head. “Nah. But where do we go from there?”

“Hopefully, we spy something of interest by then.”

Chapter 24: Uninvited Company

Summary:

Wary of the presence of two galleons, seemingly friendly to each other, Blue and Z head back into the Ancient Isles.

The waves didn’t fight them very much as they travelled east away from Golden Sands Outpost. The wind, however, turned against them not long after setting out and thus the journey to Wanderer’s Refuge took longer than it should have. The massive island was a welcome reprieve and they stayed there for a few days.

On the first day, they watched the galleon from the south continue moving towards Mermaid’s Hideaway until it reached the island. There was no longer any question as to whether or not the two ships were on good terms — certainly enough to meet up. Whether or not it was a predetermined meeting, Z nor Blue could say, and neither was interested in finding out.

When at last the wind shifted majorly and blew along their route, they left Wanderer’s behind. Plunder Valley was directly south and quite a ways away. They spoke of stopping at Sailor’s Knot Stronghold if conditions did not take them along fast enough. It took longer than the daylight hours offered and Z had to take charge of sailing while Blue got some sleep in the lower deck. He woke her in the dead of night after getting the ship properly stopped on the southwestern beach so that he could have the bed.

On this day, both of them slept later into the morning than usual, until the sun was close to its highest point. Blue had taken the luxury of dozing in the warm sun until the sounds of the island birds began to aggravate her. As she roused, she reasoned that if she had slept late, then Z surely had, too. She went and poked at him and found him agreeable to getting up, allowing her the opportunity to get changed into an outfit appropriate for exploring the island after they ate.

Speaking of which… she highly doubted that Z would take the initiative on that. If she didn’t get food for them, then they wouldn’t eat. Rather than getting out a previously cooked splashtail, she chose to catch a fresh fish. Using half of a banana for bait probably hadn’t been the best idea, as the only fish that really took to the hook was almost as big around as she was and put up quite the fight that Z watched from the crow’s nest. He stayed up there all the while she worked on the carcass; it was only when she was nearly done frying it that she heard him slide down the rope ladder.

In addition to the fish, a pair of coconuts were collected from the barrel and cracked open. The fish still had a while to fry so she stepped away from it to find Z situated at the table. As always, he was delighted to have a coconut in the morning and she briefly wondered why he never helped himself if that were the case; she refrained from speaking so as to avoid a dumb argument. Instead, she addressed the business.

“Did you spot anything while you were up there?”

He paused in chewing on a bit of coconut to shake his head. “Nothin’ at all. Can’t really see much besides where we came from, though; island’s in the way.”

“Then we will look from the peak of the island after we eat.”

“Together?” he whined.

“Together. And you will explain to me just what is so bad about this island as we walk.”

He made another whiny noise as she stepped away to check on the fish. Her timing was good as it was nearly done. While she plated it, she silently considered why Z might not like this island and found herself more curious as nothing logical came to mind.

Eager to be on the island and exploring, Blue could have eaten slower. Z, on the other hand, took his sweet time. She refrained from striking up a conversation that would slow him even further.

When he was done eating, they grabbed their gear and disembarked from the ship. From the beach, they went right, starting up a path that very quickly split into two, a tall statue of a bird figure a the fork. The path to the left went through the sharp gorge that ran through this part of the island; the other path went up and over a hill. Agreeing on which one to take was not straightforward.

“Up there looks to go nowhere,” Blue explained, gesturing to the right path. She motioned to the other path, saying, “Through here and to the left will take us up the island. Or we can go back—”

“Fine, we’ll go yer way,” Z snapped.

His attitude bothered her. Rather than let his sharp words determine their way, she shook her head and said, “No, no, we can make certain of this.” Stepping away from him, she started up the hill. “There is a way down on the other side where we will meet.”

Z made the most obnoxious, loud, exaggerated groan behind her that she had ever heard from him. She froze, heavily considering scolding him for such childish behaviour. Instead, she waved him toward the way through the valley so they could get their day going.

Along the hill was a dirt path, just as Blue knew there to be. She kept to it, heavily interested in avoiding any potential snakes after her last run-in with one. It was only a little later that she realised it was not snakes that they needed to be concerned about.

“Hey— eyes up!”

Down in the gorge, deep in the dirt underneath the brush, skeletons had been hiding. Blue and Z spotted the first one at the same time as it emerged just ahead of him and to his left, emitting raspy growls. Z turned to face it, backing up; Blue didn’t have time to tell him not to. Behind him, another skeleton was emerging from the ground, sticking an arm out of the ground and swinging wildly with its sword. She winced as Z staggered and tumbled to the ground.

Getting down the hillside wasn’t impossible; it was steep, but there were enough rocky footholds that she could have done it, albeit slowly. Instead, she brought her gun into her grip.

The first skeleton that had emerged had a partner now, and at least two others were behind Z. She took a shot at the first one and it crumpled. She was thankful for their weak resolve.

In the time it took her to reload her musket and bring it back up to aim, Z had taken out a skeleton on his own, having shoved his cutlass between its ribs and twisted it apart. Blue shot another as he took a swing at it, both of them just missing their marks. She spied a pineapple in his hand before she looked away to reload again. The next shot landed.

Just before she finished her next reload cycle, the sound of a gun’s hammer being pulled back gave her reason to pause: that was not her doing. Before she could turn, a flintlock pistol was fired and the projectile ripped through her right shoulder. The pain gave her the motivation to spin around and beat the skeleton with the butt of her gun, knocking its head clean off.

When she turned back around, Z was on his feet and looking her way, the rest of his attackers dispatched. They looked to each other, taking a moment to breathe.

When Z moved towards the hillside, clearly intent on climbing it, Blue became aware of blood pouring from her shoulder. She glanced at it, ascertained that the bullet had gone straight through, and that it was not life-threatening despite the pain. She took a step forward and raised a hand to stop him from climbing up, then motioned back the way they came. With hurried feet, they backtracked to where the paths came together.

“You good?”

Blue forced herself to stand up straight. “It is nothing that will not mend.” She looked at him, recalling how terribly his ankle had been cut, unable to help a glance. “The better question—”

“I’m fine.”

Blue tilted her head slightly as she had a hard time believing that. “I saw that swing—”

“I’m good,” Z repeated sternly, turning slightly to hide his foot behind the pegleg. “It’s fine, I promise. Pineapples, ‘member?”

“I saw where it hit you. Are you certain you require no st—”

“I’m sure.”

Blue stared at him for a long moment before taking a breath in. That hurt. She winced and he gave her a look. If he was all right after eating part of a pineapple…

“Would you be willing to share then?”

“Share?— oh.” He blinked and searched for words. “Uh, I ate the whole thing.”

Z was not a small man by any means, yet for him to be able to wolf down an entire pineapple… and in the middle of combat!

Blue sighed. That, too, hurt.

“Do y’ not—”

“I want a fish,” she declared as she stepped past him and towards the ship. It took a long moment before she heard Z follow her.

A cold splashtail wasn’t the most appetising thing in the world, but it satisfied the craving she had developed. Halfway done eating, she came back to the main-deck, observing Z leaning against the helm’s railing. Her shoulder was already feeling better, and she supposed that his ankle could have been healed by the entirety of a pineapple… Still, he had been very… coy about it.

“Feelin’ better?” he asked.

“Not as good as you, I suppose.”

He chuckled. “We’ve got more pineapples, don’t we?”

“It seems… wasteful to eat it after the matter,” she explained. She looked to her shoulder again, the dark blood contrasting against the white cloth. “Besides, this shirt is ruined anyway.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“I suppose your boot is also ruined?”

“Y… maybe, yea.”

“Shall we refresh our supplies and try again?”

That got a toothy grin out of him.

After grabbing some fresh food, ammunition, and when Z had put a different boot on, they took back to the island. Z didn’t fight over the path they took this time, instead going through the gorge together without question. “We stay together,” Blue had insisted, much to their chagrin.

The path to the top was a long and winding one, taking them through the entirety of the island. The incline up was gentle and they didn’t mind it too much, walking in a comfortable silence. They were bothered no more by skeletons, the ambush apparently having been all the danger the island had to offer.

For someone who didn’t like this island, Z sure knew his way around it. As they went up the trail, he never stopped to wait for Blue when she lagged behind and neither did he ask for directions in the thickest parts of the forest where the trail was at its lightest. Sure, getting to the top was only a matter of following said trail, but her interest had been piqued.

“What is so bad about this island?” Blue asked.

Z looked over at her, chewing the inside of his cheek with the most unenthused expression he could muster. “Y’ve never had t’ dig up anythin’ here, have ya?”

No, she had not. Being so adverse to such work, it took great effort for Blue to consider this scenario, yet she still found herself unconvinced. “Explain.”

“Y’ve seen the island on the map, yeah?” She nodded. “It’s huge . And there ain’t much in the way’a landmarks.”

Blue disagreed with that statement, but when she thought a little more about it, she decided that there were few significant landmarks. Besides those, it was easy to get lost in the trees. She nodded and gestured for him to continue.

“The island’s so big that findin’ what y’re diggin’ up takes forever. Worse, someone wants t’ have a fight with ya and y’re here, movin’ ‘cross the island takes so long…”

“I believe I get the idea,” Blue interjected. Z seemed like he was about to go on a tangent that she wasn’t interested in entertaining. This all sounded like an experience.

On the final turn up the path, they passed a mostly barren cliff that jutted out from another rock formation. A tree was growing in the middle of the platform, offering a little shade in what looked like would be a pleasant place to sit when the tree was more mature. Blue made a mental note of this location.

Further along the way, they came upon a ritual site with yet another bird feature to it. They passed it, continuing along the trail past yet one more altar. They gave each other a curious look as they did.

At the top of the island was an unlit brazier, set up back during the first Festival of the Damned that was celebrated. Coincidentally, this was also the highest point of the island, a clear vantage point facing the southeast. The only thing that Blue could spy was a large flock of seagulls between the nearby fort and Plunder Outpost. Something in the water was quite interesting.

“Do you see anything?” she asked Z.

He shook his head. “Nothin’ but those gulls over the water. Unless there’s some specs in my eyes.”

“No, there is certainly a flock of seagulls out there.”

“Think it’s worth checkin’ out?”

“Always. There could be any number of things under those birds, but I would expect it to be a shipwreck. Those attract the most birds.”

He seemed to consider her words before dipping his chin. “Y’re right about that.”

Blue looked over the area once more before nodding to herself, deciding that investigating that was a fine idea. When she looked back to Z, she was astonished to find him sitting on the rock ledge just past the brazier. His unease at Ashen Reaches came screaming to the forefront of her mind.

“What are you doing?”

“Sittin’. What’s it look like?”

“I thought you and heights disagreed with one another?”

He was quiet for a moment. “It’s the climbin’ I don’t like.” He lifted his pegleg up to emphasise his point.

“… ah. I see.”

“Uh huh,” he quipped, leaning back against the brazier. For a split moment, she considered igniting it with the flame of her lantern. Blue chose to go to his side instead, quickly sitting so that he didn’t have time to consider pushing her.

No wonder he had decided to stay up here for a while — now that she wasn’t looking for anything, it struck her that the view was rather marvellous.

Blue wondered why she looked down. It was quite a drop. Almost directly below them, she spotted an inanimate skeleton, one that she was certain hadn’t been part of the earlier ambush. Z noticed it as well.

“… huh.” He looked at her. “Don’t fall, I guess.”

A moment later, she scooted a little bit away from him.

*

Just in case the galleons of Mermaid’s Hideaway moved back into The Ancient Isles, the Forlorn Phoenix was moved to the eastern beach where the bulk of the island would hide it from sight. Here, there was an old shipwreck, and Blue was immensely curious. Despite a thorough investigation, she found nothing of value or interest in it, not even its name. Z had no words of wisdom to share regarding it.

Much of Blue’s day was spent exploring the island once over again. She made it a point to familiarise herself with its points of interest. About the island were numerous references to birds, or maybe a bird, in the form of many statues and quite a few paintings. Inside the cave system that she had neglected during the walk, she found what appeared to be a shrine dedicated to the bird figure(s) that the island honoured. It was all a bit unsettling. Still, she determined that there were landmarks on the island, it was just that all the jungle foliage covered them up.

On the upper level of the island was a pointed rock that had been shaped in the likeness of a great bird. Just below it, water poured from the rock, pooling slightly before draining into the ocean via two more, less impressive waterfalls. There had been nothing in the cave system to suggest where the water might have come from, but after getting so dirty in one day, Blue hardly cared what the water’s origin was.

Z, on the other hand, was much less enthused by the prospect of bathing and doing laundry. While Blue might have tolerated his view on meals, she wasn’t budging on this matter. The idea that she wash everything was ridiculous. Thankfully, cleaning their own clothes was an agreeable idea.

The bedding, however, was another matter. It used to be that Blue very rarely used the bed, generally when she got caught in some rain; as of late, however, they had been trading off who slept in it. She conceded to this fact, but determining who used it more was a hassle. Eventually, Blue decided that it would be quicker to wash the bedding herself this time around than continue arguing, though she also declared that it would be his turn next.

In the meantime, she asked Z to see about finding some young coconuts for them to have over dinner. This seemed to please him quite a lot. She was unsurprised when he returned with sprouted coconuts, too.

“So t’morrow we’re headin’ t’ the outpost?” Z asked, a piece of fish disappearing down his gullet in the next moment.

“If we can,” Blue said cautiously. “That is quite a distance to sail.”

“The waves work in our favour and the wind might be good—”

“Might be,” she emphasised. “Here to Plunder Outpost” — she hated that the two islands shared the same short-hand name — “is quite a distance. We would be better off setting our sights on Lost Gold Fort.”

Z raised his hand to gesture a point. Blue held hers up to silence him.

“Besides, there is also the event between there and the outpost.”

His expression turned thoughtful. “Fine, fine, y’re right. Might be trouble, too. Wouldn’t want t’ be too tired just in case.”

She nodded. “Precisely. It is most likely a shipwreck, but in the event that it is not…”

He nodded back.

*

The route they took was one they had gone through before. Blue found that thought rather strange, but these sorts of thoughts were becoming more and more common. She wasn’t sure what to make of that. There were worse people to have in her crew, she supposed; better ones, too, though.

Just as Z had said, the waves moved in the same direction as they did, giving them a fast, smooth ride. This meant that there was plenty of time to kill in the later part of the day.

From the top of Lost Gold Fort, she pondered over these thoughts. Just like all the other skeleton-inhabited islands, there was a rickety building on it, and it was a fantastic spot to sit and observe the horizon from. Here, Blue became fairly certain that it was a proper shipwreck in their way; a school of fish was unlikely to linger so long and attract the attention of the gulls, but then again, these were strange waters. A flotsam, perhaps? Any other ideas eluded her.

Rather than do anything at all, Z was napping on the bowsprit of the ship. She supposed that there wasn’t anything that needed to be done, but she still found it annoying. She did wonder if the smell of food cooking would be enough to rouse him…

As it turned out, it was. When Blue was nearing the end of the cooking process of a fresh fish, he was poking his nose downstairs to see what exactly she was up to.

“Good morning,” she teased.

Z made a playfully annoyed noise in response. “More fish?”

“Of the local variety,” she specified. She took an uncooked one out of the barrel to show him. “They are not islehoppers—”

“Ancientscales.”

“—Yes, those, thank you.” She put the fish away and poked at what was on the stove, nearly finished. Gathering plates and beginning to transfer food onto them, Blue continued: “To answer your question: not quite an hour.”

He gave her a look before understanding.

“And as for what is around us: nothing. I am, however, fairly certain that before us is a shipwreck.”

Deciding that he’d be more comfortable this way, Z sat at the foot of the bed. “What makes y’ say that?”

“I have seen the gulls diving down into the water. There is something very interesting to them there. Fish would not linger for so long, though. Do you disagree?”

He thought for a moment before shrugging and making an ‘ehh’ sort of noise.

Blue paused, sighed and refrained from striking him. “I do not know what—” she mimicked him “—means.”

“Not really.”

“That is not much better.”

He shrugged again and she scowled.

“Then what do you think it might be?”

“Y’ might be right, y’ might not be. We’ll see when we get there.”

She rose a brow. Was that the closest she was getting him to saying that he wasn’t sure? That was all she could figure out for his behaviour. Handing him his plate of fish and mango, she sat on the opposite side of the bed.

Dinner was eaten and then once more, as they usually did, they split apart and spent the rest of the evening on their own. While Blue made up her bed shortly after the sun had gone down, Z took his time getting to bed. Such was not unusual, nor was the difficulty in rousing him the next morning, but Blue was not willing to investigate the disturbance with him fast asleep. A light breakfast was shared between them — a single small ancientscale and a water coconut — before they got the ship moving.

The fantastic conditions of yesterday had soured only slightly and so they found themselves nearing the flock of seagulls in no time, Z reefing the sail to slow their approach. While she had been certain of a shipwreck here, it was instead a flotsam that they found; they exchanged curious glances. It was only when Blue leaned half of herself over the side of the ship that she spied the ship it belonged to, far too deep to be identified in any way or dive for.

With a harpoon, Z brought the first barrel aboard the ship. A bird was shooed away as he rolled it upright on the deck, fighting the lid off. It opened with a pleasant pop. The smell that emanated was far less so. His face scrunched up as he looked inside and promptly shook his head.

“Not worth.”

Judging by the look on his face, that was putting it mildly.

The lid was replaced before the barrel was thrown overboard to be claimed by the depths.

Upon bringing the second barrel aboard, Z declared, “This is good!” He withdrew a single wooden plank to emphasise his point.

Both Z and Blue worked to empty the barrel of all the planks it held. Rolling the barrel downstairs was an impossibility, what with the sloop’s standard barrel smaller to account for its narrow passageways, but with the outpost so close by, they kept it to sell as scrap.

Upon harpooning the final barrel and hefting it onto the deck, Z turned to her before he opened it.

“Whaddya think’s in this one?”

She almost shrugged; Blue wasn’t sure. So far they had pulled up some rotten food and planks, so…

“Ammunition?”

“Hope so.”

Then the lid was pried off. Much to both of their pleasures, Blue was right. She beamed slightly at that before realising just how much was in there.

“Uh—”

“Let’s just keep the barrel on the deck and sell some of it at the outpost…”

Blue dipped her chin in agreement. No way was the sloop’s barrels going to hold all of that, nor did it need to. So much shot would certainly slow the ship down, too.

“That is a good idea.”

“Yeah. Hm, this is fresh, though.”

She didn’t disagree, but… “Explain.”

“Like, ‘Where’s the other ship?’ fresh.”

“Perhaps they sank each other?”

“Nah, there’d be more if that happened.”

Blue was starting to think that he was disagreeing with what she said for the fun of it.

“What are you getting at?”

“It’s weird.” Z scratched at his chin, playing with the small beard he sported. “We should be careful comin’ int’ Plunder.”

That… seemed utterly ridiculous, but not so much so that Blue could muster up an argument. She wasn’t willing to make that risk, either.

“Very well.”

*

With the flotsam so close to Plunder Outpost, little more time was spent sailing. While Z managed the ship, Blue took her time exchanging her clothes for an outfit with a pleasant red colour just in case they had reasonable company at the outpost. She was still cautious, however, and made sure it was fully functional.

Eager to rid them of this wariness, Blue declared, “I am going to make sure that the tavern is empty of any troublemakers while you do that.”

Z looked away from the ropes he was tying. In the middle of the work, he simply grunted an acknowledgement and went back to securing the sail.

The walk up the dock was unremarkable. It was never in their favour to give away someone’s business so no shopkeeper offered Blue any words beyond a polite greeting and suggestion that she should look at their wares. Perhaps later.

The tavern, however, was a different matter. Aware that she was far from silent in her approach, Blue stopped before the threshold. It was a perfect point for an ambush, yet to expect one may also bode poorly for any first impressions she might be about to make.

With a deep breath, she stepped inside…

… and found the building empty of any patrons.

This had been a very silly thing to worry over, she decided. She lingered for a moment, greeting the tavernkeeper and letting her know that they would be in for dinner soon. Then she turned and made for the door.

A bit of roofing fell before her and her hand went to her sword’s pommel. A moment later, they dropped to the ground.

“Heya."

“How’s it been?”

She didn’t recognise one of them, though he looked like he belonged with his thin figure and wild hair, all clad in black, but the other…

“Rylund. What brings you here?”

“Uh.” A sheepish grin crossed his face. “Well, the ship we were chasin’ came here—”

“I see,” Blue interjected. That explained everything she needed to know, but…

“And your ship?”

“Mutually assured destruction,” his friend said.

“… ah.” Blue wasn’t sure whether or not she was glad her shot-in-the-dark idea had been correct. It explained where the flotsam came from, if only somewhat. Though…

“And Jackson?”

They both looked a little upset about that question. The one she didn’t know said, “He boarded ‘em, got their anchor down, but then a keg popped on ‘em close enough to hit us, too.”

That explained why there was so little wreckage.

“So this was your brigantine against a…?”

“Another brig. And brigs sink fast sooo…”

“Understandable.” Down a man and in the midst of a fight, it was no wonder they had sunk. To sink the other ship, too, was impressive.

“It sounds like you have had a rough go at it. In any case, I am acquaintances with your… crew. I go by Blue.” She held a hand out for him to take, which he did.

“Marcus, but my friends call me Mark.”

She wasn’t sure if that was an invitation or not.

“How about you two stay here and get the kitchen started on dinner?” she suggested. “I will tell Z that you two are here and help him finish docking the ship.”

The two looked excited to hear that their friend was around. They nodded in agreement and disappeared into the tavern. Blue was glad for that. As she made the walk back to the Forlorn Phoenix , she wondered just how many people there were in that group and if she had met any others by happenstance.

As she stepped onto the quarter-deck, Z gave her a look as he worked on another set of ropes. “So I was right, eh?”

“Yes, you were. I take it you knew that Rylund and Marcus would be here?”

He paused, looked dumbstruck and then shook his head. “Huh-uh. What brings ‘em here?”

“Their ship was part of the flotsam.”

“Oh.”

“Their chosen prey fought back with a little too much gunpowder. Jackson was slain in the fray.”

“Ah, I see.”

“I am sure they will tell you all about it over dinner.”

“Prob’ly.” He released the rope, finally done with it. Still, he looked uncertain about something…

“So they just stopped and said ‘hello’ t’ ya?”

“Not exactly.” Blue paused to consider how she had come face-to-face with them. “They… dropped in.”

Z crossed his arms, trying not to look amused. “I guess they’ll just hafta tell me over dinner?”

“I am sure they will answer all questions to your satisfaction.”

He chuckled. “Well, let’s go join ‘em then.”

Chapter 25: It's a Crowd

Summary:

Blue gets to know Z’s friends a little better before they inevitably split back up into two crews.

In the tavern, they sat at a round table with a dinner that Blue didn’t think was particularly incredible. The three men with her were plenty happy with it, tales of battles entertaining them far more than the meal did.

The ship that their guests had targeted was known to work for the Gold Hoarders. After discussing it, they hid their ship behind one of the massive rocks that jutted out of the water and swam to the island they predicted it to go. Their guess had been right and from there they were able to get a good look at its deck and saw it glittering.

While Jackson had stayed at the island to keep an eye on their prey and be ready to disable it, Rylund and Marcus had merfolk take them back to their own ship. When the time came, somehow Jackson’s role in all of it had gone wrong, hence his next boarding attempt being so overzealous and leading to the detonation of a gunpowder keg.

In a way, Blue thought this was all funny. The men laughed, too, but surely for different reasons.

“So we chased ‘em all the way over here,” Marcus had explained.

“They put up a good fight, though,” Rylund said with a nod, followed by him stuffing his mouth.

Surely a brigantine that was capable of running for multiple days was not worth the hassle. Things having gone so wrong only served to prove her point further, though Blue refrained from voicing these thoughts.

Besides that, the men caught up on what they had missed in each other’s absence. Rylund and Marcus were quite curious of how Z had spent his time — manning a brigantine with Jackson had been an amusing topic to them. How much time she and he had spent together seemed to surprise them.

“Wow, really?” Marcus had asked.

“Is there something wrong with that?” Blue was eager to know just what was going on in their heads.

“No, not at all,” Rylund said.

“We get on pretty good,” Z sternly stated.

Rylund countered, “Yeah, but normally you’re runnin’ with Jackson and maybe somebody else. Before then, you said ya ran with different crews all the time.”

“So I prefer the consistency. What of it?”

“Yeah, but…” Marcus seemed to debate voicing this thought. “But Blue, are you really that new to here?”

She made a face. He recoiled slightly.

“While others have mentors or learn through the trial and errors of violence, I avoided both. That is all there is to it.”

Rylund leaned forward. “But you talk and dress so well, you uh… Ya stick out like a sore thumb with us.”

Blue looked at him, certainly long enough to make him wonder how she would chastise him. Instead, she looked expectantly at Z.

“Wh-What?” he shot. “So what? Y’re good at sailin’ and fightin’ and thinkin’ — y’ fit in just fine far as I’m concerned!”

Blue looked from him to his friends and they looked at her.

“I am somehow both flattered and offended,” she said.

They laughed; Z gave an exasperated sigh.

“I do indeed, as you say, stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Y’ look just fine in trousers,” Z said. “An’ y’ ain’t gonna trip on ‘em neither.”

“It’s a bit more than that,” Rylund explained cautiously. “We’re all, like, uh —” he shrugged “— seasoned professionals.”

“Uh huh?” Z looked at the other with a raised brow. He gestured to Marcus. “Should I remind y’ how I found him and Jack t’gether? They’ve come a long way, and you with ‘em.”

“This is true,” Marcus chimed in.

“Forgive me for butting in,” Blue started; she was amused that Z was defending his stance of sticking around her, but… “It is not only that I do not look like I belong, but we have very different ideas of how to gather our riches.”

“Yeah! Yea, that’s what we’re gettin’ at,” Rylund said with a pointed finger. “A, uh, uh… a different…”

“Differing philosophies,” Blue said for him.

“Yeah, that!”

Z glanced at everyone at the table. “If we only ever worked with people we all shared the same exact ideas with, we’d’ve never gotten as far as we have when we sail t’gether. Now, enough’a whatever y’re tryin’ t’ get at.”

The two toothpicks looked at each other before nodding their understanding. Whatever they were trying to get at, Z wasn’t about it and they… respected that? Blue wasn’t quite sure if it was a case of them being polite or Z commanding that much obedience. She did get the feeling that his choice to mentor her wasn’t unique to her, though.

“My turn to ask a question,” Blue started, eager to change the subject; “How often is it that you lot sail together?”

“Mm, pretty often,” Rylund said as he glanced at everyone. “We sort of change out who’s out running about a lot depending on whose family needs them around. Or doesn’t. Y’know, time apart’s healthy and all that, that sort of thing.”

It still surprised her that they had families. Though, that shouldn’t have been so strange once she gave it a little more thought. All sorts of people existed — of course, some would be so like-minded that they would bond so deeply. Stranger bonds had happened before, too.

As the group spoke, Blue decided that they couldn’t have been so bad. They were able to get along with one another, get along with others well enough to form families with them — anyone who could manage that certainly had some redeeming features. That Z had argued in favour of her presence had left her uncertain of where exactly they stood. The men were certainly friends — more than that? The thoughts lingering about her mind were not ones she was happy to be considering.

Then someone said something ridiculous and she wasn’t sure that she had heard right.

“Wait, say again?”

“Well, we’re stranded here without a ship, right?”

Blue took a deep breath in.

“We just wanna go to Thieves’ Haven.”

Why there, what could have potentially been there, Blue wanted to ask. She refrained when she recalled the original destination that Z had given her so long ago. Redeeming features or not, this was a lot that was never up to any good.

“I suppose that distance is a tolerable one,” she said, poking at a piece of food on her plate. “Four people on a single sloop will be a miserable experience.”

The men had a chuckle.

“I think we’ll live,” Z said.

Blue agreed with a strained, “We will manage.”

*

Everyone got some sleep that night. How much exactly, Blue didn’t know; she had turned in to her spot on the sloop’s canopy just after sunset and slept through the night. The men, however, were not up at a decent hour. She wasn’t surprised. What was surprising was finding the lot of them strewn about the rooftops. The two interlopers had draped themselves atop the tavern; it took her a while to find Z, spotting his pegleg hanging off the top of the water tower.

Blue decided against both waking them and asking any questions as neither would lead to anything good. Instead, she spent some time that morning entertaining herself, filling out the ship’s log. How exciting the last two days had been.

Later in the morning, when she became more restless, Blue relocated to the tavern. She had herself a late kitchen-cooked breakfast while she waited still and had been finished with it for a short while when Rylund came through the doorway, followed by Marcus a moment later, and then Z. They all looked a little dishevelled but Z especially so.

“Good morning, you lot,” she greeted, looking them up and down. They gave small responses as they sat down. “Had a rough night?”

Z looked unenthused by her interrogation. The other two seemed to get a kick out of it.

“Well, the time got away from us and the house grog isn’t too bad,” Marcus explained.

“Uh huh,” she replied with a side-eyed glance. “And would you three like to eat something so we can get our day started?”

The two gave her a loud confirmation while Z simply got up to grab food for the three of them, almost before they had even responded. She wasn’t sure of what to make of that — a sort of familiarity? Mere impatience? Whatever the case was, Blue didn’t bother her shipmate about his mood and instead made pleasant conversation with their guests while the three of them ate.

After breakfast, everyone made sure they were not needing anything before departing the outpost. Being friendly enough with the Company, Blue haggled with the Merchant Alliance representative at the dock to sell what they needed to get rid of, primarily all the ammunition they had pulled out of the water. Z got himself a new pair of gloves that didn’t look as though they were about to fall apart; his friends bought themselves nothing after inspecting the supplies carried aboard the sloop. Though there was quite a lot there and she said nothing of it, that hadn’t sat quite right with Blue.

It was mid-day when they finally left the outpost and Blue decided that her place for the day would be at the helm, up on the quarter-deck away from them. They would be at Thieves’ Haven until at least the next morning and she resented them slightly for that, but spending a good portion of time asleep would help pass the time. Then again, she got the feeling they would keep her up late into the night — or at least try to — and she became more certain of this as the day went on and their energy levels stayed high.

Or at least, Marcus’ did. From her observations, Z got along with both men, both of them got along with him and each other, but Marcus and Z got on together best. While all three of them chatted throughout the day, it was Marcus who spoke the most. Anytime someone brought up something that reminded him of something else, he made a big deal out of recalling the story. Blue couldn’t tell if he was peacocking about or not and his consistency had her unnerved.

Apparently, events like the one that had taken them to Plunder Outpost were not terribly uncommon. A story was told of how a four-strong group of them had abandoned their galleon and commandeered a brigantine reminded her of how Z and Jackson had ended up at Golden Sands Outpost on a different brigantine to the one she had seen them take off on. Near here, so long ago it seemed, Z had abandoned his sloop to exchange a chest for gold and then bother her.

Willingly losing ships, it seemed, was a running theme among this group.

“Do none of you have ships to call your own?” she blurted out.

Everyone paused to look at her, then each other, and then back to her.

“Uh, no, not really,” Marcus responded sheepishly. “We’re, uh…”

“We’re aggressive think’s the answer y’re lookin’ fer,” Z said.

“Yeah, that.”

Blue stood there at the helm and stared at them in disbelief. With the way some sailors spoke of their ships, it seemed crazy that none of them, absolutely no one, had a ship that they held dear to their heart. Blue was certain that had been a common theme among sailors, especially when she realised some time ago that the sloop that had been forced upon her had grown on her.

“We don’t really need ships. A rowboat works, or swimmin’, or somebody else’s ship,” Z added.

… and yet, how very resourceful and callous that simultaneously was.

“I see your point…”

“But y’ don’t agree with it.”

Blue adjusted her grip on the wheel. “I… am not sure what I think about it.”

That seemed to surprise him. With how often they were at odds with each other, she wasn’t sure what to make of this situation, either. His words made sense, but to have no sentiments, or at least none strong enough to make them work to salvage a ship… it was an alien thought to her. Perhaps her understanding of pirates was not as thorough as she had believed. That, or the breed of pirate on these waters was made of a very different tack.

The rest of the time they spent sailing was just a little quieter. It seemed that no one was quite sure what to make of the subject change that Blue had brought up. Their fleeting attention made a new subject change easy. They also asked about the flotsam that she and Z had investigated; she explained how little there was to it and that she had been able to just barely spot the shadow of a ship too deep in the water to dive down to. The two of them seemed to get a kick out of that for some reason.

When they arrived at Thieves’ Haven, the sun was touching the horizon, casting long shadows along the island. As Blue recalled the discussion she and Z had when they visited this place together about where to stop the ship, she wasn’t entirely sure of what to do. Figuring they would be of his opinion, she decided to bring the sloop around the west side, stopping it against the southern entrance into the vast cavern the island made up. No one commented on it so she decided it must have been a good spot.

“Why did you want to come here?” Blue asked when there was a lull in the talking.

“It’s a good spot,” Rylund said with a certain degree of casualness that unnerved her.

“This place is close enough to Plunder that I figured you guys wouldn’t mind taking us here,” Marcus explained more thoroughly.

Blue couldn’t believe what she was about to say, but… “Could you not simply wait at the outpost for another ship to come by? In fact, would that not have been preferable ?”

“Maybe, but we’re not about waiting around.”

While her idea seemed a better option for men in their line of work, she could also believe that they were too impatient to stay in one place for very long. Then again, these men apparently had families… Well, that just raised some questions.

While she tied the sail ropes tight for the night, the other three disembarked from the sloop and started inland. Rylund paused to look back at her.

“You comin’ with?”

“What for?”

“Well, we’re gonna go look around the island, make sure it’s clear of any nasties, and then… I dunno, hang out?”

Done with that rope, Blue leaned against the railing. “Well, I am quite tired. Go on without me.”

“Well, all right.” He paused. “You sure about that? We won’t be bothering—”

“You will not bother me as long as you are not so boisterous around the ship. If you get thirsty, there is rum downstairs in the clothing chest.”

“ Oh .” That got his attention. Something seemed to cross his mind. “Uh, your clothing chest? You su—”

“It is there because it is the safest place for it,” she said casually, holding a hand up to silence him. “Take it if you want, it makes no difference to me,” she said purely to be polite. “And before you ask: I sleep up here on the canopy because I like to.”

“Oh. All right then.” He hesitated to leave.

“… do you want me to get the rum for you?”

“Yes, please, ma’am.”

She really should have seen that coming. Blue nodded to him and made her way downstairs, fished for it and gathered the crate up in her arms. When she came back topside, Rylund was patiently waiting beside the helm; the other two had disappeared deep into the island’s jungle. The rum exchanged hands.

“I should be good to jump off here with this, right? It’s not that far’a drop…”

“You should be good to make that one drop,” Blue said with as much confidence as she could muster. A bottle or two might crack, perhaps even break, but…

He made the small jump to the island.

… thankfully, none did.

Blue watched as Rylund walked away from the ship with his new goods, a little bounce in his step. She hoped for the sake of the bottles that it didn’t increase as he went through the island. Hopefully, the drink would keep them all plenty occupied.

Finally alone, Blue made her way to the desk. While all day had been spent chatting, the stories hadn’t given her any meaningful new knowledge of the Sea of Thieves or told her anything significant about any of the men. There was really very little to make note of, and the most amusing moment — and by proxy the most interesting — of the day had just happened. She didn’t have to write much before she exhausted all of her thoughts and satisfactorily detailed out the day.

With that taken care of, Blue set about retiring for the night. She changed her clothes, grabbed a favoured blanket, and settled down on the canopy of the Forlorn Phoenix . She lay there for a small while, contemplating just what the three men might have been doing on the island. It didn’t seem to her that there was anything worth celebrating, perhaps each other’s presence she supposed, but they didn’t seem that close to each other… Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps not. The thought lingered in her mind as she drifted off to sleep.

*

While everyone had gotten some sleep the night before, Blue was starting to think that she was the only one who had gotten a decent amount last night. When she decided it was time to get up, she spotted the three of them sitting about the main-deck and looking quite excited to see her rousing.

Getting breakfast started was a little different than usual, requiring double the amount of fish. That she did this at all seemed to catch their guests off guard, though they were quite happy to let her be when she insisted that she could manage the fish and bait alike.

Three small ancientscales were pulled from the water. On the fourth cast, a particularly large one took the bait and Blue found herself almost cutting the line out of frustration. In the time it would take to tire this one out, she could have caught another one, two, perhaps even three little ones. Rylund and Marcus cheered her on from the main-deck, however, and she found it in herself to pull it from the water. Considering their excitement, Blue didn’t doubt that they’d be able to eat it anyway, especially when they let slip that they hadn’t eaten last night. In the same breath, they stated that they had gotten some sleep, at least until the rising sun’s light woke them.

As enthused as they had been about breakfast, they were less energetic than they had been yesterday, more soft-spoken, and that made her wonder…

“Did the three of you finish off that crate of rum last night?”

They all looked between each other and her. Z’s expression was easy to read but it was Marcus who spoke.

“Nnoooo…?”

She sighed, just a little disappointed, though also slightly amused. And while she had their attention…

“And did all of you get a good amount of sleep?”

“Define a good amount’a sleep,” Z said with some degree of defensiveness.

Blue gave him a knowing look from the quarter-deck. “I will take that to mean you got some sleep.” It was almost a question, though one that she knew he wouldn’t answer.

“I wish I’d’ve gotten more. This headache is awful ,” Rylund complained.

She made a mental note to serve them water coconuts and tea with breakfast.

They — mostly the guys — spent a little while longer talking about nothing in particular, merely enjoying each other’s presence and a hearty meal. Jackson’s untimely demise was lamented once more; Blue wondered how much time would pass before he met up with any of his family or the crew, and so did they.

“I suppose it is very unlikely that he will be finding any of you here,” she said, hoping that statement and the mid-day sun would prompt them into leaving.

Rylund agreed, getting the hint and saying, “Yeah, we should be getting outta your guys’ hair.”

Marcus nodded. “Yeah. And we really appreciate you guys bringing us out here.”

Something about his tone sounded off. Blue leaned forward. “… but?”

“But, uh, can we have the rowboat?”

Blue stared at him for a moment. Her kneejerk reaction was to say no but after so many comments of how useful rowboats could be… She looked at Z and he shrugged.

“I suppose we can spare it. You two need it more than we do, anyway.”

“Thanks!” he said with a small laugh.

“Some food as well?”

That got a grin out of the two. “We’d appreciate it.”

Blue nodded. “Go pick out what you want.”

Rylund and Marcus both gave their thanks before making their way downstairs. Once again that was something that they would need more for themselves. Blue couldn’t quite fathom travelling a far distance in a rowboat, and they… well, it seemed that they would be on one for the foreseeable future. For their sake, she hoped that they had a destination in plan.

While their two guests were downstairs, she and Z both expectantly looked at each other. She didn’t have anything to outright say at that moment, and it seemed that neither did he. She looked forward to politely getting rid of their company and wondered if the same went for him.

Hearing them ascend the stairs, Blue went and met the two on the mid-deck; Z followed a moment later. Rylund and Marcus were finishing up by shoving a mixture of good fruits and fish into their pockets.

“We really appreciate this,” Rylund reiterated.

“It is no problem,” Blue said. “We are well stocked and can spare it.”

“‘Sides, we can’t have the two’a you hangin’ ‘round forever,” Z added. That got a snicker out of them.

Rylund and Z took each other’s forearms into their grasp to say their goodbyes; Blue didn’t notice Marcus next to her until she was being held. Shocked, she didn’t get an opportunity to return the hug — not that she would have — and was placed back down, somewhat uneasy on her feet, though not so much that she didn’t notice the stupid grin on Z’s face. While she recovered, Z stepped away, trying to avoid the same treatment and failing. She and Rylund just looked at them with some amusement.

“All right, that’s enough’a that,” Z said, lacking some amount of dignity.

Marcus laughed as he stepped away, the other joining him. “We’ll get outta here now.”

Pleasant nods and spoken goodbyes were exchanged as the two of them climbed into the little rowboat. They looked ridiculous, Blue decided, and that using a rowboat for an extended period of time was doubly so. She said none of these things — what could even be said that wouldn’t involve them staying aboard? — as they started rowing away and watched as they disappeared behind the island.

“Well, that was interesting,” Blue said after a long moment. Z gave her an amused look that she ignored. “Shall we leave as well?”

To that he nodded. She stepped past him and went back up to the quarter-deck to do just that.

*

From Thieves’ Haven, they sailed east. As they had departed late in the day and had no specific destination in mind, they stopped at the first island they reached: Mutineer Rock, a tiny little island. Besides, Z wasn’t totally alert and that clued her in to the idea that he could use a full night’s rest.

With dinner on the mind, Blue finally got a look at their food situation after offering to have it pilfered. As she already knew, their guests had taken some of the best and freshest items for themselves, but it was manageable. She wasn’t surprised that they had left the water coconuts but appreciated it nonetheless. With that knowledge, she set about catching some fresh fish.

While she did that at the mid-deck, Z had moved onto the quarter-deck where she later joined him. A plate was handed off to him and they sat on the edge of the canopy as they so often did. It wasn’t long until he shifted and she knew the silence was about to end.

“So what’d ya think of ‘em?”

Blue refrained from sighing as hard as she wanted to. “They are… excitable. Nosy and presumptuous, but they are polite enough, even if that requires some… finessing.”

He took on a thoughtful expression for a moment. “That’s fair, I guess.”

“Is there something specific I was supposed to think?”

“Jus’ wonderin’. I sail with ‘em a lot and y’re uh… well, they ain’t wrong ‘bout you bein’ a bit diff’rent t’ them.”

Blue couldn’t help a whisper of a smirk. “What, having second thoughts about sailing with me now?”

His expression mirrored hers. “Y’re not gettin’ rid’a me that easily.”

Notes:

This is another update that’s included some tag updates. Some… weird ones… admittedly. SoT’s kind of weird. Things start getting a tad more interesting next update.

Chapter 26: A Chance Opportunity

Summary:

A storm has proven annoying to Z and Blue once more, but that’s not the most interesting thing happening at Ancient Spire Outpost.

The air was heavy and damp when Z awoke. A moment later and he realised that the dull drumming was the sound of a mild rainfall, the roll of thunder distant. He wondered which had woken Blue. After securing his pegleg, he got to his feet to check on her. Right away he found her sitting at the desk, busy with a book.

“Guess we’re not goin’ anywhere t’day.”

Blue shook her head. “No. At least it seems only the edge of the storm will be passing over us.”

Z made a small noise of acknowledgement as he stepped around her, looking out at the storm beyond the half-walls of the aft. He sat on the map table and took in the scene.

“It’s not so bad, really. We could sail in this.”

“And if the wind shifts and brings the more savage parts of the storm to us?”

“Hmm. Well, when’d it last change?”

Blue sighed. “Some point before I got up.”

“So we’ll wait ‘til it does again and see about it then.”

That had been more of a statement than a mere suggestion but Blue seemed tolerant of it. He had no doubt that he would be the one in charge of getting them from Point A to Point B since it was his idea, but that was fine, too, since Blue still looked tired. With a bit more thought, Z realised that probably had something to do with the two days spent around his friends. Blue was… not social, he had come to understand, even if she was good at pretending she was.

When it was late enough in the day that he finally felt the slightest twinge of pain in his stomach — probably hunger — he noticed the wind had changed directions. The darker, angrier part of the storm was over to their southwest and the wind blew in from the southeast.

“I guess we can get goin’,” Z said after sharing his observations.

Blue hadn’t seemed crazy about the idea of going somewhere, but neither did she argue with him. His voicing of an offer to take care of their travels definitely helped that.

With the wind the way that it was, they were able to quickly make their way to The Crow’s Nest Fortress. He doubted that Blue was over her dislike of forts, he could even imagine her writing all about that while they had sailed over, but staying there was better than open water or continuing to idly sit at that nothing-island. Besides, they could ransack the fort for good supplies after having given some to his friends. He voiced this idea and Blue found it agreeable so they got their feet on the sand and went through all the barrels they could find, taking anything good. They spent most of the evening doing this before they had a small dinner and went to bed.

Sometime in the middle of the night, roaring thunder woke Z. Whereas the morning rain had been a light drizzle, it was now a downpour. The air was nippy, making the warm bed all the more comfortable. That made him wonder…

Forcing himself out of bed, Z made for upstairs. He only got to the mid-deck before finding Blue sat against the wall next to the bookcase. The sight of her with a damp blanket across her legs was something else, but at least she didn’t look entirely like a drowned rat.

“How do you sleep like this?”

He grinned and shook his head, unable to help a chuckle. “Why don’t y’ go get some sleep?” he suggested, motioning back to the bed.

Blue stared at him for a long moment, misery crossing her face. Without a word, she got to her feet and made her way past him, dragging the blanket behind her. It was a struggle to keep from laughing at the poor thing.

In the time that she slept, Z sat at the desk, leaned back with his feet on the edge of the table as he dozed. Some hours would pass before Blue was finally back up, waking him with a gentle shake of the shoulder. The rain, however, had not let up. They split a reheated splashtail before anyone said anything.

“We are not going anywhere.”

“Nope,” he said with a smirk. “‘Sides, I think I can see a gally over at Devil’s Ridge.”

“You think?”

“Mhmm. Hard t’ see through all the rain and I ain’t about t’ go up int’ the crow’s nest t’ check.”

She stared at him for a moment. “That is fair.”

“Can’t see Ancient Spire through the rocks, but I bet there’s a ship or two hidin’ from the storm there, too.”

She nodded.

“So, we jus’ gonna sit here ‘til the storm passes?”

Blue rolled her eyes. “I do not see any point in moving… The storm is over us anyhow — continuing our route would lengthen the amount of time we spend in it.”

“So we’re gonna head out soon as it’s clear? An’ hope everybody at Ancient Spire’s gonna be friendly?”

“I see no reason why not.”

He made a noise of disagreement but didn’t openly fight the matter. Blue was good at getting on people’s good side and a tavern offered many appealing amenities after a storm.

*

With Blue unable to sleep in her usual spot due to the rain, she was curled up in the bed. His bed? He supposed that it was, at least in a way. Z was sat at the desk once more, having spent most of the day there, dozing as often as he could while they waited for the storm to pass. It was late into the night when it finally did, and with it the wind had shifted to take it more north than east. With only a drizzle to contend with and Blue’s ability to sleep through travel, he decided it was a grand idea to get the ship moving for Ancient Spire Outpost.

Not too long after starting out, Z was able to confirm that yes, he had just barely spotted the silhouette of a galleon at Devil’s Ridge, likely waiting out the storm. It was not close enough that he could make out any identifying features of it, nor did it fly a flag he knew. He simply made a mental note of its existence as he watched it head west, uninterested in them.

Now that the storm was mostly past them, he decided that yes, a warm tavern and a meal of something other than fish sounded very good. He had initially expected that only Blue would appreciate it, but as they neared the outpost, he found himself yearning for those things. A storm didn’t make him as miserable as she, he even had a history of using them to occasionally get a job done, and of course, he didn’t need these things… but damn if they didn’t sound good.

As expected, Blue was up with the sun. Though they weren’t quite at the outpost yet, she was well-dressed in red and gold, ready to spend the day off the ship and in the company of others. Breakfast was something that neither of them brought up, each of them having decided on their own that something from the tavern’s kitchen would be nicer.

There came the time when they were rounding the island on the southern side and all stopped ships came into view. While he was trying to decide where they could squeeze the sloop in, Z realised that his shipmate had been staring at him. He finally looked back and her stare wavered momentarily before her expression changed into what he assumed was disapproval before turning away entirely.

With a sigh, he asked, “What is it now?”

“You look ridiculous,” she answered without looking.

“Wha, how ?”

“Your hair is getting too long and your face is unshaven. It is just like the last time we visited an outpost after a storm.”

She wasn’t wrong; these things had started to bother him. That didn’t change the fact that her annoyance with his appearance was annoying to him.

“Fine, I’ll clean up before we get off the ship.”

“That is not necessary.”

“Wha—” He nearly ripped the rope apart as he pulled the sail up. “What’s the point’a yer complainin’ then?!”

She turned to look at him before shrugging. “You asked.”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” he muttered.

With the ship moving slowly, he took a moment to nip downstairs and brush his hair back; that was much better. His beard was a bit long and scraggly but it wasn’t enough to bother him personally — in fact, if he was more patient with it, he could potentially grow a good-looking full-faced beard. Now was not the time for that, though.

Pleased with his little bit of grooming, not that he had looked bad before it, Z returned topside. Blue had both taken his place at the helm and charge of getting them situated at the outpost. He spotted some pirates high up just outside the tavern, a few down low where the shops were, though none seemed to care that they were coming to join the gathering. That somewhat eased the concern he felt. Any other pirates at an outpost were too many but he couldn’t deny that this was a good opportunity to socialise, maybe pick a pocket or two or have a good old-fashioned brawl — who knew?

Right now, Z was just glad that Blue decided to take them between the docks. The main dock would have been crowded with one galleon at it — today, there were two. At the other dock sat a sloop; near it, a brigantine was positioned in such a way that it looked like it was being used by the sloop crew to get onto the island. It was that sloop that they slid theirs beside. Ancient Spire Outpost may have been roomy enough for this many pirates to visit at once, but situating their ships was less than convenient.

As they were using the alternative dock, that meant they had quite the walk to get up to the tavern. That was fine by Z, but Blue… Well, he thought that she might have a problem with that, but as he watched her use a set of ropes to pull the Forlorn Phoenix’s stern against the other sloop’s and the dock, he reminded himself that the dress was just a pretty little lie. No matter how well she was dressed, there was no pretending that all that time spent alone hadn’t made her quite the rugged sailor.

They disembarked and started on the path upwards. Halfway there and he couldn’t help himself.

“So what’s yer plan for t’day?”

“Surely someone here is a decent conversationalist.”

She replied a little too quickly for his liking and that made him raise a brow, if also slightly amused him. “Really? All these people here an’ y’re thinkin’ ‘bout talkin’?”

“Among other things,” she admitted. They took a few more steps before she added, “I had planned to spend the day with other company.”

“Glad we’re on the same page. Bit’a time apart’s a good thing, I hear.”

Blue gave him a look and he barely resisted laughing. “Time apart is a very good thing,” she said.

He couldn’t help the snicker.

“If all goes well tonight, you will have the sloop to yourself, too.”

“Oh?”

“I plan to keep busy both today and tonight. There are quite a few ships here, aye? Meaning there are lots of people here. Surely I will find something that catches my interest.”

“All right. I guess. I don’t—”

“Don’t worry about it, hmm?”

They walked in silence across the bridge while he considered her words. She wasn’t the most clear with her words, but Z decided that was fine if they were getting some time to themselves. She always slept on the canvas, though, so where…

Huh .

He stopped to consider that thought. In this context, time apart meant time with other people. He decided that was a good idea — maybe she would be less of a hard ass for a while if someone gave her some attention. He stayed where he was, just past the bridge, and watched as Blue disappeared around the corner of the tavern. A moment later and he started in the same direction.

Just outside the tavern door were the pirates he had spotted from below, a pair of ladies with tankards in hand. They sat around a small campfire, the pan of which held half a chicken. The one with neutral green and blue clothing sat on a stool while the other of a drabby short blue dress sat in the grass beside a grog keg. They looked like they could have been sisters but not quite.

“Hey, come sit with us! Your crewmate didn’t want nothin’ t’ do with us and we got all this drinkin’ t’ do!”

He paused at the sight of them, unable to help a grin. It struck him that they probably weren’t the smartest of pirates, drinking themselves silly when there were other crews around. He was hungry, though, and finding some decent company right off the rip was nice.

“Ah, yeah, my soon-t’-be-sister-in-law’s kind’a — well, yeah,” he said as he sat himself on the empty stool.

“Ooh, your sister-in-law?” the other asked.

“Soon-to-be,” the first one reiterated to her… friend?

Z chuckled. “We’re gettin’ ‘cross the Sea of Thieves back t’ family’s all,” he explained, seeing in their faces that they totally bought the idea. They were probably too drunk to think very hard. “Anyways, we got caught in that storm. You guys, too?”

They both nodded.

“Any idea ‘bout the others here?”

“Them, too. Carlene, by the way,” the first one said as she extended a hand to him.

“My friends call me Z,” he responded. When he looked over at the one sat in the grass, she lurched upright.

“An’ I’m Shanna!”

“Pleased t’ meet ya.”

While he noticed the twinges of curiosity, neither of them made a comment about his name and that made continuing the conversation with them all the easier. He spent a time with them, sharing their meal and learning that every single one of the crew had taken shelter from the storm here at Ancient Spire. Apparently no one had caused any trouble.

Z wondered if they would be the ones to change that.

When his stomach bothered him again, they only let him leave if he promised to come back with food for them, too. They were good enough company and they were getting a kick out of his stories of glory and stealth so he didn’t mind such a demand. Shanna had promised to tell a story of her own, too, but he was doubting that she would stay sober enough long enough for that.

The first half of the day was spent with that pair of pirates before the drinking got to them. Z had paced himself so much better than they did. Shanna had struggled to stay alert throughout much of the later afternoon conversations and eventually could struggle no more. Her shipmate decided it was in both of their interests to get some rest aboard their sloop. He let them go and moved across the island.

The twin peaks of Ancient Spire Outpost were close in height, but unlike the one that housed the tavern, the secondary peak had a rocky top. As much as he didn’t care for climbing, Z did just that and sat on the highest rock, taking in the view. That was worth it.

To the west-by-northwest was the rock cluster that had been a blessing and a curse to many a pirate, but unless they were using those structures to hide, there were no ships to be spotted anywhere on the horizon. Just as expected, the storm had brought all nearby crews together for the moment, sans the one galleon.

Satisfied that there would be no unexpected company, Z spent some time sitting there, soaking in the sun when it peeked through the clouds. No one bothered him and he was glad to be able to sober up in peace. He did note an occasional rowdiness from the tavern, but none of it sounded like something to be concerned over.

When the sun was low in the sky and he realised that had happened because he had dozed off, dinner struck him as a good idea. He wasn’t as stingy about eating regularly like Blue was, but getting a nice meal from a good kitchen was irresistible.

The tavern wasn’t crowded crowded, but there were still more people in it than he preferred, and yet, there somehow wasn’t enough. He didn’t see the sloop ladies and thus assumed that they were still aboard their ship, but that meant there still could have been a dozen bodies here in total. Blue and at least three others were missing and he wasn’t sure of what to make of that when it seemed certain that a trio was the brigantine crew, what with the way they sat and drank together.

It wasn’t his business, he decided.

While he stood at the counter and waited for his dinner plate, a short pirate with impossibly wide shoulders approached him. The way he carried himself, Z didn’t get the feeling that the man was looking for a pleasant talk.

“You that Blue’s crewmate?”

He quirked an eyebrow at the question. “Uh huh.”

“Well, then I got a bone t’ pick with you.”

Normally, Z wasn’t against a tavern brawl — a classic, really — but right now he just wanted to eat. That, and… “Why’s that?”

“My boy over there” — he gestured to another who looked much younger and in fact like he could have been the man’s child — “can’t find his purse. He had it this mornin’ before you and your girl showed up.”

Yep, they had disrupted the peace.

“What’s that got t’ do with me? If y’ think she stole it, go bother her ‘bout it.”

Now there was a fist gripping his shirt. It was almost comical in a way how the other man had to pull him down to manage a threat. Still, Z wasn’t especially interested in this situation and heads were starting to turn in their direction.

“Look, y’ got about three seconds t’ let go’a me before I make you.”

“Oh, yeah? What’re you gonna do?”

He silently counted the seconds and when time was up, Z brought his off-hand up in a quick swing, knocking the other back and down with a satisfying crunch. His forearm had connected with the other’s jaw and that hadn’t been optimal, but it had sufficed. By the time the man whipped back around in a fury, Z’s blunderbuss was in his hands and readied.

“I ain’t about this. I jus’ want somethin’ t’ eat. Like I said, you got a problem with my crewmate, you go bother her yerself.”

The man looked up between him and his gun before scowling, shaking his head and shifting away from Z. “Ah, you ain’t worth the trouble.”

No, no he was not. Z knew this very well.

As gold had already been exchanged between him and the barkeep, a plate of food exchanged hands without a word and he took it outside to the campfire, sat partially facing the tavern door to make sure no more trouble ambled up to him. He also considered what he was going to say to Blue when he found her later, a curiosity burning in his belly.

He took a moment to rest and consider things further after he was done eating before returning to the docks. Aboard the other sloop, Carlene had fallen asleep on the quarter-deck and he spotted Shanna curled up behind the map table. When he investigated the Forlorn Phoenix , he found her empty and that left him more curious. She had said she planned to spend the day and night in the company of others, but he had some choice words for Blue right now.

Deciding he needed something else to do, Z returned to the tavern. Who knew? Maybe he had missed her in a corner. He got a few looks when he strode in but no one openly argued his presence. In fact, the brigantine crew called him over. Weatherly was the woman’s name and her two male companions were Dominik and Nyack. They had been impressed with the near-fight earlier as his adversary had been acting as something of a bully towards everyone. Apparently, this made Z worth drinking with. He didn’t mind, not when the gold that procured drink wasn’t his. They proved to be decent company, too, appreciating his stealthier stories and coming back with their own.

When the sun had long since dipped below the horizon, the brig crew could no longer stand to be awake. That sounded like a good idea and so Z was happy to part ways with them, heading back down to the docks while they sobered up some before making the trek. The women of the other sloop evaded his eye as he passed their ship. He found no evidence of his own sloop having been messed with before boarding it and that was all he cared about.

Somewhat alarmingly, though, he found Blue sat in the middle of the bed with her back against the wall, one leg stretched out so her bare foot hung off the edge. She was already dressed in her nighttime outfit and that raised some questions, though none he cared enough about to ask. They looked at each other for a long moment before he decided that he really didn’t care what was going on now, nor about the trouble she had caused for him earlier.

“I thought you slept on the canvas?” he asked as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“I do.”

“Then move, I’m tired.”

When she only continued to stare at him, seeming slightly bewildered, he pushed her leg aside before laying down and getting comfortable. She made some sort of undignified noise that he ignored, even when she readjusted her leg to stretch it over his.

“Long day, I take it?” he asked with some amusement.

When she looked away and damn near growled, he paused. He’d just gotten an arm under his head and he gave her a look, curious now. He wasn’t quite sure what expression that was he saw on her face. In fact, when he studied her posture some more, he got the feeling that, yes, she was agitated, but not at him. More information was needed, but he hesitated so she spoke first.

“That’s putting it mildly.” She hardly ever put words together like that so that caught his attention. “Not that I think you would be interested in how my day has gone. I spent all day talking to those crews and all I got out of it was a single purse and a map.”

He couldn’t help a chuckle — so that pirate’s kid had been pick-pocketed. “Y’ can’t seriously tell me nobody had any good stories for ya.”

“Absolutely none. Oh, plenty of them wanted my ear for this or that, but I have heard them all before, the same tale with this or that little twist. They are all terrible storytellers. They’re all the same, anyway: they work for the Gold Hoarders or they sometimes pick up bounties from the Order of Souls when they’ve grown bored of digging in the sand — it is nothing interesting. There were no grand stories of monsters slain, no run-ins with the pirates of legends — nothing. No trinkets of yore in that cabin, just more of the same. One had the gall to insist that some pirates distantly related to him had vanquished a Skeleton Lord recently.”

Blue’s focus rested upon him. Again, he couldn’t quite figure out what that expression was… Exhaustion? She was tired for sure, but there was something there that hadn’t been satiated. One question remained, however.

“And the map?” he asked.

She looked away and… pouted? “That damned map!”

Z recoiled at her viciousness, then again when she kicked his leg with her other leg.

“He was so damned proud of it, too! Spent days and days with his crew doing this and that just for it. Idiots. And then he had the gall to fall asleep on me!”

Z would have wondered if she meant that literally, but his focus was the map. Days and days… this and that? “Wait, hold up.” He sat up on his elbows and she flinched. It looked like there was something to be said that sat on the tip of her tongue but his was far more important. “This and that — do y’ mean like, stuff for the Gold Hoarders and the other Companies? The Merchant Alliance and the Order?”

Blue still had that weird frustration upon her countenance, but thankfully she pushed through it and nodded. “Something like that.”

“How many?”

“Wh—” She gave him an incredulous look. “I-I don’t know, six? Eight?”

Now he sat up. No way. His heart pounding, Z’s hand were on her upper arms. “Was it eight?”

The intensity with which she stared back at him mirrored his own. Knowing her the way he did, he expected her to fight him on this and by whatever gods there might have been, he was going to thrash her if she did. His gut told him that the look on her face was about something else, but…

“Two digs, two riddles, two cargo runs, two bounties? Eight total? Is that right?” he asked.

“That… rings a bell, yes. Yes, eight sounds correct.” She looked away again, making a face. “But the map they got after was for only one item.”

“Holy shit, really?”

She recoiled, looking at him in shock. Her voice had been unsteady, but now he realised that he was probably to blame for that and was probably hurting her, too.

“Sorry, but—” They exchanged glances when he released her and he got the feeling that he had done neither. “All right,” Z said in a stern tone, taking a deep breath. “They did eight voyages an’ then had another map pop int’ their pockets after?”

She nodded.

“A map with jus’ one X?”

Reaching into her jacket, she produced a folded paper and handed it to him. His heart skipped a beat when he opened it.

“Cinder Islet.”

“Mhmm,” Blue responded with a bored tone. “He said they had been in the Devil’s Roar and crossed the channel so they could rest somewhere nice before finishing their voyage. Another galleon was already at Devil’s Ridge so they came here and got caught in the storm.”

“The Roar.” Z must have looked and sounded like an idiot for how simple he was being right now, but he couldn’t believe their luck. “We gotta go.”

“What?”

“Now.”

“Right now?” she asked.

He slid a hand underneath her knee and swung his legs out from under hers. Less indignant than before, he ignored the squeak that got from her.

“They’re gonna be pissed when they realise this is missin’. We gotta go, right now .”

“Right— what?” Somehow Blue seemed more aggravated now than before.

“I’ll get us goin’; you get dressed.”

She made some more noises as though she wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words. Ignoring her, Z made his way to the helm to get them started for the Devil’s Roar.

Chapter 27: A Story to Tell

Summary:

Z knows exactly what they’re going after and how unique their situation is. The extreme nature of it is not lost on him, though he’s aware Blue has no idea what’s going on despite her still sour mood.

Sailing from Ancient Spire Outpost to Cinder Islet was not the most difficult course they could have been challenged with. In fact, with the positioning of the island, they only had to skirt around the edge of The Devil’s Roar, bypassing most volcanoes. The wind was fine — a little lacklustre — and the waves refrained from fighting the sloop’s momentum very much. More speed would have been nice, but they made do without complaint. This trip was an easy one. The only difficulty they had was a shared anxiety over whether or not they would be spotted before they disappeared into the horizon. Thankfully, no galleon was spotted pursuing them.

Throughout their travel, Z emanated a calmness that he was anything but. Knowing what lie before them caused an excitement to flow through him that he couldn’t afford to act upon, restraining himself and staying focused. Blue, on the other hand, was rather impatient with him. Whatever had upset her, she had yet to explain and he wasn’t about to prompt her. No, he did not care what grievances she might have had so long as they did not get in their way. Her pacing about the deck was slightly annoying, but thankfully she stayed her tongue and focused.

At some point, she disappeared downstairs, probably for some sleep. That was also fine by him. It was surprising when she got herself up a short time later, but a welcome one.

The sun was past its highest point by the time they reached Cinder Islet. Blue studied the map while he got the sloop stopped, slightly resentful that she didn’t help him and make the process go by faster, urgency still laced in his actions. He grabbed a pair of shovels from down low and murmured a simple, “C’mon,” to his shipmate before he vaulted over the side of the ship, landing in the shallow water with an ungraceful splash. A moment later and he heard her following.

Since she had been the one to look it over, he asked, “Where we diggin’?”

Blue said nothing and instead came to his side, holding the map so he could view it himself. He passed a shovel off to her before he faced north to orientate himself and started towards the general area of the map’s X in the centre of the island. After taking a few seemingly random steps back and forth, he stopped, lifted his shovel and plunged it into the sand. A satisfying THUNK resounded back at them.

The two of them looked at each other before beginning to dig. It was at this point that Blue broke the long-running silence.

“Is a single piece of treasure really worth all this work?”

Z wasn’t sure what the hell he was supposed to say to that. No, he hadn’t explained anything to her about what they were up to and he knew that she wouldn’t know from the moment they had met. He barely quelled his knee-jerk reaction to yell and scold her.

“More than worth it,” he said breathlessly, continuing to dig. Blue had paused to look at him and only continued to help after another moment of thought.

At first glance, the chest they dug up wasn’t particularly eye-catching; it could even have been mistaken for a much lesser treasure. When they lifted it from the ground, exposing the emblem on the front and allowing its glow to gleam, he saw Blue realise that she had never seen anything quite like it except for once.

“This is like the chest you had when… when you ran into me, but red — it’s ashen?”

“Yea, ashen,” Z confirmed after staring at the chest in disbelief. What a way to steal one of these. He handed Blue his shovel before picking it up in his arms and heading back to the ship.

“You are also yet to explain the value of this chest,” Blue said as she strode alongside him.

“I don’t need t’,” he said. She was visibly annoyed by that. “I’ll let the gold do the talkin’.” That seemed to placate her.

Once they were back aboard the Forlorn Phoenix , there came the problem of where to go next. Until the chest — which was now stashed below deck against the foot of the bed — was turned into the appropriate Company representative, it was as good as rocks to them. There would be no breaking that lock.

“We can’t go back t’ Ancient Spire,” he had said in a plainly matter-of-fact tone when both of them came to stand at the map table.

“Morrow’s Peak is not too far from here.”

“Neither’s the gally crew this belongs t’.”

“That is also true.” She lifted her head a moment as though to make sure there was still no said galleon bearing down on them. “Galleon’s Grave is far to our north, but it is also technically the next closest outpost.” She looked up again, peering in the general direction of Ancient Spire. “We are currently hidden by the… volcano? By the rocks between these islands. Galleon’s Grave may be too obvious — we could go northwest for Dagger Tooth and use Kraken’s Fall to hide ourselves—”

“That might be bein’ a little too careful,” Z interjected with some amusement. He liked her thinking, though. “Galleon’s Grave ought’a be fine.”

They could agree to that, though it took a moment of thought for Blue to nod to him. “And if we spot a galleon coming towards us from the south, we can revisit the idea. Among others, I am sure.”

Z nodded. Something else seemed to cross Blue’s mind.

“We are going to be taking turns sleeping while we make our way there, are we not?” She didn’t sound excited about that.

“We need t’ get there as fast as possible…”

“So yes.”

“Yeah.”

If conditions were good, they could make that trip in a day’s time. However, the conditions were not good. Not only did the waves always fight those that moved in any direction from the west to north, but the wind was not to their back, coming at their side at an inopportune angle. This would take a while.

“Get some more rest. I’ll get ya up when I’m tired’a fightin’ the waves,” he said.

She gave him an unimpressed look. “When did you last sleep?”

“Been a while but I ain’t gonna be able t’ sleep yet.”

Blue clearly wanted to argue the matter but yielded. “Fine.” She took the shovels with her as she went down to the lowest deck.

*

Blue slept for quite some time. It was only when they were directly east of Liar’s Backbone that Z felt his own fatigue setting in. Thankfully, she got up on her own shortly after that, dressed and ready to take charge of the ship. They shared a fish and he explained that he had spotted nothing of interest while she rested. Z did, however, instruct her to wake him before they reached the outpost; she flashed him a curious, distrusting look before agreeing.

When Z was awoken, it felt as though hardly any time had passed. He’d had trouble getting to sleep so maybe that was, in fact, what had happened. He didn’t dwell on it, instead hurrying to get out of bed, so eager that he nearly stood up before reattaching his pegleg. That seemed to amuse his shipmate quite a lot.

Once they were on the main-deck, Z took a good look around them. Blue had stopped the ship against one of the rocks that surrounded Galleon’s Grave Outpost. That was too close for his liking, but when he looked around and realised there were still no ships around them, he understood why she had done that.

“You are awfully worried about this singular chest,” she commented.

Their very original agreement had been one that revolved around practicality, of teaching by example — though they had since made a new agreement, Z had made the former a habit when interacting with other people; they learned better that way, he had come to realise.

“When we get paid y’ll see why.”

Blue looked at him but said nothing. He saw some amount of distrust in her expression, but she refrained from voicing it.

“No change from before I laid down?” he asked.

“I have sighted nothing,” she said with a shake of her head.

“Hmm.” Standing beside a cannon, he leaned over the railing of the main-deck. “An’ I see no mer…”

They looked at each other for a moment.

“Well then, let’s get to it,” he said.

Blue looked exasperated but again she said nothing of the matter, turning to get the ship moving. If he hadn’t known what awaited them, he might have expected her to strike him, but she didn’t. A pick-pocket and budding hoarder of gold, he knew she would appreciate the payout. It seemed, he thought, that he had earned some amount of true trust from her. Then he decided that had been a ridiculous thought — their new agreement was based entirely around trust. Of course she trusted him.

“Careful as we come in,” he said as they got closer to the dock. Blue gave him a look and he allowed himself a smirk. “Just in case.”

“Just in case?”

Z nodded. His shipmate stayed quiet and focused on the task at hand.

The dock was quiet enough. The Senior Trader of the Merchant Alliance looked up from her list and gave them a polite wave; the shipwright was too busy with her work to notice them. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but there were still plenty of places where rogue pirates could have hidden themselves. Z would not be convinced until they had been paid.

Z helped tie the sail ropes and pull the ship close to the dock. It wasn’t a perfect job, merely a sufficient one. He then made his way downstairs, retrieved the chest and motioned for Blue to go on ahead. It seemed to take her a second to figure out what he wanted and even then he wasn’t convinced.

“Go on ahead,” he clarified. Their first meeting flashed through his mind and as he watched her step onto the dock, he added: “Make sure the tavern’s empty.”

Blue paused mid-stride, looking back at him. Perhaps she, too, thought back to that moment. The origin of the uncertainty in her eyes eluded him. Whatever the case, she continued onward and he followed a comfortable distance behind, one that felt safe should the tavern not be.

They came up to the door and Z paused; Blue continued through the threshold. There was no eruption of gunshots, no fighting, no screaming — nothing. She returned after a few seconds, perfectly well and alive. He stepped forward, motioning with a nod for her to stay close, and he headed towards the back of the building where it was darkest. Her expression indiscernible, he wondered if Blue had ever noticed the man lurking in these shadows, ghostly green eyes giving away his presence to anyone with a keen eye.

The chest exchanged hands. Blue visibly considered this. Then they were each handed a hefty purse. She was taken aback — he had to nudge her with an elbow to get her to stop staring, to accept it, and follow him to a table.

“This worth all the runnin’ around?”

One hand held the purse while the other rolled a coin around. Blue finally said, “This is… worthwhile. I have made large deliveries that did not pay this well, even when I picked up scraps along the way. This is…”

“Pretty damn good?”

“I see why you were so excited now. I understand why there was such a battle for the one at Plunder Outpost.”

Z couldn’t help a haughty grin.

“You do not need to look so smug about it.”

He laughed. “Nah, it ain’t that, it’s just that this is my favourite part’a bringin’ on someone new.”

She tilted her head slightly. “I thought your favourite part was the fighting part.”

Pausing, he considered her words. “That’s good ‘nd all, but it doesn’t compare t’ stealin’ one’a those.”

“What is one of those?”

“A Chest’a Legends.” The expression she gave him made Z wonder. He asked, “Y’know, a Legend’s treasure?”

“I am uncertain that I know what you mean.”

“Pirate Legends?”

“Pirate Legends?” Blue repeated. “I have heard stories of pirates and their deeds that could be described as such—”

Z shook his head. “No, no, like, actual Pirate Legends. It’s a… It’s more than a title, it’s a…”

“A status?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Pirate Legends’re pirates who’ve made a name for themselves with all the Trading Companies and gotten the attention’a the Pirate Lord himself. Or, maybe, well — I’m not really sure.”

“Pirate Lord?” There was a twinkling of… something… in her eyes. He got the feeling that the legend himself wasn’t totally alien to her.

“Y’ve heard of him, right? The Pirate Lord! It’s an honour t’ be invited t’ drink in his tavern and all that?”

“This sounds familiar, yes. And I have heard of the Legend title before, but I did not realise it was of significance or something specific.”

“Very significant an’ specific,” he emphasised. “There’s not too many of ‘em so y’ can imagine how hard it is t’ find crews y’ can steal from. Bein’ in the right time and place and bein’ able t’ out-smart or out-fight ‘em doesn’t happen too often.”

“I see,” she said with great understanding.

“Y’ can imagine, then, that stealin’ their map like that might never happen again. That captain waggled his tongue too much to ya, eh?”

It was Blue’s turn to wear a shit-eating grin. “Good drink and company tends to loosen the lips of men who have something to be proud of when they should practice silence.”

Something about that statement was off-putting to him. Still, they both had a laugh.

“Besides, I have proven to myself again and again that a sleight-of-hand tends to provide the best result for me.”

Z blinked. “Oh.”

“Mm. I am no stranger to taking things off someone’s person should I believe I can get away with it. It is quick, painless, and they are none-the-wiser until I have long since absconded with their money. Or in this case, their map. I normally would not have risked taking an item, but I am glad I did.”

“Well, y’re welcome. Really paid off, didn’t it?”

She sighed at his credit-taking. “Yes, it did. I absolutely despise the work of the Gold Hoarders—” He shifted and she immediately corrected herself. “The work of digging anything up.” When she saw he was happy with that, she continued: “A second shovel makes it less tedious.”

She wasn’t wrong about that. Digging up anything was a miserable experience, he thought, watching her examine her gloves, all ashy and dirty. Something that had been buried so deep so long ago, like a Chest of Legends, was particularly awful. No, having a partner was a very pleasant thing.

“We make a pretty good team.”

Blue looked back up at him. He wondered if he should have said that.

“I suppose we do.”

That brought him some amount of relief, but it was slightly disheartening that Blue didn’t respond with even a fraction of the jovial edge he held. Then again, her agreeing was surprising enough… He considered the situation and then nodded once to himself. Yes, they made a good team, what with having managed sailing quite a distance in less than two days and earn themselves a tale-worthy steal. Speaking of all that time spent sailing…

“So, who’s payin’ for lunch?”

Blue rolled her eyes at him.

*

“There’s nothin’ ‘round us,” Z said.

After having a meal, the two of them had gone their separate ways for a while. Z had found himself at the very top of Galleon’s Grave’s shipwreck. It offered a substantial view of the Wilds and from there he had sighted nothing, no ships or wrecks or flotsam. They were quite alone out here.

As she so often was, Blue was sitting at the desk, filling the logbook with the past days’ journey. That was an all right idea by Z — he wasn’t too good with letters, but he appreciated their steal being documented.

“How much have you slept lately?” she inquired.

“Not much.”

“I thought so. … and I understand why.”

He laughed. “Yeah. So, I’m gonna get some sleep. You should, too; y’ look like a wreck.”

Blue gave him a side-eyed look at that. “I am tired, but I would prefer to wait and not ruin my sleeping schedule.”

That didn’t sound like a bad idea, but… “Y’ sure?”

She pondered their statuses. “Yes. Go rest. I will wake you in two hours time and if I am still this fatigued I will have you do the same for me.”

“Fine by me.”

As soon as Z got to the bed, fatigue wracked his frame. He was far more tired than he had thought and lying down felt incredible. The first thought that crossed his mind when Blue woke him was that he was surprised she didn’t chastise him for not removing his pegleg. Perhaps she didn’t care if it was only for a short period of time. Besides, the prosthetic had bothered him none whatsoever in the past few weeks.

As much as he wanted to, he forced himself to sit up. Blue excused herself at that point and he quietly cursed how right she was about not ruining their sleep schedules. Just once, he wished that she would fall asleep at that desk she loved so much, but no, she was so specific about how she had to sleep.

Standing up, he made his way up the first set of stairs. She stood at the map table, pouring over it. Curious, he came to her side and she spared a momentary glance.

“Plottin’ our next adventure?”

“Is there any reason not to? I am not terribly fond of this outpost and I imagine you are not, either.” She ignored the uncertain noise he made and continued. “No, rather I find that I am eager to get a proper bath after digging in that ashy dirt.” She shook her head. “I know that The Sunken Grove has a pool in its deep centre.”

“It’s not very warm here…”

“No, it is not, but the Grove is far closer than Hidden Spring Keep is.”

He made an annoyed, whiny noise, but as always, Blue had a point.

They split up again until later when both of their stomachs bothered them enough that they needed to eat. Rather than go into the tavern, Blue fished up a fresh splashtail that they shared. They were tired enough — comfortable enough? — that they only spoke as much was necessary at the moment, but a thought had popped into Z’s mind earlier in the day and he decided that it would never leave his mind so now was the time to voice it.

“Hey, y’ know, anythin’ y’ ever need, y’ can count on me for it.”

Blue, mid-way through pulling a bone out of her half of the fish, paused to look at him. He suddenly got the feeling that he shouldn’t have said that, her expression so thoughtful. Perhaps he had pushed some sort of boundary that he didn’t know existed before — but they were friends, weren’t they? Thankfully, she nodded a moment later.

“Understood. Thank you. I suppose that the same goes for me.”

That mostly alleviated his concerns, but there was a lingering suspicion in the back of his mind that, somehow, they didn’t understand each other.

*

Leisurely sailing after how exciting the past few days had been was a pleasant change of pace. Between the poor waves and the newly terrible wind, they didn’t have much choice in taking their time. Neither of them felt like fighting the current the whole time so the ship was allowed to drift somewhat off-course a few times until one of them noticed and corrected their heading.

It was late into the evening when they arrived at The Sunken Grove, the sun touching the horizon. They ate before resting and in the morning, Blue insisted on bathing and doing some amount of laundry. Z was happy to let her go and do that. He waited until the warmest part of the day to get his turn in. As a pleasant surprise, Blue presented him with a hand-held mirror and a pair of scissors that she had bought while they were at Galleon’s Grave. It seemed that he had also earned enough of her trust to be allowed to take her dagger with him so he could shave his beard. Though she insisted that she had already trimmed her hair, as far as he could tell, it was still a mess of wavy strands and curls that was best kept tied back. He trimmed his own hair appropriately so that it would lay flat when brushed back and not tickle his neck.

The second half of the day was spent doing nothing in particular. Z was happy to sit in the crow’s nest, his legs dangling through the openings of the railing, his back against the mast. He kept a bored eye on the horizon — there was nothing noteworthy to spy, no ships, nothing. It was pure laziness that kept him up there for so long. He only came down for supper and then went back up until it was dark.

When he came down again, intent on sleeping, he was unfazed by Blue sitting on the bed just as she had a few nights ago. This time she held a half-finished tankard of grog in her hands. Without a second thought, he lifted her outstretched leg and laid down, ignoring her little screech and getting comfortable.

“You really do not need to be so rude.”

“Eh, I’m tired and y’re in the way.” He shifted some, getting an arm behind his head and propping his head up slightly, expecting a conversation. He also thought better of leaving that as his only statement and quickly said, “Fine; what’s botherin’ ya?”

She looked momentarily surprised by his observation. “More of the same. That and—” She caught herself.

He rose a brow. “And?”

It was a long moment before Blue answered, “Your offer.”

“My offer?” He hadn’t really seen it like that, though he supposed he had phrased it poorly. It took him an embarrassingly long pause to process that. “What about it?”

“I have been considering it.”

That put a small amount of dread in his belly. “Considering it how?”

“At first I wondered if there might be something that you wanted out of saying such a thing, if there was an underlying meaning to it. That seems unlikely to me; you are fairly straightforward with your words.”

He was glad she knew that — they did understand each other. “So what’s botherin’ ya then?”

She was still for a moment and refused to look at him. “What did you mean by ‘anything’?”

“Well…” Z thought on his words. “Well, anything. I can’t think of anythin’ y’ couldn’t rely on me for, y’ know? We’ve been sailin’ t’gether for a while now and I think we get on pretty good.”

After taking a sip of her grog, Blue nodded. “That we do.”

Apparently finished with her drink, she moved closer to him before reaching over to set it down on the stove beside the pan. He thought nothing of their proximity until she leaned further over him and brought a leg to his other side, straddling him.

They looked at each other for a moment before he questioned their understanding once more. He couldn’t think at all once she kissed him.

Notes:

justt
-claws way out of dumpster-
just a few more sleeps until Season 13…
-froths at the mouth-

oh yeah and I guess this chapter ends kinda funnily

Chapter 28: Fool Me Once

Summary:

Blue awakes to a potentially terrifying sight. It’s far worse than she could have ever expected.

Late in the morning while she dozed, Blue was awoken by the sound of water moving. Considering the calm weather and even calmer island water, she thought that was quite odd. When she sat up and turned around, she was surprised by the sight a light blue galleon coming to a stop beside the sloop.

That seemed problematic.

After subduing her fight-or-flight response, Blue considered her options. Nothing jumped out at her as a particularly good idea. Starting a fight was out of the question with the galleon’s cannons already pointing at them; simply making for the rigging controls and lowering the sails to put some distance between them didn’t seem like something they might allow for — again, what with their cannons already vaguely pointed at the smaller ship.

So Blue did the only thing that seemed right.

“Good morning, sirs,” she said, getting to her feet with a casual stretch, wrapping her blanket around her shoulders. When the crew didn’t respond immediately with hostilities, she felt much better about the situation. Z was still something of a wild card, but she trusted that he wouldn’t do anything stupidly rash when he showed himself. Then again, how would this galleon crew perceive a shipmate of hers?

One of the galleon crew, a brute of a woman with curly red hair, waved back to her, perhaps out of obligation as the gesture lacked energy. Something about her expression didn’t sit right with Blue. An ink-black-haired man at the helm hollered back, “Good morning!” He was clearly no ordinary sailor, a pirate, though he was one that cared greatly for his appearance, and for good food. He was dressed in well-cared-for dark clothing and sported a beard that outlined his face; his entire countenance reminded her of someone she had met just before entering the Sea of Thieves. A crewman still finagling with the rigging looked much rougher all around and with a build of bulky muscle. The final member of this crew was the finest looking of them all. His appearance was well-cared for and he dressed even better than the helmsman did, though wore no shirt under his jacket, showing off a well-toned form.

“What can I do for you this fine morning?” she asked.

“We have some business at this island,” the shirtless man answered.

“I see.”

A rope was tossed to her and she caught it. Guessing correctly that it was so that they could pull the ships close together, she tied it to a support beam of the canvas back and the master rigger worked on doing exactly that. Should they have wanted the island to themselves, surely they would have simply asked this little sloop to give them the space. To pull the ships together…

“If it makes matters easier for your crew,” Blue began, her words slow as curiosity began to turn to concern; “we can be on our way.”

“Oh, by all means, stay a while with us,” the man replied, apparently unperturbed by her plural word usage. He made a motion to the crewmate that was pulling the ships together — mostly by pulling the Forlorn Phoenix’s stern closer — and motioned that his work was satisfactory before looking to the helmsman. “Garrett, would you be so kind as to begin looking over the book once more?”

The fine man Garrett nodded and disappeared into the captain’s cabin. The other turned his attention back to Blue and she spoke quickly.

“Might I dress before we continue? It is rather chilly this morn.”

He paused for a moment before nodding and motioning for her to do that. “Yes, of course.”

When Blue made her way to the hold, she was unsurprised to find Z sat on the edge of the bed, wide awake, ready to go. He looked frazzled.

“We have company,” she stated plainly, voice hushed so the galleon crew did not hear.

“How many?” Z asked. “What kinda ship?”

“At least four. It is a galleon,” she replied, stepping past him and beginning to rummage through the clothing chest. When she looked back at him, he had moved to the foot of the bed with his back turned to her.

“I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I,” she said after wondering if she should try to calm him. She was mostly done changing her clothes and had turned back to him; at some point, he had turned to give her an incredulous look. She ignored him as she flattened the cuffs of her coat’s sleeves, forgoing a nice dress in this situation — just in case — for something similar to Z’s outfit, if more stylish. “I do not believe we are in any danger, however. They seem confident. If they were not, they could have sent us to the seafloor already.”

“Doesn’t mean they ain’t about t’ try robbin’ us,” he shot back.

“Perhaps.” She paused and added, “I have not hidden your existence from them.”

He sighed and looked fairly exasperated until he took note of Blue placing her dagger on the back of her belt, hiding it under her coat. This precautionary measure seemed to appease him some.

“Get a change of clothes on and show yourself, hmm?” she suggested.

“… Fine, but I’m comin’ up armed.”

She decided that was fair and nodded, making her way past him and heading back up to the quarter-deck. While Garrett was still out of sight and the one she had not been talking with was busy making sure the galleon was stopped properly, she spied the woman disappearing below deck. The one she had been talking with now stood on the short gangplank of the gally that stuck out, hovering over the sloop. He visibly eyed her new clothing.

“What business brings you here?” Blue asked, ignoring his look.

“The skeletal kind,” he answered simply.

Blue regarded him with curiosity. If there was a skeleton crew here, they had not encountered it. This may have been a large island, but it struck her as odd that they had not been greeted by swords. How very odd. She wanted to voice that thought but he moved to speak first.

“My crew — forgive me, allow me to introduce us. You are acquainted with Garrett, my bookkeeper. Arthur—” he gestured to the sturdy man that had been busy with the ship and still was “—is my quartermaster. Fisher downstairs is the best cook out of all of us, though she still tries to me give an attitude about it. And I—” he brought a fist to his chest, standing proudly “—am Captain Jackadyle Hancock! But my friends just call me Jack. Our fine ship here is the Winter’s End .”

She wasn’t sure if that was an invitation or not.

“I am Blue,” she said with far less bravado. Gesturing to the ship underfoot, she added, “This is the Forlorn Phoenix . My hired help is Z.”

No one ever seemed to know what to think of his name. This one, however, seemed to think better of commenting on it.

“If you do not need us to get out of your way, then how might we assist you?”

The obvious answer would be for them to assist the crew of the Winter’s End in killing their bounty target, of which there must have been multiple. Or Z was right and they had more nefarious intentions.

“Your ship has been here for a time?” he inquired.

Blue nodded her head and said, “We have been here for about a day. We have set foot on the island and not spotted any recent skeletal activity. If you have a bounty here, they are well hidden.”

“Well, it’s not a typical bounty that we seek, you see,” Captain Jackadyle began; Blue’s skin started to crawl. “Have you checked the edges of the island and the islets?”

“No. We had no idea that we were looking for anything when we arrived,” she said.

“That makes sense,” he said, nodding after a moment.

“What about your target is not typical?” Blue asked, making note of Fisher reappearing on the deck. She and Arthur came together at the hatch opening and spoke quietly to each other.

“Well, y’see, it isn’t the skeletons that we’re after but instead something they have,” he explained.

“How curious.” Blue had never heard of such a thing. It didn’t seem totally ridiculous that a crew of skeletons might have stolen something of value and that a crew would task themselves with recovering it, but something seemed off.

Before she could respond, a sharp, “Nuh uh,” came from Z as he climbed the final steps to stop on the main-deck of the Forlorn Phoenix , a hand on his cutlass’ grip. “Ev’ryone jus’ writes off whatever skellies make off with,” he started; “Either y’re lyin’ or what they have is worth a fortune.”

The three aboard the galleon seemed taken aback by his aggression. Blue was slightly annoyed, but…

“Forgive my partner’s brashness, but I find that I agree with him,” she said carefully. “I have not heard of any sort of mission like the one you say you are on.”

“Well, we know a group of skeletons are supposed to be here, and we know they possess something of priceless nature—”

Blue cut him off so Z didn’t. “Pricelessly valuable or worthless?” She could not hide her suspicion now and she detected annoyance in Jackadyle’s expression.

“We would greatly appreciate your assistance.”

“I think we’ve got better things t’ do with our time,” Z said.

Sensing tension, Blue raised a hand at her shipmate.

“We were not asking,” Hancock clarified.

Z had halfway drawn his cutlass when he and Blue eyed each other, the two crewmen of the galleon having approached their cannons. Their aiming point would not have been optimal, but the ships had enough distance between their bows that they could still adequately blast the sloop apart.

“I’m certain that we can come to an agreement,” Blue said, forcing a pleasant smile as Z reluctantly sheathed his weapon.

“Of course!” Hancock said with a clap of his hands. “Fisher, would you fetch the plank—”

“Nonsense,” Blue interjected; “It is not that far.”

Decisively, she made the small jump from the sloop’s high stern to the galleon’s ladder. She ignored everyone’s surprise — she only aimed to keep the peace and get this over with. Even still, she could just hear the scolding that Z surely wanted to give her. He could complain later, she decided, setting foot on the deck of the larger ship whose captain directed her to the cabin.

Through the door lie a fairly simple room. The furnishings were as to be expected: a bed in the corner and a nice desk with a matching chair occupied the room, as well as a waist-high cabinet that contained who-knew-what to the desk’s side. On the other side was a shelving unit, full of documents and books and perhaps some still unopened voyages. Atop the cabinet was a model galleon in great likeness to the Winter’s End that she found a little self-indulgent.

Between the desk and shelf stood Garrett, hunched over a small book. Though she didn’t have a good look at it, Blue swore that it was full of scribbled markings, perhaps drawings even, but definitely not proper writing. The bookkeeper stood upright as though to greet her before surprise crossed his features. She couldn’t pinpoint what exact sort of expression he wore after that.

Behind her, Blue heard someone’s footsteps. She was going to ignore that and get on with a greeting and helpful question to Garrett when Arthur stepped to her side, taking one of her arms in his grip and beginning to tie a rope about her wrists. A moment later and Blue was quietly embarrassed at how unperturbed she was at this.

“Boss doesn’t want you gettin’ int’ any trouble while you’re sailin’ with us.”

“… of course.”

Something about his expression now told her that Garrett didn’t approve, though neither did he make any attempt to stop it.

Blue patiently waited for Arthur to finish his task. His knots were quick and sturdy, as to be expected. She only gave him a sideways glance when he took her sword from her and stepped back out of the room.

If she had to guess, the noises she heard outside were those of Z being subdued. His response right off the rip had been a rough one; she did not doubt that he would refuse to cooperate in the slightest. They could simply kill him, she supposed, but perhaps they worried that might endanger her compliance. Not only that but there would be no telling when he would return from his trip to the Sea of the Damned. No… No, it made plenty of sense to not kill him.

As to why this crew needed the extra hands so badly, Blue was still uncertain. Her eyes went to Garrett, who had also paused at the sounds outside. He noticed her looking but said nothing as Hancock opened the door and stepped inside.

“Garrett! Ready for our next task?” he inquired, acting as though all was well. His clothing was slightly lopsided now, his golden hair less laid back.

“Ah, yes sir. Shall I go onto the island with Arthur?”

“You shall. Take care of it in one go, aye?”

“Aye,” Garrett responded, understanding the previous statement to be an order, not a mere suggestion. He closed the book and took it in hand. “Just in case,” he stated before stepping out. He spared Blue another glance when he passed her.

Blue took a moment to consider how withdrawn the bookkeeper had become before turning her attention to Hancock. She lifted her bound wrists up into view. “Is this really necessary?”

“I’m afraid so, my dear,” Hancock responded as he sat at the desk. He motioned for her to sit at the foot of the bed.

As she sat, she contemplated things. Blue happened to agree; with how quickly the situation had degraded, this crew had needed more control over it if they wanted any sort of help. She considered this, taking care to sit carefully so her dagger stayed concealed.

“Our quest is not a typical one, and as such we require extra hands to aid us in completing it. You would be right to refuse us, but we cannot afford to wait for others to offer their services,” he said.

That raised some questions. Before she could voice any, Hancock picked up a skull that was resting on the desk and inspected it. So strange it was with the brilliant purple crystalline structure atop it that Blue had not recognised it as a skull, instead assumed it was a decorative piece. It was quite unlike anything that she had ever seen.

“Another ‘priceless’ item?” she asked, not quite able to help her curiosity.

“Aye, it is,” he said, putting it back down. “Without its mate, it is worthless. But when the two come together, they are far more valuable than any mere trinket.”

Blue wondered what that could mean until she concluded that the items must fit into each other to become a single unique piece. She decided that must have been the case until something else crossed her mind: magic. Any item could be unbelievably valuable if it could do something, she figured. Now, just what that could have been eluded her and neither did she ask.

Another thought did cross Blue’s mind: it was a damned shame that this whole situation came down to being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It didn’t help matters at all that she couldn’t figure out what the crew could require aid with if they could handle a particularly stealthy group of skeletons.

The more Blue thought about it, the more suspicious she became.

*

The chalice was interesting, but less so than the skull was. Though she had never seen anything that compared to either of the items, Blue found a cup with an upside-down skull for a vessel rather drab. It certainly was pretty, she had to admit, but drab, too.

Some of the crew was at the map table. Hancock had said something about map coordinates that she hadn’t heard clearly before he disappeared downstairs with a freshly returned Garrett who had drying blood coating one side of his face and looked far more ragged than Arthur did. The man must not have been the greatest fighter, she wagered.

Arthur, currently, was putting his rope-wrangling skills to use. A set of two ropes making four lines had been fastened around the bowsprit of the Forlorn Phoenix and then tied to the railing behind the captain’s cabin. Blue was certain that towing the sloop was so that she and Z couldn’t escape if they caught a death or simply swam into the waiting arms of a merfolk, but it also occurred to her that she had never heard of anything like this happening in the Sea of Thieves. Many of the pirates here were fairly docile compared to the waters on the other side of the Devil’s Shroud, yet even the most ill-behaved pirates here did not take hostages. Any pirates whose names had become infamous had done so by being particularly aggressive, killing pirates and sinking their ships with efficiency, not stealing them away.

Current ongoings were indeed very strange.

In the time she spent waiting — for what she did not know — she had made herself more comfortable, now sitting in the middle of the bed with her legs crossed and back against the wall. The door had been left open so she was watched the entire time, even before she had moved; when she had finally done that, Arthur had come through to start on the tow ropes. As amusing as it had been to fantasise about how she would kill each of the crew for their misgivings, she was becoming anxious.

Hancock and Garrett returned to the room proper a short time later, the latter having cleaned himself up some. He busied himself with a book at the desk while his captain stepped outside to inspect the towlines. He and Arthur returned to the room together, though the latter then continued on and stepped back onto the main-deck.

“Garrett,” Hancock started; “We are going to begin to our destination. Make sure our guest is comfortable, will you?”

Garrett simply nodded before his captain stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Blue forced her expression to stay impassive despite her frustration at being watched so closely.

When she grew tired of the silence and of Garrett glancing up at her from it, she asked, “What is so important in that book?”

“It contains a record of…” He sighed. “Well, I am not sure how much I should tell you. The cap’n wishes you to only know what you must, and that is very little.”

Blue raised her bound hands. “I believe the contents of that book and whatever it has you doing are quite important.”

He looked at her and sighed, visibly annoyed though she didn’t think with her.

“I can get you something to eat if it pleases you,” he suggested instead.

They hadn’t been allotted an opportunity to eat breakfast. They. She wondered what Z’s status was like, then impressed upon herself that there was nothing to be done about him until she took care of herself.

“I would appreciate that.”

He nodded. “I’m sure we can spare something.” He looked up from the book to the door, staying still for a moment before getting up and heading over to her. “The cap’n also wishes for me to go over your possessions.”

They looked at each other for a long moment before Garrett sighed.

“Look, miss, this will be much easier if you just tell me what you have on your person. I’ve no interest in forcing my hands upon you.”

He sounded genuine enough. Still, Blue was deeply frustrated at being backed into a corner as she was. She could simply give up her dagger, or she could try striking now as the cut out on the top of the blade would be perfect for relieving him of his own blade, but Blue rarely fought with just her dagger, and never in such a desperate situation. The noise would surely attract unwanted attention, too…

With a sigh, she lifted her arms and twisted around to one side, displaying the grip of her dagger to him. He made a small noise before taking it off her belt.

“What an exquisite weapon,” he commented before storing it away in a drawer of the desk.

With nothing else to do, Blue demanded, “What is it that you need us for?”

Slightly taken aback, Garrett stared at her, contemplating his response. He drummed the fingers of one hand along the backrest of the chair. “It is… a fight.”

Blue could not fathom what sort of fight could be worse than a horde of skeletons and require such drastic actions. Still… “Best you feed me then, hmm?”

He nodded and made his way to the door, opening it. Rather than personally retrieving something for her, he called for Fisher to bring something up. Of course , she wouldn’t be left alone and Blue couldn’t help grinding her teeth some.

An annoying amount of time passed. Garrett was content to sit at the desk and go through books and documents — she stopped counting how many he thumbed through — and Blue stayed quiet. When Fisher appeared with a coconut in hand, the woman had tried to give it to her whole and uncracked until Garrett glowered at her for being so cruel.

All of this bothered Blue some. Captain Hancock had been happy to put on a smile and pleasant act until there was a sign that she and Z would not cooperate willingly with them. Arthur and Fisher had been impassive from the start and more than willing to get rough with them, perhaps even eager to carry out those commands. Garrett, however…

“What sort of fight is it to be?” she inquired when they were alone again.

Garrett looked up from the pair of documents in his hands. “What sort of— ah.” He looked unhappy. “A tough sort of fight,” he explained, looking back to the papers.

Before Blue could push the matter, Hancock came through the door. He gave her a nod of acknowledgement before addressing his bookkeeper.

“Have you made any progress in our plans, Garrett?”

He nodded, quickly saying, “I have some ideas. I have found nothing specific to our situation, nor any particular, eh, plans. But I have some ideas. I would like to go through our supplies before I suggest any, though.”

“Very well, make it so,” Hancock said, nodding. He took Garrett’s place in the chair when he could, glancing over everything strewn across the tabletop. “I trust you’re comfortable?” he asked, not even looking at Blue. She wondered if he could hear her glaring at him. “No matter. We will reach Old Faithful Isle by sundown. First thing at sunrise, we will begin.”

“Begin what ?”

“You see,” he started, adjusting how he sat; “These items—” he gestured to the skull and chalice “—are for a ritual, of which you must partake in. We will—”

“If you need a pretty maiden in distress to sacrifice—”

He laughed. Blue wasn’t sure this was so funny.

“No, no, my dear, it has nothing to do with your sex or disposition. We simply need someone to… focus things a bit.”

She blinked. “Focus things?”

“I will explain more in the morning,” he said, putting on a pleasant smile. “For now, I believe Garrett and my quartermaster would like to go over our supply situation.”

Blue hated how few answers she had.

*

The cabin was dimly lit by a single lantern by the door that led out to the balcony. To no surprise, Blue had been unable to sleep very much, an expected result of the current situation and being hobbled for the night. Now she could hear the island birds waking up.

As it had been they who alternated spending time in the cabin with Blue, Hancock and Garrett had refused to tell her anything more about the situation. Hancock, whose pleasant demeanour had slipped away more and more throughout the day, had been particularly interested in keeping a close eye on her after learning of her dagger while Garrett had spent much of his time going through documents. He still sat at the desk now, doing just that.

Rolling over from her right side, Blue sat up and looked at the man until he stopped what he was doing to look back.

“Were you up all night?” she asked, bewildered.

He sighed and nodded. “I’m too… too nervous to sleep. My mind is running faster than a brigantine in a crosswind.”

That, in turn, made her nervous.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Careful with that,” Blue said unkindly.

Garrett took no offence and chuckled. “I’ve been thinking,” he repeated, the words trailing as he stood. He made his way to the main door of the cabin and peered through it — for it was still left ajar — and stepped away when he was satisfied with whatever he did or did not see.

“What have you been thinking about?” Blue finally asked, impatient.

“It isn’t right, what we’re doing.”

She blinked. “You mean…”

He gestured in general to her and her sloop.

“I could have told you that.”

He closed his eyes and his posture slumped some before he forced a sad little smile. To her surprise, he turned and left the cabin. Blue was so dumbstruck that she didn’t immediately heed the opportunity to try to rifle through the desk right away and retrieve her dagger; by the time she thought to, she could hear footsteps nearby. Instead, she waited.

When Garrett came back, it struck Blue that it was unusual to see white clothing like the set he had returned with. A sword was included underneath the set.

“I need you to put this on.”

Blue recoiled at that.

“Now, I’m gonna let you do it yourself. I need to untie your hands anyway for new ropes — Jack wanted to use chain but I convinced him otherwise. They’re better put to use on Graymarrow anyway.”

She stayed still as he approached her, placing the items in her lap. It took a long moment for her to recognise that word as a name, one she had realised she had overheard of before in taverns but knew almost nothing about. Garrett took her wrists into his grip and started working on the knots.

“Graymarrow?” she asked.

Garrett heaved a great sigh. “Yes, Graymarrow. That is who we’re after here.”

“That is some skeleton captain, I presume?”

He gave her a look that told her she was wrong even before he shook his head. “Haven’t been ‘round here very long, have you?”

“Long enough,” she muttered, giving him a sideways glance.

The knot was proving to be a hassle. Frustrated, Garrett drew his cutlass and used the very tip of it to slice the knot off. From there, he unwound the rope binding her wrists together and then did the same for her ankles. When Blue proved docile while a weapon was brandished at her, slowly and steadily getting to her feet, he stepped over to the desk and leaned back on it, putting a comfortable amount of space between them.

“If you don’t know who Graymarrow is, count yourself lucky until yesterday.”

“I’ve heard the name before,” she said sharply. When that proved to make her a fool, she looked away and added, “I’ve heard others repeating the name. Sometimes they had stories to tell, too.” She paused. “They seemed like very silly stories. But according to you… They were true, weren’t they?”

He nodded. “Most likely. Graymarrow is a Skeleton Lord who takes down anyone who gets in his way, marooning their souls so they can never exact their vengeance upon him.”

Blue wasn’t quite sure what any of that meant. “Explain.”

Frustrated, Garrett took a breath in and held it for a moment. He kept his eyes on the floor when she moved to begin getting changed.

“You’ve certainly met skeletons before. Their gravelly voices speak no words,; they only emit growls and raspy breaths. They do nothing but try to kill you. Lords are different. They’ve kept their consciousness. They can think and act just as they did in life, but they’ve become a twisted abomination that would prefer to kill you rather than hold a conversation. Most notably, however, Graymarrow has learned some foul magic to bind souls to objects.”

That must have been what he meant by marooning souls. “That’s why you brought us here,” she said, beginning to realise the severity of what had just been shared with her. She stared at the shirt she was about to put on. “But, why ?”

Garrett lifted his chin to look out the door before settling back to staring at the floor. “Graymarrow hunted down a crew for a treasure they possessed. The less I tell you, the better, I think. But even after scuttling their own ship, Graymarrow hunted for them, and when he found and killed them, he bound their souls and left them on the island he found them on, taking the treasure he sought in the process. One of our ships discovered their story and freed their souls.

“The captain of the slaughtered crew learned a fair amount while they were hunted. With that information, we discovered that Graymarrow had a fair number of crews working under him. Two of them were tasked with — well, it’s not important. It shouldn’t be, at least, not if we’re successful. The point is, we retrieved the two items required to wake Graymarrow from his rest, something that the M — the other ship’s captain discovered he must do despite his immortal nature.”

Blue pondered this information for a moment. “The plan is to… ambush him while he sleeps?”

“Yes.”

“That seems…” Low , she wanted to say. Cowardly and without honour. But here in this Sea of Thieves, pirates could get second and third and fourth and even more chances at life. To cross Graymarrow, it seemed, was to forfeit that opportunity, to forfeit an afterlife, even. If a Skeleton Lord was that dangerous…

“… No wonder you lot captured us…”

Garrett sighed once more. “Yes. It is— … yes. When we took on this task and gathered the information to do so, Jack, he… I’ve never seen that man so pale, so… afraid.”

“Why take this job then?”

The other was quiet for a long time, long enough that Blue finished dressing in the uniform she had been given. She was just about to inspect the sword when Garrett looked up at her. She stayed still.

“It seemed like a simple task, to pick up what our alliance-mates had started and finish it. When we learned a little more, it seemed right, like something that needed to be done. When we met up with them and—” He stopped and sighed. “… when we met up with them, Jack tore them a new arse for being so… so…”

“So scared?” Blue asked, raising a brow.

“Yes. But rightly so. The—” Garrett stopped himself. “… they wanted us to join together in proper for this voyage. That was the best idea. And then Jack told them that they weren’t worthy of… of anything, really, if that was how they were going to be. But then we looked through their notes and the other ship’s notes and… and something in Jack cracked. He normally runs right into things without a second thought, but the more and more we learned, the more nervous he got. Oh, he tried to hide it from us, but the rest of us were even more anxious about this. Jack made a joke about getting some help at any cost and the other two… well, they didn’t think of it like that, and then he did, too. I thought they were joking, that they couldn’t be serious…”

“And yet here we are.”

He nodded before approaching her. Her expression must have betrayed her.

“I’d keep that blade sheathed, if I were you. It’s seen better days.”

She looked from him to it and then back to him. Then: “… I don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“Why give me this? Why tell me everything?”

“Because as afraid I am,” he started, putting the sword on her belt for her; “I am more ashamed that it’s come to this.”

This new rope that he began working onto her wrists was set up differently; Blue immediately realised that she was to still have some range of motion with her arms. She would, however, not be able to do anything useful such as unsheathing the sword she had been given, which was apparently not even worth doing, she reminded herself. This was frustrating.

“And yet it hasn’t stopped you—”

“Girl, you do not understand what is to come in mere minutes.”

“I think I do.”

He scowled. “Graymarrow is a menace, but we have concocted a plan that should allow us to fell him. Before you are to place the ritual items, we will line the battlefield with gunpowder kegs, spare ropes and chains to snare him, to stop him from moving and make him an easy target to blast apart. Your part in starting that for us will be to blast him into the tripwires with the first gunpowder keg.”

“It sounds as though I am not to survive that.”

He shook his head. “Jackadyle doesn’t really care if you do or not. It’s not a terrible plan, either, but the use of an unwilling scapegoat is shameful.”

“So why tell me all of this if you’re not going to do anything about it?”

Garrett looked up from her bindings to stare back at her before taking a deep breath. He turned and made his way back over to the desk and she thought that would be the last of their conversation until she spied him rifling through the drawer. He stepped back over to her with her dagger in hand and wrapped his hands around her waist to set it back in place as he’d found it.

“I don’t think you’ve put this on quite right,” he started, referring to her open, untucked jacket.

“Old habits.”

“Good habits, I take it.” He gave the dagger a small tug to make sure it was set well before closing her jacket by two buttons and taking a step back. He looked about her and then nodded. “Well hidden.”

“If I may…” Blue started. When he nodded for her to continue, she said: “That blade is more a tool than weapon. And if this sword is as old as you—”

“It is a fine blade. The sheath is not.”

Blue blinked. “You lied.”

He chuckled. “Yes, I did, miss. I’m not the best fighter.”

She could appreciate that, though she still felt oddly betrayed. “An old, shitty sheath for a good blade?”

“Precisely. Jack didn’t want to equip you with any weapons at all, but I insisted on something so you look convincing to Graymarrow.”

She hated that, but it was smart. “Then I ought to have a gun as well, shouldn’t I?”

Garrett gave her a sideways glance before sighing. “Do you prefer musket or pistol?”

“Musket.”

He nodded. “I will retrieve one when Jack comes up to relieve me of my watch duty.”

“What, you don’t trust me not to make a mess of things?”

He couldn’t help a small, amused grin. “I don’t. And I also don’t want to ruin this ruse by mucking up what I’ve been told to do. If they catch wind of this, they’ll clap me in irons next. Wait to cut those ropes until the time is right, hmm?”

That made sense she supposed. Uncertain of what else to do, Blue sat on the edge of the bed, resisting the urge to fiddle with her new restraints. The whole situation was awful but at least one of the crew had enough of a conscious to fill her in on important details and arm her.

It was a small while until Hancock finally showed up. He didn’t look as though he had slept very much — Blue supposed no one on the ships had. She could easily imagine Z spending all night angrily staring at a wall in the hold of the Forlorn Phoenix and that made her wonder if he was being watched as carefully as she was. She’d find out eventually, she supposed.

Garrett and Hancock went over Blue’s current state, the bookkeeper explaining that he thought it would be a good idea to also put a musket on her back so her appearance didn’t immediately tip Graymarrow off to their plan. Hancock took the bait. Just as expected, he stayed in the room with Blue while Garrett was gone. Still, the captain looked… rattled. Yesterday morning he passed for a fine gentleman of perhaps too much swagger; now he looked as though he had aged ten years.

Blue refrained from saying anything to him, fearing the possibility of ruining the plans she and Garrett had made, and when he returned, the captain left. As discussed, an Eye of Reach was placed on her back, further hiding the dagger’s presence.

“Now, we can’t spare any ammunition—”

“I have some in the pocket of my other trousers.”

Said ammunition was transferred to the pair she currently wore.

“It’s better than nothing,” Garrett said. Blue agreed. “Now then,” he started, standing up and looking about the room. “I suppose there is no delaying it further. Although…”

She agreed with him — they had done their best to meander, but… “Although what?”

Garrett leaned over the desk, scanning everything strewn about it. He grabbed a couple of books and made a stack of three of them.

“Should things… Should they go well, I hope we simply part ways.” He paused, tapping a finger on the desk. Both of them wondered if Hancock would allow for that. Garrett shook his head. “If things do not and we are all slain, then there will be nothing to discuss. But if you prove victorious and we are not, I want you to take these,” he said, gesturing to the books. “They have vital information to this mission in them. It is where all the captains recorded all that they knew, and where I have been chronicling our journeys. It would be a damned shame for all of it to go to waste.”

Blue looked over at him, the curiosity she felt outweighed by growing concern. “If this is all so dangerous, why do it at all? Why face Graymarrow?”

He smiled and shook his head. “Graymarrow binds the souls of all he comes across. How could we not? It is a perfect opportunity to weaken an otherwise invincible enemy to all of the Sea of Thieves.”

She recoiled slightly. “… you’re really going forward with this…?”

Another sigh. “As much as I hate how Jack’s handled this, I’d hate more to be responsible for not trying to stop Graymarrow when we had a chance.”

They looked at each other for a moment before he picked up the skull and chalice, making his way over to her. Blue awkwardly took them, a buzzing panic beginning to fill her chest.

“Come now.”

Notes:

My original notes for the notes on this chapter are just “somethingsomething Season 13 maybe” and I think that’s hilarious. Season 13’s been great, but we haven’t actually been going very hard, nor have we had any crazy stories come from it; and we’ve been on both sides of the Burning Blade. It’s just been somewhat refreshing and a fun new thing. It’s very neat.

uh unless you were looking for an on-subject ramble about this chapter specifically in which case
>:)

Chapter 29: Revenge of the Morningstar

Summary:

The nightmare continues.

The ride in the rowboat from the galleon’s stern to the shoreline was a short one, but deeply uncomfortable nonetheless. A typical rowboat such as this one easily carried four people — the typical maximum crew size — and so the presence of Blue and all the supplies they brought made it especially awkward.

Quietly seething, Blue only just kept herself calm and refrained from drawing her dagger on the crew of the Winter’s End . Garrett, rightfully ashamed, had not fully rectified the situation. While she appreciated his efforts to give her an advantage, he was not spared her disdain.

When the rowboat was sufficiently pulled onto the sand and emptied of its contents, Captain Hancock produced a map of the island from the breast pocket of his jacket. After giving it a good look over, he began the trek uphill. Blue chose to follow him from a comfortable distance before anyone felt the need to make her walk.

The path they took skirted around the island’s southwestern perimeter for a time. Initially, a primal sense of self-preservation had shied Blue away from the sheer drop they walked atop; when she realised that there were hands nearby to stop her from jumping when the fancy struck her, she silently cursed that instinct.

When it seemed they could go no further, they turned inland. The way up was steep and slippery, full of loose sand cradled by hard rock. They passed a seemingly dead tree, too. Though such were a staple of the Wilds, Blue felt it a portent.

They reached what seemed to be about the highest nearby point that they could stand upon without stepping onto stone and then they suddenly took a left. Had they continued, they would have stumbled into a crack in the island. At first glance it didn’t look impossible to go down into it; then Blue spotted an obvious path on the other side. Something about it stuck in her mind.

Continuing onward, the crack in the earth came to be on their right. It opened up more and more as they walked, becoming both deeper and wider. This island seemed about as sturdy as the honour of the Winter’s End crew seemed.

Before them was a wall, an opening underneath a watch point. If the structure was anything to go off of, the island must have been inhabited at some point. Blue felt more sure of this observation as more structure entered her view. There were fences, ramshackle as many of the buildings were in this land, but still sturdy. With all the elevated platforms that could easily have served as more watch points — and could have comfortably housed a cannon — Blue got the feeling that this was a heavily enforced location at one time. Now, however, it was rather desolate.

Or, perhaps, that simply fit the mood that the group carried more than anything.

A wall lined with punji sticks had been followed, kept to their right. There was a threshold to it that they went through, the area opening up. All around them were more punji sticks and walls, encasing them in what was a fairly protective boundary. Just as she was wondering what they were doing, they came to a stop and Hancock thoroughly scanned the area.

“Anyone see anything that might be what we’re looking for?”

Blue was curious what that might be. Everyone looked around the area before spreading out some. She stayed where she was; she hadn’t been told to do anything and she certainly wasn’t about to offer. The crew had also not spread apart as much as she would have liked to draw her dagger on them.

“Hey, yeah, this is it!” Fisher called from just up the hill.

Up against the western barrier was a grey table with a purple cloth over it, adorned with skulls on the backboard. Upon it were two black and orange pedestals of questionable origins. Blue felt uneasy just looking at the whole thing, then even more so when it occurred to her that the skull and chalice she carried would fit perfectly on them.

Hancock and Fisher both looked over the table. Arthur perused the area some more; Garrett had stayed near Blue and when it seemed this was whatever exactly they were looking for, he motioned for her to sit. She simply brought herself down to kneel and sit on the heels of her feet.

Just as Garrett had told her, they planned to make the battlefield a hazard for their prey, carefully laying down ropes and a lesser number of chains that could be pulled to snare anything that was caught amidst them. Two gunpowder barrels had also been carried onto the island; one was set down beside the table and the other was placed in the middle of the area. A third and fourth were already present on the island and taken custody of as well.

Not considering her place in all of this, it felt… wrong, somehow.

As Hancock had Blue stand again, she realised that the rest of the crew had disappeared. Following the direction he had come from, she spotted Garrett getting comfortable behind a dead tree; the other two were entirely out of sight.

“You are to wait one minute before placing the items on the table after I step away,” Hancock instructed her. He stepped away and pointed out the keg near the table. “When you are able, you are to use this.” Then he stepped away to hide on the other side of the nearest wall.

Briefly, Blue considered ignoring his command and placing them right away. What could he possibly do about that? Something stayed her hands despite her bitterness.

When Blue had roughly counted a minute past, she stood and more properly approached the table. Her skin crawled and tingled as she looked at it. With a deep breath, she placed the items down on the pedestals.

“Who DARES disturb my slumber?!”

Of all the things to happen next, she was not expecting a voice from below the sand to start screaming at her, a voice of rage and hatred. This, she realised, was Graymarrow, and he was very bemused about being roused by someone he did not recognise.

“Your uniform? You’re one of Slate’s crew! I thought I bound you pitiful wretches and left you to rot! That curse should be unbreakable…”

Or perhaps he did. The clothing was recognisable at the very least to him — another crew’s uniform. Now it made sense why she had been given such a nice change of clothes. Worse still was Graymarrow’s own admittance to binding souls to things.

“That means you must be — an IMPOSTER!”

This was a terrible situation she had found herself in.

Her mind raced with possible choices she could make to get herself safely through this conundrum.

“I don’t know why you wear the uniform of the Morningstar ,” — that name seemed familiar to her but unimportant at the moment — “ha, but p’raps you’d like to suffer the same fate? Those cowards didn’t deserve t’ reach the Shores of Gold! They were such worms , one of ‘em jumped overboard the moment she laid eyes on me.”

Blue wasn’t sure if she could blame that lady for deserting her crew; this was a daunting situation but that was a shameful, cowardly thing to do. This also wasn’t the time to judge someone else.

“I’ll cut you down just as easily, ‘cept I think I’ll take it nice and slow…”

If all the stories she had overheard and ignored were to be believed, he was being honest and simply telling everyone how this would go down. Blue had to subdue her flight or fight response as she watched a truly enormous skeleton rise from the dirt. With a blue gem set in his eye socket, he scanned the area before him — which consisted primarily of just Blue — and then drew a blunderbuss.

“Wait!”

She put her hands out as best she could, raising them some. The restraints made such a gesture difficult and reduced its effectiveness but if his stillness was anything to go by, Graymarrow noticed. Blue also took a step to the side, then decided that would not do and instead slowly took a few steps closer to him.

“There are four pirates nearby who want to kill you.” Graymarrow’s head tilted slightly before he laughed, hard. Blue was undeterred and said, “They forced me to go along with their plans. There are gunpowder kegs and snares everywhere—”

Graymarrow was still laughing until he spat, “If you think I’m fallin’ fer—”

If Blue didn’t know better, that sound was Hancock yowling in rage. A very unkind descriptor for herself came from his lips before he showed himself, pistol in hand. She thought he would aim at her directly; instead, he shot the keg behind her. While not close enough to suffer real injury from it, she was still close enough that the blast forced her forward, knocking her into Graymarrow’s looming form.

This seemed an inopportune position to be in. What was more surprising was the sound of Garrett bellowing; after stepping back, she turned to look and was surprised to see him charging toward them. Only slightly dazed, she took this opportunity to reach behind her back, finally unsheathing her dagger and working on freeing herself. She didn’t see it, but she heard the blunderbuss go off, the thud that followed, and knew he was dead.

Suddenly, pain erupted from her right hip. Wincing, Blue was aware that she now had to look down at Graymarrow’s hulking form — next was the realisation that he had grabbed her and lifted her up with one single hand and she would be next.

With her hands free now, Blue bashed the pommel of her dagger into the side of his head as hard as she could. She was surprised but deeply thankful that he released his grip on her and she dropped to the ground, unable to find her footing in the amount of pain that radiated through her hip and down her leg.

Noises came from the remaining three members of the Winter’s End . Hancock was particularly loud but distant. A sword was driven into Graymarrow’s side and Blue realised that Arthur and Fisher had come to personally engage him. Now seemed as good a time as any to start scooting back away from the fight and reconsider things.

“Think you can take me?!”

Blue didn’t even bother wondering what Graymarrow was yelling at, who he shot — it wasn’t her so she didn’t care. She leaned back against a dead tree and focused on breathing. She could still move and was glad for that, but her hip hurt fiercely. There was no chance of talking her way out of this situation, and what a foe it was she faced. She had no idea a skeleton — a Skeleton Lord , she realised — could ever be capable of inflicting such damage with just their hands. A straight fight seemed out of the question and she didn’t even know if the remaining crew of the Winter’s End would welcome her at their side after betraying their stealth.

Another gunshot rang out and pulled her from her thoughts. When she looked, she decided it must have been Graymarrow’s pistol that was fired for Arthur was currently stumbling backwards, holding his side and swearing loudly. Fisher chose to let go of her sword and take a swing at him with a fist. That certainly was… bold of her.

Feeling better now, she got back on her feet and Blue realised Hancock was nowhere to be seen. Another glance around the surroundings and she spotted him face-down in the sand, blood oozing from his back. He was either dead or near it; another body down made the situation all the more dire.

A noise rang out from the fight; if Blue didn’t know better, she would have said it was a keg going off, yet it sounded different. She looked just in time to see Fisher flying through the air away from Graymarrow before landing head-first.

The fight was between her and a way around the island. Rather than risk getting caught up in that, Blue went the other way, up a little more until she reached the great crack in the island. There was no safe way down into it from where she was. Stressed as she was, she only just recalled that there was a path into it back the way they came, but that was quite a distance. She started in that direction anyway. Across the crevice, over at a point that was higher than her side, she heard a noise. She gripped her weapons, ready for trouble, and then nearly dropped them.

“Z!”

“Hey!”

They looked at each other for a brief moment, still and silent as they confirmed that yes , both of them were alive and free. Somehow, Z managed to look rougher than she did.

Z started, “Hey, what’s—”

A blood-curdling scream cut him off. Jerking around towards the noise, Blue recoiled at the distant sight of Graymarrow’s hands on either side of Fisher’s head. Arthur was nowhere to be seen. She looked back to Z before she spotted any details.

“Are you whole?” she asked.

Holding his hands up, expression as though he was unsure of what she meant, Z then nodded. “Yea, I’m fine, what— holy shit , what is that?.”

Blue followed his gaze and nearly backed up and fell down the crack at the sight of Graymarrow climbing over the fence and facing them.

“Scared, are ya? Y’ should be!”

Rather than wait to be shot, Blue ran back up along the ravine. Hate was a strong word, but she decided it was apt, that she hated Graymarrow. Something so monstrous was deserving of no better.

Z had sprinted along the way on the other side. The ravine’s side came closer at a point, a rickety bridge built to bring the sides together. It was not in good condition, far from it, and barely looked sturdy enough to hold a single person on the best of days. This was far from it. Though Z beckoned her across, Blue took one good look at that bridge and decided that was simply not going to do. It was not strong enough with that force of nature trailing after her, she decided.

“No way.”

“What? Are you crazy?”

No, but she thought Z was.

A gunshot rang out and Blue heard the bullet speed by her head. She considered it, shook her head at Z one more time before turning around just in time to sight Graymarrow with a chest — no, a crate? — on his shoulder.

“Come out ‘n’ play, boys!”

Never, ever would Blue have expected a horde of skeletons to emerge from the ground at his command. That Skeleton Lords commanded lesser skeletons was something she had heard, one of the very few things she could recall hearing about them that didn’t seem entirely baseless, but never would she have expected that to be taken so literally.

The skeletons posed a problem. While they could normally be found in groups of about two to five, this was far more, so much more. Both she and Z cursed at what they saw moving towards them. Blue took off along the ravine again, just to put some distance between her and all the skeletons, and then had an idea come to her: the crew of the Winter’s End had arranged the arena to favour them. While certain aspects wouldn’t work in this one — hopefully, two — on-many-fight, there were still gunpowder kegs strewn about.

Dashing to it, Blue vaulted over a low part of the fence and scanned the area, forcing herself to ignore the sounds of fighting behind her. She moved forward, careful to not trip over anything. As she had expected, Graymarrow was following her, leaving his minions to Z. He’d be fine, she hoped.

Just as he had before, the Skeleton Lord climbed over the fence as though it were nothing. She waited…

“I can smell your fear.”

She sincerely doubted that but couldn’t quite find the words. Instead, Blue pulled the Eye of the Reach on her back into her grip, quickly aiming and shooting the keg nearest Graymarrow. She heard him grunt and as best she could tell, she had at least annoyed him. More annoyingly, the blast had detonated another keg that was just a little too close, but too far to inflict any damage to the skeleton. On the next shot, Blue aimed at his head.

With a wicked laugh, he said, “Is this your attempt to fight me? Y’ should’ve ran farther when you could!”

“Like the one worm did?” Blue asked with some disdain towards whoever that might be. Even as Graymarrow was closing the distance between them, she reloaded her musket and stood her ground. “I will not.” She fired again.

Being shot didn’t stop Graymarrow from laughing once more. “I like the style of your pluck. Not at all like hers. It’ll make wrenching your soul from your body all the more gratifyin’.”

With his focus on her, Blue could step back, controlling Graymarrow’s position, hopefully, more than he realised. Or perhaps it was that he just didn’t care; she wasn’t sure if she wanted to change that. She had backed up through the first threshold they had gone through, leading to a sloped, open area. On the outside of that wall was another keg. When he was right beside it, she fired and hit her mark. This blast was far more impactful, staggering him and setting his form alight.

What the lantern was for, she couldn’t deduce. She decided that his gesturing of slitting someone’s throat was particularly rude. Then he fell backwards and disappeared into the sand.

That was… more surprising than it ought to have been. What Blue was truly surprised by was his resurgence in a different location, the fire cleansed from his form. Her expression must have betrayed her.

“Ha, you don’t get it, do you? You can’t beat me. I’m stronger than you, and the strong prey upon the weak.”

Blue decided that Graymarrow truly was a monster.

Graymarrow closed the gap between them. She sized him up as he did this, finally drawing the sword she had been given. It was serviceable, nothing special, but that could change. It could become a sword worthy of a name. She needed that to happen on this fateful day.

He was just close enough that he felt he could shoot her with his blunderbuss. He had miscalculated and missed every pellet as she darted to the side and then at him. Blue never expected him to strike her with his other hand. The blow was stunning, landing squarely below her left eye. Refusing to fall, she instead stumbled back. That eye was starry for the moment that he laughed and she could already feel blood trickling down her face.

Blue was ready to try again when she paused, dumbstruck by what she saw. The sword that Graymarrow produced was ridiculous, larger in every direction than any she had ever seen — it was a beast of a weapon.

“I’ll hack you down where you stand…”

She could use a sword. She wasn’t bad at duel-wielding her dagger in her other hand when the fight was this close, either, if she liked. The musket was where her combat skills shined and she wasn’t bad with a pistol either. But fighting this with anything was crazy.

With great effort, Blue parried the first swing.

As spineless as she decided the previous crews had been, she was starting to understand it. She still didn’t respect it, didn’t think it was all right. Graymarrow acted as though this were a game; he wasn’t taking an ambush on his person seriously. He was a force to be reckoned with, and she wondered… How could anyone on the Sea of Thieves ever truly be free when this threat existed?

Another swing was parried; this one took extra effort and Blue stepped backwards, up the hill.

Such an onslaught was unsustainable. Serviceable as her skills with a blade were, she was no good in a contest of strength. Her dagger’s parrying hook would be useless against such a weapon, too. Placing both hands on the grip, she was able to properly block the next swing. It took an incredible amount of effort and Blue understood that she could only do that a few times before it exhausted her.

The other problem was Graymarrow’s steady encroachment. The movements he made with his sword lacked finesse, but then, with such power, he could fight anyhow he liked.

Another swing, another parry and she backed up more. They’d reach the top of the island in no time if he kept this up, and surely he could, giving her no opportunity to trade defence for offence.

One more parry and Blue was astonished to find herself looking up at Graymarrow entirely, having… tripped? No way she had made such a silly mistake in this situation. If she had still been on her feet, she would have been annoyed by his laugh this time; instead, she was horrified to see him raising his sword to bring it down upon her. One hand on the grip, another on the back of her sword, she raised it to stop the other’s swing from rending her in half. Instead, her sword snapped in half. Blue had also reflectively leaned to the side to protect her head so instead of landing there, Graymarrow’s blade embedded itself in her right shoulder.

What direction was up or down, where she was or what time it was didn’t exist — the only thing that existed was the pain that burst from her right shoulder, the impact reverberating through her entire form. The grey sky of the Wilds darkened until she saw nothing, her sight failing her. Panic then mingled with the explosion; she was vaguely aware of Graymarrow’s tainted presence, how he belittled her and laughed at the havoc he caused — was this to be it? Slain by a monster that should only have existed in stories? It would not even be a true death — no, something much worse. She could comprehend death, moving on to a new life or ceasing to be anything at all, but to still live and be trapped with nothingness…

With a furious roar, Z barrelled into Graymarrow, shoving the great skeleton aside. Horde or not, he had refused to yield to lesser skeletons. He had the wounds to show for such a fight, little cuts and scrapes and scratches everywhere — overall, though, he was in better shape than Blue was. This was now his fight and Z approached it with gusto, shoving Graymarrow off with another burst of energy.

Having stupefied him for the briefest of moments, Z took that opportunity to loose a shot from his blunderbuss into the Skeleton Lord, staggering him further. He reloaded with urgency and shot again. Ignoring the roar of rage, Z dashed back to Blue. He took one look at her and then gripped the upper arm that wasn’t injured — and was now holding the other in place — and pulled her to her feet. She didn’t scream this time — and he couldn’t have handled another one — but she fell to her knees. She wouldn’t be moving yet.

With the opportunity wasted, Z lunged for Graymarrow, their blades colliding with ferocious strength.

“I’ll hack you down where you stand, worm!”

Maybe Graymarrow was right to say that. No way could Z beat the skeleton in a contest of strength as he so often could. No, this required skill and footwork. This was an opponent like no other and while Z was thrilled by the notion of fighting someone stronger than him, even a Skeleton Lord, this was Graymarrow… !

“You two lookin’ to be cursed yerselves?”

He would get nowhere with this. While Z was able to dance around Graymarrow, he was unable to bring his sword into contact with the skeleton more than once; he had found an opening and it had been promptly closed. Blocking was also something he didn’t do — he’d seen Blue’s blade break. To make matters worse, he was quickly tiring.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something moving, something bright against the sand. With Graymarrow’s offensive, he wasn’t allowed another look.

A moment later and Blue was launching herself off a rock, dagger in her off-hand. She landed on Graymarrow's back, blade against his neck. He grunted and before he could do anything more, she twisted it, gave it a hard yank, and the Skeleton Lord’s skull came loose from a body that simply collapsed.

With a soft gasp, Z approached her. Before she could grip her injured arm with a dagger in her hand, he took it from her. That wound looked awful.

“Hey— C’mon, we gotta go.”

He made to grab her wrist and pull her along, but she stepped away from him and towards the pile of bones. Z was about to chastise her when he saw what she saw: a rectangular stone glowing red. Normally he would have been all for taking any treasure that was rightly earned, but they really needed to get out of there before the galleon’s crew had a chance to get back from the Ferry or more skeletons showed up.

“Now can we go?”

She looked dazed, not even looking directly at him as she nodded. Z put his hand on her back, shifted it to her good arm’s shoulder blade and hurried her along. They didn’t have far to go, just down the slope and through a lookout point and they were at the Forlorn Phoenix . There was another path that Z had taken instead and he mentally cursed his ill luck. If he had been able to get there sooner, maybe neither of them would be so injured.

For once, nearly beaching his vessel worked in his favour. No way could Blue climb the ladder, but the water was so shallow they could walk right up to the side of the sloop. With him helping by pushing her up, she was able to climb onto the main-deck. He climbed up after her.

“All right, we—”

Finally able to breathe for a moment, Z stopped and really looked at his shipmate, blood dripping off her limp hand. No, it was no mere cut on her shoulder — her shoulder had been cut through . He almost asked out loud how she wasn’t dead.

Hand on her back again and the other taking her good arm into possession, he led her to the mid-deck with a gentle, “C’mere.” He got her settled in the chair by the desk and considered the next move. Before he could ponder more, Blue attempted to stand and he stopped her.

“What, sit—”

“The books.”

She was not worried about some scribblings on paper. He would have scolded her for this, but Blue was insistent.

“All right, fine.” He finally got her to sit still. “What am I lookin’ for?”

“Three… in the cabin,” she said weakly and he had to consider that for a moment.

“Cabin… The galleon’s cabin?” He just barely heard the ‘mhmm’ from her and he sighed. “Fine. You stay right there and don’t move,” he warned before disembarking.

Getting back to the top of the island was easy enough. Thankfully, there was still a trail of footprints he could find to follow back to the galleon, smoke now emitting from it. Considering Blue’s insistence on this, he was glad he hadn’t been able to find any sizeable amounts of gunpowder to properly blow it apart with, though not for why.

As he entered the captain’s cabin, Z immediately spotted three books on the table. Surely that was what he was looking for. He scooped them up and held them over his head before hopping into the shallow water and making his way back.

On the sloop, Blue was still sitting where he had left her, but she looked far worse. He didn’t even think she was conscious until she lifted her head to look at him.

Setting the books on the far side of the table, he told her, “Jus’ sit still.” Then he made his way to the hold. Blue had large scraps of sailcloth, for whatever reason he wasn’t sure, and there was that entire sail folded up down there, but the scraps would suffice.

Bringing the first scrap up, he folded it neatly into a line and laid it down on the floor beside the chair, avoiding the pooling blood. Blue wasn’t even paying attention, but that was fine. Z collected a smaller piece of scrap and brought it down on her shoulder to hopefully stymie the bleeding. He grit his teeth as she sucked a breath in and stifled a stronger response. He hushed her gently before putting his arms around her so he could lie her down on the other scrap. Once situated right, he pulled it across her chest and tied it so that it pulled her shoulder together and kept a constant pressure on it, something she was no longer able to do herself. Blue was looking a little better, though. That was right — lying someone down when they were bleeding like this helped.

Patting her uninjured arm, he gave her a gentle nudge until she looked at him. “Stay awake.” Then he stood back up so he could go back down into the hold. The next order of business was a pineapple. Maybe two? Injuries like this were not common in the Sea of Thieves, and when they did happen, people usually died. Hell, the last time he had dealt with a wound like this, he’d died shortly after. Or maybe that was still worse than this was. Whatever the case, Z made his way back to his shipmate and placed the fruit in her good hand.

“Eat,” he insisted. He didn’t wait and babysit her, instead having decided that they needed to get moving. If the galleon crew was allowed a speedy return, he wanted to be nowhere near them. Then again, with the Code…

Glancing at the map, Z considered where to go besides away . Marauder’s Arch was out of the question; Sunken Grove had gotten them into this situation; the outposts… Galleon’s Grave was far too far away, but Dagger Tooth was fairly close. The wind was on their side and the current wouldn’t fight them, and surely someone there would be able to aid Blue. Z’s ungraceful touch would do her no good in her state. No, this seemed as good a plan as any.

He spared a glance to his injured crewmate before hurrying upstairs to the quarter-deck.

Notes:

Rare usually uses UK spelling and stuff but they used the American spelling for imposter/impostor and that makes me itch uncomfortably. Graymarrow should probably be Greymarrow, too, but I digress.

This chapter was one of those chapters, one that came to me early on in the planning of the series and influenced a ton of it. I’m quite happy with how it came out.

Also, forgot to update before AO3 did its maintenance and then I had to fight a ton with the Error 500 page a bit. derp.

Chapter 30: A Fruitful Endeavour

Summary:

While they recover from their encounter with the Winter’s End and a Skeleton Lord, Z and Blue learn a bit more about what that ship’s crew was up to.

Knelt against the cot with his upper body resting on it, Z stirred slightly. He felt her hand move a little and that made him open his eyes, inspecting Blue for any signs of consciousness once more. While she had been out for a very long time at this point, he only slept because he couldn’t stay awake any more.

Z did not do well in captivity. Having been tied to the post in the bottom of the Forlorn Phoenix and watched closely by a rotating crew of people from the now-sunk Winter’s End , he hadn’t slept much in the last, what was it? Two days? Three? He wasn’t sure anymore. He hadn’t eaten anything, either, sustained by rage. Yet, just as he had pointed out so long ago and as Joseph had pointed out recently, a regular diet of meat made a pirate especially resilient. That must have been why Blue was still alive and why the worst of his own wounds had already faded into mere annoyances.

The two of them having each had half a pineapple probably didn’t hurt, either. With a lot of insistence, Z had managed to get her to nibble consistently at the bottom half of the fruit after agreeing to the other half. He still wasn’t sure if the concern from her when she was in such a state was endearing or something to be concerned about.

Whatever the case, they were both doing better now. The presence of the Winding Serpent at Dagger Tooth Outpost had been most fortuitous. Z had only encountered one previous vessel whose mission was to aid others that was bolstered by ferrying a doctor around, but this one was specialised in it. Favouring speed over firepower, she only bore two cannons per side and carried just enough armaments to defend itself from the natural forces encountered within the Sea of Thieves. She relied quite a lot on being known as a friendly vessel, though that had resulted in it being robbed a few times of valuable medical supplies. Still, even Z had known of its existence through the occasional rumour in the taverns. To be so lucky…

Well, lucky enough, it seemed. The Winding Serpent had meant to leave the outpost that day, but its crew had been interested in potentially trading with them once their little sloop had been spotted heading their way. Blue’s condition had solidified their continued presence.

He could hear Joseph down the way at the other end of the galleon’s hold. A pirate without a ship had complained of some ailment that the doctor agreed to tend to — it wasn’t any of Z’s business so long as that lone pirate didn’t bother them or cause a ruckus.

After shifting some, he got as comfortable as he could. He bent his knees and pulled them close to his body, his arms crossed and resting on the side of the cot as a makeshift pillow for his weary head. Blue’s left hand was underneath his own, the only thing besides her head that wasn’t underneath the thick blanket. It was just when Z was about asleep again that he felt her move again. There was a mix of concern and ever-so-slight annoyance until she jerked her hand away from him, moving to sit up on her elbows. With the other arm bandaged against her side and its injury, this wouldn’t go well so Z moved as fast as she did, standing so he could lean forward, get his arms around her and support her in her upright position. He felt her shudder.

“Graymarrow—”

“Dead. Y’ killed him. That gally’s sunk, too. Y’re safe here.”

He was thankful she trusted him and immediately relaxed, if for a moment. Then she tensed up and groaned, wincing and sucking in a breath. Slowly, he laid her back down against the pair of pillows that supported her shoulder, pulling the blanket back over her.

“The Winter’s End is sunk?” she asked, voice barely a whisper. She hadn’t bothered to open her eyes again.

“Crew and ship both’re dead far as I can tell,” Z said as he knelt back down.

She gave him a soft ‘hm’ in response. Her free arm came up to her face and she rested the back of her forearm across her forehead.

“We’re on the Winding Serpent at Dagger Tooth.” As he said that, Joseph turned to look over at them. Z waved him over as he spoke. “It’s a hospital ship or somethin’ like that. Right place, right time.”

Blue grunted a response that made him think she didn’t appreciate this. He didn’t blame her; he wouldn’t have been much of a conversationalist in her position either.

“Finally awake then?” the old man asked rhetorically as he came to a stop beside them. Blue only grunted another response. He turned to Z. “Fetch her a change of clothes, would you?”

He nodded to that. He gave Blue’s knee a gentle pat as he stood and headed up all the stairs of the galleon. This was something he had considered for a while at one point while trying to get to sleep. Between being cut and stained in blood, that set of clothing Blue had been wearing was about as good as scrap and had to be removed by the crew when he brought her to them. It might not have been a total loss so he’d stashed them in the bottom of the barrel of rusted swords that he was overly thankful for now. Without that, he might not have been able to free himself, and if that had been the case… well, Graymarrow would probably still be kicking around instead of them.

As for something for her to wear now, Z already knew what he would grab: whatever came up first for bottoms, boots that slipped on easily, and a roomy jacket. The first two were easy enough to find, but most of the jackets Blue owned fit her rather well and he didn’t have any of his own. It was near the bottom of the clothing chest that he finally found what he was looking for. This jacket didn’t seem like it was hers, but it would work nonetheless.

With an armload of clothes and a set of boots, Z was back on the galleon. He passed the doctor’s granddaughter on the way and they exchanged polite nods, and then he passed by the lone pirate on the mid-deck. Joseph was still standing beside Blue’s cot on the lowest deck, explaining something about a small glass bottle he held. She somehow looked even less enthused than she did before he left. The doctor looked glad Z was back and willing to listen.

“For the pain,” he explained, holding the bottle up. “A sip every quarter of the day, no more than every eighth. Oh, and don’t be surprised if it makes her sleep. That’s also good for the body.”

“Uh huh.” He took the bottle, gave it a little shake to better see the semi-opaque liquid, then pocketed it. They both looked back to Blue, who hadn’t moved, then back to each other. Joseph nodded to him before stepping around him and heading up the stairs.

“All right,” Z started as he sat on the edge of the bed by her legs. She finally moved to look at him. “Y’ want me t’ help y’ get dressed or should I go find—”

“You.”

Well, that surprised him.

“Sure. Uh…” He looked around, not entirely sure what to do as he hadn’t expected that. She had barely moved… ah!

“All right, first order’a business is gettin’ you t’ sit up,” he said.

She grunted meekly and he took that as an indication to get started. After setting the clothing down, he scooted closer. Taking her good arm’s hand in his and placing the other hand behind that shoulder, Z counted to three and then pulled her forward. That had hurt her but at this point, he wasn’t sure what wouldn’t. He also made sure to keep that blanket in place to limit her bickering.

When certain she was steady, he took his hand off her back, considerably glad to have thick gloves on. She hadn’t let go of his hand yet, but that was fine.

Taking the pain reliever out of his pocket, he said, “Now this.” Blue finally opened her eyes to look. “Y’ heard what he said, right? So, a little sip. I still gotta get you back on our own damn ship.”

There was just the slightest twitch at the corner of her mouth. “Fine.”

He pulled the cork and she took the bottle from him. As agreed, she took the tiniest of sips from it, her face momentarily contorting in disgust. When it was passed back to him, Z gave the mouth of the bottle a sniff and made a similar face. He stuffed the cork back into the top and settled it in his pocket.

“Jacket first. Ready?”

She gave him a small nod and that was good enough for him. He twisted around to grab the jacket and ready it for her to slip her good arm through. When the blanket fell, he hadn’t looked , but just as he brought it across her shoulders, he stopped. There were only faint spots where blood had seeped through the bandaging of her shoulder, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. Rather, he was unable to help staring at the swathe of scars decorating her torso in the bright lamp-light. They were all much more minor than what she had just gone through, anything was, but there were so many…

Z did his best to ignore the ache in his heart as he pulled all the buttons together for her.

There was a similar story going on with her legs but again he did his best to ignore them. By the time they got to the boots, Blue was a little more lively and was able to slip her feet into them on her own.

“Y’ feelin’ better?” he asked, hopeful. She just looked at him with disappointment in her eyes.

Footsteps from the stairs caught their attention and they turned to look at Joseph and his granddaughter Kareah coming their way. The girl was tall, approaching the first years of womanhood, and she was busier than anyone else on the ship. When Z had first brought Blue to them, they had shooed him away and he watched her go from the lower decks to the cabin at least fifteen times.

Blue’s expression was impassive as they came to stand before them. The girl gave them a small wave and Z nodded to them.

“You look better,” Joseph said. “Get a bit of food in your belly and you ought to be as spry as you were before that little scuffle you had.”

Blue looked to Z with just the movement of her eyes.

“Anywho, your recovery time is good. A skeleton fleet has appeared and we will be needed to tend to the wounded there.”

“Is this yer way’a politely kickin’ us out?” Z said in jest.

With a small laugh, Kareah nodded to them. Her grandfather allowed himself a similar laugh.

“I’m afraid so. As it is, we’ve done all that we can. The rest is up to you two,” he said. He pointed at Z; “Though, I reckon you will be back to 100% by tonight.” He looked at Blue. “Good news for you, eh?”

Blue was still distant, but she at least forced a small, “Ha.”

Standing, Z shook the man’s hand. “If there’s anythin’ I can do for you…”

“All I ask of all my patients is an amount of gold they can afford or think is fair for my service.”

Z paused, considering that. After a moment’s thought, he produced the purse from their last pay and forced half of it into Joseph’s palm. The doctor paled slightly at the weight of the coins.

“Fair’s fair?”

Joseph took a moment to look from his hand to Z. “Fair is fair.”

Z nodded and looked to Blue. She looked back.

“We’ll be gettin’ out’a yer hair now.”

She stood on her own and nodded once in agreement, freezing and wincing. Z quelled the pity that he felt — that would do them no good right now — and walked with her up to the galleon’s main-deck. She walked with a limp, slow enough that he was surprised she didn’t swallow her pride and ask him to carry her. He almost did so without prompting, but by then they were on the dock of Dagger Tooth being seen off by the whole crew. The two of them, mostly Z, exchanged waves and other pleasantries with the crew as they left. They watched the galleon sail away for a small while before Blue made a noise of curiosity.

“What?”

Her voice was slow and quiet. “That… island?” She pointed to the southwest, at the giant uncharted island. “There, on those rocks, are buildings. They were not there before.”

Z looked. “… huh.” They looked at each other for a moment. He shook his head and she seemed to agree — no, they would not be investigating that.

With the Forlorn Phoenix pulled up against the dock, it was easy even for Blue to get back aboard the sloop. Z stayed with her as she made her way to the desk, sitting carefully. He took a spot on the corner of the table.

Unsurprisingly, Blue’s attention went to the three books that had been set there. She lifted each one with her operational hand, looking at the covers before setting them down; then she looked at him.

“You can’t read, can you?”

Z blinked at the suddenness of her words. “Uh, no,” he said more sheepishly than he expected.

“Thought so.”

She pulled one close to the edge of the desk and opened it to its first page. She did that with the other two, flipping through more pages.

“One of these belonged to… Captain Eli Slate. Of the Morningstar .”

“Wait, Morningstar ? Isn’t that the wreck we found at Boulder Cay?”

“Yes. They scuttled her themselves.” Z stared at her. Blue slowly took a deep breath. “They scuttled their own ship… in an attempt to hide from Graymarrow. They were hunted down.” She flipped a few pages forward and turned the book towards him.

Z understood that drawing: it was a bounty on the crew of the Morningstar . No wonder they scuttled their ship.

“But they just delayed their deaths, didn’t they?”

Z nodded. “Did you already read these?” he asked.

“No, Garrett told me.”

“Garrett?”

“The big one with the beard and fancy clothes. He…” She was quiet for a long moment. “He was the only member of the crew to realise the… the… severity of what they were doing and it tore him up. He warned me about Graymarrow.”

“But he didn’t stop it.”

“But he did not stop it…”

Z shook his head.

“He told me only as much as he thought was safe to. And in case of this exact situation, he asked me to retrieve these books. They do have information in them… Good information. Who knew skeletons had a written language of their own?”

Z shrugged at that. Then Blue paused, looking as though she had realised something.

“What?”

“Graymarrow hunted them for their Shroudbreaker stone, it says… A stone. Is that—”

Z stood, saying, “I hid that red stone in the wood barrel. Think that’s it?” He started to the hold.

“I do.”

With a little effort, Z reached through all the planks and recovered the item in question. He held it out for her to take.

“This is very peculiar…” Blue said. “I have never seen anything like it.”

Z eyed the stone as hard as Blue did. “So…?”

“I have no idea what we’re to do with it.”

“Me neither.”

She sighed. Z looked at her with a scrutinising eye.

“Y’ sure y’re up t’ lookin’ through all this?”

She sighed again, groaning as she had just started to try shaking her head. “I still hurt. I’m tired, hungry, thirsty, I—” She groaned again.

“You want a fish?”

She looked at him.

“I don’t do it all the time but I can fish.”

“Why didn’t you—”

“I don’t like t’.”

Blue scowled at him. He wasn’t sure what that was about, but…

“I’m, uh, I’m gonna go—”

“A mango will suffice.”

“Y’ sure?”

“I do not want to be up that much long— ah.” She looked at him for a long moment, then to her injured shoulder as well as she could. “I… cannot sleep on the canvas—”

“So y’ll sleep in the bed. I’ll figure somethin’ out for meself.”

Blue looked like she wanted to argue but refrained. “Fine.”

Z nodded to her before turning and heading back to the hold once more. He had hidden her dagger there as well; such a pretty thing would also be a target for thieves. Retrieving that, he then found a mango that wasn’t too soft, as well as a plain knife. When he returned to Blue, she was inspecting the Shroudbreaker stone again.

Gently taking it away, he placed the mango and knife in her hand. “This can wait. Eatin’ can’t.”

“Mm.”

Blue was still for an embarrassingly long moment before he flinched. “Ah, fuck, you can’t—”

“No.”

“I’m sorry.”

Instead of trying that again, Z placed everything on the table in front of her. He took the knife and fruit into his own hands and worked on cutting the mango into neat enough slices.

“Where was this?” Blue asked, referring to her dagger.

“I hid it, too. It’s awfully nice and y’ seem t’ like it a lot.”

“Ah.” She rolled it in her fingers, then, “Thank you.”

Z simply nodded and handed her the first slice of mango. She accepted it and eagerly stripped the fruit’s flesh from the skin. A comfortable silence fell between them as she ate. Z kept the second to last slice to himself, knowing she would scold him otherwise. He found that it only made him aware of his ravenous hunger.

Even after fighting a Skeleton Lord and coming out of it with — fresh — battle scars, Blue was dainty in some ways. She had been so careful about how she ate the mango that she didn’t dirty her hand and she took advantage of this, pulling a book close. She looked at one page before sighing.

“I am— tired.”

“Need help gettin’ t’ the bed?”

“I can walk. … slowly.”

Z watched her get to her feet and curiosity got the better of him.

“Why are you limpin’?”

She sighed and he regretted opening his mouth. Before he could do it again, Blue obliged him.

“Graymarrow…” She felt her right hip before speaking. “He dug his fingers into my hip and picked me up.”

“Wha—” That didn’t sound right. Z tried and failed to picture this in his mind, not that he was any good at that in the first place. “… I’m not sure I get it? Y’ mean, with one hand, he grabbed you by the waist and just picked you up?” he asked slowly.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” He blinked.

With that out of the way, Blue made her way down to the bed. Z followed and watched as she sat on the edge, kicking her boots off.

“Do y’ need anythin’?” he asked as he watched her move into the middle of the bed and turn.

“I can think of nothing. Just… let me sleep.”

“That I can do,” he said.

Z lingered until he was certain Blue was comfortable. It was awkward for her to kick the blanket out from under herself so she could grab it and lie down, but she managed and seemed comfortable enough. He doused the lantern in the hold and before he stepped away, Z said, “Jus’ holler if y’ need anythin’.” The grunt she gave him was enough to get him to skedaddle.

Unsure of what exactly to do with himself, Z sat in the desk’s chair. He could lean back and get some sleep, he supposed — he wasn’t going to bother with food now that Blue was downstairs and he definitely wasn’t eating raw fish.

She had left the books open on the table. He pushed them away from the corner he was going to put his foot up on when a page made him pause. On both sides were markings that he knew the meanings to. Below them were what he knew to be words, though not what they said. That was… peculiar.

After removing his pegleg, Z leaned back in the chair and considered the thought no more, letting sleep take him.

*

Z had no idea how long he had been asleep. Something startled him awake but when he looked around, there was nothing in the darkness. The sun would be up soon but he wasn’t about the wait that long. After attaching his pegleg, he stood, scanning the area again. He made his way to the main-deck and then the quarter-deck. Still, he found nothing amiss.

The outpost was slowly rousing alongside the sun. Could he have heard a resident? The shipless pirate from yesterday? Something woke him and Z was bound and determined to figure out what it was.

Back at the desk, he sat and took a breath. He thought and then checked behind the map table — that was clear. He made his way to the stairs to the hold and quietly went down those. Blue was awake and sat up. She looked rattled.

“You heard it, too?”

“Heard what?”

He stared for a moment before shaking his head. “Nothin’. How’d y’ sleep?”

“Well enough.”

“Breakfast in the tavern?” he suggested.

Blue made a face. The Dagger Tooth tavern was wanting for… well, everything, but…

“I suppose that will do… means neither of us have to cook…”

He nodded. She sounded rough and then he paused to produce the bottle of pain reliever. He simply passed it to her and was somewhat surprised that she limited herself to another tiny sip. She passed it back, he corked it and then let it rest on the bed. Apparently, his expression showed his thoughts.

“I am tired of sleeping. I am ravenous .”

Blue moved a little better this morning. As the pain’s grip on her weakened, she moved that much better. Her voice was more normal, too, if still a little weak. The empty sleeve hanging by her side still made him feel queasy.

Breakfast was serviceable, but it may as well have been a meal fit for a king with how hungry the two of them were. They agreed to split a third plate of food.

“Is she always like this?” Blue asked suddenly. She gestured to Teri the innkeeper behind the counter — fully behind the counter, hopefully just sat on the floor — when he looked confused.

“… Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever been here and seen her sober.”

“… huh.”

“Yeah. Uh… so how d’ ya feel?”

Blue scowled at him.

“What?”

“I don’t like thinking about it.” She must have been very uncomfortable to be talking that way.

“Y-yeah. I… but…?”

Blue sighed. “Better. But…” She didn’t seem to know what to say, dropping her fork and putting her hand on her damaged shoulder. “I… hm.”

“It’ll heal.”

She gave him an intense look. “How can you be so sure? You… You did not hear them. You did not hear them while they pulled my arm back together.” She pressed down slightly, tracing an indent in her shoulder.

Z thought he had an idea of what she was thinking. “Injuries like that — sometimes the Ferry just… doesn’t fix it.”

“So it was this or no arm at all?”

He wasn’t sure what ‘this’ meant but nodded nonetheless. “Yeah, but y’ll be fine, I promise.”

The way she stared at him, Z wasn’t sure if it was the pain souring her mood or if she truly didn’t believe him. He hoped she did, though.

*

It had been quiet, and then: “We’re here!”

Z, laying in the bed and stretching out, jerked upright. What the hell was she… “What?”

“We’re here. Right here!”

He got up and made his way to the desk where Blue sat.

“So I think I was asleep, so I’m gonna need y’ t’—”

She held the Shroudbreaker stone up.

“… what about it?”

“Sandra, the shipwright here. She sent them on that mission.”

“… oh.”

Blue got to her feet, stone in hand. He gave her a look and she spoke quickly, “I intend to find out just what she thought was going to happen.” She stepped past him.

Dumbstruck, Z stood there for a moment, wondering just what the hell had happened. Rather than wonder more, he moved to follow Blue, who was now walking up the dock.

“Y’ just plan on talkin’ t’ her ‘bout— ‘bout, uh, well—”

“Yes.”

Considering her state… “Y’re a real hot-head sometimes, y’know that?”

“It gets results,” she said simply before going up the steps to the shipwright’s post.

Sandra looked up from the piece of metal she was working and shock took her friendly demeanour away the moment she laid eyes on the Shroudbreaker stone in Blue’s hand.

“Oh! Is it true? Did you really destroy Graymarrow?”

Apparently, word got around. Z would probably have to explain that to his crewmate later.

“Am I finally free of him?”

They looked at each other; What? Then Z nodded to Sandra. She held a hand out and Blue gave her the stone.

“You have no idea how good it feels to hear that. And if you’re the ones who vanquished Graymarrow and retrieved the stone, then that means the other crew wasn’t so lucky?”

Z nodded again.

“That’s a shame. The truth, though, is that I was Jill, the one who jumped overboard rather than face Graymarrow. After that, I gave up my name and my old life to hide from him. I tell everyone I’m building a ship to fight a kraken, but… the truth is, it’s so I could escape if he ever found me again.”

She was good at hiding it, but Z knew her well enough to see that Blue was fuming under her facade.

“I always wondered…. could I have made a difference if I’d stayed and fought alongside the others? I’ll always carry that regret, and maybe that’s what I deserve. But I’ll sleep a little easier now I know the others have been set free.

“Y’know, I’m glad someone’s picking up where we left off and aiming for the Shores of Gold. I’ll clean up this piece and pass it along. When you’re seaworthy again, you should speak to the only pirate who ever used the Shroudbreaker and lived to tell the tale… You’ll find her at Morrow’s Peak.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

They exchanged nods and the shipwright sent them off with a polite, “Good luck!”

The walk back to the ship was a quiet one. Z wasn’t sure if he should touch her or say anything, but he had never seen Blue quite like this. When she returned to the chair and stared at nothing, he could hold his tongue no longer.

“You all right?”

“… I cannot fathom being so cowardly.”

He wasn’t sure of what to make of that.

She looked back to the books, saying, “It is beside the point anyhow.” Leaning forward, Blue pulled one close. “The Winter’s End was part of an alliance. Was. From what Garrett recorded in this book, three galleons were working together to restore something called the Shroudbreaker so they could reach the Shores of Gold. I thought that was just another tall tale, but I suppose not.

“They took the task of fighting Graymarrow from a ship called the Mild Mannered Marauder . They also took any supplies worth taking from it before they left.”

“And the third ship?” Z asked.

“That ship is the Octavia . Apparently they are the ones that formed this alliance in the first place. I have only skimmed the earlier pages, but it seems this alliance was very busy.”

“Three of them restoring a Shroudbreaker,” he mumbled. Blue looked at him and Z stood upright. “How many stones were there?”

“I believe four.”

“All right.” Z brought a hand up to his chin. He needed to shave. “Can you quickly read all three books?”

She side-eyed him. “I can… Shall we make for the Devil’s Roar?”

“What?”

Blue blinked at him. “Shall we go to Morrow’s Peak—”

“You don’t really intend on continuin’ that voyage of theirs, do you?”

“Why not? We helped. Not on purpose… but still.”

Z recoiled. She wasn’t wrong. This voyage had involved them in fighting a Skeleton Lord, and the point of that was to reach the Shores of Gold… The Shores of Gold!

“You know what… that’s not the worst idea. Y’ should heal up pretty quick. I’ll swing us southeast while you read? We’ll make good time with the wind on our back,” he said.

“Plot a course so we can stop occasionally. That medicine is making me very tired, and the good doctor did tell us to rest…”

“Fine, fine.”

Chapter 31: Pushing Onward

Summary:

They say that time heals all wounds, but not how quickly or slowly that may be. And to say nothing of the abhorrent state of Z’s clothes!

There must have been a word for this feeling. They were stopped at Shipwreck Bay just like they had been so many weeks ago, observing a storm of questionable origin. Z felt quite peculiar about it all.

More curious was the question of whether or not the storm was a new one the one they had avoided just a few days ago. When he had asked Blue what she thought, she tried to shrug and hurt herself. Again. That was becoming annoyingly common. Moving her shoulder or neck in particular ways aggravated her injury. He felt rather particular about that, too.

“So what’s the plan if that storm comes our way?” Z asked without taking his eyes off the flag as it flapped about in the wind.

“Then we will weather it,” Blue said simply without looking up from the book she was going through.

That was a little annoying. Storms were cold and he hated being cold. With her in the bed, he supposed he would have to get that hammock of hers out if he wanted to curl up under some blankets properly. Or… no.

“Hey, y’ think y’ can sleep in yer hammock?”

She considered the idea before nearly shaking her head. “No. And it is too tight — you will not fit in it, either.”

He grit his teeth. “So what am I supposed t’ do t’ stay warm?”

She paused. “Put yourself in a corner with a pile of blankets?” she suggested.

Z held his tongue; this was all theoretical anyway.

*

Early in the night, Z bumped his head on the desk. He had grabbed three blankets and strewn two over himself and used the final one as a pillow before curling up underneath the table. Now he was trying to sit up, certain that he had heard something. The bump slowed his movements, though he refused to make any more noise, certain that he had heard something.

He sat there for a very long time, listening to the gentle lapping of calm island waters before relaxing slightly. Had there been anyone, they would have made themselves known by now. Perhaps it was an animal? Unconvinced that they were totally alone, Z pulled his pegleg out from underneath the blankets, attached it, and was up on his feet.

There was nothing to sight on the upper decks of the ship. He also spotted nothing around them, not in the water nor on land. When he checked down low, Blue was still asleep, though it looked like she was having a rough time at it.

They were totally and utterly alone.

Perplexed, Z returned to the desk and sat in the chair, scratching at the back of his head. He thumbed at the scar hidden in his hair as he contemplated what it might have been that woke him. Sitting there for a short while, he decided to get comfortable. It was too warm with all those blankets anyway — he was sure the storm would pass them by. The night was young still and sleep called to him.

*

It was raining when he woke. Not a hard rain, but a sturdy enough rain that told him they wouldn’t be going anywhere.

Looking out the back of the sloop, Z thought about that for a moment. The weather wasn’t too bad. A little rain wasn’t going to capsize a sloop, but Blue was likely still in no condition to be doing much.

Nope, they were stuck here again.

Unlike last time, Blue wasn’t at the half-wall fishing. As he hadn’t been scolded for sleeping with his pegleg attached, he took that to mean that she wasn’t even up yet. Or at least, she hadn’t gotten out of bed and inspected anything. His stomach grumbled quietly and he forced himself to his feet. He could check on her while he heated a fish for breakfast.

Just as he thought, his crewmate was laid back in bed; she still looked uncomfortable. She looked even more so when he heard her shift and turned his attention away from the stove to greet her. She was simply staring up at the ceiling and that made him stay his tongue for a long moment.

“Y’ hungry?”

She grumbled a little, then, “I will eat whatever you don’t.”

“Err—” He caught himself and decided he could just save her half.

“The storm came our way,” he said after a moment of silence.

“So I hear.”

Even for Blue, she was being particularly curt. Z did his best to not take it personally, though that also brought his curiosity to the forefront of his mind.

“How y’ feelin’?”

She was still for so long that he thought she was just going to ignore him, and then she shifted and produced the bottle of pain reliever from under the blanket in her left hand. She sat up and used her teeth to uncork it.

“Not great, I take it.”

“Awful,” she said.

After taking a large sip, she grabbed the cork with her fingertips and handed it and the bottle to Z. Then she started unbuttoning the jacket she had been wearing. He wasn’t sure if he should help or give her some privacy or what so he turned his attention back to the stove.

“Where is this tied?” she asked, fiddling with the bandaging that still held her right arm stable.

“Uh, left side, I think,” he said, not too certain. That would explain why she couldn’t find a way to get it off.

With the fish heated, Z took it out of the pan and set it beside it, turning his attention to Blue. She looked frustrated.

“… d’ya want some help gettin’ that off?”

She turned to face him. “… please.”

He wasn’t sure that he would ever get used to her just sitting there without a shirt on. In fact, he rather hoped that she didn’t make a habit of this. It was such a contrast to how she had been, and the scars…

Removing the bandaging — which Z now recognised as the spare sailcloth cut into straight lines — was not too time-consuming. There was a huge line of stitching that went from her upper back over her indented shoulder and into her chest. No wonder she was in so much pain.

Slowly, carefully, she moved her arm. The movements were deliberate and safe — she did nothing that caused any more visible pain than a mild wince. The range of motion she had was deplorable, but the arm was still somewhat usable.

Before he could say anything, Blue was on her feet. She stepped over to the clothing chest, knelt on one knee and rifled through it. She mostly used her left hand, though it was a little awkward — she was very clearly right-handed. This task was not so difficult that he offered to help; instead, Z grabbed the fish and sat at the foot of the bed, busying himself by pulling it apart.

By the time Blue was done, he had finished eating his part of the fish. She had picked out a vest, which she managed to get into on her own. Such a task posed quite a bit of difficulty for her, but she had it done and over with before he could do anything about it. He wondered if she intended to wear it as is despite the scars that were still visible when she stood, a new jacket in hand. It was a better fit for her than the previous one.

Rather than it being about the scars, it was probably about the chilly weather, Z realised. He felt dumb for focusing on those so much.

“I suppose these can go,” she said, turning to him. It took her poking at the stitches on her face for him to realise what she meant. “Are yours ready to come out as well?”

“Uh—” Z felt at the largest injury he had sustained, a slash to his upper arm. It barely complained at his touch. “Probably. Here.” He held out her part of the fish. “Y’ should eat first.”

Blue managed to down about half of her portion in one go before turning back around. A small wooden case was retrieved from the equipment chest, the box that Z recalled held materials to fix wounds with. Then she disappeared up the stairs. He followed her up to the desk and was unsurprised to see that her fish was gone, but it still shocked him to see her eat like that, so used to her timid nibbling.

“Sit,” she commanded.

Ignoring an overwhelming sense of déjà vu, Z did as told. Rather than remove his shirt, he simply pulled the neck down his arm to reveal a modest cut that had been closed up.

“It’s jus’ this an’ one on my good leg.”

Blue side-eyed him. “Just that?”

“Everything else healed on its own.”

“… ah.”

Somehow, he felt bad about that.

With her dagger in hand now and a set of tweezers in the other, she started on removing the material from his arm, whatever it might have been. He recalled that she used silk. This seemed thicker.

Now probably wasn’t the best time to ask, but the thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Is it jus’ yer shoulder that hurts?”

Blue paused and eyed him again. Annoying her when she had a knife wasn’t one of his best ideas, but thankfully she was more docile towards him nowadays.

“Mostly… my face still hurts, and my hip complains every time I put my full weight on that leg,” she replied as she worked, her movements slow. “They send out a wave of pain with every beat of my heart. The cheek is not so bad, the shoulder… it rumbles my core, even with the remedy.”

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out.

“Nothing to be done about it now.”

That was true, but it didn’t mean he had to like it.

Before he could say anything more, she asked, “Do you still have the other set of clothes you were wearing?”

“The torn up ones?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, they’re in another chest in the hold. So’s yer white outfit; I wasn’t sure if I should toss it or not.”

That caught her attention and Blue paused in her work to consider it. “Why?”

“Why save it?” he asked. When she nodded, he shrugged the other arm. “I jus’ didn’t know if y’d want to keep it or not. Seems most’a what y’ wear is somethin’ y’ made, and y’ got all those silks still… I jus’ thought—”

“You needn’t defend your decision, I was only curious.”

That relaxed him.

With the pricking sensation of his arm having come to a close, he looked over again, surprised she was finished already. He fixed his shirt before he brought his leg up, set his foot on the corner of the desk, and pulled his pant leg up. The cut to his shin had been less problematic than the one on his arm, but the doctor had insisted on closing it nonetheless.

“I can fix your clothes,” Blue said as she started. “It is two simple cuts, correct?”

“Two big ones and a bunch’a little ones.” She made a small noise of acknowledgement. After that, Z asked, “What about yer stitches? Y’ want me t’ take ‘em out?”

She sighed. “May as well.”

He got the feeling that he was annoying her, but how eluded him. Uncertain of the mood between them, he stayed quiet as she worked. Removing the stitches from his leg took little time. He adjusted his clothes before standing up so Blue could take his place. She then passed the tools to his hands.

“You will want to find the end with the knot—”

“I know how t’ take ‘em out,” Z interjected. “It’s puttin’ ‘em in that I’m not so good at,” he said with a chuckle. It made him feel better, but Blue’s expression was still impassive. He continued: “Y’ said yer face doesn’t hurt as much?”

“It is a deep pain,” she said. When he clearly wasn’t sure by what she meant, she added: “Don’t press down and it will be tolerable.”

“Understood.”

There were two wounds on her face: the biggest one was a line going from the outside edge of her eye down and inward to the top of her lip; the other was a smaller cut closer to her nose. She closed her eyes as he started on the smaller one first.

“Can I ask a question?”

Blue sighed but stayed still. “What is it?”

“How did… how did… this … happen?” Z asked pensively.

“He hit me.”

“… he hit you?”

“Yes.”

“With…?”

“His hand.”

“He what now?”

Blue cracked her closest eye open to give him an unimpressed look. “Graymarrow hit me . With his hand. And before you ask, I do not remember if it was a fist or not.”

“Sorry. It’s jus’, this looks like a scratch’a some sort more than anythin’ else.”

She was quiet for a moment, then: “I do wonder… I wonder if he hit me so hard he simply… pulled everything apart.”

Z paused to stare at her. What strength it would take to do that. “Did… Does it really hurt that bad?”

“Hmm. How to…” Blue made a thoughtful expression. “Have you ever fallen or been hit so hard that it felt like the bone hurt?”

“Ah, yeah.” That made sense to him. “It’s like y’ said, a really deep sort’a pain.”

“Precisely.”

As he pulled the final stitch from her skin, the wound bled slightly. It was barely a drop, but it made him pause and consider it.

“What is it?”

“It’s bleedin’ a bit so I’m not sure the other one’s ready.”

Blue brought a hand up as though to touch the wound, then apparently thought better of it. She was still, then: “Grab the mirror would you?”

He grunted a response before stepping away to do that. He had seen it before when she grabbed the medical case so it only took him a moment to come back with it. When Blue hesitated to look at herself, he wondered if he should have refused her request. It was subtle, but there was something… something about her expression.

“What is it?”

Having pulled slightly at both wounds to better inspect them, Blue put the mirror down and declared, “It will be fine. Pull the stitches.”

“That—” —wasn’t what he meant. Z held his tongue and instead began his work.

Removing the stitches from the larger wound took longer. The skin of the face was so much more delicate than almost anywhere else, more sensitive, and this injury was not insignificant in the least. As he worked upwards along it, she became visibly tense. It bled lightly from a spot directly below her eye and the very top of the tear. He thought it could have waited another half-day.

“There, done.”

She lifted a hand to touch it and he brushed it away.

“Don’t pick at it, it’ll scab up in a bit.”

She halfheartedly grunted a response at him.

“Now,” he started, putting everything back in the case after wiping it clean, setting her dagger on the table; “I’ll go put this back. What’re you gonna do?”

When he sensed that she didn’t have a response right away for him, he stepped away. When he returned to her, she still looked like she was thinking.

“I am tired… but not tired enough to sleep.” She turned slightly in the chair, looking to the books they had collected. Z followed her line of sight.

“Ah.” The thought crossed his mind to get some good sleep in the bed, but… “Y’ sure? Y’ look awfully rough.”

She gave him an unimpressed look. “Am I supposed to look pristine after all that?”

“No…” But it was so weird for her to not care about how she looked. Perhaps it was a byproduct of all the pain she was in, maybe the medicine. Perhaps… “Do y’ want some help with it or somethin’?”

She blinked. “Help with what?”

“I dunno, brushin’ yer hair fer one. It, uh—”

“I was just going to cut it short.”

It was his turn to blink. Blue’s hair seemed to be a great source of pride for her, and he had to admit that it looked good. To cut it…

“Really? It’s gonna take way longer for it t’ grow back than it is fer yer arm t’ heal.”

The way she looked at him, he knew she didn’t agree. Something about that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“I suppose you can…”

He was so glad she didn’t argue it. He quickly retrieved the hairbrush and when he returned, Blue had moved so that she leaned forward, good arm on the table and supporting her. It seemed the damage to her shoulder would not prevent her from manipulating books.

As Z stood behind her and started working on untangling her hair, he asked, “So what’ve y’ learned from those books?”

She gave him a small groan. “It is… fleeting. My memory. I will need to read these over once more when I am in better condition.”

That was unfortunate. It didn’t sound like she knew if it was the medicine or her condition making her like that. Still… “Y’ can’t tell me anythin’?”

“I told you about the three ship alliance. They were busy collecting four or five Shroudbreaker stones. They knew to do this because they had hunted down another Skeleton Lord previously: Briggsy was the mentioned name.”

Z paused. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.”

“Oh?”

“She was a busy pirate. Used t’ be y’ couldn’t go too long without hearin’ ‘bout her doin’ somethin’ or another. Then one day the word was that she fell t’ the curse.”

“How unfortunate.”

Z grunted in agreement.

“Besides that, however… Nn, they were quite busy with this or that,” Blue added. She almost didn’t finish that sentence. Z paused again to look at her, concerned. Then she was thumbing through a book, clearly looking for something. He worked on her hair while he patiently waited. “There was another skeleton: Rooke. Apparently she killed a young couple.” Blue flipped a page. “And she mentioned Graymarrow by name.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm. It seems this alliance had quite a lot of time to prepare for that battle. One crew was openly spineless, the other put on a facade. I have not figured out yet what the third ship was doing.”

“They might not take kindly t’ us sinkin’ their friends…”

“Mm, Hancock’s log indicates that he had no intention of sharing any spoils with either ship once they were ready to go. I think they might be appreciative if they know that.”

“Maybe.” Stepping back, Z took a good look at her hair. It looked much better. “Think y’re good…”

“Thank you.”

“Uh huh.” Z refrained from voicing his surprise at her gratitude. Changing the subject, he said, “Hey, uh, y’ mind if I get some sleep in the bed?”

“Go,” Blue said, waving him off.

He grunted an acknowledgement. Before he stepped downstairs, he paused and addressed her once more: “If y’ need anythin’, wake me up.”

“Of course.”

*

Once more, a noise roused Z from his slumber. This was becoming a tiresome occurrence. At least this time it was clear what it was: the howling wind.

He was surprised to see Blue sitting on the bed beside his foot, wrapped up in a blanket. Less surprising was the log book she was reading. He sat up some, getting her attention.

“Get cold?”

“Something like that,” she said. “The wind is intense even with the shutters closed, you know, what with the open aft.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” he said, sitting up some more.

He had been a real smart ass by doing it before when they had just met, drunk and testing the waters, but he felt the urge to offer her to lie with him. Before he could say anything quite yet, she reached forward and placed the book upon the closed barrel. She leaned back against the wall.

“I am tired of being tired. My head is… clouded. The medicine does not help that.”

“At least it helps the pain, eh?”

“Mm. If I am not frustrated by the pain, I am frustrated by the slowness of my mind.”

“I’m sorry. Do y’ at least feel better from earlier?”

Blue side-eyed him. “No.”

Considering the passage of time he sensed, that was surprising. “Really? I mean—” He sighed and shook his head. “I jus’… thought y’d be healin’ quicker than this.”

She said nothing to that statement. Instead, she simply took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

“I suppose we will be curling up in this little thing again.”

“Well,” Z started, moving a little. Blue raised a hand and shook her head slightly.

“It is fine: my leg is no longer bothering me so I can bend my knees and sleep that way to give you room.”

“… ah.” He realised something. “So y’ do feel better!”

As she turned to get ready to lie down, Blue stopped to glare at him. “How much the injury to my hip bothered me is hardly of any significance when my arm is in the state it is.”

He sighed. “All right then.” He paused to watch her slowly move into a comfortable position on her back, bending her knees. Despite what she said, he moved so she could stretch her legs out behind him. Just like before but for differing reasons, he couldn’t help speaking again. “Y’ sure y’ don’t wanna—”

“This is fine,” she said sternly.

He let himself fall onto his side. “All right.”

Z had just gotten quite a bit of sleep. Blue, as she had stated before, was tired of being tired. Sensing that she wasn’t asleep, he wondered if it was because she was too angry to be. He turned so his shoulders were both against the bed and he could lift his head to look at her.

“Hey, y’ got—”

“Why must you speak? Is there something wrong with silence?”

“We’re both awake and gonna be, ain’t we? I was jus’ gonna ask if y’ had any stories t’ tell since we can’t do anythin’ with this storm here.”

Blue groaned, probably because he was right. Then: “I’m sure someone of your disposition could sail through this if you are so inclined to do something.”

“It’d be a bad time,” he said. “It’s doable with an extra set of hands, but, uh, y’ ain’t in any condition t’ be doin’ anythin’ like that. And I’d get soaked t’ the bone out there and my other set of clothes are full’a holes. ‘Sides, it’s nice and warm right here.”

She sighed. “We are at quite an impasse then.”

“That we are. So? Got any good stories?”

She was quiet for a moment. “Not especially.”

“What?” Z didn’t believe that for a moment; the notion made him sit up high on his elbows. “Y’re tellin’ me that a pretty little thing like yerself just happened t’ get t’ the Sea’a Thieves without anythin’ in’erestin’ happenin’ that’s worth talkin’ about? Even after this last week?”

“That I am.”

“That’s bullshit, Blue. Y’ looked like y’ barely kept it together when y’ looked int’ that mirror. Y’ve gotta have plenty on yer mind.”

“Have you ever considered that I would prefer to not talk about it?”

“I can’t imagine why! I’ve been dyin’ t’ tell y’ about what happened in here while you were on that gally — don’t y’ have anythin’ y’ want t’ say out loud?”

She put her good arm’s hand behind her so she could lean on it as she sat more upright. “And that is precisely the difference between you and me.”

Z glowered. “Talkin’s supposed t’ make y’ feel better ‘bout things.” When she made a face, he added: “It does.”

“Not I.”

He sat upright and grabbed one of her calves, pulling her closer. Blue seemed surprised to be looking up at him like that, just enough that he could detect it, and yet she carried a fearless expression.

“Then what does make y’ feel better?”

Z got the feeling that she may have actually been considering the question, her expression softening as she looked away. Another moment passed and there was a distinct splashing against the ship that made him lift his head. He’d heard that time and time again. Blue looked too, and then they looked at each other.

Company.

Swinging his legs out from under the blanket, Z had to reach over again and press Blue back down, much to her surprise. He shook his head when their eyes met and he turned his attention to getting his pegleg attached as quickly as possible. Blue was in no condition to be fighting anyone. The sound of footsteps on the quarter-deck and the rustling of a loaded gun only confirmed that suspicion.

When he stood and started for the stairs, he spied Blue sitting up again. That she would stay down low was something that he doubted — she was far too stubborn to be told what to do and yet…

Standing on the top stair to the mid-deck, Z made sure his steps towards the map table were even lighter. Moving unheard wasn’t his best skill, and it did normally take some effort, but right now it was easy with the wind. He managed to reach his destination and looked up through the beams of the canopy; he just barely spotted someone’s black hat on the far side of the quarter-deck.

Careful to stay quiet and not fall, Z climbed onto the half-walls of the mid-deck, using the beam to steady himself in the whipping winds. When he was confident, he jumped up and grabbed onto the edge of the canopy, pulling himself up onto it with some effort. Just as he was finishing getting upright, the intruder spun around, having sensed that he was not alone. Z was unsurprised to find that the other also wore all black, even if it was a nicer outfit.

“Uhh—”

Z wasn’t even going to entertain the idea of talking to this person — as far as he was concerned, setting foot on his ship was an act of aggression and this person would die for it.

Drawing his cutlass, Z dashed up the stairs and at the other. Their blades connected once, twice, and on the third swing the intruder parried particularly aggressively, taking the opportunity to back up and vault over the helm. He cried out when Blue’s dagger slashed his lower back open and he staggered forward with urgency.

Just as expected, she wouldn’t stay hidden. Z took the opportunity to also vault, putting himself between the two. He then swore when a pistol was fired and the bullet found his side. He had felt the bullet enter and exit and damned did it hurt and bleed. Worse still, he had been so distracted that he hadn’t grabbed any food before ascending.

Somehow, he was and wasn’t surprised when Blue stepped forward past him. Perhaps it was the sight of her dagger in her left hand, held in a reverse grip, that had something to do with how he felt about it. He knew her right arm would be useless here, a liability even, but her posture indicated anything but. She gestured for the man to come and attack her, taunting him. Between that and his blood dripping from her blade, she ignited quite a fury within him, a rushed attack accompanied by a vengeful howl.

Her movements were not as graceful as with her primary arm, grand gestures exaggerated by an awkwardness, but Blue succeeded in parrying once, twice, and a third time. When she expected a fourth swing, she instead found herself suddenly backhanded. She had to stagger backwards to avoid falling, regaining her balance just in time to connect her blade with his again. It had come at her side and the angle she held her dagger at meant that his sword got caught in the cut-out on the top of it. As soon as Blue realised her advantage, she twisted her arm as much as she could, making it awkward for him to keep ahold of his weapon. With this, she managed to press forward, forcing him backwards. Then she suddenly yanked her blade in the opposite direction, ripping his sword from his grip.

Less dazed and feeling the urge to help, Z rushed forward with his cutlass, readied to stab forward. Their intruder was surprised by this and had no means to defend himself from such an onslaught — no matter what, someone’s blade was going to embed itself in him. The indecision he displayed allowed Z to do exactly as he hoped, driving his sword into the other’s body down to the hilt. He carried his momentum further, stopping where the bowsprit just started to rise above the main-deck’s railing. In one smooth motion, he gave the other man another good shove, pushing him off the Forlorn Phoenix and removing his blade from his side. Z and Blue stood beside each other as they watched for the few seconds that he floundered in the water before the chill and wound dragged him under.

With that taken care of, Z turned to make for the mid-deck. He got as far as the mast before he had to stop, leaning against it, soaked by cold rain and blood. Blue took one look at him and then disappeared down low. She returned a moment later with a mango she sliced open, which he graciously accepted. Still…

“Was I not clear enough that y’ shouldn’t’ve come up here?” he asked after downing the majority of the fruit.

“If I had stayed down there, you would be dead and I would still be fighting.”

He glared at her before looking away with a sigh. She was right, but Z still felt some sort of annoyance that she had disobeyed him.

Aware of Blue still standing before him, he looked at her until she looked back. Judging by where her eyes had been, she was interested in his wound.

“It’s fine,” he said after feeling at his side. It was still tender, and blood had run down his leg, but he was quickly recovering. He looked up and scanned their surroundings. “We should get movin’.”

“Mhmm.” Blue looked him over again before declaring, “I will fix your other set of clothes. The rain will wash the blood from what you wear now.”

Before making for the quarter-deck, he paused and asked, “Hey, do we have any fish left over?”

“Perhaps. They will be old and dry if we do.”

“Better than nothin’. Check for me?”

She hesitated before nodding carefully; then she turned and disappeared once more.

Z got himself situated on the quarter-deck. He looked around once more and could spot nothing distinct through the storm, but he swore he could see a set of lights at Dagger Tooth that didn’t belong. Whatever the case, they needed to leave the area.

As he worked on untying the ropes to the sail controls, Blue came back up with the requested fish, to which he simply nodded in appreciation. Just as she had warned, it wasn’t in the best of condition, but it was still edible.

Before she started back down to the hold, she said, “If you need help up here, just yell.”

“I won’t, but thanks.”

She gave him an annoyed look before leaving him to handle the ship.

Chapter 32: A Rainy Mood

Summary:

Much of Blue’s time is spent reflecting on recent events. She can’t make up her mind on anything, but when a potential opportunity presents itself, she and Z both can’t resist.

The chronic rocking of the ship going over storm waves had made her weary. Blue had finished her work on Z’s clothes some time ago and placed the set on the desk, along with a towel — no doubt he would be soaked from the downpour.

When she noticed that the ship was now gently bobbing in calm island waters, Blue considered getting up from her spot on the bed. She leaned back as she did this, considering the matter quite heavily. No, she was too tired to properly entertain such an idea, not to mention more sore than usual from mending his clothes.

Now it was only a matter of time until he came down to the hold to pester her.

Just as expected, he made his appearance sometime after the ship had been stopped. He had changed his clothes and seemed dry enough that she wasn’t annoyed by his presence. What surprised her, however, was his grumble in response to her greeting. He sat at the other side of the bed, just about threw his pegleg off, and then curled up underneath the blankets despite her presence.

After looking at the lump that he was, she uncertainly blurted out, “Uhh—”

“I’m freezin ’,” he shot.

He had pulled his limbs tight against his body. Further inspection allowed her to notice his shivering. It was full-bodied and he tried to fight it, but every other one was nearly violent, the cold rattling his form. He had been out in the storm for quite some time…

Blue considered this new situation. After all the sailing he had done, he would be tired after a normal day. With the storm, she did not doubt that he this, and the cold he felt was visible. She, too, was rather tired and cold.

She didn’t like the idea that had come to mind, yet she saw no alternative.

With a sigh, Blue scooted closer to the other. When she lifted up the blanket behind him, she noticed him tense and go still until the shivers forced otherwise of him. She ignored it all, squeezing in between him and the wall. Laying like that wasn’t the most comfortable position, requiring that she hold her injured arm up with the other and steady it against her side lest it pull at her shoulder. More pressing, however, was not allowing Z any of the smart-ass remarks she sensed coming as he shifted.

“You are cold and so am I. This is the best solution to both of our problems.”

She pressed her right hand against his back when she was certain he was about to try rolling over for whatever reason. That was unnecessary, just as the noise he made was. She was thankful his back was still to her.

“Uh huh.” She thought that would be it, then he started again: “Y’know, they say skin-t’-skin contact’s th—”

“Another word and my knee may slip somewhere precious.”

He snickered before shivering again, teeth chattering. That all seemed to take the wind from his sails as he yielded, “Fine, fine.”

Blue slowly let out a breath. He didn’t attempt to make any further annoying statements or move and that allowed her to finally relax, though her hand stayed where it was. As cool as he was from being out in the elements, he was still warmer than the air. No, she was now acutely aware of just how cold she had become. She vaguely considered this as sleep crept into the places that the fading cold left.

*

Blue awoke to pain shooting out from her shoulder like lightning. Her arm was strewn along her side and that wasn’t a particularly comfortable way to hold it, especially not for so long. The drowsy thought crossed her mind that she should have just sucked it up and put her arm around Z to prevent this in the first place — then she mentally kicked herself for even thinking that.

Her mood worsened, she forced herself to sit up in the empty bed. Another hazy moment passed and she was aware of the ship bobbing in calm waters, the sound of gulls and lack of rain or extreme wind.

Blue sat there for quite some time in some amount of relief that they were finally rid of that storm. It didn’t improve her mood that much, her pain too severe, but it was a nice realisation. She soon heard the distinct footfalls of her shipmate and she turned to look just as he rounded the corner to her.

“‘Bout time y’ got up.”

Blue gave him an unimpressed look before moving to the edge of the bed so she could get up.

“Y’ wanna take a look at what’s all here?”

“All what’s…?” Right, they were at the big uncharted island that they had spotted new construction upon. “I suppose so. After I have eaten and dressed.”

“There might be somewhere t’ eat here,” he reasoned.

Between the pain and medicine, Blue’s appetite had been terrible and she just couldn’t match his excitement over the prospect of kitchen-made food. “I think I would just like a mango,” she said.

There was a slight but noticeable disappointment that crossed his face. He shrugged and nonetheless said, “Fine by me.”

She ate half of the mango she said she wanted. That seemed to work out fine as Z ate the rest before helping her get into a fresh change of clothes. Blue was still having to force herself to let him help, that and allowing him to brush the hair that she had come to despise. Maybe that would pass, maybe not; she did hate that he had a point, too.

From the desk’s chair, Blue looked up from working on the laces of her boots and asked, “Have you explored the island at all?”

“Not in a long time,” he said, inadvertently answering another lingering question she had been wondering.

“Well, there are no other ships here, but that does not mean we are alone. All of this did come up rather quickly…”

He nodded. “Weird, huh?”

She grunted an acknowledgement to him. With her laces tied up, she stood. “Shall we?”

Z was particularly curious about this new establishment, giving her a grin as they set off to explore it and failing to lose it even as they stepped off the ship. They took their time looking around the dock and Blue decided that this place was meant to become some sort of outpost based on all the docks and supply barrels around them. Still, both of them kept a wary hand on their cutlass’ grip, ready for trouble should it show itself.

The path forward was also a ramp upward. Along the way was what appeared to be a fairly large building mid-way through its construction. Far closer, however, was the sight of a woman in brilliant red garb coming down to greet them. A cutlass sat upon her hip but stayed unwielded. They looked from her to each other before back to her.

“I can offer you two a few moments of my time,” she said.

Blue immediately got the feeling that she would not like this woman, especially not after she had forgone a proper greeting. Z’s stupid grin held strong.

“So what’s all this?” he asked, so ever straight to the point.

“What he means,” Blue said sternly, shooting a glare at him, “is that it is good to meet you, miss…?”

The woman stood tall. “I am the daughter of the greatest pirate ever. For now that is all I’m going to tell you.”

Blue recoiled slightly. She and Z exchanged uncertain glances again before he shrugged.

“So?” he asked again, gesturing in general to the crane and construction above them.

“Today is not the day to reveal our purpose.”

Blue didn’t like that statement one bit and it must have shown.

Taking in her expression, the woman said: “Have faith in us for we will bring you a glorious spectacle this world has never seen! I’ll say no more now. Return to us in one moon’s time, when our promise of fortune and glory awaits!”

Blue was dumbfounded by the woman’s words. She and Z watched as she turned and made her way back up the ramp before their gazes settled upon each other yet again.

Z shrugged. “Guess there’s nowhere t’ get breakfast then.”

“I guess not.” Blue stood there for a moment longer, unsure of what to make of the encounter. “There is nothing at all for us here; we should leave.”

He gave her a look and they both knew she meant that he would be getting them going, though neither voiced that thought aloud. When they got back to the Forlorn Phoenix , Blue stopped at the desk and Z made his way to the map table.

“Shall we make for Old Boot Fort?” she suggested.

“Ehh, Castaway is closer. Ah, that big uncharted island’s even closer.”

Blue peered through the window for a long moment. “The wind and waves are good for southeast travel.”

He looked up to check her words. “Well, y’re not wrong about that…”

No, she wasn’t, and southeast took them closer to Morrow’s Peak Outpost, just as they had discussed before the storm. Now Blue was certain that he was anxious about the idea of continuing the Winter’s End’s mission despite his initial agreement. For her, something had stirred deep within her after reading those records and she refused to let the matter lie. He was, perhaps, right to not be as eager as she was.

Z disappeared to the upper decks while she thought about that.

*

Old Boot Fortress wasn’t such a bad place, Blue decided. The first visit here had been tainted by Z’s methodology, something she was still a little peeved at. He was a smart ass and he knew it. Despite that, he had also known just how unlikely it was for them to encounter any real danger at the fort, the incident at Hidden Spring Keep becoming something of an irony. That always lingered in the back of her mind now when they were at any known skeletal fortresses, though she was fairly relaxed here despite it. The real problem was that the same thing she liked so much about this particular island was now suddenly a point of contempt.

The matter was slowly considered for the long while that Blue stood underneath the ladder to the fort’s highest point. It had been so easy to climb the remaining part of the structure before, and now she was barely mustering up the courage to even try. She was certain that such movements would be impossible, yet she reached up, just to make sure. As expected, her left arm was perfectly fine, but the right one refused to raise after a point even as she pushed through the pain that started coursing through it. The range of motion she was allotted wasn’t an impossible amount to work with, but when she considered the pain that lifting her weight would cause, there was no way.

Refusing to worsen her injury — and that was the excuse she would use, not the fear of the pain — she instead made her way back down to the main part of the island’s upper level. She could still go around the edge of that to get a good look at their entire horizon, it just wasn’t as fun or fulfilling. The exact feeling of not being able to climb up something and take in the view was one that she could not describe, and yet it clawed at her insides all the same.

When she grew tired of being on the island, she returned to the ship. Z was still asleep on the bed, spread out like a starfish. With all the sailing that he had done in the poor weather, she had encouraged him to get some real rest. He had barely argued with her and yielded easily. With what had become her usual spot now occupied, Blue sat herself at the desk.

Simply sitting in a proper chair and being awake was a nice change of pace. Not so nice was how much her shoulder complained, and for no particular reason that she could deduce other than existing. She would simply have to suffer through it, but once her shipmate was up, she would allow herself a generous sip of that pain reducer.

The matter of the books from the Winter’s End still weighed heavily on her mind and she found herself thumbing through them once more. They were rich in story, full of accounts retelling what the crews involved had done, and while she felt like she understood Garrett’s desire for her to save the collections, that, too, weighed on her mind. Why her? she supposed. That question had come up quite a lot in recent days.

One book belonged to a Captain Eli Slate of the Morningstar , a final ship’s log. Scattered entries from another collection amended the back of it, further detailing their end. Another book belonged to Captain Jackadyle Hancock, the final log of the Winter’s End . Touching that one felt like courting death.

The third book was the most interesting. It was everything the crew of the Winter’s End knew about their alliance’s journey compiled into one book by Garrett. She now realised that in her dazed state before that she had mistaken their quest to be the restoration of the Shroudbreaker; that was only part of it. Rather, their goal was to reach the Shores of Gold — wherever that was — a task that required the item.

She had heard of the Shores of Gold before. She had heard it before but thought it nothing more than a tall tale repeated ad nauseam by sailors who thought they were clever. Considering that the Winter’s End and its alliance mates were doing something very real, something that she had held in her own hands before, she decided that there must have been some truth to those stories. They were all still liars, of course.

Undertaking such a journey was still something that Blue wasn’t quite sure about. Why risk so much to get there? What was there? She had no solid ideas, only a curiosity that was getting the better of her. A place with such a fantastical name was surely home to many treasures; that was all she could think of. The Shores of Gold… perhaps it was literal? That would be a sight to see. It sure would explain everyone’s interest in it, too.

After the run-in with the Winter’s End , she now sought to complete that journey herself. She — and Z — had been forcefully pulled into this foray so it was only right that they see it to its natural end. Whether or not what remained of the alliance would agree was another matter.

The shipwright of Dagger Tooth Outpost had told them to go to Morrow’s Peak Outpost. Blue had no idea who it was they were to look for until it dawned on her: Grace Morrow. The outpost was named for her, and wrecked upon it was her ship, the Shroudbreaker .

Everything made sense now.

Her knee-jerk reaction was to tell Z that she now had a more definitive plan. How a conversation with Morrow would go… what would happen after… Well, that was quite a question. Besides, Z was still asleep; she’d have to sit on the matter for a while longer before getting his thoughts on it.

*

Not so far from their location was Crook’s Hollow, so after a brief discussion, they made way for it. Blue had intended to help with sailing this distance, but between her fatigue and Z’s insistence that she sleep, it was difficult to keep up that intent.

Before that had happened, she shared her revelations with him. He seemed unconvinced at first, but her voicing her thought process had him agreeing with her that it was Captain Morrow they were looking for. The matter of what exactly was to be found upon the Shores of Gold and what they would do with it was not something that they discussed — that was for another time.

Once they arrived at Crook’s Hollow, they shared a pomegranate and Blue suggested bathing. There was no proper body of water to use, but she knew that there was flowing water, including a waterfall right above the shoreline at a cave opening. It was there that she sat, naked from the waist up and still pondering events that had led her to this exact moment.

Despite being under the water for some time now, she still didn’t smell right. In fact, she decided that she hadn’t smelled right since her injury. Whether it was from the blood loss, the stress of it all, or if it was just a new normal, she wasn’t sure. It wasn’t bad by any means, simply something she was annoyingly aware of now.

There was a lot that she was now hyper-aware of. The pain of a shoulder was more uncomfortable than that of many other places, but this pain was a significant one. It radiated up into her neck and jaw, as well as down through her chest. All of it had her considering every move with her torso that she made.

She considered a lot of things. The way Z had tended to her lingered in her mind. Had she let him, she was certain that he would have totally babied her, done anything she asked or needed while she sat and rested. Yes, she did need to do that, but she was not completely helpless and despised how he was making her feel that way. It was peculiar, too; they weren’t very close, she thought. Then she decided that if that were the case, she probably shouldn’t have slept against his back as she had. He had been so cold that night, though — it would have been embarrassing for both of them if he had died of exposure. Did the Ferry even offer return trips for something like that?

Or perhaps she was overthinking everything. They had certainly come a long way from how things had gone the day that they met, but thinking back to that just reminded her of how… pushy… he could be. Like today: she had noted that this would be a good opportunity to do some laundry and he had refused to entertain the idea of her cleaning any clothing — no matter whose it was — and taken the washboard from her grasp.

Z did not strike her as a particularly chivalrous sort. He liked fighting, did not do so with honour, and he had no qualms about being a sneak, either. When they shared space with his friends, he did not seem to treat her any differently from them.

Blue was beginning to get suspicious.

Lifting her head, she looked to the other end of the waterfall where her shipmate sat. He was furiously scrubbing the shirt of the Morningstar outfit against the washboard while trying not to tear it, desperate to get the remnants of blood out of it. That shirt had more dark spots than lighter areas now and would likely forever be stained. It didn’t help Z at all that Graymarrow had rent quite a hole into it.

Tired of watching him grow more frustrated by the moment, Blue said, “Let it be. You are going to rip that apart if you keep going the way you are.”

He lifted his head to look at her, expression shifting to one of thoughtfulness. Whatever was on his mind, she didn’t inquire, didn’t wonder for long, and he didn’t offer it up. Instead, Blue held her breath and let the cool water run over her scarred face for as long as she could manage. The cold of the storm in the Wilds had been harsh and bitter, sapping strength — the water here was refreshing and soothed her aches.

Z made a noise that she didn’t catch right away. When he called properly for her attention, she pulled away from the water to look at him.

“Y’ gonna need help washin’?”

She wanted to shoot him a negative response, but that would have been entirely untruthful and unmanageable. Rather, Blue paused to think. At this point, her pain had become tolerable enough that she could bathe herself, but her hair still presented a problem.

“Do you still want me to keep my hair?”

Surprise flashed across his face. “Err, it— well, like I said, no need t’ cut it when y’ll heal faster than it’ll grow back.”

Blue had a hard time believing that. He refused to listen to her. Yet she stayed her tongue, not nearly bothered enough to repeat the matter. No, like most everything as of late, Blue simply couldn’t care about whatever hang-up he might have had.

“Fine then.”

Hell, maybe she ought to take more advantage of his recent generosity.

*

They rested at Crook’s Hollow and the next day surprised them with especially good sailing conditions. With both of them unwilling to let such an opportunity spoil away, Z took them along the crosswind, swinging south of the rock cluster near Ancient Spire Outpost and stopping there early in the evening.

Stood upon the taller of the two peaks, they eyed the galleon that seemed to be coming their way, uncomfortably close.

“So what’s the plan this time?” Z asked.

“Well, we know nothing about this ship…” Blue trailed off, uncertain and drowsy from a dose of medicine.

The last galleons to meet them here were ones they were acquainted with in one way or another. They had managed it just fine, but that was then and this was now.

“… and I do not think I am going to be very much help in a large fight.”

Z snickered. “Really? Y’ did jus’ fine with that one guy at Shipwreck—”

“He was focused on you; I was lucky to surprise him,” she shot. “And handling a weapon with my left hand is… awkward at best. A two-on-one fight is easy enough — this is a full crew that may not take lightly to our presence.”

“So what’re y’ thinkin’?”

“Well,” she started, thoughtfully bringing a hand to her chin. Blue watched the galleon a moment longer, realising something. “They are not coming here.”

“Huh?” Z blinked and followed her gaze a moment later.

“Look at their angle… They have been following the wind up until now. They just turned out of it, straight east. The waves will drift them southerly.”

He looked at her. “Y’ sure’a that?”

“Quite.”

He didn’t seem certain of her certainty. That was fine; Blue wouldn’t blame him. A little while longer and the galleon was sailing past the outpost. Then her realisation must have leaked into her expression, the two of them looking at each other with differing expressions.

“What?”

“Wha, no, you first,” Z insisted.

She wrinkled her nose. Looking back towards the galleon, she raised her spyglass to better view it. “That… I wonder, might it be the Octavia ?”

He made a curious noise. “Might be, I guess; they are comin’ from the right way t’ know where t’ go.”

“Precisely,” Blue said as she lowered her spyglass. “Between the wind and currents, they are perfectly on course for Morrow’s Peak.”

“You wanna tail ‘em?”

His suggestion surprised her. With how little sailing she had been doing herself, even if it was at his insistence, Blue had expected him to want to eat and rest. He really should have. And yet…

Looking to him, she asked, “What do you think?”

“I say we go after ‘em.”

She chuckled, hiding her nervousness. “Even when that means more work sailing for you?”

“Uh huh,” he said with a nod. He started down the path back to the docks when he stopped a moment later, turning to look at her. When her expression failed to show that she was convinced, he added: “I can sleep when I’m dead. Let’s go!”

That got an earnest chuckle from her.

Chapter 33: A Leap of Faith

Summary:

Despite going into things with a plan and expectations in mind, Blue and Z still somehow bite off more than they can chew.

Had they been spotted or not? It was a lingering question as they followed the galleon to Morrow’s Peak Outpost. Both their target and destination were potentially dangerous and at one point, Blue was awestruck by her own bravery. Normally, she avoided both the Devil’s Roar and larger ships. Yet, here they were.

She turned her head to look from her position at the base of the bowsprit back at Z. He held the wheel with one hand, his posture emanating a relaxed confidence. This was crazy. He was crazy. She was crazy.

Most of the way to Morrow’s Peak was spent in an uneasy yet somehow comfortable silence. Blue was fairly certain this ship was the Octavia — it had to be, it just made too much sense. At the same time, that would be too convenient and the powers that be surely wouldn’t give her a break now so she was only cautiously hopeful.

Far ahead of them, the galleon had stopped and pressed its starboard side against the dock. When they came in a little while later, they both had their eyes on the larger ship, eager to spot a lookout as soon as possible. Z also made sure to take the sloop in behind the galleon.

When Blue went to start pulling the ship against the dock, Z got her attention and shook his head. She thought that perhaps he thought that she was getting ahead of herself and tried to stop them with their bow pointed at the island — such positioning was ill-advised and made quick getaways difficult. The urge to scold him built up within her, but she suppressed it. Then, just as the ship was positioning correctly, he came down the stairs and took the ropes from her.

She wasn’t sure whether to scold or praise him so she just grunted an acknowledgement. For a moment she watched him and then her attention went back to the galleon. Neither of them had spotted anyone, but there was quite a steep hill up to the tavern where a lookout could have been hiding instead. A less than warm welcome could still be waiting for them.

With Z busy getting the sloop properly stopped, pressing the stern against the dock, Blue stepped onto the planks of the dock. Down the way was the shipwright and Merchant Alliance representative; she offered both women a polite wave, but the galleon was her continued interest. Its hull was a near-golden hue with blue highlights. The cannons looked to be of standard issue and the sails she could not examine for they were securely tied up. She flew no flags to speak of and though that was unusual, Blue supposed it made sense with their alliance recently falling apart. Annoyingly, she could not get a good look at its crest, the dock just a little too low.

The ladder up the galleon’s side was considered. She wondered if her range of motion had improved since Old Boot Fort, but the real question was still how much pain carrying herself up one would put her in, for she had been using the rowboat at the sloop’s stern to get on and off the Forlorn Phoenix . Before she could consider the matter more, Z was at her side, a curious expression on his face.

“I cannot see the ship’s name and I do not think I can climb that ladder,” she said.

“Hmm. What’re y’ thinkin’?”

“I am thinking that I need to look at their crest and you cannot do it for me.”

He blinked. “Sure I can.”

“You cannot read,” she reminded as gently as she could.

“I know some letters!”

She sighed. “Be that as it may, I would not be convinced by your observation.”

Z seemed upset about that but didn’t push it, allowing them to stand in a moment of silence. Then he said, “I could pick ya up.”

Alarmed, Blue took a step away from him. “Absolutely not!”

An amused grin crossed his face. “Why not? It wouldn’t be that hard.”

She took another step and stammered, desperate to come up with a good excuse. Z was back at her side before she could do anything more, lowering himself and grabbing her around the thighs. Blue made a very undignified noise as he put a firm grip on her and brought her to sit on his shoulder, standing tall. Just as he had said, it was not a hard action to perform.

With another sigh, nearly a scoff, Blue found her balance and recognised the situation she was in. A subtle rage simmered in her chest, angry that she was so helpless. Directing this towards Z would do neither of them any good, and the one who deserved it was already dead.

Pushing onward was definitely the way to deal with it.

Z made a noise and she brought her attention back to the matter at hand. From her elevated position, Blue could perfectly see that the galleon’s crest above the cabin door read Octavia .

“This is her,” she said. She and Z both moved at the same time to get her back on her own feet.

“So what’s our plan now?” he asked.

“Now… Now we go get a drink,” she declared.

Blue could feel the peculiar look he was giving her as she started up the dock towards the island proper, but what else were they supposed to do? Tavern bars were meant for just that, and people were generally more docile after getting some drink in them. Blue knew this quite well.

Ascending the island’s hill to get to the tavern took a moment. They passed the wreck of the Shroudbreaker and the pirate that Blue knew to be Captain Grace Morrow. They could speak later.

Inside the tavern at the round table closest to the door was quite a gathering. Blue pretended to pay it no mind as she entered the building, but she was certain that she spotted more than a full crew. It wasn’t until she and Z reached the counter that they were better able to examine the group without drawing attention to themselves. There were five people total; Blue was able to see the faces of four of them and she presumed them to be the Octavia’s crew as she did not recognise them. The fifth had his back to them, but she recognised his voice.

She wasn’t sure what to make of this situation as they stood at the counter. Z asked for the house special while they stood there before his attention was back on her, curious. She spared another good look at the group to reassess what she had gleaned before.

Voice low, she said, “I believe they are the crew, and the one with his back to us is Garrett.”

“What, from the other gally?”

She nodded and Z recoiled. It was subtle, but she spied the rage he tried to hide as he looked over at the table. She lifted her hand to calm him before using it to grab her drink.

“What?” he asked.

“I think this is not the place to be fighting. They should be allies, correct? If so, it would not go well for us.”

The irony was not lost upon her as she heard a burst of excitement come from the table. Whatever Garrett had just told them had riled them up something fierce. Blue wondered if this was even a good time to go talk to them; her head told her it was not, yet the resolve in her gut was solid. She set her tankard down and ignored the noises Z made at her as she made her way to the table of pirates.

“I absolutely am not!” Garrett declared to the conversation.

A tall, well-built woman with too big of a hat for her spotted Blue before she got too close and stood, clearly cautious but emanating a friendliness.

“We have urgent business to tend to, friend,” she started. “What can we do for you?”

That woman and Blue made eye contact for the moment it took the rest of the table’s attention to fall onto her. After twisting around so his legs came off the side of his chair, Garrett’s mood visibly shifted from one of agitation to something more solemn when he got a good look at her. Her attention shifted to him and she slowly placed her hands on her hips.

His voice a feeble whisper, he said, “Oh, you actually did it…”

The crew looked to each other, curiosity and concern crossing their faces. Their captain carried the most worrisome expression, and it certainly wasn’t because Z had come to Blue’s side. Garrett turned to look at the crew.

“Please,” the big-hatted woman said; “Join us.”

The four did indeed belong to the Octavia . Their captain introduced herself as Madeleine Montagne. Kata was their master gunner, a woman with thick muscles who was caretaker of weapons and best shot of the crew; their quartermaster was known as nothing more or less than Rezin, a man of painfully average build and height; Bauble Beans, or simply Bean, was their cook and self-proclaimed hoarder of shiny things, a declaration Blue believed fit her tiny stature and energetic personality.

Blue got the feeling that they were a decent, close crew. She and Z simply gave them their names.

The Octavia’s crew had been surprised to find Garrett alone at Morrow’s Peak. He had very matter-of-factually told them that he was alone, the others likely dead, and that he had not known the end result of their voyage. The last thing he had started on before Blue’s intrusion was explaining how the others of the Winter’s End had ‘recruited’ help for their cause. Garrett had just finished better describing the actions of his crewmates in detail. Captain Montagne and her crew seemed dumbstruck to hear their alliance take part in such atrocities.

Sitting in a chair with its back in front of her, her good arm draped across the top of it, Blue snickered, stifling a louder laugh. “If he was lying, I would not have this unsightly scar and I could still fish up dinner.” That tore away their doubt.

Garrett was open about the remorse he felt over allowing it to happen. He also admitted that he suspected the others would not be allowed passage back to the world of the living from the Ferry of the Damned . Blue found that peculiar, still quite uncertain of what stopped someone’s return from the Sea of the Damned, but ultimately she and everyone else agreed.

“I cannot condone it, but I understand where Hancock’s cowardice came from,” Blue said. That seemed to surprise everyone to some degree. Then she added, “With what little I knew of Graymarrow before coming face-to-face with him, I felt it twisting in my core. I cannot imagine what having days and days to consider heading towards my own doom could feel like.”

Captain Montagne tapped her fingers at the surface of the table they crowded around. “That is very thoughtful of you. I am uncertain that I can say the same.”

“Mm.” Blue tilted her head slightly. “I did not say I would do as he had. They did. The bastard. He didn’t even plan to share whatever spoils waited for the alliance in the future.” She paused. “Err, where is the, uh…”

“The Marauder ?”

“Ah, yes, the Mild Mannered Marauder , was it?”

Madeleine nodded. “We haven’t had contact with them in quite some time now. We did cross paths with a sloop that said they saw a ship matching its description being sunk by a megalodon somewhere between the Shores of Plenty and the Wilds.”

“That is unfortunate but unsurprising,” Blue said. “Hancock’s log says that they took all usable resources from them.” Garrett simply nodded a confirmation.

“That is very unfortunate,” Madeleine agreed. “They were a good crew. Good, honest people. But we haven’t heard from them since before that, and I am afraid we simply cannot wait the weeks it may still be before we can make contact with them again.”

“So you intended to go to the Shores of Gold twelve strong,” Blue assumed.

“That we did.”

Garrett shook his head once more as he had done before they had all sat down. Blue and Z gave him a sideways look. Before he could speak, Madeleine was holding her hands up, sheepish and amused.

“Really, Garrett, we could use your help. If the rumours are true then we could—”

Z grumbled and interjected, “Rumours?”

Their captain seemed somewhat taken aback but answered nonetheless. “Yes, there are rumours that a Skeleton Lord lives upon the Shores of Gold. Uh, Tribute Peak.” When Blue gave the captain a curious look, she explained, “Since we began this quest, we’ve heard more and more rumours as our reputation spreads and pirates talk with us. ‘The Shores of Gold’ is a nickname given to the island by the pirates of these waters. Some say the Gold Hoarder, the founder of the Company, lives there, guarding his hoard. The Company reps will never say whether or not they have anything to do with the island, but everyone seems to think that they do.”

Blue could feel Z staring at her, something she ignored. “So you intended to go to Tribute Peak twelve strong in order to take down a Skeleton Lord. Why not do that for Graymarrow?” The question burned in her stomach.

Madeleine sat back some, sorrow spreading across her features. “The Marauder’s crew refused the task. Had the Winter not sent them to certain doom, I would have suggested it the next time we had correspondence. Uhm…” She hesitated, then decided to add: “Jack clearly thought the same, I’m afraid.”

Z made a sharp tsk noise behind her. It would take more effort than Blue was willing to expend to look at him and hush him.

“Clearly. So you want him—” Blue gestured to Garrett “—and us to come with you instead.”

“Yes,” she said bluntly. “You deserve to, too.”

They could all agree on that.

Now Blue leaned back some, finally looking to her shipmate. They exchanged glances and she got the feeling that he wanted to discuss everything; Blue didn’t particularly care and turned her attention back to Captain Montagne.

“I’ll go.”

She heard Z stammer, then: “Same.”

Everyone’s gaze settled upon Garrett. He slowly let out a breath and looked to his hands resting on the table. Finally, he nodded, though did not look up. “Very well, I’ll come along. I suppose it’s the least I can do after that disaster.”

The crew of the Octavia looked amongst each other, grins and smiles crossing their faces as excitement began boiling within them. Blue was certain she could detect hints of relief, too. Even still, she sensed that Z wasn’t entirely happy about this.

“Might we have the rest of the day to prepare and leave tomorrow morn?” Blue inquired.

Madeleine nodded. “That’s a grand idea, Blue. We shouldn’t leave Captain Morrow waiting, though.”

“Of course not,” she responded.

Blue readied herself to stand, gesturing for the other crew to go first. They gave her their nods of acknowledgement and got to their feet, making their way to the door. Garrett followed close behind them. As Blue stood, she finally gave Z a good look; he seemed disgruntled and she was only slightly surprised when he grabbed her left arm to stop her.

“Are you seriously goin’ t’ do this?”

“This was the plan, yes? To follow through with things?” Blue said rhetorically. She pulled her arm from his grasp and followed the Octavia’s crew.

Outside, the group had gathered around the outpost’s founder. It seemed they had been waiting for them. The two captains looked to each other when Blue and Z joined them and Madeleine then nodded.

“Well, now. I was told to expect a crew, but I didn’t expect so many of you,” Captain Grace Morrow said as she looked over the group; “It’s not every day I receive a message from the Pirate Lord himself…” She earned herself some chuckles, as well as various looks from the entire group ranging from concern to curiosity.

“Years ago, I used the Shroudbreaker and was the first to reach the Devil’s Roar and founded this outpost. I gained a reputation for succeeding at the impossible, but not even I dared to try for the Shores of Gold. I must say, I’m impressed!”

Captain Morrow reached into a pocket and produced an item with familiar gemstones set within it. Blue couldn’t decide if the item itself was humanoid shaped or not. “Here’s the Shroudbreaker, fully restored.” She offered it to the group in general and everyone allowed for Madeleine to take it.

“Once it’s aboard your ship, it should protect her long enough to reach your destination. Wander off course and… well, you might not live to regret it.”

The Devil’s Shroud. Of course. The names ‘Shroudbreaker’ were quite literal. Leave it to pirates to be so simple. Still, Blue couldn’t help wondering what exactly their course would be, if anyone had any ideas or already knew. She suddenly felt less confident in all of this now.

“There’s a book for you, too,” Grace started, producing that as well and handing it to Madeleine; “signed by the Pirate Lord. Whatever it may say, I’d advise you to read it carefully. When the greatest pirate who ever lived takes the trouble to write to you, it’s got to be something worth taking to heart.”

The greatest pirate… Blue’s mind momentarily wandered to the woman they had met at the island under construction. She was deeply curious of what this book contained, too.

“As for me, all I can do is wish you all luck and safe travels. You’re obviously brave and talented, but nothing you’ve faced so far compares to the dangers that lie ahead.”

Blue very much doubted that.

The others all said their thank yous and goodbyes to Grace Morrow — Blue offered her a polite, passing nod of the head — and they all made for the dock. Garrett was eerily quiet and travelled behind the entire group while the Octavia’s crew chatted excitedly amongst each other, their captain responding with simple acknowledgements to their words. When they reached the dock, she pulled away from them to address Blue and Z.

“What do you think, an hour after sunrise we’ll get together and see what everyone thinks?” she suggested.

Blue considered that for a moment, glancing at Z, who still seemed quietly irritated. When he said nothing, she answered, “That is fine. We can discuss the matter over breakfast in the tavern.”

Madeleine moved as though she had something to say about that, then seemed to think better of it. “A good idea. Very well.”

Z stepped forward to address the captain and gestured over to Garrett with a thumb. “Keep an eye on that one.”

She nodded, saying, “Will do.” She moved to step away and said, “Goodnight, you two,” before returning to her crew.

Once more, Blue and Z spared each other a glance before she tore her gaze away from his, uncomfortable, and made her way over to the Forlorn Phoenix . Sensing an argument brewing, Blue made it all the way down to the hold, sitting on the bed so she could start unlacing her boots and avoid attracting the attention of others.

Stomping down after her, Z shot, “Are you crazy?”

So she was right.

“Well, Graymarrow did hit me rather hard…”

He tore away from her, exasperated. It took quite a bit of effort to not laugh.

“That’s not what I mean and y’ know it, Blue!” he said sternly, clearly fighting to keep himself from being so loud the galleon crew could hear him. “Seriously, is this what y’ want t’ do? Go after another Skeleton Lord?”

“It is only conjecture,” she reasoned.

Z groaned. “The Gold Hoarders are slimy rats.”

“And you think there is truth to those rumours?”

“They come from somewhere, don’t they? And besides, what’re we gonna find there?”

“Gold?” she reasoned. Z looked like she was about to hit her. Blue shrugged at him as well as she could and that set him off again.

“You can’t even—!” He mimicked her. “Y’re a mess, Blue! The last thing we need t’ go doin’ is fightin’ a Skeleton Lord.”

“So you think there is one.”

He heaved a great sigh. “If there is one, it’s gonna be one helluva fight.” He paused to look her up and down. “Are y’ sure y’re up fer that?”

Annoyingly, he had a good point. Somehow, however, this didn’t feel like it was just about her condition. Blue wasn’t sure what to ask regarding that thought, though.

“Are you?”

Z looked her over again. “I don’t think it really matters—”

“Graymarrow’s goons roughed you up rather well,” she said. “And from what I can recall, he gave you a good run for your gold, too.”

Z stared at her for a long moment before grumbling, sitting beside her. “That’s not the point. I can hold my own. An’ I don’t think we’re gonna have t’ worry ‘bout bein’ marooned again…” He scratched at the back of his head. “I jus’… I just don’t think y’re ready t’ be takin’ a fight like that again so soon.”

“If not now, when?”

“When y’re healed up?”

Blue recoiled slightly. Right. He thought she was going to get better. She disagreed.

Decisively, she slipped one arm out of her jacket and then the other. Though she could feel Z’s discomfort, she continued, unbuttoning her under-vest and discarding it as well. She turned towards him, gestured to her arm, demanding he take a good look.

“Does this really look like it’s going to get better to you?”

It was a long moment before he tore his eyes away from her, finding the floor interesting to look at. He kicked at nothing with his pegleg. Apparently inspired by that, he said, “If my leg can get better, so can yer arm.”

She wanted to ask just what exactly his injury had entailed but refrained. To her, it didn’t seem like the injuries could compare, so why bother?

“My point,” Blue started, kneeling down to the clothing chest to fish out a much more comfortable shirt for the night; “My point stands.”

Z was quiet for a long time, long enough that Blue had changed into an entire set of looser-fitting clothes for the night. It was only when she turned to face him properly that he looked at her and spoke.

“So y’ really want t’ do this?”

Something about the way he asked her made her think there was more to it than he said. Blue was beginning to get suspicious.

“Do you?” she countered.

He seemed taken aback by that. She continued: “You were so eager to continue this voyage when I first suggested doing so. Since we arrived here, you have been fighting it.” She bit at the inside of her cheek, realising her frustration. “Why is that?”

“I didn’t really think it’d be this… so… It’s more real now, y’ know?”

“Hmm.” She put her hands on her hips, uncertain she believed his delivery. Then she asked, “And did you know about the rumours of a Skeleton Lord at the Shores of Gold before?”

“I didn’t think we’d actually be goin’,” he admitted.

So he did. That was the first thing he had said all day that Blue truly believed. She looked away, irritated. “Is there anything else I should know?”

He made a thoughtful noise. “That y’ should know? No, I can’t think of anythin’.”

Blue eyed him suspiciously. He recoiled.

“What, you asked!”

“So you do know more.”

He sighed and shook his head. “C’mere,” he said, standing and making his way to the map table. Blue followed a moment later, too curious not to.

“Y’see this?” he asked, pointing out the dark edges of the map. “It’s the Devil’s Shroud. We changed the maps when the Roar broke through, but…” He pointed to an area north of the Devil’s Roar. “If the rumours are true — an’ I’d be bettin’ that they are — then this makes sense for it t’ be there. The Shores of Gold. It’s somewhere where the Gold Hoarders could get to even before the Shroud ‘round the Roar went away.”

It made sense. The top right corner of the map was still oddly Shrouded. Before the Devil’s Roar became accessible, one could still make their way there by going in through the Wilds to its west.

“I am following. You think—” she paused to think of the more proper name “—you think Tribute Peak is there?”

“Makes sense, don’t it?” he asked, glancing at her.

“I suppose so… Have you considered this before?”

“Not really, not how I think y’re thinkin’. I just wondered ‘bout this spot before and this makes sense now with all we’ve been hearin’ the last couple'a days.”

“Fair enough.”

Blue looked over the map one more time before she stepped away from it. She peered about from their position, eyeing the dock. The others had since disappeared and she could not hear any conversations, either. She assumed that the crew of the Octavia had already discussed what they needed to and retired for the night. If anyone needed this time, it was her and Z, and perhaps Madeleine would need to speak further with Garrett.

Certain as she was of taking this path, Blue could feel a little bit of uncertainty deep in her core.

“What do you think we will find there?” she blurted out.

Z finally tore his eyes away from the map table to look over at her. “I… I dunno. Gold, maybe?”

She allowed herself a chuckle. “Perhaps so. That would be nice.”

“If the Gold Hoarders do do anything with that place, there should be lots.” A thoughtful expression crossed his features. “Say, if there is a ton of gold there, what’re y’ gonna do with yer share?”

That question took Blue aback. She really should have expected it, she decided. She also realised that she had shared a simplified version of her goals with his crewmate, not him.

“Well, I have planned for the longest time that I would amass as much gold as I could need to woo myself a husband of my choosing, sustain a family and myself for a lifetime, and buy a modest estate.”

“Y’ said that like that wasn’t what y’ planned on doin’ anymore…”

“That was… before.”

“Before?”

Blue sighed, a familiar pang of discomfort spreading from her gut. He always had to push the matter. He liked talking too much.

“Yes, before. When it seemed possible.”

Z rose a brow. “What changed?”

“Graymarrow happened.” When he didn’t seem to understand, Blue pointed to her mangled face. “Those in the presence of civilised company generally look the part. I would never look as anything but a savage to those of polite disposition.”

He still looked uncertain about what she was saying. Her thoughts went back to the conversation they had at Plunder Outpost with some of his friends; he never intended to leave this place.

“I never intended to live on the waves. I travelled across them occasionally, never going very far. A day’s trip at most. Then…”

“Then?”

She lingered. No, he didn’t need to know anything.

“My point is that I never intended to be here ,” she said, gesturing to everything around them. “Not here, not on the waves at all.”

“But here y’ are.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the map table. “What’s so bad ‘bout bein’ here, anyway?”

Blue mimicked his posture, leaning against the wall beside the armoury. He wasn’t wrong, she supposed — it wasn’t so bad being here. This was just never where she thought she would be in life.

“It was not so bad before. Now…” She rolled her shoulders as well as she could. “I suppose I will need to learn to fight with my left hand if I am stuck here longer than I anticipated.”

“Y’ don’t plan on stayin’?”

She laughed. “What gave you that idea? I will only need to stay longer . Gold can solve most problems, no?”

“I guess it does,” he said, unconvinced. They looked at each other and he smirked. “If y’re gonna learn t’ fight with yer left hand… y’ wanna spar?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I think I will be better off learning the basic motions first. And my Eye of Reach should prove quite sufficient in the meantime.”

That stupid look on his face didn’t budge. “All right, but y’re the one that said we’re only as strong as our weakest link.” She must have looked surprised despite her attempt to keep a neutral expression. “Jus’ sayin’. We could fix that pretty quick.”

Blue ground her teeth some. “I will get a pair of dull swords out and you can help me get used to it…”

Before she turned to make her way to the hold, she spied a smug grin on his face, one that didn’t change even in the time she took to retrieve the aforementioned swords one at a time, handing him his first and then gathering one for herself. He was far too pleased with himself. Or did he find this funny? She wasn’t sure nor was she about to ask.

They returned to the main-deck. Blue was more awkward than she would ever admit with the weapon as she got a feel for it in her off-hand.

Observing, Z asked, “So how’d y’ learn how t’ fight in the first place?” Blue’s expression must have betrayed her as his shifted to something more meek. “Or… is it better I don’t ask?”

She put the tip of the sword down into the planks, leaned on it and looked away. No, he didn’t need to know. She let out a sigh and shook her head. “I learned because I needed to, though neither was I allotted the time to be properly trained. That is all.”

He nodded. “Jus’ start with gettin’ used to makin’ the motions.”

That wasn’t so hard. Blue was able to translate movements she had made plenty of times before with her right arm into her left. Certain twists of the wrist took a little longer to figure out the exact gesturing of, but that wasn’t the frustrating part.

“What’s the matter?” Z asked once she could no longer keep it off her face.

Holding still in a defensive pose, the sword’s cutting edge facing upward, Blue sighed. “I am… getting tired.”

“That’s not a surprise, I guess. Y’re still hurt and takin’ that medicine, ain’t ya?”

Was she still hurt or was she getting better? She stared at him incredulously but said nothing, only slowly releasing the gesture and returning to a normal standing stance. “What point are you trying to make?”

“Y’re not at yer best.”

Blue glowered at him before looking away and sighing. No, he wasn’t wrong. Still, she was annoyed and she thought he might be picking up on that.

“Maybe that’s enough for today,” he said as expected.

“Will that little bit of practice really suffice for what we may be going up against?” she shot back.

Z shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t think y’re learnin’ enough in a day or two. That gun’a yers will hafta be enough.”

They eyed each other for a moment. “If that is how you feel, then why am I bothering with this?” she asked, gesturing to the general area and swords.

“Well,” he started, eyeing her and taking a few steps closer; “if y’re so sure y’re not gonna be gettin’ any better, then y’d better start gettin’ used t’ a sword in that hand sooner rather than later.”

Blue stared at him, incredulous, frustrated, but only took a deep breath and shook her head. She heard him chuckle before he came over and took her sword from her, disappearing downstairs with them. When he reappeared, she wasn’t sure what it was that was still annoying her so badly.

“I am going to bed,” she declared, fed up with the day.

“Uh huh.”

She ignored his shit-eating smirk as she passed him on the way downstairs, only vaguely acknowledging that he said goodnight to her.

Chapter 34: Readiness

Summary:

As much as they understand the plan, Blue and Z are both concerned about what they’ve signed up for. More than that lingers in Z’s mind…

Sleep did not come easily and neither did a deep sleep find him. On one of the occasions that he shifted in the chair, Z acknowledged to himself that the upcoming day would probably be a terrible one.

After that, there was another time when he shifted, tired but painfully aware of his surroundings at Morrow’s Peak. Detecting the presence of something in the dark, he forced his eyes open, scanned the area, and then twisted around in the chair. Blue stood behind him, staring out the window to watch a distant volcano’s eruption.

“Can’t sleep, eh?” he said.

“Just as you cannot.”

Z ignored the bitterness in her voice and stretched out before adjusting how he sat in the chair, leaning his side against its back.

“So what’s keepin’ ya up?”

She regarded him for longer this time, clearly considering the topic. He halfway expected her to ask him to answer instead, so much so that he had started formulating a response in his head. Surprisingly, she answered him.

“I am considering what might await us. If you are right and there is a Skeleton Lord… what would that make us?”

He thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Hunters?”

“I… I am not sure I appreciate that notion.”

He smirked. “What, y’ don’t like the idea’a bein’ Skelly Lord hunters?”

The way she looked at him made him second guess having said that.

“Perhaps you do not understand. The hunting of Graymarrow did not end in some grand battle. It…” She sighed. “They ambushed him. While he rested. Is it really that different to stabbing someone in their sleep?”

He blinked at her words, both because of the subject and the mention of something that he had done in her presence not so long ago. A question stood above all other thoughts.

“Y’ don’t really feel bad about killin’ Graymarrow, do you?”

She turned to him, moving quicker than she had in a while. “I am not fond of the methods the Winter’s End employed,” she said sharply. Then, less so: “I understand that… that it needed to be done, but that does not mean it was done in an honourable way.”

Z couldn’t help his smirk. “Y’ might be in the wrong place if y’re concerned about honour …”

Groaning, Blue turned away from him, placed her hands on the map table and leaned heavily on it. She was quiet for a long moment before saying, “It is… complicated.” He made a curious noise and she continued: “I know it had to be done. It needed to be done. Something about the way they went about it… it does not feel right. It was so cowardly. And yet… I do not regret it…” The last few words were quieter.

“Graymarrow was a monster. If he could be slain by lesser means, in normal combat, someone would have done it long ago. I know that, but I still feel…” She shook her head.

“Icky about it?” he suggested.

Blue was still for a long moment. When she turned to look at him, her expression was too subtle in the darkness to even try reading.

“I… I do not feel bad about it at all.”

Z blinked at that. Was she supposed to feel bad about it? They had literally fought for their lives and souls. Given the way that she spoke about it, the only ‘right’ way to go about the matter would have been to meet Graymarrow on the open water in fair combat. That was definitely not the way to go about that fight. Or was he wrong and the run-in with Graymarrow changed the way she thought about things? Probably. Being hurt the way she had been would change anyone, and now Blue’s manner of speech was more casual sometimes. He still wasn’t entirely sure why that was, or why she no longer hid herself from him. The more he considered the matter, the more of a headache he got.

“I am hungry,” Blue declared.

And thank Ramsey’s ghost for that.

“Yeah, same.”

He tried to stand and nearly fell over, pegleg still sitting on the desk. Blue made a noise and when he looked, she seemed rather amused by what had just happened.

“Aw, shut it.”

She allowed herself a small laugh that made him feel a little better.

*

The sun was soon to begin rising above the horizon and that meant that they still had some time before meeting the crew of the Octavia for breakfast. They split a ripe mango while seated in the crow’s nest, watching the sky change colours.

Z was sat on the floor of the crow’s nest as he usually was, hanging his legs over the edge through the railing while Blue sat beside him on it. While he had been content to sit up there in the quiet and ponder her personality some more, she had thoughts too loud to keep to herself.

“If there is a Skeleton Lord at Tribute Peak, is there anything I should know?”

He tilted his head to look up at her, only partially hiding his amusement. “I think I oughta be askin’ you that.” When she gave him a curious look, he added, “Y’re the one that killed Graymarrow.”

“I—” She caught herself, looked away and he wondered what the hell that had been. He was astonished when she said, “I hardly think I can take all the credit — I doubt I would have survived as I had without your teachings.”

He couldn’t help a toothy smirk, pleased to know that he had aided her so much, and pleased that she wasn’t such a hardass that she couldn’t admit to it.

She looked at him. “Oh, would you stop that?” He couldn’t help the grin and she shook her head. “Besides, you helped.”

He bit the inside of his lip and looked down at the water, recalling the moment she was referring to. He’d never experienced anything like that before…

“Yeah, but y’re the one who killed him and fought him the most. You did that.” Blue made an unimpressed noise and he insisted: “It was all you. ‘Sides, I’ve never fought a Skeleton Lord before.”

“You what?”

They stared at each other for a moment.

“You what ?”

“I… I’ve never fought a Skelly Lord before then?” he repeated. “Y’ know, ‘cause they’re bad news at best and Graymarrow at worst? Or, well, that’s how it used t’ be, I guess. Now…” He put a hand on his chin. “Well, I guess all the really, ah… problematic ones are dead.”

“… dead skeletons?”

He rolled his eyes. “Y’ know what I mean: they ain’t kickin’ around anymore.”

She snickered quietly. “Yes, yes, I know what you mean.” Her eyes went back to the horizon. “So I suppose that means that you are as unschooled as I am in this regard.”

Z nodded. “An’ I don’t think any’a those pretty gally pirates know any better than we do.”

There was a pause before she laughed, a rather loud, genuine laugh. “Ah, here we are, the blind leading the blind to our doom.”

Stunned by the sound, it wasn’t until she was done talking and then some that Z gained quite the grin. For once, Blue sounded excited, and though the dangers before them were extreme, potentially soul-threatening, he was glad that they were on the same page.

*

Z despised phoney small talk. They hadn’t been in the tavern for very long, just long enough to sit down with the others and get drinks from the tavernkeeper. So far, no one had said anything meaningful.

“So we’re goin’ t’ the Shores of Gold,” he said, cutting one of the Octavia’s crewmembers off. He ignored the looks he got. “Right?”

“Right,” their captain said. “So that means you’ll come with us?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Blue look at him. She had been insistent on going through with this, and if that was how it was going to be, then someone needed to look out for her.

“That’s right.”

The three crewmen quietly voiced their excitement; Garrett sipped at his grog but somehow looked relieved.

“I’m glad for that,” Madeleine said, nodding. “If the rumours are true—”

“Y’re gonna need all the help y’ can get.”

She nodded, giving a small ‘mhmm’. “And I can think of no other pirates alive today who are better suited to taking on this challenge.”

Z almost made a very impolite statement about his and Blue’s role in all this but refrained, reminding himself that most people didn’t appreciate being talked down to, even if the statement was a true one.

“That does raise concerns over arrangements, however.”

Everyone looked to Madeleine, curious.

“I have already thought that over,” Blue piped up. “If you have no qualms, we will follow you as far as we can before we transfer onto the galleon.” When she was given curious looks, she explained: “The Shores of Gold are far north, yes? So far that by the time we reach that part of the Devil’s Shroud, we will be quite far from any volcanoes. I would prefer to leave my sloop somewhere there rather than leave it to chance here.”

And when this was all said and done, it was that much less distance for them all to travel together. Z liked this idea very much.

Madeleine made a thoughtful noise. “It will slow us down, but…” She nodded. “We are used to travelling quickly, but this is a special occasion indeed. It is a good idea — even the volcano here erupts every so often.”

“Precisely. Anywhere else that is safe is out of the way of our path, correct?”

Madeleine nodded again. “If we are to go north from here. That’s where everyone seems to think the Shores of Gold is.”

“Why not make a day-stop at Galleon’s Grave?” Rezin now suggested. Everyone regarded him before he continued: “Leave the sloop there, yeah? We might even be able to get some information out of someone with how close the Shroud is there.”

“It’s a wonder that Galleon’s Grave don’t get eaten up by the Shroud every now and then,” Bean commented. That garnered some murmurs of agreement.

Steering the conversation back on topic, Blue said, “Going to Galleon’s Grave is a good idea.”

Everyone looked around the table and no one voiced any disagreements. The momentary silence that had settled into the group disappeared when the first round of plates came to them. Though they had shared a piece of fruit earlier, Z found that he was ravenous. As much as he felt the conversation was done and over with, he knew he would be expected to sit and eat with the group so he begrudgingly did so.

Normally, in a situation such as this one, Z would let Blue do the talking and only comment as he felt was necessary. Now he was surprised by how quiet she was. It was a polite silence that she carried, but it felt so strange.

Rezin had just finished explaining how he had met Kata quite some time ago and then again more recently when that prompted a question from Blue.

“And surely you have room for one more?”

That seemed to have perplexed the quartermaster, who then looked to his captain. Madeleine nodded. “For a time, at least.”

“Oh, I’d rather not intrude anymore than I must,” Garrett said. “I’m only going with you because you insist so.”

That seemed to please Blue and Z found that he felt a sense of relief. There was no way he could have tolerated that man on the sloop with them. Tolerating him and four others on a gally that wasn’t his… that he could manage, if only just.

Not so interested in being involved in the conversation, Z forced himself to quickly finish his breakfast without being obviously rude. Captain Montagne still noticed.

“Is something wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said a little too curtly than he had meant to. “We got a long ways t’ go t’ get t’ Galleon’s Grave so I’m gonna go get the sloop ready’s all,” he said, standing.

As he made his way through the tavern and out the door, he heard Blue say something about helping him. She had eaten maybe half of her plate, so that surprised him. Just out of view, he waited for her, and when she sauntered past him, he quickly placed himself beside her and they made their way down to the dock together.

“You good?” he asked when they made it onto the Forlorn Phoenix’s mid-deck.

“They are going to ask,” she hissed, not looking up from the books on the desk, then suddenly ducking down into the hold.

Bewildered, he followed her. In the short time she had left his sight, Blue had procured the bottle of pain reliever and opened it. She now appeared to be considering how much she wanted.

“Ask what?”

“About Graymarrow,” she said.

“Y’ don’t hafta tell ‘em,” he said. Blue gave him an incredulous look and he quickly added, “‘Bout the fight with him. It…” He made a thoughtful noise. “Y’re worried ‘bout… tellin’ them all about it? I don’t think it’s any’a their business.”

She huffed. “They have asked us to join them—”

“They prob’ly would’ve asked any crew t’ join ‘em. They’re lookin’ fer meat shields.”

For a long moment, she stared at him. Then: “There is a Skeleton Lord.”

Z wasn’t sure. Maybe there was, maybe not. He figured there would be one, and maybe the others did, or perhaps they were being abundantly cautious. With all the stories he had heard… Well, whatever the case was, he couldn’t know for sure. He shrugged.

“‘Member what I said? People avoid ‘em for good reason.” Feeling brave, he then added, “Y’ know why now. You know and all they can do is guess what it might be like.”

Blue huffed again and looked away from him. She still contemplated the bottle in her hand and, still feeling bold, Z gently put his hand over hers. She slowly looked back at him.

“Get some rum instead, would ya? That’s more fun than sleepin’, and y’ve been doin’ a lot’a sleepin’.”

Her gaze remained steady. Z didn’t get the feeling that she was really in much pain right now. No, this was something else, something that he wasn’t quite sure what to make of.

“Fine,” she finally said. She pulled her hand away from his, corked the bottle and put it away. Then she declared, “But I will be of no help sailing.”

“That’s fine.”

“And if I do join you topside, I make no guarantees that I will not fall overboard and I will blame you entirely for that.”

He chuckled. “Fallin’ over’s part’a the fun!”

Blue narrowed her eyes at him, but as she disappeared to the upper decks he got the feeling that she had made that face at him to avoid smiling.

*

The wind had been good to them, giving them a crosswind that allowed the sloop to fly north and reach Cinder Islet in no time at all. That did mean that they were fairly close to a sea volcano now, something that would no doubt upset Blue. Z didn’t stress over it; he would be awake for a while still. Hell, if anything, an eruption would be a good excuse to get the ship moving again.

Before they had left, Blue had gone up to the tavern to talk to the others. According to her, they were quite understanding of their desire to leave so soon, the sloop’s significantly slower top speed a reasonable excuse.

When she returned to the ship, she had done so with freshly bought Devil’s Rum and a crate of dried provisions. Her comment from that morning lingered on his mind. Even when she joined him up on the quarter-deck, bottle of rum in hand, shared a little bit with him and agreed with him about the meat shield thing, it lingered, threatening to distract him.

Blue did not like the way that Graymarrow had been handled, but she understood why it happened that way. Most strangely, by her own admittance, she did not regret it. That was good — he was loathe to explain more of Graymarrow’s atrocities to her. Still, the encounter had left quite the mark on her and he was beginning to realise that it wasn’t just on her arm.

Truth to be told, something felt different about himself, too.

More than ever, he wanted to be sailing, to be stood at the helm of a ship and feel the wind on his face. She was asleep, however, and she very much needed that rest. Instead, he would patiently sit at the desk, doze a little bit, and wish that they had picked up a set of dice or dominoes so that he could play a game while he passed the time.

*

“Y’ still think they’re gonna ask?”

Sitting on the deck with her good shoulder leaning against the mast, Blue stopped looking at Galleon’s Grave and stood to turn to Z.

“About?”

“‘Bout Graymarrow.”

“Oh.” She looked away. “Perhaps.”

“Still agree that it ain’t any’a their business?”

“It… It is, though,” she argued. She huffed and added quickly: “I don’t like thinking about it.”

“I don’t either,” he admitted. “I still don’t think it’s any’a their business,” he firmly repeated. Blue seemed unconvinced. “And if any’a them come askin’, y’ come t’ me and I’ll set ‘em straight.”

There was a subtle uncertainty to her expression. She did not speak, and as he looked her over, Z could see more of it. She didn’t seem to embrace this solution, but eventually, his stern expression got a nod out of her. That was good enough. If he didn’t like thinking about it, he couldn’t imagine how she felt about it.

“Let’s go get dinner,” he suggested, stepping out from the mid-deck to join her.

Blue looked south to where the Octavia sat. They hadn’t noticed it right away, but when they realised the ship had reefed its sails, Z saw that the little rock she was at had a building on it. He couldn’t remember if the rock or the building had been there before or not, what with the weird place on the edge of the Sea of Thieves where it resided. His curiosity was not strong enough that he asked Blue what she thought. What he did wonder, however, was what Blue was thinking otherwise as she had been very quiet. She finally noticed his look and looked back.

“That is a fine idea.”

“Mhmm.”

When his gaze didn’t let up, she added, “I am sure they will be here tomorrow morning.”

He put his hands up his hips as he looked back to the galleon. Despite his comment of how they probably looked in their eyes, he found that he would have been annoyed to not meet up with them. That would mean that he and Blue could go back to minding their own business, but still…

“Probably. Now, let’s go eat.”

*

When noontime came around, Z couldn’t resist teasing his crewmate about the Octavia not being there yet. Her response had been less energetic than he had hoped for, only groaning at him.

“That medicine still makin’ y’ tired?” he asked, trying to save the peaceful mood.

“Something like that.”

They both sat at the desk as had become routine, him on the edge of it and she in the chair. He leaned closer to her.

“ Somethin’ like that?”

She groaned again, loud and exaggerated, and he knew that she wasn’t having a good morning. The Octavia’s tardiness was only compounding whatever her problem was. Thankfully, she spoke without him having to coax the words out of her.

“I have been considering the… accommodations we may be facing.”

“Like?”

“Like the sleeping arrangements. A galleon is spacious enough for a crew of four, perhaps five I suppose, but two more to make seven… I can only imagine the chaos of crowding.”

That was a reasonable concern to have, but it seemed like there was more to this. “Is that it?”

“I think I will have better luck sleeping on the floor than in a hammock.”

He rose a brow. “Still…?”

“Still.” Blue absentmindedly brought her hand onto her shoulder, her expression shifting to one of thoughtfulness after a moment. “Perhaps removing the stitches will help with that.”

There might have been some truth to that statement. As far as injuries went, hers had been a significant one and he knew how uncomfortable just a few stitches could be. To have that many, and to have them in for so long…

“I’ll get yer kit.”

He dove down into the sloop’s hold to dig around for her sewing kit. He took his time, mostly to give Blue time to prepare herself. When he returned, he was somehow still surprised to see her without a shirt on. Or was it the scars that unnerved him so? Perhaps it was both. He hoped he never got used to it.

“How’s yer shoulder feel?” he asked. When Blue shot him a glare, he quickly added, “The stitches, I mean. Skin healed?”

She made an aggravated noise but dipped her chin slightly.

“I’ll start pullin’ an’ make sure of it.”

Without words, Blue handed him her dagger after he grabbed the tweezers out of the box. He nodded his thanks.

“Y’ want me to start from the front or back?”

“Back,” she said, “so that I do not have to lean forward for so long.” She leaned forward against the desk on her good arm, the other simply resting upon it, and closed her eyes, steadying herself.

Though he had seen it before, it still made him uneasy to set his eyes upon her injury. Z let his eyes linger on her back longer than he should have, tracing over other long-since-healed scars. He shook his head and carefully began to undo the stitching at its base near her shoulder blade.

It didn’t ooze blood, nor did her skin come apart. That was all good. He pulled some more at the stitching and noticed it tugging at her skin. “I might make y’ bleed some now,” he said, realising that they had probably left them in for too long.

Blue weakly grunted an acknowledgement to him.

By the time he made it up to the top of her shoulder, he made good on that warning. A few small crimson droplets seeped out from where the stitching had been unwilling to leave her skin. Z knew from experience that it was a deeply unpleasant experience; her calmness impressed him.

“All right, we’re done,” he declared a short time later.

Leaving her dagger on the desk, he turned away to toss all the trash into the water. When he turned back, Blue had already gotten her vest back on and was currently in the process of getting her heavy coat on. Z bit the inside of his lip, a little jealous of her layers. He must have been staring because Blue looked at him and made a noise to get his attention.

“What?”

“What— you— You are just standing there with a stupid look on your face.”

Yep, he’d been staring. Z shook his head and stifled a laugh.

“Well, the Octavia’s still not here so I think I’m gonna go buy meself a jacket. It’s cold.”

Blue managed to look annoyed about that. She didn’t voice her thoughts, though, only taking a breath in and sighing. He gave her a curious look.

“It seems we will not be leaving this outpost for a while still.”

“If they get in soon, we can still leave before it gets dark. With seven of us, we can take turns sailin’—”

She made a noise. “This is going to be quite the adventure, is it not? Should we really be leaving so late in the day?” They looked at each other for a moment. “It would be best for all of us to be present and awake during the crossing, yes?”

Reluctantly, Z nodded. It seemed that they were in a silent agreement that passing through the Devil’s Shroud was one hell of an undertaking. It made him wonder what her entry into the Sea of Thieves had been like, but if he wasn’t willing to share his, she certainly wasn’t going to tell him about hers.

“Y’re not wrong,” he said. “So y’ think we’ll leave t’morrow mornin’ at the soonest?”

“Seems that way.”

Blue looked past the deck out to where the Octavia was, the great ship still but a spot in their vision. He followed her gaze and they stared out into the open ocean for a time until he stepped around the desk and onto the main-deck.

“Anythin’ y’ want from the shops while I’m up there?”

She looked to him, then stood. “I could go for something to eat.”

He made a noise back to her and they stepped onto the island together.

*

Tired of sleeping vertically in that damned chair, Z had collected a pillow and a blanket large enough to lay on and wrap around himself so he could sleep on the sloop’s canvas top back. Blue’s usual sleeping spot wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t bad at all, in fact. Why she preferred it over the bed she could have been using before they met — well, that had something to do with the scars, didn’t it? The same thing went for the dagger she was so fond of.

Z was getting tired of thinking so damn much about that.

Once again, he was failing to get a good, restful sleep. It was sometime after the fifth time that he rolled onto his other side that he realised he heard something and lifted his head to see a galleon entering the calm waters surrounding the outpost. A secondary look identified it as the Octavia . Unperturbed, Z stayed where he was and only vaguely listened to the crew’s docking process, dozing through it. When he later heard steps along the dock coming his way, he cracked an eye open just in time to see Rezin contemplating boarding the Forlorn Phoenix .

“Step foot on this ship and I can’t guarantee yer safety,” he warned without moving.

“Huh. Ah.” The quartermaster looked at him and then looked over the little ship. He seemed to take the hint. “Well, when you and your friend wake in the mornin’, the cap’n would like for us all to have breakfast before setting out as one crew.”

“Got it.”

Rezin looked him over once more before nodding and taking that as his cue to return to the galleon.

With that done, Z rolled over once more and tried to get some sleep.

Chapter 35: Shroudbroken

Summary:

Galleon’s are great. People are not.

Z despised being in this situation again, sitting in a tavern with a bunch of people he didn’t like. Yes, he had agreed to join the Octavia’s crew and Garrett on this quest, and it did make sense to gather as many bodies as possible when considering the danger, but that didn’t mean he had to like them.

Blue had been right, too. Rezin was the one to finally ask, “So how’d you two best Graymarrow?” and it took all of Z’s self-control to not launch over the table and strangle the man when she tensed up.

She stared at him and he stared back. The rest of his crewmates were, to differing degrees, intimidated and got the hint to not push the subject, but it seemed he would not yield.

“We did what no one else did,” Z deadpanned. He was only just aware of the slight snarl that lingered on his face.

“That is putting it mildly,” Blue said as she wiped her face clean. Then she was on her feet and out the tavern door.

All of the others looked dumbfounded, embarrassed even, except for Rezin. Z could tell he was the sort to stand his ground and refuse to admit any wrongdoing. Everyone was surprised by Garrett bopping him on the back of the head after a moment.

“Boy, haven’t you any sense?”

It hadn’t been a particularly savage strike, just one that conveyed how rude he had been, and Z decided that was enough for now. He, too, found his feet and made his way out the door. He stood there for a moment to consider things before leaning against the wall beside the threshold. Hearing incoming footfalls, he looked up in time to see Blue take him by the wrist and drag him away from the building.

“What’re you—”

“Enough,” she said firmly as she led him up the hill along the western side of Galleon’s Grave.

He gave a flustered hiss. Z hadn’t decided for sure that he was going to surprise the other man with a well-earned punch, only considered it! How calm Blue was dumbfounded him long enough that he blindly followed her quite a ways up. They came to a stop on the platform that was above the weaponsmith’s shop and she finally spoke again.

“Were you really about to start a fight before we’ve even left the outpost?”

Z wanted to argue the matter and he showed this by silently glowering at her. Before he knew it, she was pulling his ear, firmly stating, “You will not start any fights with them. We will keep the peace however hard it may be, no matter how hard we must bite our tongues.”

His eyes shot to hers and he stammered, desperate to argue the matter. He froze when he saw just how tired yet certain Blue looked. They stared at each other for a long time before he pulled his head away from her grip, huffing.

“Fine.”

“He is young, and—”

“All right, fine!” he said louder, throwing his hands up in the air. Blue looked annoyed and he regretted that. “I get it: no fightin’ no matter how much they deserve it.”

He was surprised when she gave him a small laugh. Z looked more closely at her as she said, “Precisely.”

She didn’t seem angry like he had thought, only… tired? Uncertain once more, he asked, “Y’ still sure y’ really wanna go do this?”

She tilted her head slightly, a small smile on her face that he couldn’t quite pinpoint the tone of.

“This’s the point’a no return,” he warned.

When her expression stayed strong, he took a step away from her, considering the matter, the transfer of ships. He turned back, scratching at the side of his head, thoughtful but mostly trying to rub away the tingling of her touch.

“What’re you lookin’ for?” he asked. When Blue recoiled, he added, “What’re you tryin’ t’ get out of this?”

It was controlled, but she looked rather stunned. Z couldn’t place what exactly that made him think, especially not when they stared at each other for what felt like forever. She turned away, a hand on her chin, and he expected her to say something, anything in response, but instead, she changed the subject.

“In way of personal effects and supplies, the galleon is ready. Captain Montagne has not asked us for anything.”

Z put his hand on his hips, but as much as he wanted an answer, he didn’t push it. He only looked away, staring out to the south. “And when it comes t’ sleepin’…?”

“I will make do,” she said. He knew he didn’t look convinced because he was far from it. Blue rolled her eyes and insisted, “I will be fine.”

Somehow, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she wouldn’t be.

*

“I apologise for my man.”

Z could hear the ship’s captain talking to Blue on the dock from the middle of the Octavia’s main-deck. He put less effort into eavesdropping after hearing that, dipping down into the mid-deck.

They had officially been invited to join the ship and given total freedom to roam about it, something he intended to use to his advantage. For now, at the stove against the ship’s starboard side, Bean going through one of the food barrels before they departed caught his attention.

“Hi!”

“Hi,” he responded far more calmly, a little perplexed by the other’s eager friendliness. He leaned against the base of the staircase and crossed his arms. “We good on food while we’re out there?”

“Yeah, we are,” she said, closing the lid with an excited nod. “Plenty’a fruit ready to eat and more that’ll be ready as we sail.”

“How ‘bout fightin’ food? Mangoes and pineapples?”

“We’re good on that, too.” She looked… confused? “But I dunno what we might need that for out there.”

Z couldn’t help a small smirk, shrugging. “Eh, y’ never know.”

Bean paused and considered his words before nodding in understanding. “I wish we had some meat t’ bring, though. Oh! Maybe there’ll be some special fish in the Red Sea t’ catch!”

“I don’t think—”

“Do you guys have any fish t’ bring?”

He bit the inside of his cheek. “Not anymore.”

He knew that his response was a weird one and it visibly made the other pirate think, but that wasn’t a bad thing, he decided. Thankfully, despite her apparent dumbness, she seemed to understand enough to not ask and only nodded, turning to the other food barrel. Z took the opportunity to pass by the other side of the map table in the centre of the area and keep going along the deck.

Against the aft wall, beside the hatch leading to the hold, were barrels that held ammunition and planks. In his opinion, it wasn’t the best place to store these things, but it was the standard on a galleon and most pirates didn’t complain. That being the well-accepted place for those things made it easier to check the supplies of an enemy ship, he supposed. He personally liked having a crate in a gally’s cabin or straight up on the main-deck.

Aboard this ship was a reasonable amount of plank and munitions. More was always better as far as Z was concerned, so long as the ship wasn’t substantially slowed by the supply, but this was… reasonable. No, where they were going they should absolutely not encounter any other ships — no other people — but nothing was ever a certainty on the Sea of Thieves.

Briefly, Z wondered what a barrage of cannon fire from a galleon would do to a Skeleton Lord. That’d just be too easy though, wouldn’t it?

Like all galleons, the lowest deck was a mess of barrels, crates, and personal spaces. There were two hammocks strewn from the ceiling in the middle of the ship that clearly belonged to the permanent crew. Garrett was busy stringing up a hammock that was surely going to be his towards the front of the hold. The brig’s door was ajar and it generally looked unused.

Now that he was wondering where he and Blue would sleep, he was suddenly struck with the realisation that they were really doing this.

Returning to the main-deck, Z looked about. Though she was busy cleaning a cannon, Kata paused to look at him when she noticed how lost he looked.

“Hey, where—”

“Cabin.”

“Thanks.”

Stepping in, Z decided that it was probably expectations and rules to be followed that the captain was going over with Blue. She was sat at her desk while Blue stood before it — and he took his place beside her. When a ‘no fighting’ comment came up, he was certain that was what they were talking about and he wasn’t sure that he could be more bored of a conversation he had heard less of.

“I will explain everything we have discussed thus far with my shipmate when we are done here,” Blue said.

Madeleine was a nice woman and all, but Z could only just tolerate a gally captain in the best of times. He never really liked any of them for one reason or another, and though he couldn’t pinpoint one for Madeleine yet, he was sure it would come up eventually.

“As for sleeping quarters, we have plenty of room downstairs for hammocks to be strung—”

“Forgive me,” Blue interjected; “but I may have more luck being comfortable on the floor.”

That statement caught the other woman off guard. Z supposed that without any context, being told that would surprise anyone.

“Is…” Madeleine cleared her throat and tried again after a moment of extra thought. “Would it help to give you the cabin bed?”

That surprised Z. Hell, it seemed to catch Blue by surprise, too.

“… It would. But I would hate to intrude—”

“It’s no intrusion. I am happy to keep my guests happy.”

Blue looked stupefied long enough that Madeleine spoke again.

“Or am I offering the cabin to you two ?”

It took an effort to keep a straight face and not look at Blue. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep it that way.

“… We would appreciate that.”

He was the one getting stuck sleeping on the floor, wasn’t he?

*

It took very little time for the entire crew of seven to be ready for their departure. Z required just about nothing to leave and Blue made a point to pack very light; her not bringing her hammock — for either of them — did make him a tad annoyed, but he would live.

He got the feeling that Blue and Bean had spoken at some point before taking off as Blue had brought the crate of dried meat she bought way back at Morrow’s Peak aboard the galleon. That seemed to please everyone, perhaps more than the rum did.

When the time came to loose the sails, they did so slowly. Madeleine had taken to the helm, barked orders to those that would obey, which happened to be everyone but him, though Rezin had refused to allow Blue access to the fore-sail’s controls. That he did so out of the good of his heart, Z doubted very much.

As for him, he had been standing on the bowsprit for a while now. He liked knowing what lay before them and the position was especially pleasant on a galleon. The broad bowsprit of the ship was easy to keep his footing on and the way the ship handled waves was far better than a sloop or brigantine did. Something about it just felt good . Sloops might be cosy and brigantines might be delightfully fast, but neither compared to the might of a galleon, even if it was still a little thing compared to ships outside the Devil’s Shroud.

As he contemplated that their destination lay past the red mist, he was vaguely aware of Blue behind him. She had to sternly call him to get him to look back and join her on the forecastle.

“As far as I can tell, we will want for nothing supply-wise,” she stated, leaning her elbows on the railing. He watched her try and fail to get comfortable before standing properly again. She gave him a quizzical look.

“Nothin’,” he said, looking away. “How ‘bout the non-essentials?”

“That seems fine as well.”

“Mm.” He let the silence sit between them for a moment before saying, “But that’s not why y’ came up here t’ bother me, is it?”

She looked annoyed to be called out like that. Still, she regarded him seriously, asking timidly, “You… You remember your crossing, yes?”

He nodded. “And you—”

“Yes.”

“So we both know this might go t’ hell.”

“Rather acutely, yes.”

That calmed him slightly. And yet… “But that’s still not why y’re up here, is it?”

She huffed lightly. “It was a curiosity I could not shake. Besides that, however, I… I went over the books once more.”

“The ones y’ made me go save from the Winter’s End ?”

“Yes. In Garrett’s recordings of the entire fleet’s journey, I realised something: it was this crew that took down the other Skeleton Lord.”

“Briggsy?”

“Yes, that one.” They were quiet for a moment. “I could argue that their experience with Skeleton Lords is better than ours.”

“Did it talk about the fight?”

“Mm, no, and that makes me think they had very little trouble.”

“Or a lot of it and were embarrassed ‘bout it.”

“Perhaps. My gut says otherwise, and they did invite us along… Madeleine is either hiding something, or she is genuine in her want to share this experience with us.”

He couldn’t help a small smirk. Blue might have been a tad too paranoid for his liking, in not quite the right ways, but more and more was it uniting their thoughts.

“I agree.”

She gripped the railing for a moment, then nodded. “Whatever the case, none of them were forthcoming with this information. We — being us , I mean — have also not gone over the book that Grace gave them but I intend to suggest that we all go through it before disembarking, should we have the opportunity to.”

“Good idea. Should be somethin’ helpful in there, yeah?”

“I hope so.”

He didn’t like how uncertain she sounded then, but Z also trusted that she would tell him if she was so unsure about things that she had changed her mind. Then again, she was headstrong and that didn’t seem like her.

With the conversation done, he looked forward out to a seemingly vast, open ocean. It occurred to him that Blue was waiting to see if he had anything to add, so he looked back to her and said, “Guess y’ should go tell Madeleine ‘bout that then.”

*

Z wasn’t really sure how much time had passed. The steady wind of the day had carried them quite far. It wasn’t often he got to look around and see nothing close by. In his opinion, every landmass in the Sea of Thieves was close enough to one another to swim to, so this openness? It instilled a gnawing terror deep within his gut. He could only guess what the sight did to the others.

Blue was sitting on the main-deck, leaning against the gunwale beside the cannon closest to him; he wasn’t sure if she was reading or writing. Madeleine was still at the helm, standing beside the wheel with only a single hand on it, her other hand on the railing beside the Shroudbreaker itself. Garrett had taken to the cabin for reasons Z hadn’t bothered to listen for. Rezin had made himself comfortable on the deck, adjusted sails as was needed, and one of the other women had gone up to the crow’s nest.

It was just when Z was growing bored that he noticed a change in the air. It was slight but quickly grew intense, a foul smell that stuck to his mouth and demanded his attention. Alert, he was now aware that all around them the world had turned red from the sea to the air. He slowly backed down onto the forecastle, discomfort rapidly growing. Then, as the tip of the bowsprit exploded in a bright red cone that surrounded the front half of the ship, he understood. He turned back for a moment, spying a red glow coming from the Shroudbreaker itself. When the ship didn’t begin splintering beneath his feet and no one began choking on the air, he decided that its name was well-earned.

Surrounded by the Devil’s Shroud in the vast open ocean, it seemed they were in no danger of sinking. What a strange, strange idea. Z was appreciative of the charm, but it just wasn’t sitting right with him.

It seemed the others were of a similar mind. When he looked back again, everyone was present on the deck, taking in the sight of the Shroudbreaker’s work. Bean let out a cheer of excitement, their victory over the Devil’s Shroud well deserving of it. Rezin was stoic, contrasting Garrett’s expression of wonder from the main-deck, and Z did spy Madeleine smiling from the helm. He ignored all of them in favour of Blue joining him on the forecastle.

After another moment of being stupefied, he managed out, “Whacha think?”

Her eyes never left the aura as she said, “The Shroudbreaker’s powers are rather literal.”

He wondered if she would reach out and try to touch it. The thought briefly crossed his mind, then he decided he’d rather not potentially find out what a hook was like for a hand. The pegleg was bad enough.

“Yeah, it is,” he finally said. As true as that was, it was also blinding. Seeing through the fog being dispersed before the ship was nearly impossible. He glanced up to the crow’s nest for the first time in a while and hoped that Kata had a better view than they did.

With the Red Sea all about them, Z was rather on edge, even with the Shroudbreaker’s power piercing through it. He and Blue stood there for a time, silently observing the scene that Kata’s voice then sharply contrasted.

“Cap, there’s an island ahead of us!” she hollered from the crow’s nest. Madeleine looked up from the view, then back to it and back up again at Kata before calling an acknowledgement.

“Guess that’s where we’re goin’,” Z muttered.

“It must be,” Blue said with slight amusement. “I am almost certain we have not travelled far enough to properly leave the Sea of Thieves.”

He chuckled and said, “Unlucky for you, huh?”

Blue gave him a look that was both annoyed and amused and somehow he found comfort in it.

Less comforting was the call to raise sails — already? That didn’t seem right. It had come from Kata first, repeated by the gally’s captain.

Looking forward, he could just make out the silhouette of an island before them. He briefly wondered how they hadn’t run aground already when he realised that it was a massive island, still far out.

Blue seemed to be noticing the same. “That is…”

“A giant island way out there? Yeah.”

It was a truly massive island. The closer they got, the more of their vision it filled and Z was pretty sure it was larger than any other in the Sea of Thieves. He voiced that thought and Blue agreed with him. The whole crew had remarks to make about the landmass, calling them to each other from across the ship, and then those thoughts turned to what might await them there. Would there be another crew? Crews? People who lived there?

No one mentioned the lingering worry of a Skeleton Lord; Blue’s lack of participation in the conversation said plenty about that matter.

Finally, as they were closing in on the shoreline, the breaking of the Shroud ceased. Kata called something again. Z didn’t understand what had been said until he realised they were coming up on a gentle bay, a large rock in the middle of it. Reefing the sails had been a good idea.

Despite the rock, it wasn’t entirely in their way, not even for a galleon. Madeleine seemed to be a decent helm anyway, navigating around it with ease. Rezin pulled the back sails up for her as they got into a good position to stop.

As though to make doubly sure, Z realised he and Blue both had been leaning over either side of the ship’s bow to gauge how deep the water was. As though reading their mind, Bean jogged past them on the forecastle and jumped into the water. They looked at the ripples and then to each other before she surfaced, calling out, “We’re good!”

He looked about again and found himself wondering why it was called the Shores of Gold when the shoreline looked so normal. Sure, it wasn’t anywhere near as dreary as the Wilds looked, but neither did the area remind him of the comfortable Shores of Plenty, and certainly not of the hotter Ancient Isles. No, this… this looked like the Shores of Gold, he supposed, a unique place in of itself.

So they had made it.

The Octavia was still drifting to a stop when he leaned his elbows against the railing, ignoring the sound of Bean swimming to the ship’s side to climb back aboard. Nothing had greeted them, not by sea, and as far as anyone could tell, there was nothing on the land waiting for them. Not right here, at least. Being so massive and with a few peaks that easily contended with those of Galleon’s Grave or Shipwreck Bay or even Smugglers’ Bay, any number of people could have been spying on them. The island was impossibly huge.

“We’re gonna get lost here,” he muttered.

He saw that Blue had looked at him before looking back to the island; he kept his gaze on her, though.

“So it seems. We…” She sighed, glancing back at the main crew. She turned around and leaned back against the railing, looking over the deck of the galleon. For a moment she stayed like that; then she made a fist and gestured confidently with it before stepping off the forecastle.

She made her way towards the back of the ship, pausing underneath the helm to address the captain. “Madeleine, if we could speak?”

Said captain looked somewhat concerned but did nod to her. “Once we get properly stopped, we’ll all gather in the cabin.”

“That is a fine idea.”

Getting properly stopped didn’t take very long at all. The process was mostly complete when that interaction happened and all that was left to do was finish tying up the sails, dropping the anchor to fully stop them — and then pick it up at Z’s insistence — and checking their surroundings from the deck once more.

When the time came to assemble within the cabin, Blue chose to sit on a chest at the foot of the bed with her legs crossed. Bean invited herself to sit on the foot of the bed proper; Z stood nearby. Garrett stood politely near the door while Rezin sat himself in the corner across from them on another storage chest, arms crossed like he wasn’t interested in being there. Kata leaned against one side of the desk that Madeleine was sitting at with the gifted book before her.

“This is a journal by Captain Briggsy, given to us by the Pirate Lord. I’m not sure when or how it was recovered, but it is now ours for the time being,” Madeleine said, holding up the book in question. “He has given us some… advice.”

When the gathered group gave her a collective look of curiosity, she began to read the book’s contents to them. The first line was fine. The next, with its mention of the truth about this journey and confirmation that the island was indeed properly named Tribute Peak, only thickened the tension in the air.

Z didn’t need the reminder that the Devil’s Shroud was a moving entity, but he understood why it was mentioned.

“ Once ,” Madeleine read, “ it briefly fell away from Tribute Peak. This granted a man whose insatiable greed had poisoned his heart. What he found there transformed him forever. ”

He didn’t even need to look at Blue to know they were both thinking the same thing.

Madeleine read more but Z hardly cared. They were being tasked with taking out another Skeleton Lord. This made three for this entire fiasco by his count. Or was it four?

“ Succeed in your quest, and songs of your adventure will fill every tavern on the Sea of Thieves for years to come… Fail, and you forfeit your soul. ”

Z brought a hand up to his chin, playing with his beard. The scratchy noise he heard indicated he needed to shave, an amusingly mundane task considering what lay before them. Somehow, he figured Blue would still find time to pester him about it and he was surprised she hadn’t already.

“As far as I can tell, Briggsy’s writings here tell us everything we need to know to proceed,” Madeleine said.

It seemed no one was willing to openly speak up about their new task.

“She was talented enough to draw a map and mark where each vault can be found, each holding a… a medallion that goes to a carving of some sort. I imagine they function together as a key.”

Rezin shifted and asked, “Does it say what exactly it unlocks?”

“It does not.”

Z crossed his arms and found the floor interesting to look at. This didn’t sound good. He spoke up: “What exactly are we proceedin’ with?”

“Well, Briggsy explains here that all the vaults hold the missing pieces to a central chamber. She doesn’t say what filling in the missing pieces will do — I’m assuming it will give us something else instead of the four pieces. That is assuming there are four pieces…”

“Y’ don’t sound so certain.”

Madeleine sighed. “Briggsy couldn’t resist documenting her journey, but neither did she detail out the island’s secrets. She makes mention of sitting in the throne of a toppled titan after the compass vault yielded its secrets, but not… Well, she’s not clear about what that’s about, only makes mention of going through a door and down into tunnels.”

Bean wiggled. “I bet it’ll be clear as we go.”

Everyone looked at her in one way or another, annoyed or uncertain or amused or any combination of emotions. Z personally wanted to scream. Being asked to go take out a Skeleton Lord at the Pirate Lord’s behest was nothing to take lightly, but couldn’t they have been given some more specific instructions? Something clearer? And why now?

Normally, Z would have been all about an adventure like this, but Skeleton Lords were serious business and the only person he knew here wasn’t to be trusted in a fight right now.

Despite her condition and the growing bad news, Blue looked as certain as ever. She sounded it, too. “I am sure we have been given enough information to get started,” she said firmly. “Whatever uncertainties we must face, I trust we are clever enough to weather them.”

That seemed to help allay the fears of those who showed them. A confident tone could do wonders, and Madeleine’s wasn’t up to snuff. It seemed that Blue was also detecting this.

“There are four vaults, yes? And Briggsy documented her experiences with them?” she asked.

“To a degree.”

“Then we should carefully go over what information we have been given, and again tomorrow morn as I think it is rather late to get started. We would best use our time by splitting up and tackling the vaults as teams. Moving as one group may also attract unwanted attention, though three and four will still be quite capable of fending off any danger that comes their way.”

Madeleine nodded after a moment’s thought. “Those are all good ideas.” She looked around the room. “Any objections?”

Z shifted slightly; he didn’t like the idea of splitting up, but Blue had a good point. She had just better be in the group of four.

“How do we split the group up?” Kata asked.

“You two seem to work well together,” Madeleine said, pointing out Blue and Z. “Our strength comes from each other, but I think we can spare Rezin to go with you.” She gave him a look and he forced himself to remain impassive. “And Garrett can also go with you to make four.”

Z couldn’t have been more annoyed by the roster. He spied Rezin shifting slightly, as though he were of a similar opinion. Neither man voiced their aggravation, however, and Blue took that time to nod and accept it. Garrett seemed unwilling to rock the boat whatsoever, so his silence was unsurprising.

“Now,” Blue said, awkwardly scooting off the chest and making her way closer to Madeleine; “What does Briggsy say about the vaults?”

“She drew out a map of the island, marked the location and symbol of each vault, as well as her shipwreck, drew a pair of lines of… something, and also the main central vault. She doesn’t say anything about the southern vault, but she did draw three sets of symbols. We’ve seen them before — I’m sure it will make more sense when we investigate the vault.

“The eastern vault is also poorly documented. She only says that it was too easy for someone like her, but she does note that there were some… minions .”

The gathering looked at her and each other. No one openly asked and Z didn’t need to.

“The northern vault is best documented with a single sentence: Always four of the same but had to tread carefully.

“The western vault will likely require us to look around the island for a solution.”

Blue put her hands on her hips. Kata, who was looking over the captain’s arm at the book, also looked curious. It was Rezin who spoke up.

“What does that mean?”

Madeleine looked back down in the book and read, “ Up, down and all around. The ancients have hidden secrets in their structures all around this island. Guess it’s time to explore! ”

Z buried his face in one of his hands and groaned openly.

“These phrases are like riddles,” Blue said thoughtfully. “I am sure it will become more obvious what is required of us as we go, while hoping nothing has changed drastically since Briggsy’s recordings.”

“That’d be terrible,” Bean commented.

Murmurs of agreement came from the group before Blue continued.

“Then we have our plan for tomorrow?”

“Not quite,” Madeleine said quickly. “There are a few more pages. They are… concerning. Briggsy apparently had to fire herself out of a cannon to get somewhere. The throne, I suppose. She noted an abandoned sloop…”

“The Shroud does waver,” Blue pointed out.

“It does. Hopefully it will not do that while we are here.” The captain paused, tapping the desk with a finger before looking back down at the book. “It gets worse, though. She says that the tunnels seemed to go on forever. It seems she got lost. … Perhaps in more ways than physically. She said she could not sleep and felt like she was being watched. She even just says she feels like she’s going crazy. And—” Madeleine sighed before simply turning the book around to face Blue and pushing it towards her.

Z watched his shipmate approach the desk in earnest, bringing her good arm’s hand up to the book. She stared at it for a long moment before flipping back a page, recoiling slightly.

“Are… Are these eyes or gems?”

“I wondered that myself.”

Z and Garrett both shifted in curiosity; they looked at each other before Garrett stepped forward first, Z close behind as they came up behind Blue to look over her shoulder.

“Gems that are eyes?” he blurted out once he looked at the page. Blue shuddered.

“Perhaps,” Madeleine said.

Garrett nodded his agreement before pointing at a page with a swirl of arrows on it, one word in the middle of the maelstrom. Before he could speak, Blue did.

“What do you think ‘cold’ means in this context?”

“I haven’t any idea,” Garrett said.

When Blue looked to the others, she only got shakes of the head or shrugs. Z shrugged, too. With no ideas, Blue turned the page to the last. That was weird.

“Oh! Oh.” Garrett sounded surprised, then upset.

Referring to the drawing in the bottom right, Madeleine said: “That would be Wild Rose and George, with Briggsy in the middle. They were friends. The Marauder saved the couple’s souls from one of Graymarrow’s lackeys.”

“Interesting,” Blue commented in acknowledgement.

Garrett tapped at the page. “This is very strange,” he said quickly, garnering everyone’s attention. “These are the same runes Graymarrow coded his messages in.”

Blue looked particularly confused. Z felt confused about their confusion.

“He what now?” Blue asked.

“There were two items we needed to rouse Graymarrow from his rest,” Garrett explained to Z. He nodded for the other man to continue. “We took the orders from two of his captains — half of it was written plainly while the other half, the way to find the item, was written in glyphs.”

“Ah, I understand,” Blue said. “But Briggsy… hmm.” She earned herself some curious looks and started again. “Briggsy became a Skeleton Lord herself. But if she scribed these glyphs herself, then that would suggest that she and Graymarrow were somehow connected, yes?”

“Unless Skeleton Lords simply happen to know these things innately,” Garrett said thoughtfully.

Z just bit at the inside of his cheek.

“Whatever the case,” Madeleine started, motioning for the book to be returned to her, “we will have to find out tomorrow at the soonest. I would like to go over this some more, and for all of us to be well rested.”

Her crew and Garrett made noises of acknowledgement, but Blue still looked especially thoughtful. “I will be a moment,” she said before striding out of the cabin.

Z was not surprised at all to see her return with the three books he had recovered for her and set them on the desk before the captain.

“I would… like them back…” Blue cleared her throat. “But for now I think it would be best that you have them so you can go over all the information your alliance gathered.”

Madeleine had given her quite a quizzical look at her request, but in the end she nodded to Blue. “Thank you. That’s a fine idea.”

*

Z had spent much of that evening chewing at his lip or the inside of his cheeks. It was only when he tasted blood just after the sun had gone down that he realised how nervous he was. It had been such a long time since he had found himself somewhere unfamiliar. Knowing why they were there offered him no comfort.

Blue had spent some time at his side on the forecastle. Some of her time had been spent in the cabin with Madeleine and Garrett, both of whom had found everything in those books to be fascinating. He didn’t ask what they had been talking about exactly and she didn’t offer. Instead, they simply stood on the forecastle looking at the island until the cabin was vacated for them for the night.

“So lemme guess: I get t’ sleep on the floor,” Z said once they were in the room and readying for bed.

Sat on the edge of the bed just after having removed her jacket and pushing the blankets aside, Blue rose a brow at him. “Why would you do that?”

“Wh— whaddya mean? Y’ don’t mean t’ tell me y’re all right sharin’ the bed with me. Don’t y’ think those guys’ll get ideas—”

She looked at him, unperturbed. “One: it is larger than the sloop’s bed. Two: with all of your talk, I thought you might be glad this day has come; I am past caring. Three: they have gotten plenty of ideas in their heads on their own. What we do or do not do will have little effect on that.”

It was astounding that Z hadn’t chewed a hole through his cheek today. It was sore and he winced, earning another look from her. He looked away and rubbed at his face, not entirely sure of what to think of her words.

“Fine then.”

He heard her sigh. “What did you do now?”

“Wha—”

She gestured to her face, mimicking him. It was his turn to sigh.

“I’ve been thinkin’s all.”

“Careful with that.”

He rolled his eyes. “Ha ha.” When it didn’t seem like she was going to ask what he had been thinking about, Z wasn’t sure if he should offer. Talking about things was supposed to do one good, but was there any point?

“ Now what are you thinking about?”

He realised that he had been staring. He shifted and looked away. “It jus’… it’s just all not sittin’ right with me’s all. This crew should be ready t’ deal with anythin’ on their own.”

Blue’s expression indicated she understood what he was saying and he left it at that. They’d had this conversation already once before and while he didn’t feel the need to force it again, it was still a lingering concern.

“It does not sit right with me, either.”

Z got the feeling that she just needed to say something about it, and while he was glad that, once again, they agreed on the matter at hand, it astonished him to actually hear her say it. His expression must have announced that.

“It sits more wrongly with me when I think about refusing Madeleine’s offer. I cannot say why, exactly—”

“Y’ don’t need t’,” he blurted out.

Blue paused and then made a thoughtful noise once she looked away from him. Uncertain that the conversation was over, Z made his way over to her, standing nearby and crossing his arms expectantly.

“Can you sleep without a pillow?” she inquired despite knowing the answer. Apparently they were done with the previous topic. He nodded and she said, “Good; then you will have plenty of room if I sleep on my side.”

He understood a moment later: two pillows had been left on the bed. Blue took the one from the edge closest to him and put it up against the one against the wall.

He sat on the edge of the bed. “But can y—”

“We will find out. I am tired of sleeping on my back, anyway,” she said as she moved away from that side of the bed onto the other.

It felt like forever that she had been sleeping on her back, in her bed, and yet it still felt so weird to see her curling up on her left side, right arm propped up by the second pillow, almost going around it in a gentle hold. Judging by her shifting about, it wasn’t the most comfortable way for her to lie, but quickly enough did she stop, leaning forward partially onto the pillow.

“Y’ good?”

“This is fine.”

He didn’t feel totally confident about that, but he let the matter be. Reluctantly, he removed his pegleg and set it on the floor nearby before tucking his legs under the blankets. He spared a glance at Blue’s back before pulling her side’s blankets over her — earning him a small grunt come from her — and then himself.

Chapter 36: The Shores of Gold

Summary:

The galleon crew, Z is discovering, is not so bad. Tribute Peak, however… Well, Z’s still undecided about that. And other things.

Notes:

Today’s update is going up a little bit later than usual ‘cause I was sleeping. Things are a smidge weird for me as I’m moving next week. Sorry! lol

Z wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at until he heard someone say sloop . Briggsy’s crashed sloop was absurdly far inland, but he could distinctly make out the quarter-deck and the torn sail and the bowsprit — it was definitely a sloop that had impressively run aground.

For as much as her shoulder bothered her, Blue was still willing to show off how nimble she was. She slipped into the mid-deck with ease, but when the time came for her — and a book — to come back out, he took her good arm in hand and helped pull her out. He was just glad Blue wasn’t fighting him anymore when he tried to help.

“Well, it does not have any more notes in it,” she said as she looked over the letters.

Visibly annoyed by that, Rezin crossed his arms and asked, “What is it then?”

“Ah, it seems to be a recollection of Briggsy’s arrival here,” Garrett answered, looking over Blue’s shoulder.

She nodded. “Interesting, but not useful.”

Blue had brought a sling bag over from the sloop. With her shoulder the way it was, she couldn’t carry it and her rifle together and so Rezin had offered to carry it. She handed the book to him to put away within it.

Though Rezin did what was expected of him, he still asked, “Is this worth keeping?” Z found that he shared that sentiment.

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Blue said.

Garrett piped up: “Useful or not, it should be documented. Briggsy made history when she stepped foot on this island.”

“It doesn’t really matter, does it?” Blue gave him an unimpressed look. When his return expression was one of curiosity, she added: “She turned into a monster and was slain, yes? Her adventure here seems rather irrelevant.”

That didn’t seem right. Rezin didn’t seem to care about the matter while Garrett was clearly annoyed by her reaction. He couldn’t figure out why exactly, but her reaction just didn’t seem right to Z, not with how often she tended to her own log.

Z came up alongside Rezin and said, “Keep that book, would ya?” When he got a grunt of acknowledgement, he pressed further past the man, catching up to Blue as they made their way south.

*

They stood in a room underneath one of the peaks of Tribute Peak. Before them were four stone pillars, three of which clearly had cubes near their base which could be manipulated. The third one appeared cracked, though no one dared to comment on it.

Blue looked up from the book she had copied some of Briggsy’s notes into for the vault that they currently stood within. Those notes made the solution to the puzzle seem obvious enough, but getting to that point was less so.

“We need to light the braziers,” Rezin said, stepping around a corner of the slightly elevated table in the middle of the room. In every corner was a brazier, ready to be lit. “We had to do this before.”

Garrett looked around the room before settling on Rezin and the centrepiece. “So we light the braziers, turn the stones in the pillars…”

“Then press down on the tablet in the table.”

Blue looked at the book again and then back to the cubes in the pillars. Z wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but he thought all of this felt like a trap.

With his lantern in hand, Rezin asked, “We ready then?”

When no one else spoke up quickly enough, Z shrugged and put his hands on his hips. “Light ‘em up.”

Rezin went around the table, lighting three of the braziers before he paused. He eyed Garrett, who stood at the button, before lighting the final corner. The room instantly came alive. A stone door came down, cutting them off from the short tunnel they had gone through. Lighting up in an unearthly green hue, glyphs became visible on the cubes within the pillars. Most worryingly, water slowly began to pour into the room from a few openings in the walls. Not only that…

Standing beside it, Blue declared, “The third pillar is broken. The damage is not superficial.” No one had said it, but everyone had silently hoped that wasn’t the case.

“Well, that’s not good,” Garrett said. Everyone was taking in the rapidly changing situation in the room as he spoke, the water now touching the bottom of the stairs surrounding the table. “Guess we’ve got to try and hope for the best.”

“Indeed,” Blue said as she looked down at her book. “The first grouping is that of an arrow, a kraken, a boar, and a feather.” She lifted her head. “Check the pillars — do they have those shapes?”

Rezin and Z were already doing exactly that.

“I’ve got the arrow here,” Rezin said from the first pillar.

It took two spins, but Z found one on the fourth pillar. “Kraken here.” And in his peripheral vision… “Second’s got the boar.”

Blue was closest to that one, so she took the step she needed to spin that cube once. Even with one hand, it spun easily.

Garrett was stood at the table and took in the sight of the three pillars. “Arrow, boar, and kraken.” He awkwardly pointed at the broken pillar for a moment before appearing to decide against saying something. Then he spoke, “Are we ready to try this?”

“May as well,” she said.

No one had an argument to voice so Garrett pressed down on the button. It slid with a satisfying noise. The glowing images on the blocks lit up brightly then disappeared, new ones taking their place.

“That seems promising.”

Indeed, everyone was a little excited by that. Not drowning was always nice.

“What about the next one?” Z asked.

Blue looked at the book once more. “I think it is a ship, and a merfolk, a bird, and a snake.”

Rezin had the mer picture a moment later. Z looked at his block and had to rotate it three times — for it refused to rotate the other way — to get the bird symbol on his and then looked to Blue. She found the ship symbol on hers. Everyone looked to Garrett and he nodded before pressing the tablet again.

Once again, the blocks reset.

“All right, all right,” Z said with some positivity, nodding as he did. Despite the water’s slow crawl up their boots and the walls of the room, it seemed they were not doomed.

“And the last one?” Rezin asked.

“A turtle, a beetle, a kraken, and a person holding two swords above their head.”

The turtle was easy enough for Rezin to find. Z had little issue finding the kraken on his. Blue had to turn her block three times to find the insect on hers. Garrett pressed the button without prompt this time.

Between the second and third pillars came the sound of stone on stone, a door sliding down. Everyone gathered around it, saying nothing about the water at their ankles draining. Inside was a pedestal that presented them with a roughly circular object: a medallion, just as promised, with a marking on it of a shark that matched the etching in the stone just beside the entrance.

As she was closest to the little chamber that had just opened up, Blue invited herself to step forward and pick up the item. Z wanted to scold her, but nothing happened so he refrained from making a scene.

“Well then, that was easy enough,” Garrett declared, peering over their shoulders.

Rezin seemed less amused and instead pointed out, “We were quick. We should take that back to the Octavia and see if the others are done with their vault.”

*

From the crow’s nest, Z spotted them long before they made for the ship, skittering across the island, constantly darting in and out of his vision. The women looked absolutely exhausted by the time they made it back to the ship itself, the sun on its way down.

Sitting on the stairs leading up to the quarter-deck, Kata said with a slight slur of exhaustion, “We had t’ go all over the island.”

Blue and Z looked to each other, quizzical. Rezin shot straight: “Why?”

“Briggsy was serious when she said that the secrets were all over the island,” Madeleine explained after a greedy sip of grog.

“Some’a them were on moving things, too!” Bean cut in. “And there were skellies at the third spot!”

Kata just groaned and put a hand over her face.

Madeleine stared out at nothing for a long moment before shifting her gaze to her feet. “We got it done, though.” She paused before nodding to herself and holding up the medallion from the western vault, the markings of a ship upon it.

Not wanting to bother the exhausted group, Z stepped away, as did Blue, allowing Garrett and the galleon’s crew to socialise amongst each other.

“What do you think?” he asked her as they made their way to the forecastle.

Blue gave him a look, then asked, “What do I think about what?”

He shrugged. “Them runnin’ ‘round all day, I guess.”

They settled against the railing. Blue was silent long enough that he had doubted that he would get a response, then: “I am glad we did not have that vault.”

They could both laugh about that.

*

Getting into bed had been easier than it had been the previous night. Z had once again let Blue get settled in first before he curled up on his side, back facing her. He was comfortable enough, tired enough to sleep, and yet Blue was keeping him awake. They were slight movements, but she was constantly shifting a little bit here and there, what felt like every few seconds. He couldn’t help shifting slightly himself after a time, growing uncomfortable.

With one particularly obnoxious movement, Z lifted his head to look at her. More than a little tired and agitated, he couldn’t help blurting out, “Woman, I’m ‘bout t’ hold you down myself if y’ don’t stop movin’.”

After he had said it, he forced himself to lie back down and start thinking up an apology. Before he could speak it, he heard a noise of curiosity come from Blue. Bewildered, he sat up properly to look at her. She shifted again, noticed his stare, and sat up herself.

“What?”

“What do you— what? What do y’ mean what ?”

“I was only wondering what you meant and how you might go about it.”

Blue looked tired and that was the only reason he could imagine she said what she did. He stared at her for a long moment before tearing his eyes from hers, flinging himself back down onto his side. “Nothin’.” He ground his molars when he heard her laugh softly and could practically feel her staring holes into his back.

“What, is a brute such as yourself above enacting your will upon a cripple now?”

He absolutely hated everything in that sentence.

“Look, Blue,” he started, rolling onto his back and lifting himself on his elbows to look at her; “I’m tired’s all and y’ keep—” He had no idea what to make of that smirk on her face. “ What ?”

“Every so often you say something and that makes me wonder…”

“Oh for—” He gave an exasperated sigh. “Quit yer wonderin’! I’m just tired’s all.”

Blue made a face and looked away from him as though she was about to let the matter lie before turning her gaze back to him. He nearly kicked her for it; instead, he settled for a long exhale.

“What now?”

“I simply wonder what you might—”

He about screeched. “I’m not actually gonna hold you down or touch ya or enact my will upon ya! Or do anythin’ else y’ don’t want me doin’!”

Blue looked at him for a long moment. “Huh.” She looked away before shrugging as well as her shoulder allowed. “I have had enough of that for a lifetime, anyhow. What I am really curious about—”

“Wait, wha??”

“—is whether or not you remember your offer from some time ago.”

That was a lot to think about. That was a lot to take in. In not so many words, Blue had just revealed something about herself that he wasn’t sure he had wanted to know about and now a thousand ideas were taking root in his mind. Maybe it explained the scars. Maybe it didn’t. What did that mean exactly? It just raised more questions that he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to voice. And then bringing up his poorly worded offer from before the whole fiasco with the Winter’s End just compounded how baffled he was — so that night hadn’t been a weird dream.

Nervous, he asked, “Where we goin’ with this, Blue?”

“What about the things I do want you to do?”

The look on his face certainly felt ridiculous.

“What do you…”

She looked away and waved him off. “I am — mm, mostly I am teasing.”

“What—” So she was coming onto him. But… “Why?”

That stupid subtle look of amusement fell from her face with a huff and she finally admitted: “I forgot to bring my medicine.”

“Oh.” That… made sense, and yet he still found it difficult to believe he understood what she was getting at. “So y’re askin’…”

When he couldn’t quite put the thoughts into words, she did for him: “So I am looking for relief otherwise.”

Z must have looked ridiculous because he certainly felt it. This was crazy. Her reasoning made sense, but it didn’t help him shake the awkwardness. Surely anyone else in his position would be delighted at such a prospect, but not him.

“You can say no if—”

“It’s not that, it—”

He thought of Blue as a decent friend and that gave him reason to say both yes and no, but he couldn’t quite decide which was louder. How to voice those thoughts was another matter that was eluding him.

He sat upright and took a deep breath. “Are y’ sure ?”

“The alternative is that I do not sleep at all and keep us both up—”

She cut herself off by snickering and that seemed strange to him until he realised how warm his face felt and that he’d been staring wide-eyed. He tried amending that by grinding his teeth some.

Rather than tease him some more, she finally said simply, “But yes, I am certain.”

“Y’re really sure—”

“You may still say no.”

“No— not that, I’m—”

He groaned and buried his face in a hand. The words were impossible to find. Blue looked like she had to hold back a laugh, but at least she did if that was indeed the case. He took a moment to breathe before extending his arm out in invitation, one which she responded to by gently settling into his lap.

The uncertainty that plagued his mind disappeared the moment she kissed him.

*

The journey to the northern end of the island had been taken together as one big group. Madeleine led them up along the eastern shore after her group had discovered the day before that it had a beach along most of its length; the other side was more rocky and generally unpleasant to traverse. Things got wet as they neared the eastern vault — the Warrior vault — as the beach was only just above sea level. They split up there; Madeleine’s group went east while the other went to the northern vault.

Z wasn’t sure that he had said anything so far today and considering the trek they had taken, that was saying something. When they activated the puzzle of their vault, he swore along with the other three.

The room resembled that of yesterday’s with a table in the middle and four stone pillars along the wall past it, each with a block that could be turned. The moment the fourth brazier was lit, spikes had jutted out of the floor near the entry point — the door of which closed, just like the other — out of contraptions that were partially buried in the sandy ground. They began to lower just as more came out in a clockwise direction around the room.

Z and Rezin had jumped onto the table while Garrett and Blue fought the plants along the walls for safety.

“Shit. All right.” Blue had pressed her back against the wall between the third and fourth pillars. “This could be worse.”

“Really?” Rezin asked incredulously, raising a brow when he saw Garrett nodding in agreement.

“It could certainly be worse, my boy.”

Z was more concerned with watching the spikes that came out of the floor than bickering. Once they had gone around the room entirely, the spikes started again from the entryway, going in that circle endlessly.

Staring at Blue, he asked sternly, “What do Briggsy’s notes say?”

Holding the book up to her face, she read: “ Always four of the same but had to tread carefully. ” She looked past the top of the book. “That is an understatement.”

Garrett peeked out and watched another rotation of the spikes. The moment it was safe, he quickly stepped out from between the second and third pillars and repositioned himself to the spot between the first and second. As the spikes went around in another rotation past them, he and Blue looked at each other and nodded.

“From where you stand, you should be able to help us figure out what four we’re matching,” Garrett said to Z and Rezin. With everyone understanding, he then asked, “Do any blocks currently match?” They shook their heads and Garrett scratched at his beard. “What glyphs are present?”

“Uhh, it looks like two people under… a star maybe?” Rezin said, gesturing to the first block; he looked to the second. “Then a mer.”

Garrett looked to the side of the first block that faced him. “I have another mer here.”

Z pointed to the third block. “Fire and—” he pointed to the fourth “—a ship in the Shroud.”

Blue leaned back some, eyeing the third block. “I also have a mer…” She looked to the fourth one and began to turn it. “There are only three of that glyph.”

“So not that one.”

“There’s the fire, people, and ship ones on the last three, though,” Rezin pointed out.

“One of those then.”

Garrett looked to the first block and turned it a few times. “I have the ship on this one. As well as fire…” He did the same to the second cube. “I believe we are matching the fire glyph.”

A few turns of each rotating cube proved that to be the case. Just as in the other vault, once the button of the table was pressed, the glyphs glowed brightly before fading away, new ones appearing in their place.

No one lingered on conversation, the looming threat of being impaled causing all four to be on edge despite their relatively safe positions.

They matched three more sets of glyphs before the door between the second and third pillars began to slide open, the spikes in the floor going through their rotation one more time before staying nestled in the ground. Everyone took a moment to confirm that they had receded for good before moving, finding a pedestal in the tiny room just like before whereupon a medallion sat. On the face of this one was a kraken, unmistakable, just like the stone etching outside.

“This could have been worse,” Garrett declared with satisfaction. Rezin gave him a look and he quickly added, “That is not to understate the severity of what we just endured.”

Z just shook his head and started back to the ship ahead of the others. They didn’t get very far before stumbling upon Captain Montagne’s group, their medallion in hand.

“We had to rebuild the symbol of a key before the room flooded,” she had explained. While that struck everyone as odd, it was Garrett who discerned why.

“That is peculiar — the rest of the vaults were positively Ancient in design.”

Blue picked up on his wording. “Ancient?”

“Yes, Ancient. As in: the people who lived here before and left behind all the stone paintings, the carvings—”

“I see.” She was quiet for a moment after her interruption, then: “That is rather peculiar, I suppose, but knowing what we know…”

The group mumbled its acknowledgement.

“I believe we know where these go,” Madeleine said, eyes upon the eastern vault’s medallion. “We discovered a path through the island that leads over to the western side’s peak. There was a stone face with a place to set all four of them in.”

Rather than head back to the ship, Rezin suggested, “We might as well head there and save us some time.”

No one argued that and so they went back south along the coastline. Madeleine pulled them further inland when they were about two-thirds of the way back to the ship, turning inland and then north up a slope above a waterfall. The path took them through the middle peak, winding west at a point. From there they could see the northern side of the island, three land masses pointing out into the ocean. In the middle was also a rock jutted out, a bridge bringing the two parts of the island together.

“That’s convenient,” Kata commented.

The path along this part of the island was shadowed by tall rock formations, including one in their way that forced the path to turn into two separate paths. Everyone stayed together, though it was noted that either path led the same way.

“I am quite certain that this is the Compass vault Briggsy spoke of,” Madeleine said as they began down a slope into said room.

Just as she had said before, there was a flat rock wall with carvings in it that looked like each medallion would fit into; the spots were even marked with the glyphs. The two medallions they had with them settled perfectly into their respective places.

“I guess we should bring the other medallions in,” Rezin said.

“Well, hold on,” Garrett interjected; “What exactly did Briggsy do after that?”

Madeleine opened the book to a later page. “She says something about sitting on the throne of a toppled titan… That must be referring to the lines of statues.”

Z rose a brow. “Statues?”

“Yes. This area north of the shark vault—” she flipped to the page with the island’s map on it and then held the book out for Z to look at “—There are two lines of giant stone people sitting in thrones. We found it yesterday when we had to run all over the island. One of the two closest to the water there was broken.”

“Wait,” Garrett said, realisation crossing his features. “Didn’t Briggsy say she had to use an abandoned ship’s cannon to get up there?”

“In not so many words, yes.” Madeleine thumbed through the pages to make sure of that and nodded.

“Can’t we jus’ climb up it?” Z asked.

Bean shook her head vigorously. “The stone’s too smooth to get a grip on.”

“So…”

“I’ll move the gally over here,” Rezin offered.

“I can help!” Bean chimed in as they stepped away from the group.

Kata shook her head before looking to her captain. “I’ll go make sure they don’t wreck the ship,” she said with amusement before trotting after them.

Blue had been lagging behind the group most of the walk over. Z had assumed she was tired, but as she rejoined them with another book in hand, he understood.

“It seems Briggsy left her records all over the island,” she said. She showed the books to them as she spoke. “This one was over there, and this one was on the path before the bridge.”

“Oh, we found one as well,” Madeleine said. “I thought perhaps it was a one-off thing.”

“Apparently not.” Blue looked to Garrett, his hand on his chin. “What?”

“We should go over those before we worry about heading into the island,” he said.

“I agree.”

Z wasn’t quite sure what about this bothered him. Blue at least seemed to pick up on that, even if she didn’t do anything more about it but eye him.

“We should make our way to the statues, yes?”

Madeleine nodded before starting back out of the vault.

*

Z really didn’t know what to make of all the thrones or the people sitting in them. Blue seemed to be of a similar opinion while Garrett had been absolutely fascinated by them. They let him and the captain worry about them while they stood underneath the broken statue, its head long since gone. At its base was an entryway, passage blocked by a stone door.

“I guess this is why we need t’ go in from the top,” he commented. Blue huffed and he looked at her. “What?”

“I could have climbed that before Graymarrow.”

“Oh. … Y’ sure?”

“I am certain. If the vines are sturdy, there are enough footholds to get up there.”

Z wrinkled his nose some. He wasn’t bad at climbing, but no way could he go up something that smooth. Blue had been making it a habit to climb up to the tops of islands before her injury…

“There’s enough people here that y’ don’t need t’ be the one doin’ this,” he said. Blue looked to him once again and he couldn’t pinpoint her expression, only stared back with a fraction of her intensity. “I mean that in the best’a ways.”

She tore her eyes away from him. “Sure you do.”

He gave an exasperated sigh. “I do.” Very deliberately — and gently — did he put a hand on her right shoulder. “And this ain’t the end’a the world.” He felt her tense up, refusing to look at him. “I promise. For now, let’s go see if the gally’s here.”

*

With the Octavia moved into the bay nearby, Madeleine, Kata, and Bean collected the remaining two medallions and took them to the compass vault. They weren’t gone very long and when they returned, they held a single, nice looking medallion with a Gold Hoarders key emblem on it. After that, they turned their attention to Briggsy’s books that they had been recovering from across the island.

By this point, Z wasn’t surprised that he and Rezin were the only ones who didn’t really care about them. He could somewhat appreciate that about the other man, but damn was he insufferable otherwise. He understood Blue’s mild enthusiasm, what with her writing all the time, but the other women and Garrett… well, Garrett seemed like something of a scholar now that he thought about it. Madeleine and Kata just seemed to have a normal case of curiosity.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to those journals. So far everything useful that Briggsy had written down was in the book the Pirate Lord had given them; everything else was just her adventuring.

“This likely means there are more to be found,” Garrett said as though he were thinking aloud.

“Probably,” Blue said sharply. “Not that these really matter.”

“Perhaps one of them will.”

She eyed him accusingly but said nothing more.

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Madeleine said. “It is worth documenting all the same.”

*

The night came and went without anything remarkable happening, much to Z’s relief. That morning, however, started with a gunshot. Blue was up and out the door before he was, what with his fumbling with his pegleg. When he was able to follow her, he understood.

On the beach nearest to the ship was a pack of skeletons. Two of them held swords, one held nothing, one a blunderbuss, and the fifth one a pistol, who had taken a shot at Rezin and missed. It did not live long to regret that mistake for he found purchase on a cannon to return fire with. That skeleton and the one beside it exploded into a mess of bones. The remaining three hissed at the situation they found themselves in but didn’t budge. Two more cannonballs dispatched them as well.

“That’s that,” Rezin said, brushing his hands together to rid them of gunpowder as he stepped down to the galley. Blue looked bewildered by what she had witnessed and Z just laughed.

Breakfast was eaten slowly or quickly depending on who wanted to be launched out of a cannon at a giant stone statue. Bean had no qualms whatsoever with this; Madeleine, Kata, and Garrett seemed eager enough while Z and Rezin both made their wildsplashes last longer than they needed to. And Blue… well, Z couldn’t see her participating in that, nor did she say or do anything to suggest she would. He certainly didn’t intend to allow her to anyway.

As she was the best shot, it was Kata who spent the time aiming the cannon at their intended target. Occasionally she fired a cannonball, and while it was far lighter than any of the people were, it still helped her gauge the angle. When the time came for someone to test it in earnest, Bean was happy to volunteer. The shot was astonishingly close, if a little high, thus causing her to land on a further inland statue.

“Hey! There’s a book up here!”

How… why? The sheer ridiculousness of that garnered some curiosity from Z.

When she was back on the ship, a soaking wet Bean handed Madeleine the recovered journal and it was read aloud to the group. Unfortunately, it was more of the same: interesting to those interested in Briggsy’s adventures, but holding no information relevant to them.

Z did spy something in Blue’s expression. Briggsy declared herself a good climber, and he knew Blue had the knack for it, too, but if the legendary adventurer hadn’t been able to climb the statues herself… did Blue still think she could have without her injury? The thought lingered in Z’s mind as the group’s efforts went back to getting the right cannon angle. It only took two more tries — and a few bananas — for Bean to land on the correct statue.

“Hey, there’s a hole here!” Without waiting, she dove down into the hollowed out inside of the statue.

Madeleine and Kata had given each other a concerned look before jumping off the ship and heading over to the statue’s base. A moment later and the rest of the group followed, assembling at the door that had just been opened. Bean was on the other side, a satisfied grin across her face.

“There’s a lever,” she explained, leaving on it.

“So there is,” Captain Montagne murmured. She peered past her crewman into the tunnel.

“There’s a door just down the way and before it’s a spot where it looks like the thing goes.”

Madeleine made a thoughtful expression before turning to look at the rest of the group.

“Are we ready then?”

The group looked amongst each other, everyone gauging one another’s readiness.

“We should go back t’ the ship and make sure we’ve got everythin’ we need fer a fight,” Z said. “That’s what I’m gonna do.”

Without another word, he turned to do just that. He heard the group quickly discuss that being a good idea before hearing them follow. Considering what lay before them, he wasn’t quite sure how that required any discussion. Doing that a bit later to fairly distribute out supplies was something he understood when the captain called everyone together, making sure everyone had their share of good food. A stern tone from her made certain that no one tried to play martyr.

Blue had tried to make a good case for that. Should she be injured any further, she would likely be worthless in a fight if not an outright liability. As far as Z was concerned, and thankfully the others were, that was all the more reason to make sure she was well equipped.

While they were downstairs gathering their weapons and ammunition, he nearly couldn’t hold back to urge to talk to her about that, but Madeleine had done a fine job of it; there’d be nothing more to gain by bothering her. He did notice her filling four pouches — two on either hip — with shot and powder for her musket.

“Not bringin’ a sword?” he asked, unable to resist that question. The look he earned himself was dirty.

“I cannot use a sword in a meaningful manner with either of my arms.”

He bit at the inside of his lip before huffing. “Fair enough.”

They said nothing more to each other as they prepared to depart.

When everyone was ready, they once again trudged through the water onto the island and grouped up before the corridor. It turned sharply for a second time and before them at the junction was a stone structure, a place to hold the medallion cut into it. Madeleine had already asked them before they hopped off the ship if everyone was ready; she looked like she was about to ask again. A nod from Kata kept her quiet and instead the captain simply slotted the medallion into its resting place. Golden light shimmered off of it before the door opened, half of it sliding into the wall on either side. Directly in front of them was a green and gold banner of the Gold Hoarders, their key-shaped emblem upon it.

Blue and Z looked at each other for a long moment.

Chapter 37: The Belly of Gold

Summary:

The night is dark and full of terrors, and so are the depths of Tribute Peak.

Garrett spotted the book first. He stepped to the left just past the door and picked it up out of the broken crate it was in, holding it up to show to the group. He went to pocket it and Blue reached out for it. The book exchanged hands and she quickly, silently, read it.

“Nothing useful,” she said, slamming it shut. Blue handed it to Rezin — for he still held her sling bag — and stepped forward, looking over the railing in front of them. “Oh my.”

The group came along the edge as well as they could; she could sense Z looking over her shoulder. They stood in a great cylindrical room. There were stairs leading down below, but they were crumbling, some areas missing entirely.

“This is… daunting,” Captain Montagne commented.

“The fires…” Bean could not resist pointing out the fresh lighting.

Blue rolled her eyes and stepped past everyone, going down the stairs and jumping over the first broken spot. She took the few steps she needed to reach the next one, jumping onto the next level platform. She looked up at the group for a moment, hoping they got the hint that it was embarrassing for the cripple in the group to be first. She didn’t wait for them, though, instead only somewhat listened to the sound of them moving behind her as she continued downward.

The downward spiral would have been dizzying had it not been slowed by the broken stairs. Every single one of them was in poor condition. Some parts had fallen all the way down while some parts from above had dropped from above to clutter the path.

At the very bottom was a spike pit. Blue didn’t look long at it, only long enough to notice that there were two people’s worth of skeletons in it. She heard Bean make a small noise of disgust behind her.

Up ahead was a rather open room. In it, too, was a spike pit. More curious was the broken bridge that had once linked the side they stood on to the other.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Garrett said.

Blue thought that was putting it mildly. Z’s lowered brow told her that he agreed. Something compelled her to take a closer look at the bridge and so she stepped over the cluttering of rocks, lantern in hand.

“This looks.. deliberate.” She looked over to the group, no one having followed her.

Garrett was most curious. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this does not look like it became old and weathered.”

“Y’ think somebody broke it on purpose?” Z asked.

“I do.” She looked to the side and a glint caught her eye. She took a few steps along the furthest wall. In a corner was another book. “And here’s another.” Blue picked it up, skimmed the beginning of it and stopped. “Huh.”

Z spoke up: “Come back over here and then read it.”

There was an urge to tease him and ask if he was concerned about her being so close to the edge, but considering the spikes… Well, she was in no hurry to find out how sharp they were and returned to the group.

“Briggsy says in this one that there were no Trading Companies when she first came here.”

“Ah yes, that was quite some time ago,” Captain Montagne said.

Blue desperately wanted to ask what happened to that. A world without those evils seemed so pleasant in her mind, but they had a task to focus on. Instead, she only made a thoughtful noise and handed the journal to Rezin for storing.

The entire time they had been stood there, noises had been coming from the only way forward they had. Now that it was time to start heading in that direction, the crew of the Octavia all had similar expressions of concern and that was worrying. Z spoke about it first.

“What am I hearin’?”

“Traps,” Rezin said simply.

Everyone watched, but no one tried to stop Kata from starting off without them.

“What he means,” her captain said quickly, “is that they are most likely moving structures meant to, ah… stop … intruders.”

Blue and Z looked to each other; Garrett was equally unenthused.

“It’s more of that shit we saw on Sailor’s Bounty!” Kata called from down the way.

Blue asked, “That being…?”

The captain sighed. “Probably moving spikes.”

Blue paused to listen to the noises more closely. It sounded as though these traps triggered, reset, and went off again.

“Are you… Are y’ sayin’ that the walls are gonna try t’ stab us?” Z asked.

“Impale is more like it,” Captain Montagne said. She looked between him and Blue and Garrett. “I won’t think less of you if you want to turn around—”

“We are already here, we might as well continue,” Blue said, already heading through the tunnel. She heard them hesitate before following her.

She had not been joking in the least. Stopping just behind Kata, Blue could see spikes jutting out of the ground, walls, and ceiling in unison. They retracted before jutting out once more, repeating this cycle, ready to catch anyone too slow.

Blue wasn’t sure if she had sworn out loud or not.

“I’ll go first,” Kata declared proudly.

With little effort, she watched the spikes’ cycle, judged it correctly and was then stood on the other side, waiting for the next person to come through. Blue hesitated just long enough that Captain Montagne pushed past her and also ran through the danger zone. After her went Blue, then Bean, and then Z, followed by Rezin and finally Garrett. Now the sounds of moving spikes could be heard before and behind them.

The group had to wade through a small pool to find the next set of spiked traps that Kata was eyeing. These ones only came from the walls of the gently curving tunnel but were equally deadly. Three of these trap lay before them, moving as one. Before she could say anything, Bean was pushing past her. A moment later and there was a simultaneous squishing and cracking noise from just out of view. Kata turned to look and if her face was anything to go by…

“Again?” Captain Montagne hesitantly asked, a hint of rhetoric in her voice.

Kata simply nodded; Rezin looked annoyed somehow. Blue looked to Z, who was already looking her way. She shook her head and put her hands on her hips. Down to six, they were.

With a sigh, Captain Montagne said sternly, “Everyone take it slowly and carefully. We don’t need to lose anyone else.”

That was a good way to spend the few moments needed to allow the Sea of the Damned to take away the body, Blue supposed. She had a strong stomach but she was sure that must have been quite a gruesome scene.

Getting the whole group past the trio of traps took some time as everyone was, just as asked of them, slow and careful, except for the very moment that required them to dash through the trap during its moment of reset. There was a sharper curve ahead of them and still could more traps be heard. No one said it, but Blue was sure everyone was wondering when — if? — it would end.

Next up was a pair of traps, each one made up of moving parts in the floor and ceiling. Blue thought that was rather ironic considering the last traps’ design, and the ones before those ones. Again, the group was careful and everyone made it through.

Rather than there being more traps, they now stood at the beginning of a bridge. This one seemed to be fully intact and that led to more credence to Blue’s suspicion that the other one had been broken. Beside them was a post, a bell hanging from it, earning curious looks from the group. Almost playfully, Z reached up and gave it a tap, producing a satisfying ring, and continuing onward. The others followed him until he abruptly stopped at the other side.

“Oh shit.”

“What is it?” Captain Montagne hissed.

“Nothin’ serious — it’s jus’ dark as hell here.”

He was not wrong. On the original side of the bridge was a brazier; to their left was a stone wall with glowing fungus on it and the tiny ledge under it. The further they walked, the darker it got, until everyone had their lanterns in their hands. Blue was impressed to see multiple coloured lanterns but refrained from commenting, especially on Rezin’s pink light.

Z took a few steps forward and then swore once more. “There’s no bridge, jus’ this rickety shit,” he said, kicking with his pegleg at what appeared to once be part of a bridge. The way forward quickly turned into bits and pieces of wood, some of which appeared to be a mast, only just wide enough for feet. He looked down and sucked in a breath. “Oh, fuck this.”

The group followed his line of sight downward to the massive pit full of upward-facing spikes. Blue didn’t bother looking for skeletons in this one.

“Well, I have a suggestion,” she said.

Everyone looked to her. It was Captain Montagne who spoke. “What is it?”

“Keep your eyes forward and don’t slip,” she said simply before pushing past everyone, moving quickly enough that no one could stop her.

The wood was sturdy. A little damp, but sturdy. As long as everyone kept their feet in the middle of the planks and posts, they would be fine. Considering Z’s pegleg, she supposed that she knew why his reaction had been so visceral. For her and the others, though…

She reached a point where the path ended and when she lifted her lantern to see better, she saw that it dropped down. Such a notion was daunting and she found herself looking back for a moment — there was a safe distance between them, but Z had followed her. Their eyes met and he paused, looking to where she just had. He looked downright mad yet she wasn’t entirely certain where it was directed at.

With a slow breath, she hopped down onto the post. It held steady. The next part required her to shimmy along a rock wall or make one hell of a jump. The ledge narrowed some towards the next post so she settled for shimmying some and then making a reasonable jump. Blue only listened for the sound of the others following now.

Following the way forward led her onto a small stone plateau. It was lit by two torches on high posts, and there was also a capstan. Blue stared at it for a long while as she waited for the others, perplexed. The way forward didn’t seem right, the posts all misaligned. Unless…

“This is awful,” she heard Z comment as he made it onto the platform with her. The others didn’t take too long to get there.

“I think this—” Blue pointed at the capstan and then to the posts that resembled masts “—might move those.”

A look of bewilderment took the group.

Kata was first to step forward and to the capstan. “One way to find out!” she said as she rubbed her hands together before taking hold of one handle. She only pushed for a few steps before Blue’s hypothesis was proved correct and Rezin moved quickly to aid her.

Once the capstan was heard reaching its locked position, Blue stepped closer to the new path. “This looks fairly straightforward.” She heard Z groan from just behind her and turned to look at him. “You can go back if you like.”

“I don’t think I can,” he sneered. “And I’m not. This is still terrible, though,” he complained as he pushed past her and started forward.

Blue wasn’t wrong — this path was a little more straightforward than the last one had been, but it had gaps between the posts that required everyone to jump. Those with two working arms would be able to reach forward and climb up the second gap if they like. The third jump quickly turned into a thicker post that led back onto solid ground, a brazier’s light welcoming them.

“That was terrible .”

“Hush you,” she chided as she stepped past Z.

Just around the corner were more traps, this time in the form of two swinging spiked logs with a line of spikes between them, requiring that they be jumped over at the right moment.

“Oh, come on !”

She didn’t scold him this time.

“Let’s take a few minutes to get our bearings,” Captain Montagne quickly said.

A moment’s respite was not a bad idea. Blue made her way to the wall where a few crates and an opened chest were at. The sight of the latter was rather peculiar and she realised she had never seen one opened before. Somehow she felt like she understood Briggsy’s nightmare.

Before she could sit down, Blue spotted a journal pressed up against an interior corner of one of the crates. She gave an exasperated sigh before reaching down and recovering it.

“Another one of Briggsy’s last messages?” Garrett asked, trying to make light of the situation.

Blue just side-eyed him. “Yes.” She paused, wondering if it was even worth reading. Curiosity compelled her to open it; she read the first sentence, then repeated it aloud.

“ I’ve made a huge mistake. ”

It seemed Briggsy, just like so many others, could not resist taking something as a keepsake to remind her of her adventure. If Blue hadn’t known she had turned into a Skeleton Lord, the passage would have been quite confusing, but as it were, reading of Briggsy’s lack of eating or sleeping in days and feeling good despite that only made her uncomfortable.

“So it was here that she fell from grace,” Garrett said.

“Nothing that can be done about it now, is there?” Blue asked rhetorically as she handed Rezin the book. “We have ourselves to worry about.”

“That we do,” Captain Montagne said, nodding.

“Let’s get moving,” Rezin said, shifting on his feet. “I can’t get comfortable with these things right next to us,” he added, looking at the swinging logs. He had a point.

With a careful gaze, Z stood closest to the first log and then drew his sword.

“What are you doing?” Kata blurted out.

“They’re just hangin’ from some rope,” he explained.

“And if you muck with them, they’ll start swinging wildly, especially if you only cut one rope,” Captain Montagne shot.

Z very clearly wanted to cut the rope very much. The galleon’s captain was so staunchly against that notion that Blue wondered if they would come to blows about it. She decided to nip that in the bud by leaping forward. She landed on her knees on the other side of the spikes, drawing everyone’s attention. When she looked back at them, she only offered a calm shrug that could have been seen as a challenge. She got to her feet and continued onward as they started assembling for their jumps.

From where she was, Blue could see that the path went around the wide, slightly cylindrical room, leading down to a tunnel. She wasn’t able to wonder where it led when she realised skeletons of many variations were emerging from the sand way down there.

“Uh, we have a problem,” she said loudly, refraining from allowing panic to more than slightly lace her words.

Concerned, Captain Montagne came up alongside her. Before she could voice her question, she understood, gasping slightly before drawing her cutlass. Blue looked back and saw the rest of the group also drawing their chosen weapons. As she pulled her musket into her grip, Z stood beside her, cutlass in hand, clearly intent on staying there. They looked hard at each other for a long moment before Blue pushed herself forward to join the others in the fight from the back. They had discussed this, that she couldn’t outright join a fight. For as much as everyone had displayed their understanding, she wondered how much it bothered some of them…

But now wasn’t the time for those thoughts. Rather, Blue lamented how Z’s skill was being wasted watching her ass. She was distracted by a shadow skeleton in front of Captain Montagne, who thankfully already had her lantern out. Blue brought the sight of her gun up and shot it, exploding it into an inanimate pile of bones. When she caught sight of two skeletons rushing past the group down low, she reconsidered Z’s wasted skill when he slaughtered them with ease.

All of the skeletons had been dispatched and another batch began rising to take their place.

“This is a problem!” Garrett called sternly.

“Rez, Kata, up front!” Captain Montagne called.

Curious, Blue scanned the area before them. In the shallow tunnel was a large door; beside it, another capstan. This one had four handles. She nudged Z’s shoulder and pointed it out to him. He simply nodded and made his way to the others. Blue shot another skelly along his way.

As they moved forward, the two pirates before Captain Montagne came to quickly understand the task at hand. With her and Z and Garrett behind them with Blue providing overwatch from up the hill, they took to the capstan and began turning it. Just as expected, the door began to lift.

Another wave of skeletons had been cleared. It was unsurprising that another began springing up from the dirt. Blue wondered just how long this could keep up for it couldn’t have lasted forever. Eventually, surely, the room would run out of skeletons to throw at them. She didn’t linger on the thought before bringing her musket up to her good shoulder again and firing. While all of them thus far had fallen easily, this one did not, what with it being a shadow skeleton in a dark cave, and she had succeeded in only pissing it off.

Blue was only slightly surprised to see Z so quickly pick up on this and drive his sword through the back of its ribs, taking control of it and trying to twist it apart. She took this time to run by, the door nearly all the way up. The upright locking click of the capstan coincided with her arrival.

Z was kicking the skeleton away before Captain Montagne called for them to run. He was next to last to pass through the door, grabbing Blue by her good arm and dragging her along with him. She still managed to shoot the capstan and lower the door before the horde could follow them.

With a deep sigh, Rezin said, “Now I could use a break.”

Blue would have been happy to agree if she hadn’t heard something up ahead. She noticed Z looking that way, too, then Garrett and the others.

They were not done.

“Ah, piss.”

“Don’t get cornered!” Captain Montagne hollered before launching herself forward. Her remaining crew quickly followed.

There was no slope down into the room, no hard turn to go past. The centre of it was unfortunately close to them and already spewing more skeletons.

They did just as they had before, fighting with Blue in the back, Z near her, Kata and Rezin on the capstan to open the door, and Captain Montagne and Garrett taking the main fight. This time they were quicker, requiring half the time to fight, open the door, and get through it. Just as before, Blue was the last through and shot the capstan out of its locked position.

There was barely any room for the six of them to stand. Before them were two contraptions in the floor, a blade swinging upward from one side to the other through its opening.

“I’m with him,” Rezin said, pointing a thumb at Z; “This is awful.”

“You’re welcome to lift that gate and go back,” Captain Montagne deadpanned. Kata also shot him a dirty look.

Garrett was paying no attention to their bickering. This time it was he who went first, half-jumping-half-running over the trap when it was safe. Blue felt like these weren’t as bad as the spikes in the walls. Still terrible and awful, but not as bad.

After the traps was the way into another room. This one had a plank path that went left before going up the slope and to the right. There were other things made of planks all over the floor, some rather well covered by sand.

Garrett took a step away from the next room to look over the group. “I think we can rest now. This room is not erupting with skeletons.”

That was a breath of relief for everyone. There was not much space between the traps and the next room, but it was enough. There were even some rocks that a few of them could sit on, which many did, though Blue opted to stand and observe the area beside them for a moment. It appeared to her that there had been another passage that had long since collapsed. Whether or not that was right, there was nothing to be done about it so Blue sat herself down in the sand, leaning back against the wall beside Z. He had already started tearing into a piece of shark meat and offered her half of what remained, which she shook her head at, instead deciding to eat the entirety of one of her own pieces of meat. A good diet had already saved her once.

No one said anything in the time that they rested there. It wasn’t that long, Blue knew, but it felt like they could have been there forever. The way back was long and treacherous, if not impossible. The way forward could have been just as long or longer; the island was huge and who knew how many layers there might have been to the underground tunnels.

No wonder Briggsy went mad.

The next room was not as much of an issue as the previous ones had been. The planks turned out to be pressure plates, a discovery made by Captain Montagne after she threw a rock onto one. From it emerged spikes, to the surprise of no one. Navigating the room was surprisingly easy. The door, however, was not controlled by a capstan. Beside it was a lever, which when flipped produced a noise. It did not take long for them to spot two more levers.

Being the most nimble of the group, Blue and Kata stepped around the pressure plates to reach those levers. She was glad to have taken the further one and been able to peer at the platform above the middle one.

“There’s another journal up there.”

Kata made a face but climbed it anyway. Rather than read it then and there, she returned to the main group by the door and handed it to her captain, who waited for Blue to return before reading it.

“ He ?”

“She must mean the Gold Hoarder,” Captain Montagne said. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Blue made a face. “But… a cure?”

“I’ve never heard’a one,” Z said with a shrug.

Garrett hadn’t said anything but there was a peculiar look on his face. Blue almost asked him about it before he shook himself free of it and started forward.

Before them were quite a lot of wooden structures, a fence along the rock wall and a plank walkway, both appearing out of place to Blue. There was a platform on their left that they passed, then one on their right — she checked both of them for anything of interest out of habit and was rewarded with another writing of Captain Briggsy’s.

“I expect nothing useful in this one as well,” she said to the group as she stepped off the part of the platform that was on ground level and took in their expressions; “but I will read it nonetheless.

“ I was commanded to destroy the relic. He doesn’t want pirates reaching here unexpectedly, when he might be sleeping. ”

Blue looked up from the journal to find Garrett looking at her with a similar realisation. She continued on, then:

“ I’ll be a slave. I’ll be a villain. I’ll be a monster. At least now I know what the feeling inside of me is. Shame. ”

She shut the book and looked away, wrinkling her nose in discomfort.

“So I was right,” Garrett said. “Briggsy gave into the curse.”

“It’s not like there was any other option for her,” Rezin said. He got some looks and shrugged. “It’s not like skellies can just walk on into a tavern, is it?”

The conversation made Blue wonder: what did happen to someone who was cursed? Did they change? Or did they simply give in because there was no alternative? She didn’t dare speak these thoughts aloud.

“Be that as it may,” Captain Montagne said thoughtfully, “there is nothing to be done about it now. Let’s continue on.”

She stepped forward and the others followed her. A cursory glance indicated that they were on the other side of the broken bridge that had been spotted when they had first entered the tunnels. Blue made note of that as they went around a gentle turn.

At some point, the path had been fully covered with wooden planks and surrounded by a stone wall. Part of that wall had come down and they had to step over it. After that, the way opened up into a stone tunnel. On either side of it were more wooden scaffoldings; the end of the way was blocked by what appeared to be a raised drawbridge that went over yet another drop filled with spikes. Near it was yet another capstan.

“This is ridiculous,” Kata said as they approached it. “How do these things even work?”

“There is probably a system of pulleys hidden throughout the inner workings of the tunnels,” Garrett said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Blue scrunched her nose up at him while the other four turned the capstan. It did indeed control the bridge, which was split into two halves that came together in the middle. The room it led to was huge and misty, but more strikingly, quite a distance away, was a Skeleton Lord sat on a grand throne, hunched over.

She spotted it first, then Z who followed her line of sight when she froze up. The others stopped their chatter and also looked. It did not appear to notice them, and upon slightly closer inspection through a spyglass, Blue thought it appeared to be in quite a lot of discomfort.

Captain Montagne took a good look at the group before motioning to be followed, stepping forward with a forced bravado. Kata had no problem following her, and just behind was Rezin. Garrett had started but turned to make sure she and Z were behind him, and when they weren’t, he stopped.

It had seemed fine to her before, but now that Blue was actually faced with the prospect of fighting another Skeleton Lord, she found herself frozen. It was only when Z put his hand on her shoulder that she realised he was standing beside her, eyes intensely focused on her.

“You can—”

“I’m fine,” she interjected.

She wasn’t, and she knew it and so did he, but it was what had come out of her mouth. No way was she going to turn tail and run from a Skeleton Lord lesser to Graymarrow. If she could face him after hearing all the terrible things he had done, she could face this one, too.

Z still hadn’t removed his hand so she grabbed him by the sleeve, lifting his arm away from hers and returning it to his side. She didn’t immediately let go, pausing to linger for a moment. He didn’t seem convinced and she couldn’t blame him.

Vaguely aware of the crew having stopped on the drawbridge to see what was keeping them, Blue forced a small grin.

“Come now, we shouldn’t keep our host waiting.”

Chapter 38: All the Richer

Notes:

This is going up a little later than usual (and without the little summary) because I’ve been sick all week with what’s probably covid. Also, I get married today. Oops.

Before the group was a gigantic room that sprawled out in all directions. All over the floor were piles of gold coins and trinkets and jewellery, piles upon piles. In the middle of the room, there was what once might have been an elevated walkway overhead, but now it simply looked like a broken bridge. There was scaffolding all over the room, on the walls and around the four massive pillars that held the ceiling up. Blue couldn’t tell if it was a result of more recent construction or if all those planks were slowly decaying over time. Most striking, directly in front of them on the other side of the room was a throne so ornate that it had a few steps surrounding it, and sitting upon it was the Gold Hoarder. Blue still thought that the Skeleton Lord looked to be in pain, but that thought disappeared when he lifted his head from his hand, now aware of the intrusion. Briefly, she wondered the possibility of employing diplomacy, but what would be the point?

What was the point of any of this?

Before she could consider her thoughts any further, the Gold Hoarder was on his feet with a mighty growl. The shovel that he held in his right hand was held out in front of him, then used to scrape the gold away before he dove into the pile.

There was a moment of near silence as the group paused to understand what they had seen, then drew their weapons.

“Spread out!” Captain Montagne shouted.

A moment later the Gold Hoarder emerged from a different pile of gold. Blue backed away, though not before she got a better look at him, of his ragged green and gold clothing, the jewellery and gold that adorned his skeletal form. The title was more than fitting.

“ Thieves … intruders …”

Or perhaps ‘the Gold Hoarder’ was all that was left of what was once a person. Judging by the incredibly raspy voice and simple words, Blue wondered if she was giving this one too much credit.

Kata nearly lost her sword to a single block of a swing of his shovel and Blue was left second-guessing herself.

Forcing her mind to stop wandering so she could focus on staying alive, Blue backed up until she felt she was safe enough to pull her gun into her hands. Kata had been eager to meet the Skeleton Lord directly in the fight and stepped forward when all others had more or less taken Madeleine’s command to heart. Now, with the battle truly begun in earnest, the crew of the Octavia wordlessly coordinated an attack on the Gold Hoarder. Garrett provided nearby support by firing his pistol at their opponent. Z, she noticed, stayed near her. They exchanged glances before she motioned for him to join the others, which he hesitantly did. She didn’t blame him, then wondered if it was not fear of the Skeleton Lord that made him keep his distance at first.

Her mind was wandering way too much. Even as her next shot landed on its intended target, Blue found herself becoming frustrated by how easily distracted she was.

The Gold Hoarder, she supposed, simply did not compare to Graymarrow, what with the latter’s constant harassment and marooning of souls. No, this time it truly felt as though they were the ones intruding, the Skeleton Lord on the defence. Why they intruded…

Blue reminded herself of the innate evilness of skeletons, Lords or no, and the blight that they were upon the Sea of Thieves. The place would be a little nicer if one didn’t have to worry about having their ankles sliced open by corpses hiding in the dirt.

Or in the gold. He had said something that Blue didn’t quite process and lesser skeletons rose from the gold piles. That was annoying, but at least they knew that fishing through the gold piles after they were done with the fight would be dangerous.

All this for some gold. Granted, it was enough gold that, even had it been split among the original twelve pirates that were meant to come here, it would have been an incredible haul.

All of this trouble for… gold.

Something about the situation churned Blue’s stomach, and it wasn’t because the Gold Hoarder’s attention had just snapped to her after she landed another shot on him. That was problematic in itself, more so than her wandering thoughts. As Blue turned to put distance between them, someone stepped in front of him. She didn’t see who, instead sprinting towards the nearest wall of the room and around a pillar. From her now slightly elevated position, she had a much better shot at all of the skeletons on the main floor. Shooting over her shipmates was still risky, but with the Gold Hoarder towering over all of them, she could still pester him while the others cleared out his friends.

With the Lord’s minions cleared out, that meant the four were able to advance with their swords. She and Garrett continued to offer support with their guns, the onslaught appearing rather effective. That is until she heard a sound that she had heard during the fight with Graymarrow, though she had not seen it in action. This time she got to witness the Skeleton Lord blasting everyone away. So surrounding a Skeleton Lord was out of the question.

Having been launched into the air, Captain Montagne hit a pillar in mid-air and landed hard on the ground. Only Blue was able to see the Gold Hoarder set his sights on her, marching toward her. Shots from her musket did nothing to dissuade his approach and by the time she felt the need to call out, everyone was well aware of the Skeleton Lord towering over Madeleine.

Blue flinched when the shovel plunged into her chest, its edge cutting as sharply as any sword.

Whether or not she and Garrett were delivering any meaningful aid now weighed heavily on her mind. She fired another shot before throwing her gun onto her back so she could run over to the stairs that led up to the broken structure. Perhaps a more downward angle would help…?

With a normal target, there were obvious weak points for her to aim at if not outright kill with one shot. Against something like this, however… well, if it weren’t for the smallest of flinches and the hissing, she would never have thought she was making a difference. Now, from her higher position, she was sure she was helping somewhat with her last shot. With a vicious backhanded strike, the Gold Hoarder knocked Rezin away from him before turning to Blue with a snarl. That made her feel a little better, for a moment, until she realised she was his new focus.

The platform she stood upon was probably the safest place she could be right now — it was a long way to get to her. It seemed everyone understood this as the Gold Hoarder paused to call forth a new group of underlings to help get the pirates off of him before continuing his forward march. Blue considered her positioning and decided that her next order of business would be to jump the gap between the bridge sides when the Gold Hoarder eventually got too close. It was a manageable jump if she were careful and got a running start.

She shouldn’t have looked at her pouch to grab another handful of ammunition. Lifting her head, the approaching Skeleton Lord closed the distance far sooner than she had anticipated, already coming up the ramp after her. It had worked before, she reasoned as she cocked her gun back in her grip, and it had been a smaller gun, so surely hitting him with the butt of her musket would buy her the time she needed. It only occurred to her that he had laughed at her after she turned her back to him.

The strike knocked her off balance and she realised she wasn’t going to be able to make the jump, even if she hadn’t staggered forward. Blue was vaguely aware of the pain in the back of her head and that she had tumbled off the platform, and then everything went dark.

*

Consciousness made itself known in the form of intense throbbing pain emanating from the back of her head. Dying might have been preferable. Blue wasn’t a big fan of her current state of being, the pain impossible to ignore. She was leaning her left side on something and after forcing her eyes open, she realised that she was sitting against the forecastle of the Octavia , if only because of the light from the lantern above her. They still hadn’t moved since… well, she wasn’t sure when that might have been.

One long moment later Blue realised the warm thing against her back was Z, equal amounts of him leaning against her and she leaning against him. The inequality was his arm around her waist, just tight enough to keep her steady. She had moved her hands onto the gauntlet of his glove to understand this, an action that was enough to rouse him. They both twisted around to get a look at each other and assess the moment. He didn’t move and she didn’t feel like moving.

“How y’ feel?” he asked.

“Slow and fat, like a pregnant cow,” she said. She tried to reach for the back of her head and Z grabbed her wrist. “… And whatever that is.”

“Y’ got hit pretty hard,” he explained, releasing her hand.

“Ah.” Blue took a moment to bring her hand back to her lap, focusing her attention there. That was right, she… she had tried something stupid. “Right.” She could feel Z’s gaze on her.

“You remember, right?”

“Now I do,” she admitted with a sigh.

“Now…?”

As annoying and embarrassing as it was, Blue didn’t see much use in hiding her memory lapse from him. That could prove problematic and she really wanted to know how much time had passed. “How long—”

“We got out of there last night,” he said.

It was still dark, so it must have been early morning at the latest, assuming she understood him correctly. She made a thoughtful noise and nodded to him. “What happened exactly?”

“Y’ really don’t remember?” Z asked with the raising of a brow. When she shook her head, he scratched at his. “Well, after y’ fell off the thing, Garrett caught y’ and y’ both fell on yer asses. I guess the Gold Hoarder didn’t like that the two’a y’ were shootin’ at him ‘cause he jumped after ya.”

Blue made a face; she didn’t remember that at all. What happened after, though… “And Kata…”

“Yea, Kata jumped after.”

The memory was fuzzy, but it was slowly coming back to her. She briefly recalled hearing a scream, though she didn’t see what happened before Kata had been thrown. “Did she—”

He shook his head. “No, she’s alive… unfortunately. I don’t think she’s too appreciative’a that.”

Blue gave him a look and he made a face back at her.

“Kata jumped on him and he, uh… he jus’… grabbed her by the arm an’ leg, threw her down an’ then cut her side open.”

Right. That was right. The Gold Hoarder had crushed her limbs on one side and then failed to put his shovel into her chest as he had with the captain. Kata was in rough shape and must have been one of the people in the cabin that she could indistinctly hear and see shadows of occasionally. Her expression must have exuded the curiosity she felt, as Z spoke without prompting.

“I guess Garrett’s not bad at patchin’ people up. Better than Rez, at least.”

Blue grunted. “You think she will survive?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. If her side don’t get infected.” He paused. “They think she’s gonna hafta lose her hand and leg below the knee, though.”

“That is unfortunate.”

“Garrett jus’ wanted t’ kill her and let the Ferry do its thing. Rez begged him t’ fix her up.”

Blue side-eyed him. “… in case her hand and leg are salvageable?”

He nodded. Then, “Hey, what else do y’ remember?”

Recollection howled in her head…

Blue looked up from the floor that was painted with droplets of her own blood just in time to see the Gold Hoarder die in an explosion of bones and gold. That made twice now that she had encountered a Skeleton Lord and twice now she had come out with her life intact. Twice, too, for Z.

Rezin and Z stood stupefied by what they saw. Z only looked briefly at the glittering skull that sat at their feet, more concerned with… her? Her and Kata? Garrett had abandoned Blue’s side at her behest when Kata had been savaged. A cursory glance in their direction and Blue decided that turning her head like that hurt, and that the other woman was in worse shape than her.

Blue passed Rezin as she staggered over to Z. She realised that her left hand was on the back of her head — failing to stifle a steady flow of blood — when she reached down and had to extend a sore, stiff arm to pick up the skull; anything to avoid throwing herself at Z.

A cry came from Kata and they both looked for a moment before their attention went back to each other. Whatever they might have said about the woman’s crushed limbs and the pool of blood beneath her was forgotten when the fires in the braziers around the throne roared to life. More strangely was their immediate quieting, turning a ghostly green.

Now what? she had wondered.

A moment later, a gathering of green light came from before the throne and from it came forth the rotund ghost of a man who had once welcomed her to the Sea of Thieves, clapping and laughing like he had just seen a right good show.

“Now this is what I like to see! A grand adventure. A fight to the death! And a great big pile of treasure.”

He scanned the room. She was uncertain of his desire to celebrate their victory when it had been so costly, when one’s life was still in danger. Perhaps he knew something they didn’t. Blue wasn’t sure she knew enough about the man to have felt anything other than gratitude that he had given her a round of advice and encouragement when she had needed it most. Now , though…

“You’ll have quite the tall tale to tell once you make it home. The trouble with being the Pirate Lord is that everybody tries to follow in your footsteps. Briggsy. Graymarrow. The crew of the Morningstar . Why, I ask you? This place, this Sea of Thieves, is far bigger and stranger than any of us know. I reckon you’ve learned as much, or you wouldn’t be standing here. There’ll always be new stories to tell, riches to plunder, and monsters to chill the blood of anyone brave enough to seek them out.”

Victory had come at quite a cost, and yet… yet he was not wrong. They and this crew, their alliance, had gone through more than most did, accomplishing greatness. Blue’s agitation lessened as she considered this, considered the significance of the Pirate Lord congratulating them. She had never shared a word of her brief meeting with him on that island, certain no one would believe her when they spoke so highly of him, singing song and praise so grand that the subject of it could hardly be human.

Perhaps that was the case.

So enthralling his words had been, Blue was almost certain she could see those and what he spoke of. Perhaps she had been hit harder than she realised.

“As for the Gold Hoarder, I doubt we’ve seen the last of him. It’s never that easy to scrub away the stain greed leaves behind.”

Surely he jested.

“Still, I’m sure he’ll think twice before picking a fight with you again! For now, I’d leave the treasure be. Its power has claimed the hearts of too many pirates already. That skull should fetch a pretty penny with the Order of Souls however, if you are so inclined.”

He said more, but Blue didn’t hear anything other than his “door being open to true Pirate Legends”. Leave the gold? After everything they had gone through? That was the whole point of this disaster!

“Remember, it’s not about the gold… it’s about the glory!”

The rage that Blue had felt at that moment came back to her, hard, like being keelhauled against a galleon in a screaming wind. She remembered nothing after that, and considering the throbbing she felt in her head now…

“I remember… the Gold Hoarder dying… and the Pirate Lord… then nothing.”

Z snickered as he leaned back against the forecastle, folding his hands behind his back with a haughty grin. “Yea, figures that Ramsey’d show up after a thing like that.”

Blue was vaguely curious about the name, what Z might have meant exactly, but it paled in comparison to the new realisation that they might have left with nothing.

“And the gold…?”

“Didn’t even touch it. It’s all cursed. ‘Member?”

Blue blinked, then stared at him for a long moment before looking away.

Hitting the Gold Hoarder with the butt of her gun had been a stupid idea. She had been injured in the process, endangered the rest of the group, and Kata was severely injured as a result of it.

The Shores of Gold — the name alone made a promise of riches beyond one’s mere imagination…

Now Z was looking at her like she wasn’t of this earth. She blinked and understood immediately, swiftly turning away from him. The hand that came up to her face wasn’t merely an attempt to hide the tears, but the physical pain caused by such a movement stunned her, leading to another wave of pain through her form, of shame and embarrassment.

By the time her left hand came up to her face and she had pulled her right arm against her chest, Z was in front of her again. She caught a glimpse of him knelt before her with his hands awkwardly held up before clenching her eyes shut, the tears unimpeded anyway. Something was said that she didn’t catch; words eluded her and she could only cry, cried and cried even as he pulled her intact side against his chest. He said nothing and merely held her as weeks of frustrations, wracking pain, and exhaustion came to a head.

*

The thought to reach out and grab one or two of the pondies at her feet occurred, to punish the school for being so trusting. If she had more energy, Blue might have done that and taken her frustrations out on the poor things. Instead, she adjusted how she sat on the rock and merely flicked a big toe at one that had tickled her just a little too much before pulling her feet out of the cool water.

For once, Z had been the one to suggest that they get cleaned up. She couldn’t argue it, not when she was covered in dried blood and all manner of dirt. Everyone on the ship could use a good bath, but when the sun was just peeking out over the Devil’s Shroud, they discovered that they were the only ones awake. What a long night it had been for everyone, it seemed.

Kata’s state weighed heavily on her mind. With how things had been going, Blue wouldn’t be surprised in the least if the other woman would require amputation of both limbs. The deaths of Bean and Madeleine bothered her, too. If the alliance had come here twelve strong, would they still have lost a similar portion of their men? Considering the previous Skeleton Lord encounter, it seemed likely to her.

A voice in her head told her that these things were out of her control, yet Blue couldn’t help hearing another that pointed out that she was the common factor in all of these incidents.

She spared a glance over at Z. Unlike her, he was dressed now in the extra set of clothes he had brought. With only two sets of clothes each, he had insisted on cleaning the dirty ones right away. He had finished that, laid them out to dry on a rock, and was now busy cleaning up his beard with her dagger. It was probably for the better that it was in his hands for the time being. He looked completely unperturbed while she was dying for any sort of distraction from her thoughts.

Her life, she supposed, had simply been one disaster after another, right from the start. This should not have surprised her. Graymarrow should not have surprised her. The Pirate Lord’s command should not have surprised her. Nothing ever seemed to work out for her.

Stealing that brigantine had been a stupid idea. How dare she think things would get better for her in a place called the Sea of Thieves of all things.

“Y’ look like y’re thinkin’ really hard ‘bout somethin’,” Z said.

As soon as she turned her head to look at him, he simply dropped a towel over her head. She wasn’t sure if she made an indignant noise or not. Whatever the case, he walked away after that.

For someone who had tried so hard to fool around with her when they met, he sure was conscious of giving her space now. She looked terrible, sure, but she never even caught him trying to sneak any peeks at her and that was beginning to sting. She practically had to throw herself at him the other night to get him to touch her.

Blue grumbled about that for the time she spent drying. Before she could get onto her feet, Z was back beside her, handing her an article of clothing and refusing to relent when she glared back at him. He handed her a new piece of clothing when she got that on, and they continued that cycle until she was on her feet and buttoning up her vest, now dressed.

One thought hadn’t left her mind, though.

Z produced a curious hum as he watched her poke at the surface of the water with her left hand. When one finally got close enough, she grabbed the pondie by the mouth and lifted it from the water. Z only rose a brow before he followed her back to the galleon.

Eating a fresh fish for the first time in what felt like forever boosted Blue’s spirits significantly. Despite being on a dead woman’s galleon, it was the most normal thing she had done in quite some time, even if she had shared it with Z. That, which upon a second thought, was fairly normal, too.

A lot had changed. It seemed a lot more would be changing, too, as things had not even remotely gone according to plan or even a guarded hope. Blue considered this idea as she and Z got comfortable in the crow’s nest of the Octavia . Like usual, Blue had moved to sit on the railing of the structure, but a cursory glance downward stilled her and she found herself sitting beside Z with her legs through the openings of it instead.

“Would the fall from here to the deck kill you, you think?” she asked after noticing Z following her gaze.

“Nah, it jus’ hurts more.”

She shuddered after a moment’s thought and made sure the railing didn’t wobble. Z chuckled but kept his thoughts to himself.

They sat there for a time, watching the sun rise high into the sky. Besides that, there was nothing to look at other than Tribute Peak. Blue decided the island wasn’t worth being seen. The silence below them did not go unnoticed, either.

“I take it the… survivors… are all still sleeping?”

“I think so,” Z said. “Seems they’re all in the cabin still, but it’s quiet.”

Blue made a thoughtful noise before leaning forward and resting her chin on the railing. “… I am ready to leave this God forsaken island.”

He laughed and leaned back against the mast. “Yea, well, sailin’ a gally’s a bit more difficult than a sloop.”

“I am aware.” She wriggled her nose some, annoyed, and became even further annoyed by the sensation her scar produced when she did that. Forcing herself to ignore that, she added, “If Kata’s condition is as poor as it sounds, then it would behove all of us to move all the sooner.”

“Hm. I guess so.”

They looked at each other and he shrugged.

“You can move faster than I can,” she said after a moment.

Z rolled his eyes but still grinned just a tad so he couldn’t have been too annoyed by that statement. “Yeah, yeah,” he said as he got up. Rather than slide down the ladder, he vaulted the railing onto the mast’s uppermost yard, then the middle, then the lowest, and then leapt the rest of the way.

Blue wasn’t sure what to make of that when she considered his dislike of climbing, contrasted by his tendencies to go up to high points. The thought was pushed from her mind a moment later as she found her footing and began the cumbersome climb down.

*

“You cook pretty well.”

Most of the day had been quiet. There hadn’t been a need for Blue and Z to say anything to one another as she fried a pondie for each of them for lunch. Plenty of them had been collected so when Rezin came down to the galley while she ate alone, she was able to prepare one for him as well. She handed it to him without a word, grunted in response to his thanks, and thought that was that. Apparently not.

“Thanks?” she blurted out. A moment later and she hurriedly added, “It is only a fried fish.”

“You’d be surprised how easy it is to mess that up,” he said.

Blue paused for a moment before forcing out a small, “Huh,” and continuing to fix up the organisation on the shelves above the stove with only the one hand. She knew that statement could have been used to further the conversation, but she wasn’t interested and kept her back to him.

“Bean’s always worried ‘bout makin’ sure everybody eats well, but she could burn water.”

Blue leaned against the lowest shelf, closed her eyes and forced herself to not laugh. She didn’t really want company or a conversation, but that had been greatly amusing until she recalled the little lady’s failure to navigate the spikes. That put a damper on her mood.

“Can you not talk to Garrett anymore?” she asked as politely as she could muster.

“Uhh… Uh, well, he’s still takin’ care of Kata.”

Blue wondered if he had already been shooed away from them. Why he couldn’t bother Z instead, she wasn’t sure. The way Z spoke about him now, it seemed that something she could not recall had happened and they were on better terms.

“Well,” Blue started, deciding that she simply didn’t have the energy to deal with someone; “I insist that you go find anyone else to talk to. I am not great company at the moment.”

“Your head still hurt?”

His response was so quick that Blue nearly spun around to whack him. She only halfway resisted and now that she faced him, he seemed far more coy, sputtering nervously.

“What do you want, Rezin?”

Some people did not appreciate when Blue would cut through the pleasantries of conversation. Z seemed appreciative, but he was a strange one. This was a moment where she could detect that she might have offended the other.

“I-I don’t want anythin’, I— Kata’s— well, an-and Bean and the cap’n— erm…”

Blue stared at him, unimpressed. Another reminder of those they had lost during the voyage was not appreciated, but she held herself together. She wondered briefly if he was intimidated by the opposite sex, but that seemed silly when she considered that his shipmates were all women.

He probably wasn’t as interested in them as he was her, she realised. Blue looked him up and down and now she thought she understood. She glared momentarily at him before trudging up the stairs onto the main-deck, too tired for the shenanigans of men. For a fleeting moment, she thought it fiercely ironic that of anyone, it was Z’s company she sought out. He had just stepped away from Garrett and made his way up to the quarter-deck — which she followed him up onto — and then they were sat on the back railing on either side of the top stern lamp.

“So what’s eatin’ at ya?”

She shot him a look that she expected him to shy away from, but he only shrugged.

“Y’ were fine when we ate.”

She half-scoffed-half-sighed and looked further away from him. “Rezin,” she said simply.

“Oh?” Curiosity entwined itself with his voice. Blue looked at him with a tired expression and he held her gaze, obviously thinking. Then, more seriously: “Wha’d he do?”

She groaned lightly. “He is not normally very talkative, is he?” When Z shook his head, she nodded hers. “Yes, so, his chattiness and concern and compliments are quite unusual. I am not appreciative.”

Blue stared out to the nothingness of the ocean for a long moment before she realised that Z hadn’t responded and was simply staring at her expectantly.

“What?”

“Wh-what?”

They went back and forth a little more before Blue’s irritation grew and she huffed, dragging her nails into the wood she sat on. She took a deep breath and counted backwards from one hundred down to ninety-one before feeling better.

“He has expressed an interest in me.”

Z was silent, then suddenly, “Oh!”

Right, he could be… slow and awkward. Blue still wasn’t sure how someone in his occupation could afford to not be able to read people very well, but she supposed that mattered little if the end goal was simply to kill everyone.

Z seemed somewhat amused. “Ah, well, don’t be so hard on him; he’s pretty young by the look of it.”

“That is precisely the problem, isn’t it?” Blue said after a moment’s thought. “After all… this … Well, his timing was rather poor. His age and experience are obvious.” Z snickered rather hard and she gave him a look. “What?”

“Y’ say that like y’ ain’t right just out of the cradle yerself!”

She rolled her eyes. “My point still stands, old man, ” she jested, though it wasn’t as though Z were greying. She allowed herself a small grin, but her tone was still serious enough. Z didn’t seem quite as amused as she was but recovered a moment later.

“Yea, and? Y’re prob’ly the prettiest girl he’s seen in ages.”

Blue recoiled, both because of how earnest he sounded and how wrong he was. Her expression must have drastically changed because his did so she looked away, quickly saying, “You might have been right about that in another lifetime.” How glad she was to not be sitting with her scarred side towards him.

“Wh— huh?” He didn’t understand, and then he looked downright annoyed. “Are you still on about yer face?”

Blue blinked, shook her head and then looked back at him. What in the world could he have possibly meant by that? And, of course she was? She got the feeling she was about to get a talking to…

“Yer face is fine. Yer arm’s gonna be fine. The people that ain’t gonna be fine with it all’s are the people that ain’t worth yer time. They don’t make y’ any less’a person.”

… and she’d be right. She narrowed her eyes at him. Perhaps he did not understand. She turned around and slid off the wall. “That is not true outside—”

“Well, it is here !” He raised his voice more than she expected him to. He followed her movements, coming to stand before her. “Scars are stories and people love stories. Y’ know that. That, and, an’…” He looked down at his hands, apparently needing time to think about his words. Blue let him. “And who cares what people outside the Shroud think? No one here hardly cares about a thing. Y-You can be anything y’ want t’ be here!”

She gave him a sideways look. “Not quite,” she said lowly, looking away. Her scars were itching lightly. “… Not that that is what I wanted, anyway.”

He made a noise, a whining noise that was almost a whimper. “Yeah, well, plans change sometimes, don’t they?”

That was the smartest thing Z had said all morning. He wasn’t wrong and Blue hated that especially. She already knew that — if not in so many words — but acknowledging the new truth…

She slowly looked back to him, more than a little annoyed, but also tired and frustrated, too much to cry again. He looked back and then his expression changed, as though he regretted his words.

“Why don’t you go bother the others?” Blue suggested as she turned her back to him so she could lean on the railing. “See if we can’t get out of here today? Even if Garrett insists on staying with Kata, you, Rezin, and I should be able to handle a galleon in a stress-free environment, yes?”

It took a moment for Z to grunt an acknowledgement to her before turning and heading away.

*

Getting the hell out of there had sounded good to everyone. As Garrett said, even Kata was annoyed they were still sitting at the island. Who knew how long it would be until Bean or Madeleine made their return from the Sea of the Damned? Waiting wasn’t something they needed to do with so many (mostly) able bodies still aboard.

Sailing a galleon was nothing like a sloop; a sloop had all of its controls on the quarter-deck while they were spread out on a gally. There was the helm and one mast on the larger ship’s quarter-deck, yet Z insisted on managing the sails for her. Rezin, who thankfully made no attempts to approach her, managed the fore-mast. Both of them would angle the mid-mast’s sails together when needed. Garrett would occasionally step away from Kata and out of the cabin to check their trip’s progress.

Blue stood to the side of the helm, holding it with her good arm’s hand. As much as she wanted to help manage sails, that was quite a task on this ship, especially with her injury, so she forced herself to simply appreciate the men’s work. Besides, with the way the ship flew in the crosswind and rolled over the waves, the wheel demanded quite a lot of attention with minor adjustments here and there. Perhaps if she were more experienced with it she would know where to leave the wheel turned in order to step away for a few moments, just as she did on the sloop. Perhaps, in time, she would gain that experience; she hoped so as she realised she quite liked the feeling of being stood upon its quarter-deck, so high up above the waves and the rest of the ship. Helming a galleon was something that Blue could have very easily gotten used to. So good did she feel there that she was able to push away the thoughts that such a thing would never happen.

On the approach to Galleon’s Grave, Blue called for all three men to raise sails so they went in slowly. Even then, she ended up stopping the galleon a little too far away from the dock to simply hop from it to the dock so she was thankful when Rezin returned from the lower decks with a suitable gangplank; he stayed aboard the ship while she and Z swiftly disembarked. Garrett followed them, which she found unsurprising.

“Need supplies?” Z ended up asking, though she was certain that he knew they didn’t.

“Not for the ship,” he explained, “but I may as well take a few minutes to see if anybody here might be of some help to Kata.”

She and Z looked at each other as the other man stepped past them. Blue doubted that he would find any useful aid at the outpost, what with how extreme her injuries were.

Wordlessly agreeing to wait for Garrett’s return, they stayed on the dock. Blue leaned back against a post, weary; Z paced slowly at her side, just enough to make her wonder, but by the time she felt the need to open her mouth, Garrett was coming down the dock to them. He looked disappointed and she was unsurprised.

“No luck?” she asked.

He came to stop before her, hands on his hips as he shook his head. “None at all.”

“That is unfortunate.” But not unsurprising at all. “I am afraid I have no helpful advice for you.”

Z shook his head thoughtfully. “‘Fraid I don’t have any ideas, neither.”

Garrett held his hands up and gave a chuckle. “You two have done more than enough. I’ll not ask you to do anything more, either. You deserve your rest after everything, and helping these guys out is the least I can do after… well, you know how it went. I’m sorry ‘bout that.”

The apology ultimately didn’t help anything, though she appreciated it. Awful as that situation had been, Blue found that she wasn’t terribly upset with him. What could she have expected him to do, anyway? He wasn’t a fighter and his crewmates were too far gone to debate what they were going to do. No… Blue could let that go.

“It’s no trouble really,” she said.

She was vaguely aware of Z staring at her past Garrett, realising that he had been waiting for her to respond before his expression shifted, mirroring hers. Garrett seemed somewhat surprised but only smiled, took his hat into his hand and lowered his head in a polite bow.

“I’ll take my leave.”

Z made an amused noise. “Yeah. Y’ should get those kids outta here.”

Garrett allowed himself a small chuckle. “Aye, that I should.” He started up the gangplank and Rezin came by to pull it back onto the ship once he was aboard. “You two take care of each other now.”

Z responded before she could. “Always do!”

She gave him a quick look before they politely waved the remaining crew of the Octavia away.

They stood there for a while, longer than was necessary to see the galleon off. It was only when a distant rumble of thunder caught her attention that she pulled her focus back to reality, her thoughts having started wandering once more. Z was still beside her, rocking gently on his one foot. He stopped when she looked more directly at him. Then she sighed and turned towards the Forlorn Phoenix , the sloop exactly where they had left it, and started for it.

“Come on, then.”

The footstep and pegleg tapping behind her sounded just a little more excited than she expected.

Chapter 39: Strength in Numbers

Summary:

Change can come in many flavours, as Z is discovering.

Z heaved a great sigh as he stretched his arms out over his head, some joints cracking. It had started raining just before they had gone down to rest and had continued through the night. Now he felt the need to get up, stretch his legs, do anything besides sit in the chair at the desk.

His pacing took him down to the lower deck where Blue slept. He eyed her for a long moment before sitting at the foot of the bed, unsure of what to do with himself. He despised being cold so braving the rain and looking for something to do on the outpost was out of the question. Waking Blue up seemed… ill-advised. He was thankful when she roused on her own, even if she did end up giving him a more accusatory than curious look.

She turned onto her left side some and pushed herself up halfway. “What are you…?”

He shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. An’ it’s still raining.”

She narrowed her eyes at him before looking away, expression shifting to one of proper curiosity. A thoughtful noise came from her as she sat up, leaning back against the wall as he did. She was still and silent for a while until he noticed her looking at him.

“What?”

“ Could you go back to sleep?” she asked, sounding genuine.

He made a small whining noise and shrugged once more. “I dunno, maybe. That chair’s not really comfortable enough t’ sleep that much in.”

She stared at him for so long that he had no idea what to make of it, not even when she did eventually move, kicking away the blankets. He thought she meant to offer the bed to him and he started trying to refuse when she grabbed a fistful of his shirt, surprising him, and just about threw him down on his back. Z was even more perplexed when her next move was to curl up against his side and throw her mangled arm around his chest. When he finally understood that nothing more was going to happen, she was already fast asleep.

Just when he thought he had her figured out, something changed and Blue remained a mystery to him. He didn’t mind that she wasn’t so cold towards him anymore, but that change had come at a cost. He didn’t know if it was worth it. He hadn’t even gotten himself situated and yet he realised that he was quite comfortable with her at his side, so very comfortable, far more than he would ever admit, and that, too, was making all his hair stand up on end.

Perplexed, Z carefully brought his arm against her back to ward off the cold, damp air of the Wilds, folded his other arm behind his head, and lay there in abject confusion of his current world until he properly dozed.

*

Galleon’s Grave Outpost was in the middle of the Wilds. If you went any direction you could, there was just more of the Wilds. Unless you went east, apparently, but the Shores of Gold was only so accessible thanks to the Devil’s Shroud. And it was disappointing. Maybe not to the point of tears — not that Z would ever have said that aloud — but terribly so. And the Devil’s Roar to the southeast was entirely out of the question.

Being stuck in the Wilds was more annoying than disappointing. It felt like he had been there and only there ever since crewing up with Blue. He knew that wasn’t the case, but it sure felt like it. A few days’ travel saw them at Kraken’s Fall. Distant cannon fire saw them climbing up the gigantic island’s southern peak to investigate.

To the south was a Skeleton Fleet. Within it were two skeleton-crewed galleons, one on either side of another galleon that belonged to a living crew. Blue had made a comment about that crew’s bravado when they spotted all the ships fighting each other. Z wasn’t quite as impressed.

“Ehh, people do that all the time,” he said. When Blue’s expression towards him shifted to a quizzical one, he continued: “Good gally crews are damn near impossible to take down. Those skellies are outmatched even if they have more ships.”

She looked at him for another moment before her attention went back to the battle, a soft noise of acknowledgement coming from her. Z was happy to sit on the rocky ground with her and watch the ships for a while, but saying that had made his mind wander.

Crews with more people could do more things, make more money , he always said. But those crews were stronger in other ways, too. With four people — or more, on occasion — they could take shifts doing whatever, whether that be lookout duty, cleaning duty… or just taking care of each other.

It wasn’t that he harboured any ill-will thoughts towards her, and it wasn’t her fault, but as it stood, Z would have to look out for her and she could not return the favour. She had managed to do so on the one occasion at Shipwreck Bay when a rogue pirate had come aboard during a storm, but that had been complete luck as far as he was concerned. They could continue to work with her left arm so that she could fight with it, but who knew how long that would take?

“Are you all right?”

Z blinked and realised that he was thinking very hard about the matter, so much so that it must have shown. “Uhh, yeah.”

She didn’t look convinced. He leaned back on his hands and watched the battle for a little while more.

“If it bothers you that much,” Blue started, giving him an uncertain look; “we can always go help them.”

He shook his head. “No, no, it’s not that— them. It—” He took a breath and spoke slowly, “Do you remember what I said about larger crews?”

She eyed him cautiously. “That they can make more money?”

“Err, yea, but…” He rolled his shoulders. “That’s ‘cause there’s more’a them. They… They can take more risks… an’ look out fer each other an’…”

It was slight, but he saw her gaze intensify. Z wondered if she understood what he was getting at, but she said nothing and he felt forced to say more.

“I’m thinkin’: why don’t we go crew up with some’a my friends?”

She looked away from him after a moment, but her expression turned impassive. The way Blue looked out at the battle, he thought that he wouldn’t get a response.

“And how do you propose we do that?”

That wasn’t a no…

“Well—”

That was a good question. He wasn’t sure how exactly they could make that happen outside of just happening to run into somebody. Blue wasn’t fond of the Ferry , so while there was the idea to suggest she go that route and leave him to take care of the ship, he didn’t see that. He could send himself to the Ferry , hope to run into someone while he was there, but if Blue were to happen upon any trouble while he was away…

He shrugged.

Blue recoiled and shook her head, looking to her other side. “So you have an idea and no means of putting it to action.”

“Kind of,” he mused, refusing to bring up her injury so blatantly.

They sat there in silence for a time. Blue wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t about to treat her as such; he knew that she must have understood what he was getting at. Still, he wasn’t very good at being tactful, so he took a deep breath…

“What I’m sayin’s that if… if we can, if…” — he could hear her saying this — “ if the opportunity presents itself , we should crew up with some’a my mates ‘til y’re doin’ better.” It was slight, but he noticed her tensing up. “Y’know, ‘cause I can only look out fer y’ so much on my own.”

She didn’t look appreciative of that idea. It bothered him far too much to not bring it up, though, and after another moment, she relaxed. He fully expected her to chew him out for something, so he was pleasantly surprised when she agreed.

“All right then.”

“Wh— Really? Y’ don’t think it’s a bad idea?”

“Of course not,” she said slowly. “It is as you said before, larger crews can make more money, and their numbers afford them more opportunities to… well, more opportunities all around, don’t they?” A pause. “It seems a natural progression of our… partnership.”

It seemed neither of them wanted to bring up her injury and Blue seemed to be taking his words in stride. That was fine with him — he had just wanted to get that out in the open.

Now to actually find any of his friends…

*

With that giant battle to their south, the decision was made to head northwest to The Crooked Masts. The island had no beach to speak of, requiring that vessels stop particularly flush to the rocks that passed as its shoreline. Z was thankful that his shipmate was feeling good enough to stand at the helm and get the sloop situated, even if she stood awkwardly to the side and only used a single hand. She stopped them along the northeastern side of the island and as he finished tying the final sail ropes, he heard a peculiar noise come from her.

Looking over to her at the bow, Z spoke too quickly, “What?” He then followed her line of sight up to the platform that was built up along the rock pillar, a large brazier on it, and then he understood.

“That,” Blue said, pointing at it. “That. What… You cannot be serious.”

He snickered hard. “Yea, we are. It’s one of the things t’ light during the Festival of the Damned,” he said.

Blue looked annoyed. “There is no way that anyone could ever climb up there.”

“Uh huh,” Z chimed with amusement. “Gotta shoot yerself with a cannon.”

She looked over to him now, staring incredulously. Z simply held her gaze, the stupid grin on his face unwavering.

“I think I will pass,” she said finally.

Z leaned back against the supports of the canvas back as she started downstairs, muttering something to herself. He was never going to get tired of her reactions to the more fun aspects of this place.

*

They had done it again. They got situated in the shallows of Shipwreck Bay and then retraced their old steps up to the island’s peak. Perhaps Blue appreciated being able to get somewhere high up. He had noticed her tendency to climb stuff and that had been really hard for her as of late. Z just liked how easy the view was to get to. Still, he could detect a hint of… something in her while they were sat way up there.

Another thought crossed his mind. Not only had they been up here both times they had visited the island, but the first time, he had let his irritation get the better of him and instigated a somewhat friendly fight with Blue. They hadn’t done that since, and she hadn’t held a weapon in her left hand since back at Morrow’s Peak. If she wanted to be capable of taking care of herself, that needed to happen more often.

He ignored the curious noise that came from his crewmate when he stood up and started back down to the ground. When he had found two suitable sticks, he looked up to find her standing nearby, arms crossed. Blue didn’t look as though she didn’t know what he was up to, more… annoyed than anything, even if it was slight.

“What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like?” he shot back. Then he tossed a stick her way, which she tried and failed to catch. “Y’ haven’t touched a sword since before we left fer the Shores of Gold.”

Blue was mid-way through picking up the stick when he said that. She gave him a frustrated look. It didn’t matter how she argued with him — if her injury were temporary, it would benefit her to be able to fight with her left side until it was better; if it were permanent, then she’d need to do this at some point anyway.

“Fine. I suppose.” She gave the stick a good once-over. “Are you proposing that you beat me over the head once more or do you plan to allow me some proper practise?”

He couldn’t help a small grin. At least she wasn’t being difficult. “We can do that if y’ like. Jus’ follow my lead, eh?”

Blue side-eyed him but didn’t complain. He approached her and took a readied stance; she did as well.

“I’m gonna swing at ya but I’m not gonna hit ya,” he warned. She gave him another look. “Jus’ see how it feels, all right?”

Her expression shifted slightly and he made his move. It was a simple strike, easy to see coming and easy to do something about. He only put so much effort into it, too. As she should have, Blue brought her own stick to clash against his and her expression shifted once more into something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. They did this a few more times before Blue took a few steps away and looked at her hand as though it weren’t of this world.

“What is it?”

She huffed. “It is… awkward is what it is. Yet not as much as I expected it to be. It…” She shook her head. “It is far more natural than I expected it to be.”

He allowed himself a small grin. “Yea. A lot of people don’t have very much trouble gettin’ used t’ usin’ their other hand.”

“No—” She cut herself off and looked at her hands. He couldn’t tell what exactly she might have been feeling, but it was something meaningful with how it bothered her.

“What is it?”

“I… I am reminded of when I was very young. When I was told to do this or that, I would try to initiate it with my left hand.” She stared at the top of that hand for a moment. “It… took me a long time to understand that I was to use my other hand.”

He didn’t think he was understanding. “What, they used t’ complain at ya when y’d use yer left hand?”

She made a face. “I wish that was all they had done.”

“… oh.” Z scratched at the back of his head, uncertain that he understood and not entirely sure that he wanted to.

“My mother was the most gentle about it,” Blue continued. “The others… well, I take it more adults than not take pleasure in making the little ones scream when they can.”

No, he understood, and he agreed. There was a discomfort on his face as he nodded. That wasn’t the point of Blue sharing this, though. “So… y’re left handed?”

She looked at her hand with some sort of realisation. “Well, I— perhaps? I have spent my life thus far using my right hand. I am uncertain…” She sighed after her words trailed off and shrugged her shoulders, wincing.

“So y’re left handed,” he said more sternly.

“In time I suppose I shall be.”

He nodded again. That was an acceptable answer. Now there was the question of whether or not to continue…

“Did y’ hurt yerself?”

She stared for a moment before understanding. “No, it— … no.”

He didn’t believe her one bit and he knew that showed on his face. That didn’t stop him from shaking his head. “Nah, let’s call it good an’ head back. We’ll practise with those old swords’a yers so y’ get used t’ the weight.”

She wrinkled her nose at him but kept quiet as they made their way back to the ship.

*

A strong wind took them west. By this point, all signs of battle south of Kraken’s Fall had disappeared to them, from the ships fading out of their view long ago to the clouds above it all ceasing to call to them. They could have gone in any direction they liked, but before them was a previously uninhabited island. Or at least it had been for a while. Now… well, Z wasn’t sure of what it was, either.

The island was made up primarily of a great stone archway. Surrounding it at every major directional point, almost like a cockeyed compass, were smaller rocks. Three of them had a single dock on them; a larger dock extended out from the main island’s southwest side. As they passed the small east rock with a dock, Z spotted a cannon on it that pointed at the main island. That seemed like it was asking for trouble until he thought about how it could also be used to fire oneself to the mainland. They had been here before when the construction had more recently begun. Now, though, there was so much that was completed or otherwise nearly done…

“What is this place?”

Z shook his head. “This is all new to me.” He didn’t notice her looking at him right away; he raised a brow when he did. “What?”

“You know,” she started, leaning on the railing to the helm’s left side; “when you proposed your little idea to me and put it to action, you made it seem like you knew everything about this world.” She paused. “It seems that the longer you are by my side, the less you know.”

At first, he wanted to respond with sharp words, growl about how the place was ever-changing and that he did know just about everything, thank-you-very-much! When he spotted a whisper of a smirk on her face, he realised she was teasing him. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that and was thankful for the late hour to excuse his fatigue with, then the dock attached to the mainland that they came up to, giving him cause to turn away from her to raise the sail the rest of the way.

That wasn’t to say that he hadn’t encountered some strange firsts by Blue’s side. Pirates on these waters taking hostages, the Shores of Gold, Skeleton Lords… He’d be lying if her words hadn’t truly stung a little.

To their north, by the northernmost existing dock, were two galleons. One was a bright blue and white, the other a brilliant green and white. He could spot no crewmen anywhere.

No longer was the great building up the way under construction. It didn’t sound like it was bursting with activity like a busy tavern, but looks could be deceiving. If this were not to be some sort of outpost, then what else could it be? It seemed he and Blue were of the same mind.

“This seems much like an outpost, does it not?” she said as they walked up the ramp to the building.

“Kinda…” He rubbed at his chin as they walked. “I saw a spot for a shipwright, it looked like. But I don’t see anywhere for the Companies’ reps…”

They were up to the building now. The lady that had greeted them here before was facing another, said something that he didn’t catch, and then stepped inside. It seemed Blue was brave enough to approach the woman who remained beside the closed door. Said woman noticed them and though her expression shifted to one that was less annoyed, she was still clearly agitated.

“Are we allowed to know what this is?” Blue asked, gesturing to the building in general.

“This is the Glorious Sea Dog.” She cleared her throat. “I’m Amaranta, currently the vice-leader of the Sea Dogs Arena.”

So that was what the sign said. Below the letters was an image of a very furry dog.

Blue was enthused. That or she was relishing the opportunity to talk to someone that wasn’t him. “Tell me about it, then?”

“Apparently ‘we celebrate the competitive spirit.’ That’s what I’ve been told to say by that pair, anyway.”

“Pair?”

“DeMarco and Lesedi, the twins.”

That was a name that he hadn’t heard in a very long time. Z was so surprised that he didn’t hear what else Amaranta said.

“So this Arena is a test of one’s ability to fight in a fair environment,” Blue said, almost questioning. She put her hands on her hips, expression thoughtful for a moment. “But is it worth my time?”

“The question is are you worthy of the Arena?” Amaranta shot. Blue recoiled slightly. “When I’m in charge of the Sea Dogs, things will be very different. Only the best will be allowed to compete! Everyone else can go back to finding spotted pigs for the Merchant Alliance.”

Blue didn’t seem like she knew what she thought of this.

“So,” Z started, hand on his chin until he decided to ignore the woman’s poor mood; “it’s a last ship standin’ kinda deal? Sounds fun. I love hearin’ a gally crew scream when a sloop hits ‘em with a ballastball.”

Amaranta rolled her eyes. “It’s a fair competition. None of those cursed cannonballs are allowed, and only galleons are allowed. We supply the ships for the competitors for some reason.”

Well, that was a downer. It was very interesting that the ships were supplied, though. That kept him interested. When Z looked at Blue, he noticed that she didn’t seem totally annoyed about this. Still, looking at her in her vest and trousers — rather than the pretty dresses she first wore around him — reminded him of her injured arm.

“I think we’ll pass fer now,” he said. He ignored the noise of disgust from Amaranta. “We got some friends t’ go meet up with.”

“That we do,” Blue commented. She looked up and then at the setting sun. “It is all right that we stay here for the night, yes?”

“Do whatever you want,” she said. “I’m just here to spread the word.” Without another one, Amaranta turned away from them and stepped into the tavern.

He and Blue looked to each other before she started them back down the ramp to the dock.

“I do not like her,” she said once they were safely out of earshot. “She is very rude. Something about her is not quite right.”

Z chuckled. “Yea, I dunno what her deal is.”

Blue made a thoughtful noise and said nothing more for the night.

*

He and Blue had silently been eating their dinner at a corner table when he heard footsteps outside the Drowned Rat. Z was less than enthused to see four people pass through the threshold a moment later. There had been no ships around when they docked the sloop not so long ago, and these pirates’ clothes and gear were all mostly dry, so they had to have used a rowboat to get around. Why, he could not immediately discern. Instead, he glanced at Blue, but if she was uncomfortable with their new company, she didn’t show it. No, just like always, she was ready to deal with people in a non-violent manner. He supposed that, given her state, that was their best option, but he wouldn’t be able to relax around these people.

Those people had started finding their places in the tavern. A man went towards the counter while a woman came towards them, and the remaining two — Z didn’t look closely at them but thought them another man and woman — went over to the long table with bench seating. He and Blue both ignored them all in favour of giving the one approaching them their attention.

Blue, stiff and alert but wearing a pleasant smile, sat upright and sharply addressed the woman first. “What can we do for you?”

“Oh, well,” the woman started, clearly a little agitated herself now; “I thought I ought to introduce me and my crew since we’re going to be sharing this tavern tonight’s all.”

Z eyed her curiously. Blue did, too, just for a moment, before speaking again.

“Forgive me if we seem a little shocked. We check the horizon regularly and saw no ships whatsoever. You and your crew’s clothing is dry, which means you didn’t swim here. You see how mischievous this seems to us, yes?”

The woman forced a light laugh, a hand coming up to her chest. “Ah, yes, yes, I do. I’m sorry. We were short on supplies when a megalodon took some interest in us, you see. We did not fare very well.”

“And it jus’… didn’t care ‘bout yer rowboat?” Z chimed in.

“Ah, no, it did not. The little ones followed us for quite a time, though.”

That was what he expected to hear. Still, Z was unnerved. When he spotted Blue looking at him, he thought he read her expression as more one of curiosity than anything else. He didn’t know what that could be about. He just hoped it didn’t mean Blue was actually interested in making friends with these people.

“What was your ship called?” Blue asked.

“She was the Brawling Blight . She’s seen better days, I’m afraid. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no real reason. I was simply wondering if you were another crew we heard of being dispatched by a megalodon.”

He got the feeling that Blue was doing exactly as he had hoped otherwise. Z only paid so much attention to their conversation, instead paying more attention to the woman’s shipmates. They seemed restless. He focused back on their chit-chat when he heard Blue sound surprised.

“Well, it’s only a small favour. We needn’t share the tavern , you know?”

“A sloop can be crowded even with only two people,” she shot back. She pushed her nearly empty plate of food away before standing. “Besides, we were only here for dinner.”

“Ah. I see.” The woman tapped her chin as though thinking. “Well, see, as much as I understand, my crew might not be so forgiving.”

All of said crew was now looking in their direction.

Z stood as well. He was closer to the door, but the interloper was somewhat in their way. He grabbed Blue by the wrist with his furthest hand and pulled her behind him as he shimmied towards the door, keeping himself between her and everyone else.

“And that’d be a big mistake,” he warned.

The woman gave him an exaggerated shrug, feigning a helpless expression. “I’m only telling you because I think it’s fair to give everybody a warning.”

Her crew was on their feet now, encroaching.

That was stupid of her. Z thought she was just getting a kick out of the situation and he forced himself to look past his rage. He turned his head only as much as he needed to in order to look at Blue, who seemed rather indecisive. Her light pulling only made him tighten his grip on her wrist.

“Ship. Now.” That was all he said before damn near throwing her out the doorway, slamming the door shut with his shoulder.

The entire crew lurched after him but one man was especially eager and looked intent on grabbing him. Z met the man’s advancement with the open end of his blunderbuss’ barrel. The tension that had been growing in the tavern suddenly shattered as the dead man’s crew looked on in horror.

The tavernkeeper was the first to break the silence. “Now there’s blood all over my floor!”

“Wha’d ya go and do that for?!” one of the crew cried.

“Now I’m really gonna fuck you up!” the remaining man hollered as he drew his cutlass.

Z was just disappointed that he had to use his gun so soon. They would certainly not allow him time to reload it so he simply swapped which hand held it and drew his own sword.

The woman that had approached them in the beginning hung back as her two remaining crewmates stepped forward. Z was not allowed time to consider who he wanted to focus on fighting when the man swung first at him. It was sloppy and Z recognised that he was fighting with more emotion than thought. A second swing was parried but Z didn’t advance as he could have, making sure to keep himself between them and the door.

It was a good thing he had the foresight to not drop his gun. When the other woman had an opening to lunge at him, he had to shove her sword away with the blunderbuss. That did, however, allow him the opportunity to step forward and drive his cutlass into her gut. His sword withdrawing with a squishing noise was more than satisfying to his ears, the thick coat of blood on most of his blade’s length confirming that she would die. He pointed his sword at the man before pushing her away with his gun. Judging by the look on his face, he was about to charge Z.

The first woman’s voice pierced the air. “Zac, get out of my way.”

He stepped back from Z before turning his attention to her, nodding sheepishly as he put distance between himself and them. Z thought this curious until he saw her draw two swords. It wasn’t disallowed in the Sea of Thieves, but it was very uncommon.

In the time it took her to take one step, Z thought about the situation — which he decided he now thoroughly disliked — before barrelling into the door, breaking it off its hinges, and heading for the bit of jungle behind the tavern. As much as he relished the opportunity to fight a duel-wielder, so uncommon as they were, he had to consider Blue. Dying now would do her no good.

Even after all these years with his pegleg, he still forgot how much it slowed him down. The only thing that saved him from having a pair of swords in his back was immediately stopping when he realised he had so little distance and turning to slash at the woman. He was glad to hear her yelp, taken by surprise and only just blocking Z’s swing. He swung again and though it was blocked, he heard her grunt. Z reckoned he swung hard enough to threaten her grip on her weapons.

“You’re not leaving so soon, are you?” she shot the moment she recovered. She swung both her weapons and it was his turn to hiss in pain, a sloppy move from her grazing his arm. “We were only going to bother you and make you feel bad for leaving us, but you’re the sort to rush head-first into a fight, aren’t you?”

Z forced a smirk. “Guilty as charged,” he said haughtily.

A sideways swipe coming from down low was a hard thing to block and Z didn’t have the opportunity to leap away. He was able to block the top blade, but the lower one connected with his knee, just above his pegleg, dropping him with another pained hiss.

“Gotcha.”

Z only just kept himself quiet as she lowered her weapons, forcing his eyes to stay on her.

“You know, you could have just let my guys rough you up a little, but nooo, you had to go and shoot Lance in the chest. You couldn’t just—”

“Hey,” he said simply.

She looked flustered. “What?” she shot.

“Nothin’, I just wanted y’ t’ stop movin’ fer a minute.”

The woman looked confused for a moment until Blue brought her dagger forward around her neck, slashing her throat in one smooth move. She yelped, a sound that turned into a gurgle, and brought her hands to her neck, futilely trying to stymie the flow of blood. She turned just enough to glance at Blue before she fell over.

“Odd,” she said as she looked the woman’s body over before the Sea of the Damned claimed it. “I have never seen someone else use two swords at once. I read— well, that can wait.”

“Uh, yea, yeah, it can,” Z said, a little confused by her perplexity. He looked her up and down and noted that she was soaked.

Blue put her dagger away and then offered her offhand to him. He put his weapons away before a startled yelp coming from behind him startled them, too. They looked over to the remaining crewman stepping away from them.

With his condition, Z was willing to let the man go. He had even started to think of what to say when a gunshot went off beside him and he saw the man fall drop.

“… remind me t’ not piss you off,” he said somewhat playfully as he took in the sight of Blue holding her Eye of Reach. She gave him a little scoff before extending her hand again. He awkwardly got to his feet. “And, uh, thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she said, looking him up and down. “You are still to get back to the ship.”

He made a face. “So, y’ sent it off, jumped, an’ came back, didn’t ya?”

“Not exactly , but yes. I sent her northward and then jumped.”

“Ah.” Saltwater to a wound, especially a sword cut, never felt good — he did not look forward to that. “Well, I’ll be able t’ swim jus’ fine, I’m jus’… gonna… ahem, I can’t really walk.”

Blue gave him a quizzical look before looking down at his leg again. The amount of blood certainly helped her understand. With a little huff, she put her left side against him and they got him situated so she could help him to the water. Z didn’t bother silencing himself or toning down how much he swore and how he swore when it came time to actually swim. The water more than stung a little.

When they were in deep enough water, a merfolk circled them for a moment before stopping, poking her head out of the water and beginning to sing her song. Blue waited beside her until Z caught up, and then they each took a hand of hers and were whisked away, back to the Forlorn Phoenix .

Chapter 40: Further and Further

Summary:

If the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, what in the world is the road to the future paved with?

Notes:

I'M SICK AGAIN AAAAA I'M SORRY

With four people dead at Plunder Outpost, that meant a normal galleon’s worth of pirates were dead, but Z nor Blue felt safe after the fight that had occurred. They sailed most of the night, putting plenty of distance between them and the now cursed-feeling outpost. By the time that Z finally felt like they were being silly, they were closer to the next island over than not.

Z was in no condition to be making those decisions, anyhow. When they had gotten back to the ship, Blue had dragged him to the desk’s chair, given him a towel to dry himself with and another to press to his knee, telling him to sit, and so that was what he did. Even after so many hours of doing what felt like nothing, sitting there putting pressure on the wound, it still bled a little. He’d be lying, too, if he said he wasn’t a little bit woozy, the towel thoroughly reddened.

When the Forlorn Phoenix was fully stopped at Plunder Valley’s southwest beach, Blue came down to check on him. She hid it well, but he knew she was tired.

“Has the bleeding stopped?”

“Eh, mostly?”

He lifted the towel for her to look at it. It took a few seconds for a droplet of blood to slip down from the lowest point of it and he pressed the towel back onto it. Blue sighed.

“If y’re tired, go t’ bed—”

“You are hardly in a position for me to do that even if that were the case,” she said sharply. She gave him another disapproving look before turning around, ducking down into the ship’s hold, returning a few minutes later with her sling bag on and that blasted stick.

“What, uh, what’re we—”

“I was not allowed the opportunity to buy anything before we were intruded upon,” she explained. “That” — she pointed at his knee — “still needs to be cleaned.”

“… so we’re hikin’ up t’ the waterfall…?”

“Correct.” She offered him the stick and then her left hand.

Z made a face but Blue was wholly unaffected by his displeasure. With a sigh, he resigned himself to dropping the towel and getting on his feet with the help of her and the stick.

The hike up to the waterfall wasn’t quite as bad as he expected it to be in his state. It was a difficult climb, what with them each being down a limb and groping around in the darkness, but they managed to get to their destination without obtaining any new injuries or worsening existing ones. Blue hadn’t stopped dragging him along until they were both right underneath the waterfall, unceremoniously letting go of him so he could fall on his ass in the water. He swore he heard her chuckle after he yelped and got his bearings straight.

“Y’ know, you could be a little less…” He gestured to her in general. Blue only laughed.

“Oh, hush. Now, do you want to clean that yourself or—”

“Nope.”

He was honest about it. On second thought, Z realised that her aid meant he wouldn’t be the only one soaked tonight. The Ancient Isles might have been warmer than the other regions, but the water was still chilly in the cooler air of the nighttime. That was a funny thought.

“No, what?”

Right, he hadn’t been quite fast enough with his answer.

“Err, it’d be a lot easier if y’d just…” He gestured at the wound.

She looked him over once. “Very well.”

A whole lot of rum would have made the experience all the more endurable. Blue gave him her sheathed dagger to bite down on just like before, but all that helped do was protect his teeth from themselves.

The initial sensation of water pouring into the open wound had nearly been enough to make him scream. Maybe he had, anyway. By the time Blue was back on her feet and pulling at him to move away from the waterfall, he was a sweaty mess despite the temperatures. Z only pushed himself over until he was sat at the water’s edge before he stopped, too stressed to move any further.

He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again, Blue was sitting beside him with her legs crossed, facing mostly his way with his leg propped up along her knees so it was relatively straight. She had already begun stitching the wound closed and he had hardly noticed. She paused when she spotted his gaze.

“Do I—”

“It’s fine.”

She made a thoughtful noise before continuing.

Before, when they had just met and he needed her to patch him up, Z wouldn’t have described her touch as gentle . This time, though he didn’t ask, he got the feeling that she was trying to work as painlessly and thoroughly on him as she could, rather than just trying to get it over with. He almost wanted to ask, but how would he even voice that as a question? Even stranger was how fast her progress was.

“How y’ workin’ so fast in the dark like this?”

She paused for a moment before continuing, refraining from retaliating. He did have to wait another few seconds for her to respond, though, to which she gave him her awkward half-shrug.

“I see fairly well with the light from the stars and moon. If this were a moonless night I might have some trouble, but as it is…” She looked up from his knee to scan the area around them. “Perhaps I could not detect well hidden danger, but I see well enough to do this work.”

“Huh.” He leaned back on his hands and scanned the area as she had. He realised now that he had mostly been trying to make conversation to distract him from the awkward pain of his wound being tended. The topic, however, was still engaging. “I guess so. I feel like I’m flounderin’ ‘round sometimes. Then again… Well, I guess we’re better off than most folks are.”

He could see well enough to see her quirk her brow at him. “What does that mean?”

He couldn’t help a grin. “It means more pirates than not have trouble lookin’ in the dark spots’a their ships even in the middle’a the day.”

She stopped again but shook her head at him with some exaggeration.

“Y’ know, tucking away on somebody else’s ship?”

“No,” she started loudly, “I have not—” She cut herself off very sharply, freezing. It was one of those moments of pause that Z now knew better than to disturb. “I do know what you mean,” she admitted. “And no, I have not stowed away on anyone’s ship here.”

Here was the keyword to Z. “Ah, but you have away from here, haven’t ya?” he shot, a stupid grin on his face.

Blue’s mood visibly shifted and he regretted saying those words. Before he could say anything further, she rolled her shoulders as well as she could and leaned further towards his knee.

“I have,” she said quite unexpectedly. That gave him some hope that she wasn’t about to butcher his leg any more than the shark had. “But it is irrelevant to your interests and business.”

“Huh?” Z was surprised, both that he hadn’t upset her as much as he thought — or had he? — and that she elaborated at all whatsoever. He tapped his index fingers at the dirt. “Y’ know,” he started, feeling brave; “y’re awful secretive.”

There was the rough poke of the needle and yank of the material that he expected. He hissed lightly.

“Am I?” she asked. “I know nearly nothing about you.”

“Wha, really?” he shot back. “I don’t—”

“You know far more about me than I do you,” she said. “I haven’t a clue where you came from or if you’ve been here all your life.” She finally stopped to look at him properly. “I do not know that. I haven’t a clue how old you are, what you actually do or why, how you met any of your friends or why they are your friends. I do not know what motivates you, what you strive for, who you pray to—”

With a huff, Blue silenced herself. She gripped his leg on either side of his knee now, clearly frustrated. Z just regretted getting to this moment in the first place.

“Perhaps not a lot more,” she said, each word like molasses on her tongue. Z just recoiled. “But more nonetheless.”

“So… wh… what do you wanna know?” he asked with a great deal of uncertainty.

Blue just smiled and shook her head. “Nothing. Nothing at all,” she said as she started working on his wound again. “It is the future I am interested in.”

He bit the inside of his cheek. “Y’ know, y’re a bad liar.”

Blue looked so stunned when her eyes turned back to him.

“If that were true then y’ wouldn’t be so upset ‘bout this.”

Her eyes narrowed some at him. “Be that as it may, my point still stands. If it is irrelevant to the direction we steer ourselves, is it worth knowing?”

He didn’t think it was true that he knew more about her than she did him. Or perhaps it was, but it was such a slight difference… No, what he wondered was how much she really wanted to know.

“Is that what you tell yourself?” There was another rough poke at his skin but he reacted no more beyond the flinch that he could not help. Z looked off to the stars. “Maybe that’s what we got in common: neither of us want t’ linger in the past.”

Blue worked on his knee for a long moment before stopping. “That’s the smartest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

He snorted. “What, jus’ ‘cause I don’t read don’t mean I’m stupid!”

“ Can’t read,” she corrected.

He eyed her back once he noticed her gaze, but there was no ill intent from either of them and he couldn’t keep it up for long, looking away with amusement. A moment later Blue patted his knee — it wasn’t a great sensation but it was a far cry from the pain he had been in earlier.

“Done?”

She nodded. Blue then got back onto her feet before extending a hand to help him up to his. His knee might not have been bleeding anymore, but it still hurt and he found that he didn’t want to let go of her once they started in the direction back to the ship. He was just glad she didn’t seem to mind supporting him.

“You know,” Blue started, startling him out of the comfortable silence that had surrounded them. She waited to make sure he was listening before continuing: “I say I am interested in the future, what it holds. But that does not mean that the past is not worth remembering and revisiting. … Sometimes.”

“Huh.” They took a few steps as Z thought on that. “Y’ know, that’s the smartest thing I’ve ever heard y’ say.”

Blue narrowed her eyes at him but he could see her fighting back the amusement. He just chuckled to himself and they made their way back to the sloop.

So much time had been spent sailing to get them here that it was nearly morning by the time they were back aboard, dried off and fed, and ready to actually get some sleep. Z wasn’t sure if he would describe himself as excited by the inevitable prospect of them having to share the bed down where it was dark enough to sleep, but there was a certain piece of himself that was certainly looking forward to it.

He had to sleep in the bed. With this fresh injury, it simply could not be argued. He was unsurprised to see Blue simply accept this fact. What surprised him was her bringing a torn length of sailcloth over and wrapping his knee in it once he had started getting comfortable.

“It was still oozing after all that time,” she explained.

“Kind’a feels better, too.”

“That as well.”

To say that Z was shocked when he was offered the pain reliever she had spent so much time sipping at was an understatement, the amount much closer to the bottom than the top. He eyed her and the bottle and back and forth at least once more. Blue rolled her eyes at him.

“Well, hey now, I-I don’t…” He shook his head. “Y’ need that more than I do.”

“It is going to run out eventually all the same.”

“Y-Yea, but…” But it didn’t feel right. He shook his head again.

“Fine,” Blue said, setting it atop the contents of the clothing chest; “Have it your way.”

He made a noise of acknowledgement and was just glad that Blue didn’t push the matter any further.

He was also glad for foresight, having settled down closer to the edge of the bed than he previously would have. It had been quite a gamble, but after what was probably a moment of deliberation, Blue was curled up against his side once again. Guessing from what he had observed between how she had slept the other morning and on the Octavia , it must have felt great to be able to sleep on her side again. She always had done that on her spot on the canvas.

As they got comfortable, a thought occurred to Z. He was impressed by his ability to control the urge he felt to laugh, realising that he couldn’t help but say this one. He shouldn’t, but it’d be way too funny not to.

“Y’ know,” he started. When he was sure she was listening, he continued: “There is a way for us both to find some relief from the pain we’re feelin’ without usin’ up that medicine.”

Blue was not stupid. Z, however, felt like he was the biggest idiot of them all when she slowly sat up and brought a leg over him, straddling him at the middle. A moment later and something felt off, if the situation could have even been more so.

“Is that so?”

No, that wasn’t right. That wasn’t how this should have gone — in either direction he could think of — and now he was concerned. Before Z could even get a little ‘Huh?’ out, Blue dragged the extra pillow over his face and pressed down, albeit not very hard. It was more like a little bit of weight was shifted onto her hands.

It took a moment to register what was happening and Z started laughing into the pillow. He swore he heard a snort come from Blue but he didn’t check her expression before grabbing her upper left arm and putting his other hand around her midsection, wrestling her back onto her side. She seemed to think the matter quite funny and yielded right away with an amused huff. Z just poked her nose with as stern of a face as he could muster before getting settled on his back again. Blue’s smothering pillow was brought partially underneath her head as she got settled against his side and then she wrapped it and her left arm around the top half of her head, covering her eyes, and Z found that he had simply wrapped that side’s arm around her side.

With all that taken care of, they could finally get some sleep.

*

A sharp pain in his side woke him and then he realised he heard Blue panting beside him. No longer was she curled up against him, rather she was sitting upright and looking quite alarmed. A glance around the hold revealed nothing. Z chanced touching her left arm and she startled out of her daze, stiffening before she jerked her head to look at him.

“What is it?”

Blue just stared at him for a moment longer before bringing her hands onto her arms, holding herself and looking away. She looked rather horrified before she put her back to him and Z couldn’t deduce any reasoning for that.

“Blue?”

“It’s all right,” she said with a slight waver to her words.

He sat up on his elbows and winced slightly, having moved his leg awkwardly as he sat up. “Y’ sure don’t look all right.”

He sat up all the way and placed a hand on her back, right between her shoulder blades. She tensed slightly at his touch, leaning away just a little. His side hurt still.

“Well, I sure don’t feel all right after whatever that was,” he said, wide awake. He eyed her curiously, wondering just what exactly she had done and why—

Oh. She was the noise he had heard occasionally since…

“Uhh—” He cleared his throat, unsure of how to word his question any way other than straightforwardly. “Did you have a bad dream or somethin’?” he asked slowly.

Blue hunched her shoulders a little more and that just about confirmed his suspicions. She didn’t need to, but she answered reluctantly, saying, “I did.”

He gently took his hand away from her and leaned forward on his knees. “Do ya wanna talk about it or…?” Though he phrased it as a question, Z fully intended to push the matter and hoped she picked up on that. He didn’t think she understood with the way she further stiffened. That, or perhaps she was more annoyed with him than he realised, or—

“It’s been ev’ry night since the Winter’s End . I didn’t think I would have to deal with that, not here, and then Graymarrow…”

There was an unsettling monotony to her words as she spoke. This sort of thing was pretty new between them and Z didn’t think he knew her especially well, but he could tell she was… not doing well. Blue could be annoying with that aura of pride and confidence she carried, but there was none of that right now. No, it was just like it had been back on the Octavia after dealing with the Gold Hoarder, only without the tears. So far, at least.

With a breath that helped him stay calm and release some amount of tension, Z gently — but firmly — got his arms around her and pulled her close to his side. He felt her fight a little, but as soon as they were back down that stopped and she was holding onto a fistful of his shirt, pressing her forehead into his side.

Neither of them went back to sleep after that.

*

Discovery Ridge was rather far away and took them further away from the rest of the Sea of Thieves. Sailor’s Knot Stronghold was just straight up far away. With these unappealing choices before them, the decision was made to simply stay at Plunder Valley for another day. Z was allowed to rest his leg and recover from his fight in the tavern and they were able to reset their sleep schedules. Though there was a simple genius in alternating when they slept, neither of them seemed appreciative of that idea now.

The next day they set out for Sailor’s Knot as it was the closest island upon entering the Shores of Plenty from the angle that they did. It was also along the way to Golden Sands Outpost if they turned north after visiting it, though they didn’t do that. Z did note that Blue didn’t manage to conquer this stronghold’s towering peak, but perhaps that was for the better — if she fell, he had no idea how much worse she might make her injury.

Why they ended up at Mermaid’s Hideaway, Z didn’t understand. They hadn’t talked about it, but it made sense that they would go to Golden Sands. Some supplies had been managed from the skeleton fort of yesterday, but…

“Why are we here?”

Blue looked up from the papers she was working on to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“Why are… Hm. We’re goin’ t’ Golden Sands, ain’t we?” She nodded to him and he added: “Then why didn’t we just go north t’ the Lagoon’a Whispers?”

“Well, I thought we could use the proper baths that we avoided at Plunder Valley.”

That was fair. He thought that would be it, but Blue shifted and continued to speak.

“I have been fighting the waves on the way here, yes?” He nodded to her even though that seemed irrelevant. “Of course. We continued to head directly northwest, fighting those waves. Now, however, we can turn and ride smoother over the waves.”

The understanding must have shown on his face because Blue pointed at him with a haughty smirk. “Yea, yea, I get it,” he said. “That’s pretty smart.”

“I know,” she said, beaming at her own cleverness. “It means you will have an easy job tomorrow when you take the helm from me.”

“Oh.”

*

Blue hadn’t been wrong in the least and that annoyed Z on some level. On one hand, it was nice to know before the matter that he would have an easy time sailing that day, the wheel only requiring minimal attention. That did, however, also make the day rather uninteresting for him. Blue busied herself with something downstairs, probably tending to her books, so he was left on his own; that mostly consisted of thinking about nothing — or sometimes sharks — and enjoying the sea breeze.

They had arrived too late in the evening to eat at the tavern so instead they fished a few morsels out of the barrel to eat before curling in bed for the night. At that point, Z couldn’t help himself, teasingly pointing out that he felt like she was just using him as an elaborate pillow.

“And what if I am?”

He had no rebuttal for that response and it penetrated his thoughts for quite some time before sleep took him.

In the morning, Z was surprised to find Blue already awake and on the deck. She didn’t look at him when he came to stand by her side and that was curious. Following her gaze out into the ocean, he understood. A brigantine was far out, but it was certainly coming towards the outpost with purpose.

“Whaddya thinkin’?”

“Well, we have the entire island between us and them,” Blue pointed out. A far, unused dock had been the easiest place to stop the ship last night rather than beside the shipwright. “If we leave now, we may catch their attention and they may pursue out of— mm, it’s unimportant. If they pull into the main dock and act as though they are uninterested, we may have time to put some distance between us and them.” She gave him her lopsided shrug. “Or perhaps they have no nefarious intentions whatsoever.”

He blinked. “All right. I s’pose I asked.” He rubbed his chin. “So, whaddya wanna do ‘bout it?” he clarified.

Blue looked at him for a long moment before shrugging again. He pulled at his short beard.

“Y’ really have no ideas?”

“None that speak to me.”

He rose a brow at her. Then; “Well, why don’t we… why don’t we jus’ see what they do then?” Blue looked curious. “Y’ said that we could see if they pull int’ the main spot and see if they’d act like they’re stoppin’, yeah?”

“Hmm. So you are suggesting that we do take that route?”

“Somethin’ like that. We’ll see how it goes. Maybe we’ll have a chance t’ take somethin’ off their hands or somethin’.”

Blue gave him a look and he realised he had rambled some. He kept his attention on the brig as she gave a thoughtful hum.

“We will see.”

Despite discussing the handling of the brigantine without being hostile, both he and Blue armed themselves, grabbing supplies just in case of a fight. It admittedly made Z a little nervous doing that, but better to be prepared for it than not.

It turned out their concerns were uncalled for. Once a galleon’s worth of people disembarked from the brigantine — who turned out to be two sloops’ worth of crews — so came the crew of the brigantine: a lone Jackson. He and Z’s greeting, yelling at each other in what almost seemed like aggression, spooked everyone away. Why Blue chose to instead mingle with the two sloop crews, he didn’t know.

Later in the day, though, the three of them were sat at a corner table in the tavern eating dinner. Z had spoken quite a lot with Jackson, learning that he had sunk one sloop with the help of Rylund and Marcus. The beaten crew had been so insistent that they be aided and taken to the next outpost that they had eventually conceded and allowed the crew aboard — against everyone’s better judgement though it satisfied their curiosity. The brigantine, then manned by a five-man crew, took down another sloop that had instigated a fight. The original sloop crew then suggested taking the new one on as well.

Z was quite pleased that this brigantine was friendly. Getting into an open fight with Blue in her condition was not something he looked forward to. He didn’t look forward to bringing up the topic of them crewing up with Jackson, either, yet he and she occasionally made eye contact and he knew that was on both of their minds. Z was beginning to grow uncomfortable with how loud it had become in his.

“Say, I got another question,” he said.

Jackson swallowed his current mouthful of pork. “Yeah?”

“Where are Ry and Mark?”

“Oh. I dropped them off at Sanctuary.”

“So you need replacements for them,” Blue said flatly without looking up from her own meal.

“Well, yeah,” Jackson admitted. He smiled. “Why? You guys offerin’?”

“Yea, I think so,” Z said with some amusement. Blue’s tone wasn’t the most excited, but he was glad she hadn’t shied away from the topic.

“Well, that’d be great! I got the ship all ready, I just needed the crew. We can get some sleep t’night, move supplies in the mornin’ and then go huntin’!”

Blue paused and gave him a look he didn’t notice. Z wondered why she looked so sour but now didn’t seem like the time to ask. Explaining the situation to Jackson would be… difficult, he thought.

But it wasn’t.

“I think we could do with jus’ focusin’ on makin’ some coin,” Z had said.

He and Jackson were at the table in the brigantine’s captain’s quarters, shoddy as they were.

“Whaddya mean?”

Z rubbed at his chin. “What I mean is… let’s… hm, why don’t we go t’ the Roar?”

Jackson didn’t look convinced. Last time they had crewed up with him, Z had to keep Jackson from openly questioning his decisions concerning Blue, keep him content regarding her behaviour. Now, though, there was a different kind of concern across his countenance…

“Does it have somethin’ to do with that scar on her face?” Jackson was not a stupid man. Sometimes a little awkward, not so great at reading — but he could read! — and something of a hothead, but stupid he was not.

Z took a deep breath. “… Sort of. I’m not sure it’s really my place t’ be tellin’ y’ what exactly happened t’ her— us. It— Jus’ take my word fer it, all right? We both got roughed up an’ she almost lost her right arm.”

“Oh.” Jackson had that sort of look on his face that Z knew to usually come before him saying something dumb. “I thought she was just slouching.”

Z only kept his composure for a moment before snickering. “No, no, not at— well, she does kind’a do that now, but no. That drop in her shoulder is… yeah.”

Jackson made a face but nodded a moment later. “If you say so,” he said not unkindly. “But, uh—” His tone changed to one more sincere; “is she all right? After… whatever?”

Z’s immediate response was to nod. In the back of his mind, he thought S ure, she was fine, and he voiced that thought, but then he recalled the night she had woken them both up, the way she carried herself now, how much the scar on her face bothered her…

No. No, she was not fine.

Chapter 41: A Hard Day's Work

Summary:

The crew takes on a job and Blue spends most of it considering what her role in all of this is.

Notes:

Still kind of sick and this snuck up on me again. Ooops. >.>

The journey to the Devil’s Roar had begun and Jackson seemed… understanding of Blue’s condition. On the first night aboard the brigantine, they all had dinner together on the main-deck. Blue had felt like fishing, an attempt to bring about any semblance of normalcy, so they were all well-fed. Z had mentioned many times over that such a diet was especially good for their health, and if she was going to be dragging them down, she supposed that this was one way to help negate that.

The thought did linger on her mind, however. She found that she wasn’t quite willing to just sit down and tell Jackson all about her troubles, but how much had Z told his friend? He seemed to understand that things were not the same as before, but… well, Blue decided that thinking such thoughts was not the best way to spend her time. As far as she could tell, Z had practically offered to handle those matters, anyway. Any problems that came up could be taken to him if she liked, she supposed.

Who slept in the bed was a matter that didn’t come up. As he had procured the ship, that luxury normally would have gone to Jackson, but he seemed more than happy to offer it up to Blue. By the time the conversation came up, she was too tired to even try arguing and simply took to it. Besides, it wasn’t as though she could sleep in a hammock, and while she could sleep on the deck, she didn’t have Z’s gift to sleep well anywhere at any time — it would have been a counterproductive argument.

Blue found herself quite pleased with the bed anyhow. While hers aboard the Forlorn Phoenix was rather nice and well lifted, most sloops that had a mattress only had that — the mattress, placed upon the floor. The bed of this brigantine was barely off the ground, lower than hers. Yet, thanks to that, she was able to lie on her stomach and rest her right arm on the floor beside the bed, satisfying her desire to sleep some way other than on her back.

Backtracking to Plunder Outpost from Golden Sands only took them two days. Not needing to tend to any injuries helped, but mostly it could be attributed to the brigantine’s incredible speed. For as fast as she was, the ship also slid gracefully over the waves, producing a smoother ride than any other ship Blue had ever been on.

The outpost itself was explored cautiously. Though there was no reason to believe that anyone was there, their past visit had left them uneasy. Once it was ascertained that they were alone, dinner was had in the form of more fish Blue procured as the tavernkeeper had been less accommodating this time around. It was hardly a problem — Blue found that fishing was not so troublesome. Some of the larger fish that were landable took longer than usual for her to bring in, but that was the least to be expected, she supposed.

It was the next day that Jackson approached her. She was standing up at the prow, leaning against the raised boards that made up the base of the bowsprit. She greeted him with a polite nod but couldn’t fathom what he might want to talk to her about other than the obvious.

“Hey, so, I been wonderin’ about somethin’.”

She stood upright and faced him. “Shoot,” she said, certain she knew what he wanted.

“So, Z said something about something happenin’ and, uh… well, I was wonderin’ if you wanted to talk about it.”

Blue hadn’t thought about it like that. She and Z hadn’t discussed the matter in any detail, she didn’t feel the need to, and upon thinking about it, she found that she wasn’t terribly interested in that. The nightmares were bad enough.

The look on her face must have said enough because Jackson recoiled and looked a tad embarrassed.

“I mean, obviously y’ don’t have to, I just wanted to make the offer in case ya did.”

She considered that for a moment. She had no reason to believe he was doing anything but being considerate and there was no reason to assume the worst out of him, either.

“I appreciate that,” she said. After a quick moment of thought she added, “My memory is somewhat fragmented, but I almost lost my arm.”

“Z mentioned that.”

She nodded. “It is still… problematic. I only have so much range I can move in it. Lifting objects is difficult. I cannot, say, fight with that arm.”

His eyes lit up with a curiosity that he could not withhold. “So you’re fightin’ with your other arm?”

“We are working on that.”

“Ohh.” A smile crossed his face. “You’re gonna be a real good sword fighter when your other arm heals up.”

She could feel her expression becoming impassive, refusing to show how she truly felt about that, but also unable to fully force herself to stay positive like his view of it was.

“That is the hope.”

*

A stop was made at Ancient Spire Outpost to rest through the night, get a meal, and refresh their supplies. After that, they made southwest for the Devil’s Roar proper.

“What are we doing out here?” Blue finally asked when they stopped at Ashen Reaches and crowded around the table beside the bed.

“‘Member that thing I said about everything out here bein’ worth more?” Z said with some rhetoric.

She rolled her eyes. “Specifically, how are we going about that?” she asked, hoping she was more clear.

“‘Member that chest y’ stole the map to?”

She could feel her eyes light up at that. Z’s dumb little smirk widened. Jackson looked between them, dumbfounded.

“Those voyages’re the best way t’ make money so we do ‘em whenever we can’t find anyone doin’ ‘em for us,” Z explained. “The Companies really like for that stuff t’ be returned to ‘em.”

“Understandable.” She hummed thoughtfully. “And this voyage will… reward us greatly at the end?”

He nodded. “Uh huh.”

Jackson looked between them before settling on Blue. “First time?”

“Something like that,” she said.

Z leaned forward on the table and spread out the papers they had been given. “We got the usual two riddles, two x-marks the spot, two shipments, and two skeleton crews.” He turned and motioned for her and Jackson to follow.

Blue didn’t like how far away a brigantine’s map and voyage table were from each other, but it was unavoidable, she supposed. The map could also be viewed from on the main-deck at the bow through the grate, so that, too, had its use. The brigantine, Blue decided, simply didn’t feel nearly as homely as a sloop did.

“So we got one here at Ashen Reaches,” Z started, thumbing through the papers. Jackson made a small mark on the map. “And another over at Fetcher’s.”

Blue stood a little closer to his side and looked over his arm — these voyages were x-marks the spot maps, dig maps. It made sense that Z had memorised the layout of the islands here if they frequented the region. She suddenly wondered just how many islands he might have been able to recognise by layout alone, those in the Devil’s Roar or not…

The papers were handed over to Jackson and Z made the marks as he read the island names out. “Morrow’s, Devil’s Thirst, Brian’s Bazaar — oh, hey, there’s two at Fletcher’s! We got skellies there.”

Blue blinked at him. Fletcher ?

“And, uh, the other ones are at Flintlock, and the last one’s at Ruby’s Fall.”

Z had not said anything about it; perhaps she should not, too. Still, Blue’s spine itched at Jackson’s mispronunciation.

“All righty, so we’re startin’ here then,” Z started, looking over the map and papers; “then we’ll head t’ Devil’s Thirst, Morrow’s, Ruby’s, Flintlock, Fetcher’s” — he said it right! — “and the sea post.” He looked up at her and Jackson. “Think we can we remember that?”

Blue made a face and forced herself to focus on the question. “Why not keep the marks on the map?”

“‘Cause if somebody gets on our ship, they’ll know where we’re goin’.”

She wrinkled her nose. It seemed unlikely that such a thing would happen, but it had happened before, both with and without his presence…

“Very well… It should be safe in a book then, yes? One of mine that I am keeping beside the bed.”

Z visibly thought about that. “Yea, I guess so.”

“Then I will work on that while you two go dig up those chests.”

“Uh huh. Y’ know, y’re lucky y’ can’t join us in the dirt,” he teased.

Blue managed to look back at him with a smug smile before they separated into two groups at the stairs. As glad as she was to not be literally dirtying her hands in the mud and sand, it was not because of a choice she had made but rather because one had taken from her.

Z meant well, but it stung nonetheless to have to acknowledge her uselessness.

*

The Devil’s Thirst was not a particularly remarkable island, Blue thought. Like all the large islands in the Roar, it had a volcano looming over it, glowing red crystals that jutted out of its sides. Whether or not they indicated a volcano’s intentions of eruption, she didn’t know. Their previous visit to the region had not indicated anything certain in her eyes, so she decided to ask.

“Does the colour of the crystals on the volcanoes mean anything?”

Both men looked away from each other to her, their conversation forgotten. They nodded and murmured their affirmations.

She could not help asking, “Really now?”

“Yea,” Z said; “if there’s an earthquake and the crystals are bright red, y’ might as well get the ship movin’ out.”

Blue made a thoughtful face. “And yet, the protocol is to simply move the ship anytime there is an earthquake?”

“Sloops are tiny things,” he explained. “A brig can take a hit or two, but y’ should still move it. A gally’s the one that can just sit there and just get hit by a volcano. Well, sometimes.”

She eyed him. “So the gist of it is: be careful always and move the ship to safety.”

“Yea.”

Blue wanted to strike him but refrained. Jackson seemed to detect this as he laughed a moment later.

“Don’t be laughin’ yet, y’re the one that’s gotta go do the riddle still.”

That shut Jackson up. Blue allowed herself a small chuckle.

*

Blue really wasn’t sure what to do with herself. She was at the front of the brigantine once more, leaning on the start of the bowsprit, contemplating her place among the crew.

Z moved around the ship as he liked, standing where she was or along the length of the bowsprit or sitting up in the crow’s nest. Jackson was generally glued to the wheel or right beside it. They, for the most part, had their places. Off of the Forlorn Phoenix , Blue had no real good idea of what to do with herself. The two men got on just fine as a duo, and while they outwardly showed that they appreciated her being there, she just seemed… unnecessary.

Their next stop was Morrow’s Peak Outpost and Blue was very glad for that. An outpost meant they wouldn’t have any reason to confine her on the ship. In fact, Blue was the best person to be going around the outpost taking care of their needs. She could handle all of their business here and simply instructed the men to meet her inside the tavern by sundown. They were, of course, allowed to move the cargo aboard the ship right away as it was picked up from the resident Merchant Alliance liaison right beside their brig at the main dock.

After that was buying and trading for necessities and supplies. Their supply of planks and ammunition was fine, but food was an everlasting concern. She supposed that fishing helped alleviate that problem; Jackson had shown some interest in it but had yet to actually pick up a pole. Z — well, she knew he wasn’t going to do that except maybe for a stormfish.

Passing by the clothing shop, a thought occurred to Blue. Though there were bodies of freshwater here and there in the Devil’s Roar, it was hardly as though one could truly wash the ash from their clothes. At least grog was in good supply to solve the drinking problem… Not only that, but her crewmates tended to just tolerate any tears or holes in their clothing. Blue couldn’t stand that, personally, and them walking around in tattered clothing was very shameful. No, she could fix that, and that was one thing she could busy herself with while they were doing what they deemed dangerous or difficult work on the islands.

Rather than buy just them a set of new clothes, for she was unsure of what exact measurements Jackson might have needed, Blue spent her coin on leathers and fabrics that could be used to repair existing sets. These items were brought back to the ship — in a crate tucked under her good arm — and nestled into the hold. Blue did also notice that their cargo was simply placed along the bowsprit, something she disliked for the disregard it showed towards the cargo, but the job was done, technically, and she supposed that could be a well enough done job.

As per usual, her company could be found sitting at a table in the corner of the tavern. They were alone here, so their wariness was… something… of a mystery to her, but now…. now she felt like she shared it, if perhaps not for the same reasons she suspected their caution existed for.

“I have procured supplies for what will keep my hands occupied for the rest of the journey,” she declared.

Z didn’t even finish that previous bite of food before blurting out, “What’s that?”

Momentarily glaring at him for such rudeness, Blue answered, “I intend to make sure that every set of clothing that exists aboard that brigantine will be in tip-top shape by the time we are done with it.”

Jackson was the first to grasp her intentions, eyes wide with understanding. “Ooh! Y’ mean y’re gonna patch up all them holes we got in our clothes?” he said quickly.

“Quite.” Blue looked between them when their expressions shifted to one she could not decipher. “What?”

“Well, I guess, I mean, that’s not a bad idea,” Z said.

“I jus’ don’t wanna see all yer hard work at the bottom of the Sea,” Jackson added.

Blue wiggled a little in her seat, not quite sure she understood. “I have my sewing kit. I simply did not have material to work with.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s jus’… well, we don’t really keep our ships for long.” That came from Jackson and he looked rather embarrassed. She stared at him until he and Z glanced at each other, then back to her.

“So,” Jackson started, patting the table with both hands. “We, uh, well… We…”

“We us’ally jus’ ram our ship int’ other ships, board ‘em, kill ‘em, an’ then take it fer our own,” Z explained simply.

“Oh.” Blue blinked. “I suppose you mean all that literally?” He nodded. “And that includes simply… letting your own ship… drift away and below the waves while you are busy taking a new ship?”

“Uh huh,” he said, beaming.

She looked between the men. Jackson had taken on a sheepish grin that turned more confident when her gaze lingered and she could tell that this was true.

“… uh huh…” Blue sipped at her grog — she nearly spat it out, having forgotten how spicy it was. “This is… normal for you two?”

Both of them looked rather smug, Z especially so. “It’s come t’ be our special way’a doin’ things,” he said.

“Your… signature tactic, I see,” she responded. Her thoughts drifted back to when they had visited Plunder Outpost and accidentally met with Marcus and Rylund. They told her and Z that they had lost Jackson in a fight and it sounded to her as though they might have employed a similar strategy that had backfired on them. “Right.”

All Z and Jackson had to give in response was a haughty grin and a chuckle.

“Well, I suppose there is always room for change,” she said simply, picking at her food.

Though she didn’t look, she could detect her companions’ temperaments shift to that of curiosity. It seemed that they weren’t entirely sure what she meant, but neither did they feel the need to push the matter. Light conversation of a different topic was made for the rest of dinner.

In the morning, another meal was had at the tavern for breakfast, accompanied by the unique flavours of their house grog. Blue was not fond of them, neither was Jackson, and Z seemed to get more of a kick out of their displeasure of it than from drinking it directly himself.

The voyage took them east to the island of Ruby’s Fall. Not long after they had departed the outpost, Blue turned her attention to the cargo on the bowsprit, its presence suddenly remembered.

“Where does this need to go?” she asked. When the men looked curious, she directed their attention to the crates.

Z gave a little “Oh, yeah,” of realisation as he went past her and climbed onto the bowsprit. Never would she have ever expected him to simply kick the crates off the ship. She must have looked as appalled as she felt because the moment he looked back at her, he was laughing.

“What do you think—”

“Easy, lady,” he said, raising his hands; “we ain’t runnin’ cargo for the Merchants. All that matters is that we picked it up. We never said anythin’ ‘bout deliverin’ it.”

Her eyes felt as though they were as wide around as the sun was bright on a clear day. Everything in her gut was telling her that this was wrong, that it wasn’t the way to go about doing things, but after giving it another moment’s thought, Blue didn’t have a good argument. If they took too long to finish their task, then they might as well have been doing something else, and the whole point of this voyage was the one Chest of Legends at the end of it all… Everything they picked up along the way was nice, the chests for the Gold Hoarders and the skulls they would nab for the Order, but as for the Merchant Alliance… no, if that was all that was required …

She leaned against the bowsprit’s base. “You’re not wrong,” she finally admitted, rubbing at her neck.

Z put his hands on his hips and beamed at that.

*

Blue almost asked Z to stay on the ship in her stead. She could read and walk about and help Jackson with the riddle here at Ruby’s Fall, but when it came to digging the chest up once they knew its location… No, she was better off on the ship.

They were busy and Blue kept herself busy by keeping an eye out. The riddle shouldn’t take them terribly long, just long enough to bore her, so she suffered the pain and awkwardness of pulling herself up into the crow’s nest. She regretted that about three-fourths of the way up, but she was too high to give up at that point. Besides, the view gave her a useful look around the general vicinity about them, and the sun lowering to the west horizon was rather striking. It was then that she realised that they were taking quite some time with this riddle.

Looking to the island, she could spy Z and Jackson stood before a rock, discussing something. A secondary glance through her spyglass showed her a skeleton where the dirt and rock met.

The sun was touching the horizon when Z and Jackson finally came back aboard the ship, their shovels covered in fresh mud, their hands empty of treasure.

“I can’t figure out what this damned thing wants from us!” Jackson had spat when questioned about their tardiness.

Z shrugged. “We found a body t’ the western side of the island; I guess it’s northwest. But it ain’t really crushed, not exactly.”

Blue hummed thoughtfully before turning to Jackson. She extended a hand out. “May I?”

“Knock yerself out,” he said, happy to be rid of the paper.

Blue looked it over. She went to the final line on it, making a face. “You said you found something to the northwest?”

Z nodded; Jackson said, “Yea, but like he said—”

“This says northeast.”

The men both stared at her incredulously. Jackson blinked and held a hand out. “Lemme see.” The enchanted paper was passed back to him and his eyes darted across the words. “… Oh.”

Blue forced a smile. Her understanding was that he could read… Perhaps he could, just not well.

Jackson looked at Z. “Should we—”

“I’m hungry.”

“… Yeah, same, actually.”

Blue rolled her eyes. “I suppose there is no harm in you waiting here and resting while I get something ready for you two, but then you will be stumbling around in the dark—”

“Fine, fine,” Z said loudly. “We’ll go while y’re cookin’ then.”

She made a face at him, one that was somewhat annoyed and amused, and he fired his own back at her. He leaned forward slightly and Blue found she was uninterested in a staring contest. She waved them off. “Go.”

He chuckled and quickly made his way back up to the main-deck. Jackson rose a brow, looked between her and where Z had been before shrugging and following his crewmate out of the hold.

When they returned sometime later, it was with a simple box with a few pieces of treasure in it. It was all ashen, so that was satisfactory. Blue made sure they were fed and then the matter of resting properly came up. It was getting quite dark and she found that she could swing either way; Jackson and Z were eager to keep the voyage’s progress moving along so the ship was taken northwest to Flintlock Peninsula for their next task.

“Is fighting a horde of skeletons at night really the best of ideas?” Blue asked.

Z paused in the middle of stuffing ammunition into his pockets to stare at her. His expression led her to believe that he understood her point exactly, but—

“Sure it is! What’s the worst that’ll happen? We go t’ the Ferry and have t’ deal with the rest’a them later?”

Blue didn’t hold her glare back at all. He recoiled and sheepishly looked away.

Jackson was less embarrassed. “Yea,” he said to her, scratching at his head; “I guess ya got a point there.”

She pinched at the bridge of her nose, shaking her head at them. Had they really not given it that much thought?

“I am going to go to bed,” she declared. “Do as you will,” she said to the two of them before turning away and making for the aft of the ship.

*

“You should really take your own advice,” Blue scolded.

Z only grumbled an acknowledgement, too busy fighting her grip on his chin to give a more serious rebuttal. He was sitting on the edge of the bed while she stood before him, trying to tend to the nasty cuts he had received from a skeleton’s blade. Blue only paused before continuing to dab excess blood off his face.

“I don’t know what that is,” Jackson said, looking over Blue’s shoulder, “but that is a pretty bad set’a cuts ya got there.” He looked for a moment longer before pulling away, coughing away a gag. “I gotta stop lookin’ at that,” he said before going back to the main-deck.

“It can’t be that bad,” Z whined.

“How much does it hurt?”

“Uh, a lot?”

He was of sound mind, so it couldn’t be that bad. Still, Blue shook her head. “Then it looks much worse than it feels,” she said.

He rolled his eyes and she grabbed his chin again, making him scrunch up his face. That aggravated the wounds and made him recoil more.

“Stop moving,” Blue said sternly. Z glared lightly at her as she made him turn his head so she could better look at the wounds. It looked like a sword had been swung in an attempt to take his head off and Z had tried to duck under it, instead catching the blade with his face. She huffed at the gouge in his nose.

“I will simply have to fight the flow of blood while I sew this up.”

“Wh— Wouldn’t that make it harder t’ make the line straight or-or somethin’ like that?”

“You’re not wrong,” she said simply, stepping to the side to face the table and start gathering materials to fix his face up.

“Wh—”

Z slumped his shoulders when she looked back at him. She supposed she could busy him while she got ready to fix him up so Blue turned back to him. She took him by the wrist and stuffed the cloth that was full of his blood into his hand and brought it up to his face. He just whined pitifully when she turned away.

“Y’ know,” he started; Blue almost struck him. He cleared his throat. “Y’ know, the skellies we find on these missions are tougher than most others.”

“Is that so?” she asked without looking, threading silk through a needle’s eye.

“Yea. They don’t really hit any harder but sometimes y’ just hit ‘em an’ hit ‘em an’ they jus’ keep comin’.”

Blue wrinkled her nose. “And.. it has been a long time since you last did one of these voyages for yourself and you became complacent in your abilities due to your constant handling of skeletons that do fall over in one hit?”

He mustered up as much of a glare as he could. Blue simply shook her head.

“And because of your complacency, you nearly lost your nose.”

“No, I didn’t— it’s not that bad, is it?” The waver in his voice told her that he was lying.

“A slight downward tilt of the sword would have lopped your nose right off.” As if to illustrate her point, Blue poked the tip of his nose. He hissed and she smirked.

“Now then, hold still.”

*

“We have two here,” Z declared as they finished getting the brigantine stopped in the calm waters of Fetcher’s Rest. “More skellies and some digs.” He wriggled his nose again, the feeling of the stitches in it — and his cheeks — clearly still bothering him, the wounds healing well.

Blue quickly said, “Go find the skeletons first so you are not ambushed.” She looked at Jackson. “And make sure that he does not eat another helping of steel.”

Jackson gave her a small grin and nod, but the twinkle in his eye told her that he thought she was hilarious. Z looked much more unimpressed.

“I’ll take good care’a him,” Jackson promised.

“I will hold you to that.”

When the men returned, it was with a skull in all four hands and minor cuts. Blue was pleased with this — it meant less work for her, though she supposed that, perhaps, it also meant she was less useful. What an odd conundrum she found herself in. Ultimately, she did not really mind patching up the minor injuries they had sustained — none of the ones of this batch required any actual patching, only a splashing of aloe jelly from the plant she had braved salvaging after spying it from the main-deck.

Afterwards, they lingered on the ship for no particular reason. Blue did not inquire, only mingled with them on the main-deck, taking in the sights of the Devil’s Roar from their position at Fletcher’s— Fetcher’s Rest. Then it occurred to her: if she was hungry, surely they were as well. Why no one spoke up…

“Shall I procure some devilfish?” she suggested. They hadn’t indicated it at all, but Blue personally was tired of splashtails. They were tasty enough, but even the tastiest dish became boring after some time. She couldn’t, however, have ever expected how much Jackson’s eyes lit up at that suggestion. There was an almost childlike energy to his expression.

“Really?” he asked.

“Of course,” she responded. “Devilfish do not fight that much harder than a splashtail.”

“Nonsense!” he said quickly, jogging over to the stairs. “I can help.”

Jackson disappeared downstairs after that to collect two fishing poles. Blue was momentarily dumbstruck and stared at where he had once stood before she looked at Z. She made a gesture to point at where their crewmate had once been, earning a defensive expression on Z’s face. He recoiled and his eyes darted around for a quick moment, as though trying to find an excuse or an explanation or… something.

Blue just stared harder at him.

“What?”

She let up, shrugging as well as she could. “Oh, nothing.”

His voice was high-pitched. “ Whaddya mean —”

Jackson returned and shot them both a curious look. Blue carried a small, pleasant smile as though nothing were amiss and simply took a pole from him and made her way to the bowsprit. He had followed her a moment later and they sat facing opposite sides before throwing their lines out. Z eventually joined them, sitting at the base with his legs crossed. Something about the way Jackson sat didn’t sit right with Blue until a little while later when he was flicking his line some.

“Jackson,” she said urgently. She was desperate to tell him to sit lower on his thighs before the gigantic devilfish took the hook, but the realisation had come too late for that.

Blue and Z were both gobsmacked by their crewmate being yanked into the water not even a moment later. They both stared at him when he resurfaced, shaking the water from his hair. He looked more surprised than they did when he turned to them.

Z broke out laughing first and Blue could not help joining.

*

Brian’s Bazaar was the last visit before… something. Blue wasn’t quite sure how one was supposed to know where to go to dig up a Chest of Legends and at this point, she was afraid to ask. Jackson and Z seemed so certain of things that she simply trusted that they knew what they were doing.

Both residents of the sea post were rather receptive to their presence. Being where they were, she supposed they didn’t get many visitors. That made her feel slightly bad about taking cargo that would never reach its destination, but unfortunate events did tend to happen in the Roar, she supposed. No, though she could detect something of a bad feeling in her gut, Blue found that she mostly didn’t care about their dumping of the cargo.

She wasn’t sure how to feel when she realised it.

When the last piece of cargo was being brought aboard the brigantine, Blue detected… something, that something had changed. She ducked down low and went to the captain’s table. The voyage had originally been comprised of eight quests, but when she looked, there was but one parchment on the table. It showed a large island with one dig on it, rather than a small island she had expected.

She flinched, startled by Z’s seemingly sudden presence beside her. He gave her a curious look and she simply shook her head.

“What island is this?” she inquired.

“Looks like Flintlock,” he said, leaning on the table beside her.

“I thought the final dig was supposed to be a small island?”

“Eh, it us’ally is, but not always,” he said.

Blue hummed thoughtfully and decided that was satisfactory, even if backtracking was a little annoying.

*

Flintlock Peninsula was a nice enough island, as far as those in the Devil’s Roar went, Blue supposed. She was frustrated at being stuck on the ship, but she had no good excuse to leave it. Jackson and Z had left to go dig up their prize — she had watched them go over the hill nearby and disappear — and should the island’s volcano decide to erupt, it was her duty to take the ship away to safety.

With the Chest of Legends between them, they carried it with a single hand each and walked together over the hill. When Blue spotted them, she took that as her sign to descend from the crow’s nest. They were just coming back aboard the brigantine when she hopped from its tiny gunwale to the rowboat to the shallow water.

“I am going for a walk,” she declared, ignoring their noises of curiosity. “Leave if you want, I am sure I could find a mer.”

As she stepped further inland, Blue was vaguely aware of the others’ view on her back until she disappeared over the hill. They were free to do or think whatever they wanted as far as she was concerned — she just wanted off the blasted ship.

Flintlock Peninsula was made up of two chunks of island, almost three, with plenty of water in the middle of it all. The northern to southeastern side of the island was barely connected, but connected it was. There were rocks making up dotted lines that connected it to the other half of the island. That itself wasn’t strange, but the dock in the middle of the island… that was weird. Blue supposed a rowboat could make use of it, but why anyone had constructed the jetty at all was bewildering to her. She gave it little more thought and trudged through the water past it, heading up this side’s even steeper hill.

When Blue had managed to get as far up as she could, she had expected a tunnel that burrowed through the rock and dirt — there was a lot of that in the Roar. What she found instead seemed to be a cave with a kraken skeleton in it. The skeleton was far too large to have fit through the opening in life, so how it got in there was beyond her.

She stepped forward, down the slope and across the stones that were just taller than the puddling of water. The skull of the beast was mounted and hung over its jaw, all of which came together to… indicate a door? But for as much as it seemed there should be a threshold before her, Blue could not find a button or lever or anything in which to open the door that apparently did not exist.

She startled as she backed up into Z while trying to look over the area again.

“How did you—”

“Call it a hunch,” he said quickly, taking a step away. He looked over the area with her.

“This room makes no sense,” Blue blurted out with more agitation than she realised she had been feeling. “This, for all intents and purposes, looks like a passageway!” She gestured to the arrangement of the kraken’s head. “There is nothing to open a door to go further, though.”

Z halfway crossed his arms, resting one on the other and bringing a hand up to his chin. He looked about again before shrugging. “I don’t think y’re wrong, but I don’t see anythin’ you don’t.”

“The Ancients make no sense to me,” she said, stepping back up to the great maw. She touched at the rock surface before shaking her head.

“Maybe it’s not a door,” he said with another shrug.

Blue gave him an unimpressed look. “Then what do you suggest this is all for?” she asked, gesturing to the remains.

“I dunno, decoration?”

“You are telling me that the Ancients decorated this room with the remains of a kraken for no reason? And that they left the end of the passage clear for no reason?”

Z shrugged wide.

Blue growled at nothing in particular before kicking a candle that was on the ground into the water. He looked at her, she saw this, but said nothing as she stepped past him. She heard him follow and he remained silent even as he caught up and strode beside her all the way back to the brigantine.

The Devil’s Roar, Blue decided, was a very silly place.

Notes:

👻

Chapter 42: A Sliver of an Idea

Summary:

Things are much too quiet and Blue’s mind wanders.

It was easy to see that they were going easy on her; anyone could tell. Z and Jackson did not strike at her with the same vigour as they did each other. She resented that. Blue had never been one to appreciate being treated as some dainty little thing that required extra care or tending to, injury or not.

The irritation she felt started at a low simmer and quickly began to boil. Letting her emotions get out of hand would do her no good, though. For as much as Blue had been able to once allow for that, allow those feelings to fuel her strength, it was no longer an option. Letting herself go was much more a liability than an aid nowadays, even if this was simply a free-for-all sparring match.

That did not stop her from disarming Jackson a moment later. Neither of their sticks was the straightest or smoothest and she had managed to hook hers against his, wrenching it from his grasp. He stood there looking dumbstruck for a moment.

“Ah. Well, I guess I’m out,” he said simply.

This wasn’t a surprise to anyone. Blue had noticed that when wandering the ship, Jackson seemed to prefer to carry guns rather than a blade of any kind. He knew his way around a sword, but he was not so familiar with it that it was like an extension of his arm.

Z was a wild card when it came to how he fought. Blue had seen him fight plenty of skeletons with a sword, but when on the brigantine, she noticed that he carried the same weapon set up as Jackson did, preferring a pair of guns. Z, she decided, must have been well-practised in many of the arts of killing.

This thought seemed even more accurate when he landed a strike on her left arm. Jackson had struggled with the awkwardness of having to fight a left-handed fighter; Z didn’t miss a beat, and now his attention was fully on her. This, in its own way, was frustrating, but at least he didn’t go easy on her. She stepped to the right, putting her weapon between them and lashed out.

It was no surprise to her that Z was not surprised when she brought a leg behind him to sweep him off his feet — he had seen her do this many times now. What was a surprise was his reaction. Considering that he knew best how terrible her shoulder’s condition was, she never would have expected him to reach out and grab her by that arm. It was brief, but the sudden piercing pain distracted her from all else and when she was back in reality, they were both on the ground, she having been dragged down on top of him.

There was some sort of stupid, smug look on Z’s face and she barely recalled even thinking about striking him across the face before she did it. The yelp he let out sounded like a mixture of pain and shock, and frankly, she thought he was well deserving of it.

She said nothing of what had just happened, simply got to her feet and made her way to the top of Devil’s Ridge, leaving the men down at the pond.

*

“I thought ya might be hungry,” he said once stood beside her. Jackson offered her a plate with a large fish filet on it.

Blue had spotted him in the bay on the brigantine with a fishing pole, but she hadn’t really thought he would be catching anything to eat for anyone but himself. She certainly hadn’t expected him to bring her anything. That, she realised, was something she could expect out of Z; it seemed that Jackson was better at socialising. Why it was he who was up on the mountain with her and not Z, she wasn’t sure.

Caught off guard, she stared at him for a moment before accepting the plate from him with a polite nod. A moment later he sat down beside her on the rock, a comfortable distance between them. Now she was certain that he had more reason to be up there than to simply give her something to eat.

It was almost an uncomfortably long time later when she had been finished eating for some time then, that Jackson finally shifted some and looked at her, asking, “Hey, uh, are you all right?”

The way he spoke made her think that he meant something other than how the sparring match had ended earlier. “I am uninjured, if that is what you meant,” she said, unwilling to take the bait.

“Oh. That’s good.” That was definitely not what he meant. Jackson didn’t look like he knew what he wanted to ask, but then he asked, “Uhh, so, what I mean’s is: did… has… has he done somethin’ to ya?”

She wasn’t quite sure what that was supposed to mean and was so confused she had to ask; “What do you mean?”

“I mean, ya kinda hit him really hard and Z’s been tellin’ me how unviolent you are and he talks like you guys are friends but—”

“He is a daft knobhead,” she said.

“Yeah!” Jackson said with far more gusto than she ever would have expected. “Yea, he’s pretty daft, but he means well. He only fights for real like that when he likes somebody.”

Blue scowled at him. Jackson definitely noticed her mood souring. “I mean— not like that. He’s done it t’ all’a us! Z—” He stopped himself and visibly considered what he wanted to say before continuing: “He’s kinda like me. He’s not so good at talkin’ about his feelings so he shows it in other ways. Y’ know, he almost begged me to let you guys crew up with me—”

“Did he now?”

Jackson nodded. “Well, kind of. We got t’ talkin’ at a point after we had supper and he kept givin’ me reasons why it was a good idea t’ crew up. Kept givin’ me the run-around about what we were doin’ ‘til he explained that you got hurt real bad.” When she said nothing, he added: “It’s about the closest he’s ever been t’ that. Normally he’s the one tellin’ us what t’ do.”

“He does like to carry that authority,” she commented. She thought for a moment. “I suppose it does make sense that he would be that way around me.”

“Yeah,” Jackson chimed in; “what with you bein’ so new t’ here.”

She scowled slightly at those words; that was not entirely accurate, but correcting him wasn’t very necessary. He noticed her expression before she could do anything about it.

“I mean, he’s done that to us, too.”

Blue gave him a look. “Has he now?”

He nodded. “Yea, Z’s got this, like… well, I guess it’s like you said: he’s got an authority.”

“Arrogance is more like it,” she said.

Jackson considered that for a moment before nodding again. “You ain’t wrong. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s the best fighter and thinker in the crew.”

Jackson was… somewhat simple. Blue found that she appreciated that about him. He said what he meant without trying to make himself sound more sophisticated than he was, or better overall. Z, she decided, was indeed very arrogant. He was also far smarter than his words usually indicated, and that made him dangerous to those he didn’t like.

“I suppose you have a point.” She stared at him for a moment before clearing her throat. “But, ah, why did you come up here again?”

“Oh! Uh, well, it just… it just seemed t’ me that there might’ve been more going on there than jus’ him pullin’ yer arm.”

“Ah.” That seemed fair. Blue considered his concern. “He is a daft knobhead,” she then repeated. Jackson couldn’t help grinning at her words that time. She added: “I expected better of him, I suppose.”

“Oh. Like… t’ not do that sort’a thing?”

She nodded. “Essentially. He should know better.”

“Ah.” Jackson nodded in agreement. “It’s just like ya said.” He paused and looked like he was thinking very hard about whether or not he wanted to speak, but he asked, “So you two get on good then?”

“We get on just fine,” Blue stated plainly. She still got the feeling that Jackson wasn’t being entirely straight with her, but perhaps that had more to do with his awkwardness or poor vocabulary than anything else.

“That’s good,” he said. “Z needs somebody to sail with when we’re all with our families.”

She looked at him. Right — they had families, and Z… didn’t? She knew why she didn’t bring her own up, but that made her realise that Z had never said anything about his, and he had commented that it was ‘not for me’ when his friends spoke of their wives. To be entirely without family…

“That… I suppose that is not a bad thing at all.”

*

They hadn’t spoken that night, but in the morning while she was fishing, when Blue had thought her crewmates both asleep still, Z came up beside her at the brig’s stern. Judging by the light bruising of his cheek, she probably could have hit him more softly. He still would have deserved it.

A fish took the hook when she looked at him and now it was too late to see exactly what it was until she landed it.

Z leaned against the railing while she fought with the fish. She appreciated that — this fish required her focus, though it threatened to make the uncomfortable feeling of pressure she felt in her shoulder intensify into pain. When she got it much closer to the ship, she thought she saw that it was just a little thing, but that seemed ridiculous for how hard it had fought. When she hoisted it over the railing, though, she saw that she had been correct. The sapphire ancientscale she landed was barely large enough to get the hook in its mouth; that had not stopped it from thoroughly chewing up the leech.

How such a little thing had put up such a big fight…

Blue blinked and side-eyed Z when he started laughing. Her face must have said it all and then she felt her expression shift into one of great annoyance. He only stifled his laughter enough to grab the line from her and remove the tiny thing from the hook, throwing it off the side of the ship. Blue scoffed and he started laughing again.

“What?” she asked.

He raised his hands up to indicate the size of the little fish. “I mean, that thing?” He chuckled and shook his head. When she refused to be amused, he laughed harder and shook his head. “Well, anyway…”

He spoke as though he had something to say and he certainly did or else he wouldn’t be at her side. Probably. Blue looked him up and down. She inquired again, “ What ?” to hopefully get him talking.

“Ah, well—” He scratched at the side of his neck and stared at her, clearly somewhat stupefied. Curious as Blue was, she was beginning to grow impatient and he seemed to pick up on that. “Well, it— I—” He made a face and looked at her, clearly stupefied. Finally, he tentatively asked, “Are you all right?”

She reflectively rubbed at her shoulder. She figured that Jackson had insisted they speak and she wasn’t quite sure what she thought of it now. “I am fine.” Whether or not it was out of his own consideration that he asked, that he asked at all surprised her to some low degree. That was slightly touching. He shifted as though to speak and she raised her hand. “If you insist on apologising, don’t. I don’t need it.”

He didn’t look like he agreed. In fact, he looked rather annoyed. “Well, fine then.”

Definitely annoyed. Blue considered this for a long moment before turning on her heels to face him. “What is it that you want?”

Perhaps getting straight to the point had not been the best idea. Most people thought that was rather rude; she understood this, she just didn’t care enough to beat around the bush sometimes. Rather than further annoy him, however, Z looked somewhat relieved.

“I was goin’ t’ apologise but—” He looked at her and shrugged before leaning on the railing. Blue did the same — she was out of leeches anyway — and a long moment passed before he spoke again. “I jus’… thought yer arm was doin’ better’s all, I guess.”

“I do believe I said something about it not getting better quite a while ago at this point,” she said with the slightest touch of amusement. “I am only being truthful,” she added when she noticed that he didn’t seem to think it funny.

“Scars happen, but unless y’ lose the limb, everything usually heals up out here.”

There was a deep annoyance upon his countenance that Blue couldn’t quite place the origin of, dumbstruck by his words. The urge to bring a hand up to her shoulder momentarily festered in her gut. Apparently Z had the same feeling and was not as successful in shooing it away — she flinched slightly at his hand on her shoulder, but his touch was gentle, even when his fingers dug at the crevices that sword had left behind. She should have struck him again but refrained and wondered why that was when his hand slipped away.

“But I guess that’s what happened.” He wasn’t wrong.

“I suppose so,” she said as she finally leaned on the railing beside him.

Another long moment of silence passed before Z said, “Y’re not gettin’ better, are you?”

She looked at him and considered the question. “No, I am, only… very slowly. The constant pain is no longer so terrible as it is draining, but it is still present and easy to aggravate.” He stared at her with that slight scowl before looking away. That hadn’t seemed to lift his spirits at all. “I am afraid we will be on this brig for quite some time,” she said. Clearing her throat, she added, a little quieter, “Sorry.”

Z stood upright after that, recoiling before giving her an incredulous look. “Sorry? Wh— What do you have t’ be sorry for?”

She wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that; what shouldn’t she be apologising for?

“Y’ killed one’a the most dangerous Skeleton Lords in the whole Sea and y’re sayin’ sorry ? Fer what?!”

She blinked. “… Not without essentially killing myself, mind you. Now we are stuck on this brigantine because I am incapable of defending myself properly, because I am a liability. That Jackson agreed to take me aboard alongside you seems more polite than anything else and—”

She startled when Z slammed his hands against the railing and abruptly turned to her. “Stop talkin’ like that. Just ‘cause y’ can’t fight like y’ used t’ doesn’t mean y’re useless. Y’ can still fight, just not in the same ways, and y’re workin’ on that and anyway, y’ still take care’a us.”

It wasn’t a lot that he said, but it was enough to stupefy Blue. She had certainly been trying to be useful, but she hadn’t believed that she was doing anything particularly noteworthy. Jackson was kind and simple enough that Blue didn’t doubt for a moment that he may truly appreciate her presence, but Z was different. She knew very well that he was a cutthroat who wasn’t one for pleasantries unless they were thrust upon him and neither was he one for words. She was briefly reminded of how delighted he had been to introduce her to the concept of the Ferry of the Damned , how he had done that, his almost confrontational reaction to not even being asked why he didn’t have a closer partner…

… and now that his arms were around her, Blue decided she didn’t know him nearly as well as she thought she did.

She shifted slightly on her feet, uncertain of what to do in the situation she found herself in. She was only slightly taller than his shoulders, which she stared past before sighing in defeat and leaning her forehead against.

And to think, things had been going so well up until the Winter’s End showed up.

She shifted again, uncomfortable, and Z seemed to get the hint. He stepped back but brought his hands to her upper arms, squeezing gently. She avoided his eyes. “Am I heard?”

Right, he had said a bunch of things. She didn’t agree, but it seemed he and Jackson believed those things. Somehow, apologising again seemed both like the most appropriate and inappropriate thing to do.

“Understood.”

It took a moment before he nodded and let go of her. “Good.” Blue was impressed to see him take hold of the fishing pole that she had dropped against the railing some moments ago. “Let’s get some breakfast then.”

If she hadn’t just taken note of his temperature, Blue would have thought him sick for fishing for himself. How strange this whole situation was.

*

The incidents at Devil’s Ridge easily faded to the back of their minds with time. When they left, a sloop had been spotted in the distance before them. Blue knew her crewmates’ initial intent for it, something she dreaded, but the conversation of what to do about it never came up. It didn’t need to, either, for the sloop had stopped at Plunder Outpost for a time and then departed before their arrival. As a duo with a love for the treasure of others, that left them with very little reason to bother the sloop other than the thrill of a fight. Blue couldn’t say she agreed with that, and her current state must have been why they didn’t push the matter.

Try as she might, Blue couldn’t shake that feeling of uselessness, of knowing that things weren’t as they normally would have been because of her.

The night was spent moored at the outpost. When morning came, they went north — perhaps the sloop would show them the way forward, but they never saw it again and thus couldn’t shadow it in hopes of finding anything to do. Eventually, the most interesting thing they found was the Glorious Sea Dog Tavern built upon the giant rock formation. Jackson was quite enthused by the stories of their visits prior, but the last one was most interesting of all to him.

“A fair competition of battle?” he repeated.

Blue nodded her head as she sat on the brig’s gunwale, between the cannons and the ropes that controlled the fore-sail. “That is what the lady Amaranta said, as instructed to by the twin leaders. It is some sort of fair battle. It is no duel, however — there are up to five crews all battling one another at a time, so I am uncertain just how fair it truly could be.”

She heard Z chuckle from over at the main-mast’s controls. When she and Jackson looked at him, he chuckled some more and said, “Never been part of a big battle, eh?”

She looked at him so sternly and for so long that he recoiled and clearly regretted his behaviour. She was glad for that — Blue didn’t feel like telling any stories. He crossed his arms and looked away, leaning back on the stern’s railing. She turned her attention back to Jackson.

“The point still remains — I see no way for such a battle to be fair.” She looked up at the sky for a moment. “She mentioned that there was no curseshot allowed, no gunpowder kegs available…” She shrugged. “It seems that is all they care about for fair .”

“What do you think’s a fair fight?” Jackson asked.

“A simple one-on-one in which both participants have the same resources available to them. That is all,” she said. He hummed thoughtfully and Z looked indifferent, bored even. Blue looked them over real quick before deciding to speak again. “But yes, I assumed you might find some interest in it. Things have been… quiet, lately.”

“Ah, yeah, I guess,” Jackson said with some amount of uncertainty. “I like a good fight ‘nd all, but tucking away on a ship’s where it’s at for me.”

Blue wasn’t sure what to make of the statement; Z chuckled in such a way as to sound as though he agreed.

“I suppose there is a certain allure to… finessing a steal versus outright violence,” she admitted, her mind wandering back to her and Z’s stealthy plundering of the Merchant Alliance fleet.

Jackson pointed at her and quickly said, “Yea!”

Z wrinkled his nose. “Well, t’ me is sounds like y’ wanna give this Arena a shot.”

Blue shrugged, at least as much as her shoulder allowed. She paused for a moment before stating, “It is an interesting idea. What interests me is all the other sailors there might be to try my luck at fighting.”

He looked at her for a moment before understanding washed over his face. “Y’ mean the fightin’ on the islands and decks’a the ships…”

“Precisely.” She paused, thinking. “Though, I suppose it really does not matter the environment in which I fight someone.”

Jackson titled his head. “Why’s that?”

“Well, with the Ferry of the Damned , why should you not want to kill anyone that rivals you to any level? Lives are rather cheap here.”

It took Jackson a moment to understand her while Z just looked slightly unsettled.

“I think we should do it!” Jackson said suddenly. Blue and Z both looked at him with curiosity. “Join this Arena, I mean. I think it’d be fun. We’d get paid t’ fight other people, and they give us the ships to use, right? So… why not?”

Blue stared at him for a moment before she looked to Z. “Well… I can think of no reason not to.”

“I can think’a one,” Z said.

“That being?”

“We’re lackin’ a crewmate.” Blue looked away and hummed thoughtfully before he continued: “Three-man gallies don’t fare too well in fights.”

“That is a good point…”

“We could try pickin’ somebody up,” Jackson suggested. “They give us the ships t’ use, so we wouldn’t be risking our own or anything.”

Z made a face. “Yeah, but then we gotta deal with a random—”

“I agree,” Blue interrupted. “I do not doubt our ability to find someone to take our fourth place, but I must admit, I am not keen on it.” She looked over at a far dock, a plain sloop along it. She didn’t voice that thought before looking back to the men. “It is only a thought I had, of course, finding others to practise my new sword-arm on. I am sure other opportunities will present themselves.”

Neither of them looked like they liked this situation, but neither did they argue it. Jackson kicked at the deck and nodded.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Worry not,” she said with a smirk; “If our search for a fight becomes too dry, we could always stop at an outpost to pick up a Bounty order.”

Jackson laughed; Z just shook his head, but he did hang his head for a moment before looking back up to her like he had realised something.

“Is that yer way’a sayin’ y’re not gonna fight us about fightin’ people anymore?”

The topic hadn’t come up so blatantly with Jackson, but judging by his expression, he understood what was being asked and was also curious.

“It has proven very profitable,” she admitted. “Very profitable, and while this Arena may attract those who are interested in fighting for the sake of fighting… I find that people fight best when they have a good reason to.” Blue took a look at her left hand, considering her few practise sessions with it.

“I think… I think the same may also be true to me, and you two as well. Perhaps we all need a good reason to fight.”

It was slight, but there was… something … in Z’s face. Jackson simply looked enthused by her words and she had to force herself to look at him so as to not be rude.

“That’s a great idea!” he said. “You’ll be a top-notch fighter with that arm in no time if that’s what we’re gonna do.”

Blue allowed herself a polite but genuine smile at those words. By the time she was able to look back at Z, whatever fire had burned in his eyes was gone, replaced only by a raised brow and the small, amused smile, just as she had expected.

She couldn’t quite shake the chill that went down her spine.

Notes:

Some of you will know this already, but I’ve been rereading the last few chapters that I completed to catch myself back up on what precisely I’ve worked on as I fell off my horse with moving across the country, being busy with the family, and also spending so much time being so sick. I’m working on getting that done so I can get back to working on this in earnest but that’s the thing — I had a lot pre-written. Back when I started posting, I had a lot pre-written and then I wrote a lot more while posting throughout 2024.

Since last September I’ve written very little. I’ve been struggling on a chapter that I looked forward to writing for years.

So what this all means is that we’re approaching a point where the regular bi-monthly updates will cease. I’ll still update on Fridays when I have chapters ready, but that will almost certainly no longer be every other week. I had hoped to keep it to every 1 to 3 weeks, but I don’t know if that will be the case. We still have another two months of regular updates but I thought a head’s up on this might be appreciated for the regular readers (I see your hit counts on update days c:<) who I know exist but might not be following the Tumblr blog.

If you are interested in the Tumblr blog, here’s a link to my rambling tag specifically. I talk quite a bit about what I’m working on regarding this series and anything I think pertinent to it and writing in general. There’s little to no politics or real world stuff there; it’s a lot of creative writing stuff, some Sea of Thieves stuff, some art, and a bit of this or that from whatever I’ve put into the once-daily queue. Come say hi! :)

Chapter 43: Fort of the Damned

Summary:

Life has its ups and downs and plenty of questions in between.

Notes:

If you’ve been following this story for a while, this might be a bit late, but there are links to image galleries that detail each ship’s layouts on the prologue’s first set of notes due to the standardisation of ships on the Sea of Thieves. While the way this story was written makes it fairly welcoming to those aren’t necessarily super familiar with the game’s ships, this was one thing that was somewhat assumed to be known to most readers. It just wasn’t quite as endearing to go through than, say, a teamkill.

Oh well — better late than never, I suppose?

Having turned in early, it was no surprise that Blue rose early. It was far too early to get out of bed in her humble opinion, but she couldn’t find a way to lie that was comfortable. The average pirate, she would say, would be a man who was taller and wider and heavier than her. Such a pirate had used the bed before her and had left something of an indent in the mattress, one that she could fit in with space to spare. That was fine — preferable, even — so she supposed that it simply not being her bed aboard the Forlorn Phoenix was what made it uncomfortable. That, and it was supposed to be Jackson’s by his right as the one who obtained the brigantine. It all rubbed her the wrong way.

Blue was on her feet and on the main-deck. Wandering around in the dark was not a new experience to her, but nowadays something was usually wrong if she was doing that. For now, it seemed all was fine and so she stood at the railing at the back of the brig and simply looked out into the darkness.

It took a very long time for her to notice the red in the sky.

The weather in this world liked to announce current on-goings in it. She had noticed this before, a cloud that carried a scary likeness to that of a ship or a skull, but she knew she had never seen such a distinctly dark skull-shaped cloud. And while the eyes of a cloud might flash different colours, not unlike lightning in a storm, albeit more colourful, she had never seen one of blood red.

Her gut knew there was something wrong with what she saw.

All the way at the ship’s bow was Z. He was sleeping with his back against the raised base of the bowsprit. He and Jackson had certainly been up later than she had; she could smell the drink on him, too. No, he had not been asleep for very long. She was too inquisitive about what she saw to ignore it, though, so she gently nudged his leg with her foot. He shifted slightly to one side but otherwise did not respond. She got no reaction upon a second nudging.

No, it seemed it would have to wait.

 

*

 

Blue really should not have gone back to bed. It was rather late into the morning when she was back on the main-deck and nothing seemed to be happening. She hesitated for a time before inquiring about the peculiar clouds.

“How long has that been up?!”

Blue had thought that Z would have an explanation for what she had seen. Instead, she was met by his own confusion; Jackson’s, too. Z’s response had been laced with anger and she thought a fear of the unknown was what garnered that reaction from him, but…

“Who knows what might be there t’ take!”

No, it was a lust for treasure that spurred his volatility. Blue supposed that wasn’t a bad thing. Indeed, upon second thought, she supposed he had a point. She had been curious only for the sake of being so; of course, there was indeed a potential for rare, valuable treasure to be there, and that did not hurt.

Jackson seemed to be of both opinions and was an easy mediator. “Why don’t we get movin’ and eat on the way? It doesn’t look that far.”

“It looks like it’s over Old Boot,” Z muttered, a hand on his chin. Then he nodded and looked between Blue and Jackson. “That’s a good idea. Let’s get goin’.”

There was plenty of fruit in the barrel to pick from, but another moment’s consideration and Blue decided that, difficult as it was to do while the ship was moving, fish would serve them better. A normal active skeleton fortress was a dangerous place to be heading to; who knew what they were getting themselves into now? They should do all that they could to be prepared.

She was glad when a large splashtail quickly took to the hook. She was less glad for the added tension in the line.

Said fish was thrown into the pan at the soonest moment after landing it and split into three roughly equal parts. Both men plucked the crispy fins from their parts to give to Blue, something she greatly appreciated, something she found to calm the nerves she had not realised were so agitated.

Once before, Blue had teased Z about not knowing everything about something that they came upon. These had been new encounters for both of them; it seemed this was yet another one to add to the list. She briefly wondered how it was that either of them could meet such unknown danger with eagerness. The existence of the Ferry of the Damned helped, she supposed, but dying and coming back to life was not such a pleasant thing. Still, one could not deny that the opportunity to try again was invaluable.

A moment later and Blue realised what had crossed her mind and she was astonished that she had thought of it without any prompting from someone else. How bizarre.

Another moment later and Blue realised that sign of skeletal activity had disappeared. That must have been what spurred her crewmates’ excitement. They were just rounding the eastern side of Snake Island when a sloop was spotted off to their starboard side.

“Fuck that sloop, they aren’t pointed at us,” Z said. No, he was far more interested in Old Boot Fort, and that sloop wasn’t posturing at them whatsoever.

More interesting than the little ship was the island before them. Old Boot had been a small, vertical island with nothing especially out of the ordinary about it other than being a skeletal stronghold. Now it was shrouded by swirling fog that none of their eyes could see through.

“That’s new,” Jackson had mumbled from the helm.

“It’s a galleon,” came Z’s sharp tone from the bowsprit. When she and Jackson curiously regarded each other before turning their attention to Z, he explained, “In the fog. I see a gally comin’ out. Keep turnin’ us so we’re in front’a them.”

Jackson gave a response as he did as told. A moment later he hollered, “Turn the sails straight left.”

Blue said nothing as she turned the main-sail to the side for him. The wind blew from a harsh angle. Such harshness had made their travel very slow and the sun was beginning to set. It seemed some sort of nightfallen confrontation was avoidable.

“Is that a fuckin’ skelly gally, too?” Z suddenly shot.

Blue lowered her gaze from the sails back to the fog. Emerging from it was a galleon, clear as day to her eyes. Beside the large ship was another of similar likeness, its silhouette only just visible.

Jackson responded, “Yeah, skelly gally’s—” Blue wasn’t sure what the last word was, muttered as his voice faded away. Then: “… oh no, no…”

No, that didn’t look right to Blue. Skeleton ships always looked like they had been through hell and then recobbled together with bits and pieces of scrap, especially the sails, and they were decorated with blue and green lights. This one’s sails were, relative to what she had spied on skeleton ships from afar, only slightly torn apart and its lanterns were doused.

“Oh no.” Despite the words, Z laughed. “We’re goin’ down in flames — that’s alliance galleons!”

That looked right. Bright blue and white pennant flags were atop all six masts of the two encroaching ships, signalling the unification of their forces. The wind was behind the galleons, giving them great speed despite their poor sail configurations. With the brigantine turning the way it was…

“Oh, we’re goin’ right between ‘em,” came from Jackson.

Blue didn’t need to be told — immediately she was on the closest cannon. There was no time to inflict proper damage to the galleon with the torn sails, but there was time for a shot or two on its cannon-line to dissuade its crewmen from firing on them. She took those shots and was only just aware of a cannonball from Z’s cannon crashing into its deck, too.

There was a horrible noise of wood cracking and the brigantine shook something fierce. A glance towards the bow answered her question: they had rammed into the first galleon’s side. So quickly was Z climbing up its side and one of the galleon’s crewmen leaping onto their brigantine that Blue barely registered it all. Jackson calling out the boarder snapped her out of her confusion and then he was dashing past her, pushing her aside as he did. He was too late to defend their capstan, however, but so too did the galleon crew fail to defend theirs, both ships coming to a screeching halt as the anchors fell, the ships groaning and further scraping against each other.

Jackson climbed up the galleon after killing the crewman that had come to their ship and Blue wondered what her role in all of the chaos ought to be. They had been moving very fast and cannonballs had been exchanged on both sides — were either ships salvageable? Was it worth checking? A moment’s pause to listen revealed the sound of both ships groaning heavily as they filled with water. With her arm the way it was, Blue wasn’t of much use lifting and throwing water around, not that much water, nor was she very good at fighting, but she supposed this was a good time to practise. Or to shoot someone with her musket should that fail.

The decision was made to leap onto the galleon’s ladder and haul herself up onto its deck. There was a man before her, just outside the cabin door. His gaze was to her left, however, and he stammered in alarm as Z barrelled into him and they both crashed into the cabin proper. A cursory glance at the deck revealed two bodies by the capstan where Jackson was getting back onto his feet, blood running down the side of his head. It seemed the galleon’s crew had been slain.

“Holy shit, I got a Chest’a Legends in here!” Z hollered from the captain’s cabin.

She and Jackson turned sharply and joined him. Inside was a plethora of grand treasures, treasures that Blue realised she had only seen once before after they had cleared Hidden Spring Keep of its skeletal inhabitants. There were a number of mermaid gems, too, a precious treasure that all of the Companies vied for.

“C’mon, they got a rowboat. Let’s go!” Z said as he went through the second door onto the galleon’s balcony. The listing and sinking of the ship had brought the water level to just below the floor they were on.

Jackson and Z were on the rowboat before her. The ropes that secured it to the balcony railing were proving problematic for them in their haste. She joined them on the rowboat proper before pulling her dagger out and freeing them from the sinking ship and shoving off.

Blue was sat on the bottom of the rowboat in the middle of it, facing its side, not completely sure of what to make of the situation. Jackson was rowing them into the night. It was seconds or hours after the galleon had sunk, she did not know which, when Z suddenly laughed. Jackson joined him and Blue couldn’t help an exasperated smile.

“That was… exciting,” she declared.

“Excitin’?!” Jackson shouted in disbelief. Z laughed harder. “I ain’t ever been in anythin’ like that before!”

“And who’d’a guessed they had this?” Z said, holding the chest up in his hands, beaming. He sat it back down and leaned on it. “You jus’ helped us steal a Chest’a Legends from a galleon!”

Blue rose a brow as she looked from him to it and back. So she had, she supposed. It didn’t feel like she had made that much of an impact on the encounter. Jackson laughed again before she could speak and she let the matter rest.

“Hey, uh.” Jackson cleared his throat. “Which way’s the nearest outpost?”

“South t’ Plunder,” Z said.

Blue grunted before rising up as high as she could from her sitting position, scanning the horizon. “Where did the other galleon go? They were both heading that way…”

“I have no idea,” Z said, “but they ain’t at Plunder and that’s good enough fer me.”

“That is very far for us now.”

“Do ya want t’ stop now and rest?” Jackson said with an edge of rhetoric.

There was no way she could sleep after that. In fact, now that she thought about it, it was gripping the edge of the rowboat that kept her hands from shaking. Between the excitement of the fight and of such a lucrative steal, she couldn’t blame them for wanting to make it to an outpost.

“No. But it will be a very long way to the outpost.”

“We’re gonna need t’ take turns,” Z reluctantly said.

“Yea, we are,” Jackson said.

Blue nodded in agreement and then she was climbing into the middle seat to get properly situated. When the time came, she could at least try rowing before declaring herself unable. In the meantime, she got as comfortable as she could on a little rowboat with the men and the plunder that she wasn’t sure she was deserving of a share of.

 

*

 

Blue was exhausted. Z and Jackson were exhausted, too. All that work for the payment of one item was… of a debatable nature, she thought. There were things she had been paid for that required hard work from her — horrible work in fact — but this didn’t feel like it compared somehow. She was sore all over and her arm hurt horribly, so much so that she knew she couldn’t sleep even if she tried. Her saviour came in the form of a logbook she had stuffed into her jacket out of habit during their final trip on that brigantine.

And perhaps also Z. After they had exchanged the chest for gold pouches, the three of them had sat at a table and got drinks and food. They had been ravenous; the drink sated their thirst and dulled the soreness that emanated throughout their weary bodies. Blue, admittedly, had not had very much to drink out of habit, but when Z had invited himself into her rented room with a tankard in each hand, she had been very glad to see him.

“Are you going to drink that?”

Sat on the bed with his back against the wall, his foot hanging off the edge, he lifted his head to look at her. He’d been holding his tankard with both hands, sipping at it less and less. He looked between her and it before leaning over to hand it over. Blue was glad to not have to go back downstairs.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen y’ drink that much,” he commented.

Blue simply gave him a noncommittal grunt in response, burying herself in her book. There was so much on her mind — yet another reason she could not sleep just yet.

“Say, where is Jackson?” she inquired before Z could pester her otherwise.

“Eh, I dunno. I think he got himself a room.”

“Ah.” She wrote a few words slowly before a question popped into her head. Why not get a room of your own? She could voice it, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to have that conversation in either direction it could have gone. It could be that he simply didn’t want to spend the gold on a room, too, she supposed.

With a great sigh, Blue sat more upright. She finished what remained in her third tankard of grog for the night — and she was feeling very pleasantly fuzzy — and forced herself to disregard the idea that she might appreciate his company and instead focused on how Z’s presence would allow her to sleep comfortably. She blew out the only light source in the room, a candle on the table, and pushed the chair away from it.

“Fin’ly ready t’ sleep?”

She didn’t trust her tongue to not get tied up and only gave him another vague grunt before they got settled in bed with her curled up against his side.

 

*

 

There hadn’t been very much chatter when they had arrived at the outpost. They sold the chest, ate, and slept. They had all slept for quite a time, in fact. Blue thought that somewhat funny as they sat on the beach of Plunder Outpost in the fading sunlight.

“So what is the plan now?” she inquired from across the Gold Hoarders’ tent, beside the campfire that was lit, a large splashtail frying in the pan above it.

“Well, we have a rowboat,” Z started thoughtfully.

She made a loud noise of disapproval. “No. I am still sore from what little I rowed us.”

He held his hands up in surrender. Jackson made an amused face and said, “I think me an’ Z could row from island t’ island without much problem.”

Blue sighed. “There is still the matter of us being on a rowboat,” she said, emphasising each word a little more than the last.

“Yea, so?” Z said with a stupid grin. “It’s better than swimmin’.”

She sighed in defeat. “I suppose you are right about that.” A ship would be better, though. Blue absentmindedly flipped the fish in the pan before blurting out, “It would be nice if a ship would pass by.”

Z laughed. “Yea, it would be.”

“Uh, guys?” They both looked to Jackson, who sounded rather worried and was lifting his hand to point out to the sea. “There is a ship.”

That was quite possibly very convenient for them, though the problem was that the campfire gave off quite a lot of smoke. There was also nothing at all between them and the water’s edge — the approaching sloop most certainly saw them. If its crew did not spy them sitting in the sand, they certainly saw the group once Jackson and Z were on their feet.

“Well, now I’m curious,” Z said.

The sloop, which had no discernible colours or designs of note on any part of it, made no move to slow down as it approached the island and sailed to the other side of it. All three of them offered a wave of some sort to its helmsman. From the distance, Blue couldn’t be sure, but he looked absolutely bewildered. She supposed that were she in his position, she would be, too. The sight of three people and no ship would be strange to anyone, lightly put.

To their great surprise, the sloop came back around the outpost and stopped at the main dock. Blue decided she was far too sober for this. The men simply looked at each other in excitement before taking off in the direction of the sloop. She followed a moment later, taking her time as she was decidedly not interested in the potential murder of a lone sailor.

Blue was astonished to spot the three of them having a conversation.

“So how long y’ been here?” Z asked.

The man, who was very plainly dressed, small in all directions, and holding a single unremarkable skull in his hand stammered thoughtfully. “W-Well, I came here once be-before. An… And then I left for a while before comin’ back. All my friends w-wanted t’ see the Sea’a Thieves, y’ know?”

Z made a thoughtful noise. Jackson asked, “Where are they now?”

She joined them in proper now, standing between Jackson and Z. Had she been in high-heeled shoes, she could have stood taller than the newcomer.

“There was n-no room for me on the galleon.”

“That’s a shame,” Z said.

Jackson asked, “What’s your name, stranger?”

“Edmund.”

“Pleased t’ meet ya,” Z said, holding a hand out. When it was taken, he went around the man’s side, throwing an arm around him. He pushed a little until the hint was taken to start walking down the dock towards the tavern. “You come ‘round here often?”

Blue caught up and walked beside them. “Z is eager to meet new people,” she said an uncomfortable moment after Edmund had begun stammering fiercely. “Please forgive him.” She earned herself a few more stutters and a stupid grin from Z before peeling his arm off the other man and placing it around her own shoulders. She then gave Edmund a gentle push towards the Order of Souls’ tent. “Go collect your earnings.”

He paused to stare at her incredulously before looking back at the head in his hand and nodding, managing out a “Th-thank you!” before jogging away.

Beside her, Jackson asked lowly, “What are you doin’?”

“We need his ship,” she hissed.

Z leaned over some. “We need his ship,” he reiterated.

“We simply tell him the truth and hope our story of gold and glory is awe-inspiring to him and he agrees to help us.”

“Wha, why?” Jackson asked. “Why don’t we get a story strai—”

“We do not have the time to make up a story now and rehearse it,” she said sharply.

Jackson rose a brow before yielding. “Yea, I guess y’re right.”

By the time Edmund had returned to them, Blue had shed Z’s arm and they all made for the tavern. The Drowned Rat was not known for its food, and more so for the one choice of watered-down grog it offered, so they made do with sharing the splashtail Blue had caught earlier. Edmund had been greatly appreciative of that, apparently not a great fisher himself.

Z and Jackson did most of the story-telling. They talked about how they had come back into the Ancient Isles and of the short-lived battle with the galleons — Blue knew she had been rather petrified, but she recalled enough clearly enough to know they were embellishing somewhat. It seemed to matter not for Edmund was on the edge of his seat from the beginning to the point that enough thinned grog was in his system to put him in a clearly altered state, though she wouldn’t say he was drunk .

“So you guys took on two galleons and won,” he said slowly. “Wow.”

“I am unsure that we won the exchange,” Blue said before her crewmates. “We did lose our ship as well.”

“Yea, but we’re the ones that got out with the treasure,” Jackson pointed out.

Blue made a face, but… “I suppose you are right about that.”

“That’s amazing,” Edmund said, still enthralled with their story. He paused, perhaps to consider everything, and everyone was willing to let the silence linger until he asked, “So what’re you guys gonna do next?”

“Well,” Z started, voice a little high pitched; “That sort’a depends on you.”

Edmund blinked. “Huh?”

“See, we got a rowboat so we can leave the outpost if we like, but it ain’t the same as bein’ on a ship.”

It was a very long moment before realisation washed over Edmund’s face. “Ohh.”

“Yea.”

Blue leaned her elbows on the table. “We will go as far as you are willing to take us,” she said politely.

“Oh, i-it’s no problem!” Edmund said. “I was heading up to Golden Sands after I finished up here.”

“Oh.”

“Hey!” Jackson chimed in. “That’s perfect! That’s where we need t’ go.”

Perhaps, Blue thought, the man was more timid than she could detect and thus more willing to work for them than she ever personally would. At least, she sort of expected that they would pay him.

Whatever the case, she couldn’t believe their luck.

 

*

 

A sloop was a fine ship for a lone sailor. It worked well for a pair, too. Three people was pushing it, and four was downright miserable. At least, that’s what Blue thought. Worse, though, was that Edmund’s sloop was fairly standard, lacking the pleasantries she had become accustomed to. It lacked a bed for any of them to sleep in — instead, there was a tiny brig — so she and Z and Jackson piled onto the canvas. She ended up between them, her feet at their heads and vice versa. She could stand to sleep on her back for the few nights they spent on the little ship.

More miserable was not having anything to do. With three perfectly capable men alongside her, there was always someone that wasn’t her to take the helm. There was only so much to be written in the book she kept, lest she begin to record entire conversations any of them had. They did try to include her in the chats, but she didn’t care to join and talk throughout the entire day, instead only involving herself as often as felt needed to be polite. Blue spent much of the travel time up in the crow’s nest. The climb up and down was difficult, downright hazardous if she wasn’t careful, but it was a way for her to be useful and get away from them for a time.

A stop had been made at Plunder Valley. It was along their route, but more importantly, it allowed them an opportunity to bathe. Blue had been dying to clean up after losing their brigantine. The men following suit was nice, but Golden Sands Outpost was so far away still that they would need to stop again to be truly presentable in her eyes. Whether or not they did was up to them — she was simply eager to be back aboard her own sloop with Z. That thought kept her up late one night.

It was late morning when they were on the approach to Golden Sands Outpost. When Blue finally felt like coming down from the crow’s nest, the men were all on the quarter-deck; Z specifically was sitting lazily on the canvas, Edmund and Jackson busy talking at the helm.

She heard Jackson saying, “— and her head was out the window! Oh, hey Blue.”

She offered a polite greeting before making towards the canopy, sitting on the edge. She heard Z shift and then he was laying on his stomach closer to her, apparently having simply leaned forward and moved his legs out from underneath himself, replacing them with his elbows. There was a dumb little grin on his face and she raised a brow, unwilling to do anything about his behaviour lest she draw Jackson and Edmund’s attentions. She simply tolerated it, and when she spied his foot and pegleg playfully positioned in the air behind him, she rolled her eyes.

The Forlorn Phoenix had been moved to the unused dock at the far side of the outpost. That itself didn’t bother her, though it did mean there was quite a walk to make. She and the men stayed together until they reached the tavern; they went inside and she continued onward. Until she checked, Blue’s mind would not rest, curious if anything had been taken, replaced, or otherwise shuffled about.

Aboard the ship, they were short some ammunition and planks, and the food barrels were empty, but that was fine — she loathed to wonder what condition any food left in there would have been in after all this time.

Satisfied enough with what she did and didn’t find, Blue went back to the tavern and they all got a meal and grog.

The topic coming to a close, Jackson cleared his throat and brought another up. “And if it don’t bother you none, I’d like to stick with you.”

Edmund looked quite surprised by that. “Oh. R-Rea— Sure!”

Blue was so glad he agreed without question. She spied a similar whisper of relief on Z’s face.

“That ain’t a bad idea,” Z said, leaning on an elbow. “You can teach him how t’ do some fightin’.”

“Uh, yeah!” Jackson responded a moment later, clearly having to think about that matter. “Well, I just figured you two wouldn’t want to spend all that time with us lookin’ for mine or Mark’s family and then sittin’ on an island with them and all that. But I can do that, too.”

Z gave him a look that said he didn’t believe him; Blue ignored the matter in favour of sipping at her grog. “That’s very thoughtful of you,” she commented.

“Ye-Yeah,” Edmund added. “And I’d love to learn h-how to fight better. I know a lot of the ideas, but…”

“Practise makes perfect,” she said for him.

They talked for a little while longer before Jackson leaned away from the table. “I guess we should get goin’ while there’s still sunlight.”

And while the wind was favourable for them, Blue thought about it. Something was lingering in her mind, growing from a whisper to a shout. She looked at Z before looking back across the table at Jackson. “Do you want to go alone with Edmund to search for your family?”

He looked taken aback but shook his head. “No, no, I know where they’re supposed t’ be by now…” His voice trailed off with uncertainty.

Blue was sure of her question, however, and reiterated: “That was not what I asked: would you like more company?”

“Ya mean like… you an’ Z comin’ with?”

She waited a brief moment for Z to interject. When he didn’t, she said, “Precisely.”

Judging by his expression, Jackson was pleasantly surprised by this. He shook his head a little in disbelief before smiling. “Yea, sure!”

Blue nodded thoughtfully before saying: “Then rest for the remainder of today and get some good sleep tonight before we head out together tomorrow morning.”

Jackson and Edmund looked thrilled by the prospect of sailing together as two ships. Blue didn’t mind it, especially considering her state. She did glance at Z, who looked neither excited nor annoyed by the idea. He seemed totally neutral, especially when he caught her looking and only shrugged before downing some of his grog.

Notes:

I did tell my guys at one point that this day would make one hell of a good story. :thinking:

Chapter 44: Experience

Summary:

Sailing just got a whole lot more social, and with that come problems.

It hadn’t bothered Z that Blue had offered for the two of them to sail along with Edmund and Jackson. It didn’t bother him to visit the families of those he trusted enough to call friend. He appreciated that they liked him so much and he found their company agreeable every so often.

What did bother him was that Blue was curled up against his side yet again.

He scratched at his head with the arm he had previously propped his head up on before returning it to his side. His other arm was currently occupied, wrapping around behind her until his hand rested against the front of her hip. It had seemed like the most natural way to situate his arm, and it was comfortable; the intimate nature of it eluded him the first few times. When it had finally occurred to him, it bothered him.

Blue shifted slightly against him, but she was still asleep. He couldn’t fathom how she was that comfortable against him. He was rather comfortable, too, and that confused him all the more.

They were friends, that much was certain, but the night after he had come to that delightful conclusion, he had allowed Blue to seduce him, so was that even the whole truth? Z had liked her enough right off the rip to flirt some with her — and the alcohol had helped — so it wasn’t as though he didn’t like her enough to fuck her, but she had originally rebuked him in no uncertain terms, so… That only made her coming onto him for a second time while they were at Tribute Peak all the more confusing.

He hated not understanding people.

Her sighing had become something he was used to hearing, mostly as she was falling asleep or waking up. The last one he heard might have been the latter, but it was the middle of the night, so that shouldn’t have been the case…

A moment later, he stopped digging his fingertips into her hip.

Slowly, he took a deep breath in and let it out. Lying in bed with her was doing him no favours tonight, just as it hadn’t any other night that the same thoughts plagued him. While it was doing her a favour, he wondered about it, about whether or not her arm really was still so painful that she had to keep it positioned in such a way. He quickly decided that such a thought was ridiculous — the day-to-day movements of her arm had not changed. No, as much as Z wished he were right about her getting better, that didn’t seem to be the case. The current now seemed to be her new reality. He briefly wondered if that had been his fault.

He took another slow, deep breath.

Frustrated with his thoughts and the overwhelming, twisted feelings he didn’t understand, Z decided that he had to get out of bed. He began the process of getting up, sliding out from under Blue’s arm while simultaneously catching it so that it didn’t drop and cause her pain. As he was getting both arms around her to roll her on her back, she shifted, rousing. He was quick to quietly say, “Go back t’ sleep.”

She looked annoyed yet too tired to fight him very much. “Where are you going?”

“Gonna stretch my legs,” he said, sliding off the edge of the bed now that she was situated.

His answer seemed to be good enough as Blue lolled her head to the opposite side and settled back into the mattress. Z silently thanked whoever would hear him for that as he strode out of the rented tavern bedroom and made his way down to the empty dining area. He sat at a long table with a bench seat, elbows going on the table and his palms on his face. He was tired and yet sleep totally evaded him.

It was sometime when he could just barely detect that the sun was coming up when he heard steps coming down the stairs. He was slow to look up and when he did, Edmund was before him, looking as though he were contemplating sitting across from him. Z simply gestured for the other to do so before he tried to speak. He seemed relieved after that.

“G-Good morning,” he said carefully. “I… didn’t think anyone else would be up yet.”

Z resisted the urge to blurt out that he had been up all night and instead forced a smirk. “What, y’re not tryin’ t’ skip out on us now, are ya?”

It took a moment for Edmund to realise what he was getting at and quickly shook his head. “N-No! No, I ju-just—”

“I’m jus’ givin’ y’ a hard time,” he said, not wanting the other to hurt himself in confusion. Z forced himself to relax and take on a more neutral posture. “I’m up early, y’re up early; that’s all there is t’ this.”

That statement seemed to allay whatever concerns Edmund might have had as he nodded a moment later and interlaced his fingers together in his lap, sitting patiently. Nothing more was said between them as they waited for the kitchen to start serving breakfast. It wasn’t long after that when Blue and Jackson joined them. Z could only silently complain to himself about the fatigue-induced headache he realised he had when he saw her.

 

*

 

Their destination had been Shipwreck Bay. Between the wind, the storm, and a skeleton fleet being in their way, they had swung somewhat southerly to avoid it all. How they had ended up at Castaway Isle of all places was a mystery to him.

Z did not like Stitcher Jim. The old man had never been up to any good and was rumoured to have betrayed his alliance. That didn’t seem to be much of a rumour considering Captain Grace Morrow’s supposed words on the matter. Z didn’t concern himself terribly with rumours that didn’t involve the potential to get richer, but he had heard enough of that one to know it was probably true. With Jim much more recently being said to be turning over a new leaf with the Bilge Rats, it was probably true. No, it was definitely true, and such an act was super fucked up.

Z just… didn’t like the man. He had no reason to. It was Jackson’s presence on the little island with Blue — and Edmund — that made him comfortable enough to stay put on the Forlorn Phoenix . Jim was a slimy bastard as far as Z was concerned, and he was very aware that to many people, he himself was a slimy bastard, so if that was what he thought of Jim…

On the other hand, he had no idea of what to think of the masked stranger beside him. Though he could not understand what was being said, everyone else had spoken. They had not. And while he leaned back against the mast of the sloop, watching out of the corner of his eye, Z had to fight to keep control of the bad feeling growing in his gut. He was thankful when everyone returned to their ships not much longer after that.

“We have enough sunlight to make for Old Boot Fort,” Blue declared once he joined her at the map table. Z rose a brow. They exchanged looks and she spoke again: “Stitcher Jim says there are… that there is something that has happened there.”

“Isn’t that where that cloud was?”

“Where we thought it was, at least,” she murmured, looking over the map. She tapped at Old Boot Fort’s square and nodded. “I think you are right, for what it is worth. That fog was… mm.” She didn’t seem to want to discuss the matter quite yet.

He nodded to her and they returned to the main-deck. She had been right — they had enough time to make it there before it was properly dark. Or at least, to the outer edges of the mist that now surrounded the island. Both sloops came to a halt just outside of it, side-by-side so the crews could speak to each other. No words were immediately exchanged, however, only concerned glances. A simple “Shall we?” from Z was all that was required to spur them onward.

Inside the misty fog was Old Boot Fort, dark and gloomy. Z had never seen anything quite like it, but it did remind him of the Sea of the Damned. When he muttered this to himself, Blue made a noise of affirmation to him.

“Huh?”

“That is what Jim said,” she explained from the quarter-deck. Z felt bad when he saw her pulling at the ropes to bring the sail up, but she spoke before he could offer aid. “He described is as a window to the Sea of the Damned. It was so strange — he said he had scouted the island out, but…”

Z eyed her curiously. That expression… “What is it?”

She eyed him back when she spotted his gaze, then: “The way he spoke makes me think that he knew more than he was willing to say.”

“That sounds like Jim,” he said, shaking his head. Blue’s expression shifted to one of curiosity. “The guy’s never been up t’ any good,” he explained. “Betrayed his alliance, killed all of ‘em that he could, and now he’s hidin’ ‘round islands talkin’ ‘bout bein’ a better man.” He shook his head. Blue’s curiosity seemed sated enough and he was glad for that. He could go on and on about Stitcher Jim’s atrocities, but that would be fairly hypocritical and Z would rather spend that time doing something more productive, or napping.

“I see.”

He looked back at her again; the ropes were mostly managed and he kept his impression of that to himself. Blue was moving slowly and carefully so he assumed it hadn’t been a totally painless ordeal for her.

Just as there had been before, there was a dock. In fact, other than the mist and the ghoulish green lights atop some structures, the stronghold looked much like it had before.

Jackson and Edmund’s sloop stopped at the dock first. The Forlorn Phoenix had its sail raised a little too soon but Z didn’t say anything, only grabbed one of the harpoons and used it to pull the ship alongside the other.

“This… This place…” Edmund sounded as disturbed as he looked.

“This place is creeping me out,” Jackson said for the other.

Z looked to Blue and found her already looking at him. She did not look as though she wanted to step foot onto the island whatsoever. He, however, simply shrugged before hopping onto the other sloop and then onto the dock.

Nothing felt strange about the island; it just looked a little different now as far as he could tell. He wasn’t dead despite the ambience suggesting to his mind that he was.

A moment later and he heard footsteps behind him; he turned to see the other three had joined him. Blue visibly took a breath before she strode up alongside him.

“I do not like it here.”

He grunted a response.

“Hey, is it me or did Jim seem t’ know a little too much about this place?” Jackson asked as they started up the ramps.

“I said the same thing to Z,” Blue said. “He did seem… very informed.”

Z made another noise to show he was listening, if only a little. The others chatted a little bit to each other but said nothing especially interesting.

At the top of the island, the main building had changed some. It looked mostly the same, but above its entryway was a statue in the likeness of the Ferry of the Damned’s figurehead. Z was unperturbed by it, what with everything else going on with the aesthetics of the island now. He led the way through the threshold.

Now things were getting a little more interesting. Before them, up against the wall of the main room of the fort’s building was an open cage. A headless skeleton sat within it. Z’s attention was more focused on the table a few feet to the left of it, lit candles and Dark Relics sitting upon it. His interest in it seemed to catch everyone else’s.

“So… what exactly did Jim say ‘bout this place?” he asked.

“He said the fort had been twisted and used for some sort of dark ritual,” Blue said. “He said we could still stop it by collecting the six Flames of Fate and lighting the statues appropriately, and then placing a Ritual Skull to lure the skeletons out—”

That didn’t sound right and — statues? Z blinked and looked around the room. There were indeed six statues in the Ferryman’s likeness, all holding out a lantern. They were slightly different and he realised they represented the method of one’s death. Ah, Blue was still talking.

“—but that sounds more like performing a ritual than stopping one to me,” Blue finished.

“Yeah, yeah, it does,” Jackson murmured. Beside him, Edmund nodded in agreement and so did Z.

“So… that’s what those gallys were doin’.” Z rubbed at his chin and ignored how clearly he could imagine Blue yelling at him to shave.

“Seems that way,” Jackson commented.

He looked and saw that Blue had her hands on her hips. Z stared for a moment and when he realised she wasn’t going to speak voluntarily, he asked, “What’re y’ thinkin’?”

She sighed. “Jim also mentioned Shadows of Fate. Skeletons and…” Her voice trailed off and she shrugged in her own lopsided way. “Unless he meant a kind of skeleton. There are the dark skeletons that are impervious to attacks in the nighttime until you shine a light on them, but…”

“I guess he’s meanin’ those,” Jackson said for her.

“He was so very specific though.”

Jackson shrugged. Edmund simply looked curiously between them and Z, who sighed.

“Was there anythin’ else Jim said that y’ think y’ oughta repeat?”

Blue looked incredibly thoughtful again, but it was Edmund who spoke up.

“He-He called the lady with him his b-beloved.”

Z made a face. Right, there had been a person in robes and a mask with Jim on Castaway, someone who he didn’t recognise and hadn’t thought anything of at the time. He made a face.

“She never said one word,” Blue said quickly.

“Really?”

She shook her head; Jackson and Edmund joined her a moment later. Z turned back to the table and sighed.

“Nothin’ else that he said?”

“No. I can think of nothing else of interest he said. But it is like I said, he was very… informed. Far more than we are after having come here and investigated. I cannot imagine how he and his beloved might have gleaned so much more than we have.”

Z looked at her. “… unless…”

She nodded.

Z looked back at the table and the items on it. He bit at the inside of his cheek. If Jim was involved in something, it was bound to be a bad time. Despite that, he sensed no danger here, and if Blue was right about the ritual thing — and she sure as shit sounded it — then the fort was completely dormant for the time being.

“I’m tired,” he declared.

“So am I,” Blue said to his surprise.

Jackson recoiled. “How can you be tired when we’re in a place—”

Z cut him off: “The fort’s not active. There’s nothin’ here.”

Jackson and Edmund looked unconvinced.

“I concur,” Blue said. “But if you would like to cross the channel—”

“No, no, if you two think it’s all right, then I’ll trust ya on it.”

Z spotted a small smirk on her face. He wore one himself. “Ain’t anythin’ gonna happen,” he said. “In case y’ were worryin’ ‘bout whatever y’re thinkin’ might happen.”

“All right, all right,” Jackson said, forcing a light chuckle. “But when somethin’ does happen, I’m blaming you two.”

Edmund hurriedly nodded in agreement.

Z was relieved that an argument wasn’t required before they could see about getting some sleep. After last night, he needed it, even if they were stopped at a creepy island. And Ol’ Boot had been so pretty before…

 

*

 

Z wasn’t sure of what to think of having slept so well. While thoughts and concerns and curiosities about Blue curling up beside him had been plaguing him, he couldn’t deny that it was a nice way to sleep. Before all of this, the best sleep he got was when someone he trusted was keeping watch. While he knew that was certainly safer, sleeping with someone felt much better.

He suddenly felt incredibly juvenile. And alarmed when he realised Blue wasn’t clearing her throat for her own sake.

He looked up at her at the helm. “What?”

“Jackson jumped off their ship.”

There was the splash at the ladder.

“Oh.”

Jackson was up the ladder and on the quarter-deck with Blue, waving a little greeting to them. “You guys wanna go check out that island to our left? It didn’t use to have that great big building there—”

“We’ve been there already,” Z said.

“Oh.”

“It is an interesting place,” Blue said thoughtfully; “but are we not expected? Past due, even.”

Jackson made a whiny noise. “You’re right, fine. We’ll keep headin’ forward.” When no one had any reason to keep him, he leapt off the ship to find a merfolk to return him to his own.

Z looked back at Blue until she looked at him. “Well,” he started, considering his words. “Y’ nervous?”

“What, about meeting everyone’s families?”

He shrugged.

“Hardly.” She said it so quickly that he knew that wasn’t the case. It seemed Blue wasn’t crazy about the idea of lying to him, looking away and making a face. He chose not to point that out.

“Well, it is… something I can manage.”

“What’s that supposed t’ mean?”

“A part of me welcomes the idea. To be considered worthy of meeting those he loves so much to be so secretive about. By the way you talk, however, there are to be quite a lot of people there.”

“Could be. Jack said we’re meetin’ his family but that might mean Rylund and Marcus’ families, too,” he said simply.

Blue looked uncomfortable. “I am not fond of crowds.”

He tilted his head, unable to help some amusement. He chuckled and joked, “What, good ol’ social Blue don’t like people?”

“I do not.”

He blinked and she seemed to pick up on his confusion.

“People are easier to work with if they like you,” she explained. She paused before saying, sounding as though it were a load off of her chest, “If I could choose to only deal with a select few people for the rest of my life, I would be very happy to do so. That is not how things are, however.”

Z leaned forward from his seat against the mast, making an expectant gesture to her. He couldn’t help a grin, even when she startled and looked more than a little annoyed.

“That is not how things are,” she repeated sternly.

“It could be, though.”

She gave an exasperated sigh. “And how, pray tell, do you suppose that?”

Z shrugged. “Easy: y’ jus’ stay here with us for the rest’a yer days.”

He couldn’t decipher that expression on her face as she looked away, but he could sense her distress.

“What?”

“That—”

She took a breath but did not speak again. It was all so simple to him, he couldn’t fathom how she didn’t see this option before her.

“It’s really that easy. Y’ just figure out who y’ like and sail with ‘em ‘til the Ferry don’t open its door for ya.” Blue still didn’t want to look at him and he was aware of just how tightly she was gripping the wheel. “… unless y’ still wanna go back t’ society and all that.”

She huffed. “I cannot.”

“Wha, ‘cause’a yer face?”

She made a loud noise of frustration and Z recoiled slightly.

“That— yes! That’s part of it.”

“And the other part?” Z asked, steeling himself.

“I hate this.”

Z thought she meant whatever she was fighting within her head, but then she looked around and gestured to their surroundings.

“What—”

“I loved sailing as a child,” she said. “It meant we were going somewhere and I got to go with. Perhaps I’d even get a present, or meet someone interesting. Then…” Her voice got so much lower. “Then it was all there was.”

It was all so vague Z couldn’t discern what the problem was, but whatever the matter might be, he was keen enough to sense that it deeply distressed her. He leaned back against the mast and crossed his arms, looking away from her and wondering how to proceed. It would probably be best to not push the matter, but she spoke again without prompting.

“I hate this. I hate sailing and pirates and everything they stand for. I hate people — they’re terrible, wretched creatures who only care for themselves and their own little, insignificant world. The thought of another’s needs and interests is inconceivable to them, or worse: they do acknowledge it and don’t care anyway.”

Blue hadn’t had a great life. The specifics eluded him, but that much he could tell. He understood this very well. He also knew how it could change for the better, but he also knew that words wouldn’t do much good for her right now, though that was all he had. He took a deep breath and considered them carefully.

“So… t’ counter that, y’ try to think about people a lot, even if y’ don’t like ‘em.” Blue gave him an incredulous look, yet he could see that he was right. He spoke even more slowly. “Y’ don’t hafta do that, y’ know. You can jus’… be whoever y’ want t’ be out here. You can be yerself. That’s what we’re all about: it’s all about the freedom .”

It was as clear as the sky was this day that he had subverted whatever expectations Blue had. Her grip on the wheel was still as solid as the ship’s anchor, yet her expression had changed to one of surprise. He had certainly given her a lot to think about and he was glad to have made his point.

He stood and made his way up the stairs, and it was only as he was climbing up the last one that Blue finally caught herself and found the sea very interesting to look at. Z simply slid his hands past hers and gently took the wheel from her.

“Why don’t y’ go lay down for a while?”

Blue stood there for a moment before grunting in response and disappearing downstairs.

Chapter 45: Birds of a Feather

Summary:

Lots of people means lots of ideas, and that can dangerous, or profitable.

It had been less so than he expected, but the day had still been somewhat terrible.

A pair of sloops coming into the calm island waters of Shipwreck Bay had not been expected by those waiting there. If not for Jackson being sighted on the bowsprit of the sloop he and Edmund were aboard, those sailing in would have been welcomed via cannon fire. Z was proud of such paranoia from the group, that of which consisted of Jackson’s wife and her mother, as well as Marcus and his wife and their young daughter. When asked, they explained that Rylund and his wife’s families simply had other places to be. They gladly accepted Edmund’s unexpected presence.

Z was very choosy about who he liked; no one here was offensive to his senses and that made tolerating a gathering easier. No, he did not mind anyone that was here. Knowing what he now knew about Blue, he was impressed by how she managed to keep her wits about her, tolerating people with a charming demeanour that he was almost jealous of. These similarities between them were not lost upon him, though he did find himself wondering exactly how much of hers was forced. She could be… quite prickly. By the end of the day, he didn’t know if he should openly ask her if she was all right or not. She had not bluntly complained about people when they returned to the sloop at the end of the day; she complained of fatigue, but he was tired, too — anyone would be after an entire day of being social.

As far as he could tell, Blue had genuinely gotten along well with everyone. Farah, Jackson’s wife, was a somewhat shy woman who was able to laugh with Blue when Jackson said something funny. And while she had previously gotten along with Marcus just fine, now that he was beside his family, Blue seemed more reserved about him — and them. In fact, he got the feeling that Blue was carefully observing everyone at the gathering. She did not lead conversations, instead letting others start and steer them, simply commenting when especially appropriate or when directly spoken to, something that Z realised was rather polite of her. No one seemed to mind her timidness that Z silently noticed, not when she constantly wore a small smile and laughed so often.

Or perhaps Blue was uncomfortable around children. Though Marcus and Titania’s daughter was fine around her parents, Cassidy was a shy child. She did not get loud, talk very much, or cause disturbances, instead opting to sit beside one of her parents and quietly play with a toy. No one said anything about it, and perhaps only he noticed, but Z did notice that Blue was uncomfortable when interaction between her and the child was forced, polluting her mood no matter how gentle or fluid it was. She managed it well until she had partaken in dinner, excusing herself as soon as she was done with her bowl of stew. Z had himself a second helping to give her a little bit of time alone before he excused himself so he could go check on her.

All of this came to the forefront of Z’s mind as he stood on the stairs next to the desk on the Forlorn Phoenix , staring back at Blue with a much less annoyed expression than the one she wore.

“I thought I’d come check on ya’s all,” he blurted out when she shifted.

Her expression softened, but Blue was visibly exhausted. This was confirmed more solidly when she simply grunted a response at him and dipped her head back into her book. He wanted a better idea of how she was doing so he lingered, but he was quiet, letting her be while she wrote. Like usual, as expected, however, his presence seemed to bother her some and she eventually stopped to lift her head to look at him once more. He shrugged awkwardly as he realised he needed to speak words.

“I was wonderin’ how y’ were doin’.” They looked at each other for a long moment; he had to break the eye contact before he had a full body shiver and shrugged. “It’s been a long day’s all.” He bit the inside of his lip. “… and… y’ don’t… really like people… right?”

Blue sighed and looked back at her book. He thought she was just going to ignore him until she flipped a page and said, “If you mean to ask what I think of everyone, I do not mind them.”

“That’s good,” he said, sitting on the edge of the desk. That was relieving and somehow relatable. There were plenty of people that Z didn’t like and very few that he did like; most people he just… didn’t mind.

“And yet I get the feeling that you are not satisfied with that.”

“No, I am,” he shot back, making a face. Blue’s patience most certainly had to be running thin so he quickly added, “I jus’… wanted t’ make sure y’ were good after the day. Y’ left pretty quick after supper.”

She stared at him for a long moment before taking a breath in and saying, “I am tired.”

“Yeah.” He bit the inside of his cheek. “Do y’ feel like talkin’ at all—”

“I would rather finish this and then go to bed.”

“All right.” A part of him knew it wasn’t quite appropriate to say what he did next, yet another part of him couldn’t quite resist, and another part… well, he wasn’t sure about that one but blurted it out nonetheless: “I’ll go warm the bed up then.”

Blue gave him a look, a look that he couldn’t discern the meaning of despite the whisper of a smile on her face. He didn’t think very hard about it as he made his way downstairs.

 

*

 

Z certainly didn’t believe her. He also couldn’t believe all the fish, even when he considered how relatively normal such a plethora of food was whenever Marcus was allowed to cook for a group of people.

Blue had been eyeing him throughout the morning as they sat on the Blackwyche’s fallen mast that led onto the giant rock structure on the island. Z had chosen to pretend that he didn’t notice instead of trying to figure out what her problem might have been. No, it was much more preferable to simply sit there and watch the others make breakfast down below.

Marcus could… get carried away with his food preparation. Last night’s stew had been fantastic, a display of his skills that Z had become accustomed to, not that that made him any less appreciative. Z, however, was not a fan of raw fish. The taste wasn’t always the worst, the smell usually wasn’t great and the texture never was; most of the others disagreed and rather enjoyed how he prepared islehoppers. Z didn’t know what about it exactly gave Blue whatever reservations she had, but last night she had said that she would at least try anything he served to her. As far as Z was concerned, she was going to regret that.

Their perch was not the easiest place to closely watch what Marcus did, but even from way up there they could see that he was butchering islehoppers and thinly slicing their meat, placing it in a grand spiralling pattern on a clay plate. There wasn’t only islehopper meat on it, it just made up the majority of what was there. Z didn’t know what squeezing a mango over it might have done for the flavour and neither did he care. A pair of chickens on a nearby roasting spit were far more appetising to him.

Z did not partake, but true to her word, Blue tried the raw fish dish she was offered. She stayed entirely neutral until she shook her head at Marcus. “It is not bad but I prefer my fish cooked,” she had said.

Marcus simply gave her a small smile and shrugged, politely stating, “More for us then,” referring to he and his wife. Z spied their daughter taking a few bites, but she didn’t seem to be a fan of it, either. Edmund, Jackson, Farah and her mother all ate a respectful amount of it, but it was Marcus who emptied it off the plate.

After spending the morning and much of the afternoon together, Farah’s mother made a comment to her daughter — through the use of hand signals that Z had become used to seeing, though he didn’t understand them, and Blue seemed very curious — about taking a nap and the group took that as a cue to break up for the time being. Z knew Blue well enough to pick up on her eagerness to take advantage of that, so once more they were making a trip up to the top of the rock structure on the island.

“So when we leavin’?” Z asked as they walked.

“Are we not going to simply wait until our presence is unwanted?” Blue asked as though it were obvious.

“They’ll let us stick ‘round as long as we want,” he explained. Blue made a thoughtful noise. He added: “And I dunno ‘bout you, but I’m itchin’ t’ get back on the water, and if y’ don’t like people—”

She cut him off: “They are fine people.” She looked up at the sky thoughtfully. “I am not terribly fond of this grand gathering despite that, but they are fine people to be around.” Z couldn’t quite help a grin that Blue ignored. “But I understand where you are coming from.”

“Really?” he asked halfway seriously.

“Mhmm. If for different reasons, I would also like to abscond.”

He wasn’t sure if he had ever heard that word before, but he could tell what it meant. And… “Guess we got another good reason t’ stick t’gether then, eh?”

Blue rolled her eyes. “Shush you, before I shove you off,” she said half jokingly.

Rather than sitting on the edge at the top as they usually did, Blue stopped so that they could sit in the centre of the platform at its flattest point. Just after they did, and only because she now made it a habit to wear well-fitting trousers, Z grabbed her ankles and pulled her over to his side. He got a little kick out of the small yelp she let out.

“Well, now y’ can’t ,” he said. When she didn’t immediately respond with violence, Z couldn’t help a toothy grin as he looked down at her.

“ You ,” she said, pointing at him before sitting up, adjusting her shirt and brushing some dirt off her back; “are very rude.”

“Oh?” he shot, amused. “ I’m rude? Have you heard the way you talk t’ people sometimes?”

“I only speak like that when they deserve it,” she answered quickly. Then she added, “When you deserve it.”

“Wha, whenever I des— what did I do now?!”

When she crossed her arms and smirked, it was clear to him that Blue was having a laugh at his expense. Before he could retaliate, she twisted around and leaned her back against his side. He sat, dumbstruck for a long moment before placing his hands in his lap, unsure of what to do besides lean back against her, unable to help a small smile.

“Well, I think we make a good team,” he said.

Blue made a small noise of acknowledgement, and to his surprise, she said, “That we do.”

 

*

 

“I’ve been doin’ some thinkin’ about what you said,” Jackson said to Z, changing the dying conversation subject of what instruments everyone played to… something.

Z blinked. “‘Bout what now?”

“The usual stuff ‘bout how larger crews on larger ships make more money an’ all that,” he clarified.

Beside him, Farah nodded her head to Z. He got the feeling that whatever Jackson was about to start on about, they had discussed it prior and he had her approval.

“We sail on sloops and brigs all the time, rarely a gally and that’s usually after we’ve stolen it from somebody else. But I think we could scrounge up the gold to buy one proper.”

Z blinked. He knew that was where Jackson was going with that, but it still surprised him to hear it spoken out loud. It was strange that he spoke of leaving his wife’s side so soon, but if Farah wasn’t arguing…

He looked at Blue; she was already looking at him.

Wordlessly, they both retrieved their purses from their belts and offered them to Jackson. He accepted them, opened them and glanced inside. They were closed back up and he nodded to no one in particular. “Yeah, this oughta be enough.”

Blue had been eyeing Edmund and he finally noticed. “Oh! Uh, n-no! I ha-have some matters to get to.” He was silent for a moment, then stammered excitedly. He stopped, took a breath and said somewhat slowly, “But I’d love to be on a galleon with you guys if you n-need somebody to fill in.”

Blue looked about the group.

“We’re all gonna go with him to Dagger Tooth to get this sorted out,” Marcus said, apparently reading her mind. He glanced at Edmund, who nodded back to him. “Ed’s gonna drop us off there.” He looked back to Z and Blue. “You two could come with, if you wanted…”

“I think we have a good excuse to get out of your hair,” Blue said. She made a face, then said, “Ah, but then we will have to figure out how to meet up later.”

Everyone but her had a laugh at that, much to Blue’s somewhat visible displeasure. She didn’t seem understanding, either, but Z didn’t have especially consoling words for her. Edmund only looked halfway as bad as she did.

“The boys’ll figure that out when the time comes,” Titania said to her.

Blue looked mildly unimpressed but didn’t argue. Edmund looked as though he was thinking very hard about the matter.

“Don’t you worry, that means you, too,” Jackson said to him.

Edmund did not look reassured whatsoever. “I-I don’t… I’m…”

“What he means,” Blue said, “is that they are good at making things work despite the unreasonable logistics.” Edmund seemed unconvinced. “You will only have to ferry two entire families north to Dagger Tooth. It will not be so bad,” she reassured.

“Yeah, I guess, bu-but… how am I s’pposed to meet back up with you guys?”

“Well, d’ya know where you need to go?” Jackson asked.

“Yeah, more up north in the Wilds.”

Jackson nodded. “Then you can just head back to Dagger Tooth. If we’re all not there anymore, you can just ask the tavernkeeper where we went and we’ll prob’ly’ve told her.”

Blue made an exasperated noise. Edmund looked vaguely scared. “Please remember to tell her if I’m not back in time,” he said.

Farah elbowed her husband’s side before he could jest any further. “All right, all right!” he said, laughing. “We’ll remember t’ tell the crazy bitch.”

That got a chuckle out of the group and finally seemed to assure everyone to a degree where they no longer questioned their methods.

“What about you two?” Farah suddenly asked and Z realised by her look that she meant him and Blue. “Where will you go?”

“Ah, we’ll go wherever the wind takes us,” he said, waving off her question. Blue eyed him before nodding in agreement.

Z ignored the smirk that got them from Farah before she said, “Well, right now that takes you guys up north with us.”

“Tomorrow morn may see us heading in the complete opposite direction,” Blue countered.

It turned out that she had been right. The wind in the Sea of Thieves could be fairly unpredictable. It was known to shift from one side of a ship to the other in minutes at the worst possible times. It was something that every pirate had to get used to. Z just thought it was funny that the group would be moving so slowly up to Dagger Tooth while he and Blue could fly southwest to… well, wherever they wanted.

The night before, they didn’t discuss where they might go next because of the wind’s behaviour. In the morning, everyone said their goodbyes and piled into their respective sloops. Even after they got moving, they did not discuss a destination. They had just passed the Glorious Sea Dog Tavern when Z finally sat upright in his spot in the middle of the main-deck and turned around to look over at the helm where Blue stood.

“So where we goin’?”

She glanced down at him. “I suppose we are going to…” Her voice trailed off and she looked to be thinking rather hard. She shook her head and huffed. “The unmarked island before us. I cannot recall what square on the map it is.”

“I-12?”

Blue gave him a look that seemed… annoyed? Annoyedly impressed? He wasn’t sure. She said, “If that is the one.”

“Pretty sure.”

That next expression was definitely an annoyed one. Z shrugged at her. “What? So I know this place well.”

“I suppose you must if you spend any measurable amount of time on a rowboat.”

“Exactly!”

He had been so fast to respond that Blue gave him an overly exasperated reaction. He just chuckled at her, but the matter did bring Jackson and everyone else back to his mind.

“Hey, so, whaddya think’a everyone? Y’ said they’re fine people, but…?”

“They are,” she said after a moment. She eyed him cautiously. “If you are curious as to what I think of each of them in detail… there is not much that I think. Jackson is a fine man with a fine wife and second mother to keep him grounded. I am surprised they have no children when Marcus and Titania have their daughter. Jackson seems to quite enjoy his role as an uncle to her.” She made a face. “And… some, it seems, prefer to use a name they’ve chosen or been given.”

He never knew what Blue was going to say and that was yet another surprising thing for her to bring up. “Yea, that’s true. What about it?”

“It makes me wonder what they are running away from.” He blinked and Blue looked away, her attention going back to the helm as though she were done with the conversation. Then she added: “I suppose we all have our demons and dragons and other nasties we would prefer to not deal with, yes?”

He eyed her back. “Yeah… I s’ppose so.”

Z was not a stupid man. No, he could not read and mingling with people was not his strongest skill, but stupid he was not — he knew what Blue was getting at. It occurred to him to ask of her name, a curiosity that now burned in his chest, but then it would only be right for her to ask for his in return. He had no desire to go back to that time of his life.

They spent the rest of the journey to I-12 in a silence that Z wasn’t entirely comfortable with.

 

*

 

The wind had only shifted so much in the next days, taking them to Plunder Outpost. Z didn’t mind stopping there, even if a brigantine had been moored there first. That had been an opportunity for something interesting to happen, but nothing did. A single member of the brig’s crew had survived a battle and taken refuge at the outpost. When they learned that he was recovering from injuries and more focused on repairing his ship than anything else, Z had been disappointed. It seemed Blue had been, too, if for differing reasons, her attempts to start a conversation with the man falling flat. No, his only love was that brigantine of his.

The tavernkeeper of the Drowned Rat was notorious for not wanting to serve food. Not doing so was so ridiculously irresponsible that she occasionally relented. With so many mouths to feed — or rather, hands to take money from — this visit was one of the ones that they could get a kitchen-cooked meal during.

More interestingly, Duke was posted up at the outpost for the time being. The Bilge Rat representative was a friend to anyone who would have him, but especially those that liked to drink and even more so those that would buy him a drink. Z was perplexed when he found Blue sitting with the man, grog in hand. He pretended to pay them no mind after returning Duke’s lively greeting and left them alone. It was dark by the time Blue finally returned to the sloop.

“I am afraid he had no more useful information regarding the fort,” she said after being prompted about the conversation. “In fact, he knew less than Jim did.”

“Huh. The Bilge Rats usually know what’s goin’ on more than anyone else…”

Blue side-eyed him. “I am… curious as to why Jim knows so much.” It was a wondering statement she made, but her tone was fairly certain.

Z gave her a halfhearted shrug. “Jim’s one of those guys—”

“I know his kind. A scared, evil little thing with no sense of honour in any way that must be directed by a firm hand. Often the wrong hand.”

“Somethin’ like that.” Z put his hands on his hips and looked back over the map table. He heard Blue stand up from her chair and come alongside him. “There ain’t anythin’ happenin’ down here… We could go t’ Thieves’ Haven and wait a while, or we could move on.”

“I am not against waiting around.”

He snickered. “What, that family gathering take that much outta you?”

She glared weakly at him before leaning against the wall beside the bookcase, crossing her arms. Then she said: “I am uncertain if I am deserving of their company.”

He blinked. “Wh- What ?” Blue shrugged a moment later and he shook his head. “No, not—” He mimicked her. “What the hell does that mean?”

Blue shifted some more, clearly uncomfortable. He didn’t care in such a way as to back down, determined to know what she meant. Just before he spoke again, she shrugged once more and shook her head.

“I am uncertain I have done anything to deserve the company of such welcoming people,” she said. “I am… unremarkable.”

“The hell you ain’t—” He disagreed deeply with that statement, but why ?

“I have performed no feats of heroism. I am not especially talented at anything. I…” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head again. “I can think of no reason for them to be so welcoming of me.”

“Because I’m their friend and y’re my friend?” Z deadpanned. Blue didn’t look impressed or like he had changed her mind at all. “Y’ don’t…” He took a breath. “Y’re talkin’ like y’ think they expect somethin’ from ya.”

Judging by the change in her expression, he was on the right path. Blue looked straight at him for a moment — it was unsettling how intense her gaze was — before finding the opposite wall behind him interesting. “That is normally how people interact with one another, is it not? Relationships of all kinds are transactions. There is a give and take to it. Am I wrong?”

Most relationships were transactional in some way or another. Z had thought of this before, he had to in order to make sense of some people’s behaviours, but never had he heard anyone talk about it out loud and neither did he ever think it would be a good idea to. He was not a romantic, but thinking that way took the beauty out of things. A relationship — of any kind, he thought — didn’t need to be boiled down to give and take, yet that was what one could do if they really wanted to.

He took a deep breath. “No, not really… but y’ don’t need t’ worry ‘bout it bein’ like that with all’a us. Or with me.”

Z got the feeling that the little smile she gave him before looking away wasn’t genuine. No, he knew it wasn’t. It was one of those sarcastic smiles, something that people forced and didn’t really mean. He made his displeasure of this evident on his face and Blue didn’t look persuaded in the least.

“Whatever it is that you think you should say to change my mind, please keep it to yourself. I assure you it is nothing I have not heard before.”

Blue thinking like that didn’t sit right with him. He wanted to argue, contest her thought process, but she was probably right that there was nothing he could say that would change her mind — he was not very talented with words. More pressing on his mind… what happened to her?

Chapter 46: What's Done in the Dark

Summary:

Though it may be difficult to navigate, the cover of darkness yields opportunities to those who know where to look.

Notes:

AAAA I SLEPT IN I’M SORRY AAAAAAAAA -warbles-

Blue shifted as she slowly woke. A moment passed and she became aware of the pounding rain that had disturbed her. Letting a breath out, she curled up tighter, now also aware of the cold. Z sighed before adjusting the arm that was around her. It tickled a little, where exactly on her side he had his hand landed, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

After what felt like forever and a half, she said, “We are not going anywhere.”

“Nope.”

She buried her face against his side until she felt him move again. The thought to yell at him occurred until she realised that he was pulling a blanket around her shoulders. She grunted at that.

“Go back t’ sleep.”

That got a small grumble out of her, too tired to argue; she had meant to be the one to say that.

 

*

 

The lightning streaking across the sky, the booming thunder — it all might have served Z as a good excuse to stay in bed, but for Blue, it was all the more reason to crawl out of bed. When he joined her on the mid-deck, she was pleasantly surprised. It was all the more surprising to see that he had grabbed himself a fishing pole without being asked.

Now both of them were sitting on the map table. Blue had her feet pressed against the wall that looked out the back of the sloop, bracing herself for the fights against the fish they sought. She didn’t say anything, just glad to have another set of hands puling in stormfish. For how much he liked them and would certainly gorge himself, she was especially glad for his help.

Occasionally they reeled a fish in, but for a time, they just sat and enjoyed each other’s company. Blue was happy to sit and fish, whereas Z eventually became uncomfortable and had to do something or speak, just as usual.

“How many’a these do y’ want?”

She rolled her eyes. “As many as we can catch.”

He gave her a thoughtful hum. “Y’ sure we need that many?”

She looked between him and the pile of fish beside them; another set were hooked onto a chain that hung against the canopy’s support beam. Perhaps Z had a point — they had caught quite a few. And yet…

“Just how many do you plan to eat?” she quipped. He gave her an annoyed look once he understood what she was getting at and she smirked. “Whatever we cannot use ourselves can be sold to the Plunder Outpost tavern.” He made a thoughtful noise and Blue quickly added: “Hopefully.”

Z chuckled. “Yeah, hopefully . Tanya’s kind of a crazy bitch.”

Blue simply made a noise of agreement.

 

*

 

“Stephen’s Spoils?”

“That is what the barkeep said,” Blue huffed.

She stomped past Z and back down into the sloop’s hold to deposit the oversized sword-faced-fish into the food barrel. He followed her and waited for her to finish. Blue got the feeling that something was on his mind and gave him an expectant look, leaning against the wood barrel as she did.

“What?— err, what else did she say? Any directions or…?”

“She said to head north and look at my map if I felt lost.” Blue grumbled and rolled her eyes. “She said to take them to a seapost…”

“Seapost?”

Blue shrugged and refused to acknowledge the pain that sent shooting down her arm. It took a moment before she said, “I have never heard of such a thing here.”

She thought that might have been the end of that discussion — and that they were simply stuck with a barrel full of stormfish — until she realised what a curious expression Z held. It took another moment for him to realise she had been staring at him and he looked like he had been startled out of a thought.

“What?”

“You look like you are considering doing something stupid.”

He rolled his eyes with exaggeration. “No. C’mere,” he said, motioning for her to follow him to the map table. “She said it was north’a here?” Blue nodded. “Then…” Z trailed a finger up the map, north from Plunder Outpost and stopping at Snake Island, part of it directly north of the outpost. “So… it’s prob’ly on one side’a Snake then, right?”

“Perhaps.” From where they were, Blue couldn’t simply look up and see what was north of them, a giant rock in the way.

“Well, when we went after that Fort’a the Damned thing, I noticed a little rock stickin’ out’a the water east’a Snake.” Blue gave him a curious look and Z spoke again before she could. “When we went t’ Galleon’s Grave with the gally guys, I noticed another rock south’a it. I ain’t sure I’ve ever seen ‘em before but they looked about the same.”

“So you think they are… seaposts?” she asked. He nodded, then brought a hand to his chin. Blue held back the urge to tell him to shave and instead said, “What is it?”

“What is a seapost?”

“I am not sure.” Blue made a face, stumped. After a moment’s thought she said, “Well, I suppose we will simply have to go find out, won’t we?”

 

*

 

Stephen’s Spoils was a strange little… well, it wasn’t an island, more just a tiny rock jutting out of the water. Despite the tiny amount of space, some people had decided that this rock was the perfect place to set up shop. Here, Stephen ran his shop, offering up, well, spoils , prizes from battles, things he had scavenged, the like. Blue was hardly interested in broken down garbage. The Hunter’s Call, however… Well, Merry Merrick was a fairly delightful man. She wasn’t one for hunting, but Blue could still appreciate the rewards to be had for it and fishing; his passion was far higher than she could ever manage. Nonetheless, she did enjoy the work and it had proven itself a boon to her health many times over, even if said health was now in a more than questionable state.

Merrick’s family was apparently littering these tiny rocks across all the Sea of Thieves in the name of their Trading Company, the Hunter’s Call, buying fish and meat from passing ships to turn into proper meals. Blue could appreciate that. Z, on the other hand, seemed downright bored. He was sitting on the nearest gunwale of the ship while she was on the dock, politely listening as old Merrick told a tale of summoning a megalodon that Blue wasn’t sure she believed. She was polite still, smiling and occasionally asking a question; she wasn’t sure if her behaviour or the story itself amused Z, small snuffles and head shakes coming from him. She eventually directed Merrick back to the matter at hand and she passed their excess stormfish along to him.

Z looked much less bored when a massive purse was passed to her. Blue almost dropped it in shock. She shook her head to recollect herself. She brought a book up and asked, “Might I have a receipt?”

Merrick looked somewhat stunned by her request but together they produced one anyhow, listing each fish and its value. Z, she came to understand, knew enough of the letters for numbers to be able to tell that one fish in particular had been worth twice what a Chest of Legends went for.

“What the hell.” It wasn’t a question, simply a statement of shock. Z had a dumb look on his face that Blue was beginning to find rather endearing.

“There was only one that was worth this much,” she said, much less dumbstruck. She looked over the receipt, trailing a finger along the listings. “That, I think… yes, you caught the unique one, the one with the red stripes.”

“That fucker put up a fight .”

Blue chuckled. “Yes, well, it seems the more uncommon the fish, the more they will pay for it.” She looked up from the paper to Z and blinked. She had seen that look on his face before, the one he got when he was thinking very hard about something and was going to be too headstrong to be talked out of it. It almost always involved making money. “Uh—?”

“The next time there’s a storm,” Z started, voice dripping with intent, “we need t’ follow that thing ‘til we’re drownin’ in those stormfish.”

Blue just stared at him for the longest moment before blinking a few times, looking down at the list of their payout, then to the giant purse sitting on the table before totally understanding and failing to think of an argument.

“… I suppose that is not a bad idea.”

 

*

 

The tiny rock that Stephen’s Spoils was built on was too small to offer any refuge from the Sea’s waves. Not wanting to get rocked out of bed, Blue had suggested they sit in the nearby calm waters of Crook’s Hollow for the night.

There had been a little bit of daylight left when they had arrived. Dinner was made and eaten in the form of a splashtail — a far less interesting treat than a stormfish but filling nonetheless — and then they had lounged about the ship until nightfall. Z had disappeared downstairs at some point when she hadn’t been watching him and Blue was considering joining him when she noticed something in the sky. She went up to the railing on the side of the quarter-deck, leaning on it as she contemplated what she saw. She’d seen it before and Z had been so mad when she hadn’t immediately alerted him to it. She knew it now to be an active Fort of the Damned, the red of the eyes distinct, but they had also had the advantage of a brigantine and Jackson alongside them. Then again, despite the risks, they had come out of that fight with a Chest of Legends. Blue had only been able to glance at the rest of the loot in the cabin, and who knew what else might have been aboard the other galleon that they hadn’t been able to recover?

Growling to herself, Blue turned away and made her way down the many stairs, down to where Z should have been. He was laid out flat on the bed, looking more or less like he was ready to stay there all night. Blue reconsidered whether or not to speak but he gave her a rather expectant look before she could decide against it and she could only sigh as he sat up on his elbows.

“What?”

“There is… something you should come see.”

He rose a brow at her but rolled onto his feet nonetheless, pushing past her. Before she even caught up to him he made a noise that she wasn’t quite sure what to make of. Blue could see on his face that he was thinking rather hard. Between that and what she knew of him, she expected him to be ready to go after this, but there was a moment of hesitation that made her wonder…

“You ready t’ go?”

… and it seemed that was a reasonable curiosity she had. Not just that, but his tone made her think that it was so much more of a question than he had outwardly put into words. She stared back at him before looking away, considering that. Taking a fight when it was only the two of them was not a great idea, not with her arm, but with the riches they could potentially take…

She huffed to herself and then nodded. “I will go change.” Without waiting for Z’s response she ducked down into the sloop’s hold. It might have been too much trouble to dress as well as she used to, but she refused to wear all black on a daily basis like he did. Now, though, it would be more than a little useful in the dark.

That was another thing she wondered about: they knew nothing about the other party, if there were multiple crews on multiple ships or what, only that there most certainly was a nother party. Perhaps it would be better for them to be as stealthy as they could be, but what that might entail eluded her.

There was a gentle splash that piqued her curiosity. When Blue was back on the mid-deck, she could only just barely spy the top of Z’s head from the rowboat he was sat on now. She approached its empty docking point and looked down at him.

“I cannot row, you know,” she said plainly.

“Yeah, I know, I know.” He did not sound happy about that, but neither did he sound or look like he was dissuaded from rowing what was quite a distance, Blue now realised.

She looked up for a moment, glancing around as though she could see through the darkness. From Crook’s Hollow, there was no way to hide the approach of the Forlorn Phoenix to Old Boot Fort, little as she was; a whole sloop was just too obvious. But a rowboat…

“Are you sure you want to row such a distance? You do not have anyone to trade out with—”

“I’m sure.”

Blue stared down at him for a moment before nodding. He would be tired after such a feat; she deeply hoped that they would not be spotted on their way in. They needed the advantage of stealth if they were going to pull off any part of this outrageous idea.

“Do you need anything besides food?” she asked.

A thoughtful expression crossed his face as he leaned forward in the oarsman’s seat. A moment passed and then he said, “Yeah, a bit of everything, would ya? It’s good t’ have it all just in case.”

Blue wrinkled her nose. Just in case? Stranger things had happened, she supposed.

After nodding to him, she stepped away and retrieved the requested items. She grabbed a few little fish for him, as well as a pineapple, and a few planks before returning. His things were given to him before she stepped away again to grab cannonballs.

In the dark, Blue couldn’t help noticing the glowing spheres in the cannonball barrel. Cursed cannonballs, she recalled. She had handled a few herself, but usually she traded them for goods or her safety. The purple ones affected ships, and the green ones affected people, she had learned rather personally. Short of dislodging one of the sloop’s cannons and placing it on the rowboat — assuming it would even float with it — there would be no way to use them. But, as Z had said, just in case … Who knew? Perhaps there was another alliance there and they could use one ship’s cannons against the other.

Blue paused to consider that thought for a very long moment. What a very curious idea that was, and how very amusing such a scenario might be. Even more amusing was the mental image of throwing a green curseball at someone — Blue highly doubted that even Z could throw it hard enough to crack it and release its magic, but it was a very amusing idea.

“Just in case, right?” she said when she spotted Z’s curious look at the curseshot she gave him. That got a giddy smirk out of him.

“Ready t’ go then?”

Blue drummed her fingertips along the half-wall of the back of the sloop, mentally going over everything that she had collected for them. They had food, they had planks, they had ammunition for cannons… She glanced at him and took in the sight of his blunderbuss on his belt before looking over at the weapon box. Blue hadn’t used her musket since the disastrous fight with the Gold Hoarder, but perhaps she was misplacing the blame for that incident; she should bring it anyway. Using a sword was also awkward, but she placed one on her hip nonetheless. A firm touch made certain that her dagger was well attached to the back of her belt.

“ Now I’m ready,” she said as she vaulted into the rowboat.

Z looked her over before nodding and beginning to row around the ship, angling them at the fortress.

In the calm of the night, there were no big waves churning that they could get stuck on the crest of to betray their presence, though that also meant that there were no waves to hide them in earnest. No, they were dependent on hiding within the darkness itself. The starlight would certainly betray them in the sloop, but in a rowboat, they had a chance of working with it.

Blue was nervous. If Z was, he hid it well, but judging by the way he rowed, he was rather excited. There was a moment of doubt where she wondered just what in the world they were doing before she pushed it away, finding the tiniest of excitement within herself.

They were mad. This was mad. And yet, on they went through the night. They stayed quiet throughout the row; Z was focused on where they were going and keeping a steady speed. Blue wasn’t quite sure how she managed to stay quiet — thoughts were racing through her head: What would they find there at the fortress? Was it like a typical fortress when it was full of skeletons? Were those skellies something special? What the hell were they doing ?

Blue never did quite find the will to say anything on her mind. Instead, they reached the exterior of the fog that now surrounded Old Boot Fort, now dubbed Fort of the Damned, and skirted further north around it. She briefly wondered what exactly Z was doing until she recalled that the dock was on the southern side of the island; she could just make out the silhouette of a sloop there. She was just glad it wasn’t a pair of allied galleons again.

When the island was directly south of them, Z pointed them at the back of the island and took them through the fog. The entire island was sloped and at this angle, no one would see them unless they stood on the edge and was specifically looking for ne’er-do-wells; no one was doing that. Hell, even from way up there, a rowboat might go unnoticed — the vantage point, as far as Blue felt, lent itself better to distant viewing, and from way up there, no one would hear them either, she decided.

Which was all to say that they had gone entirely unnoticed. Blue looked to Z once he pulled the oars in such a way so as to slow the rowboat to a stop beside a rock that was just barely out of the water. They looked at each other before he decided to take the lead and disembarked, stepping onto the rock. They both peered up and still no one stood above them. Gunshots could be heard, however.

Z continued on to the west side of the island and Blue found herself somewhat annoyed. She was already fairly wet from the rowboat ride, but somehow she managed to find irritation in having to submerge herself in the water, as though she hadn’t considered that beforehand. Then again, doing anything off the ship did often involve swimming when not at an outpost, she supposed.

They swam around to a point where they could see the dock area, confirming without a doubt the presence of a sloop at it. Blue was tempted to glance at Z but refrained, instead scouring the deck of the ship for pirates. She spotted none, heard none aboard it, instead only continued to hear the noise of fighting up on the highest point of the island. Rather than going for the ship, Z pulled himself into the shallowest of the water beside them. She followed. It wasn’t the most comfortable area, said area uncertain whether or not it wanted to be flat rocky patches or water, a few punji sticks surrounding them. It sufficed as a place for them to rest and chat, though.

“What is your plan now?” she inquired lowly.

“Well—”

Blue flinched. Had Z? She didn’t know if he did, only knowing that she had heard a sound she’d heard twice before. That, she was fairly certain of, was the sound of a Skeleton Lord blasting someone away from it.

Blue looked to Z — he had recognised it as well. They looked at each other with reserved horror before Z looked away.

“We should wait for them to finish it for us.”

Blue didn’t recover quite as easily as he did. She heard him, but she was still frozen, considering the truth of what was happening up there. A hand on her shoulder made her flinch and look to him again. She took a breath and nodded. She was fine, and he was right.

All they could do was wait and so wait they did. The sun was rising by the time the noise ceased and the clouds above the island faded with the wind. Z was already staring at her when she looked to him, both of them gauging the other’s mood. Blue was still for a moment before nodding once; he immediately nodded back and moved off of the rocks they had climbed upon, almost silently trudging through the shallow water towards the sloop.

“I’m gonna check the ship,” Z had declared.

Just in case , Blue figured. There were plenty of reasons for him to do that — to make absolute certain that there was no one on the ship, to check its supplies and general status, to hide away and wait for the owners to come back… Plenty of reasons. She did also note that Z did not look back at her, not even after climbing up the ship’s ladder.

She wondered about that but forced herself to move onto thinking about doing something more useful.

Moving forward, Blue situated herself on a rock slightly higher up on the island, pressing herself against the outside of the ruined fence to shield herself from the eyes of any other parties. There didn’t seem to be any, none anywhere near their level, at least. Far above them, however, up at the top of the island, she was aware that there was a presence. Blue swore she could hear the sliding of a fortress’ vault door, and she was more certain of that when she heard distant exclamations of excitement. They both sounded female to her, but there were definitely two distinct voices.

Uncertain if Z had heard, Blue turned her attention back to the sloop he had fully committed himself to. When she got a thumb up from him, she simply assumed that had there been anyone aboard it, they were no more. Whatever the case, Blue felt she had no reason to believe that there was anyone at this island other than them and their targets.

A noise caught her attention and Blue ducked down against the fence out of reflex. When she looked again, Z had disappeared from her sight. A moment later and she was aware of at least two people coming down the ramps that were built up along the island’s elevated section. When she heard them pass her, Blue hazarded a peek at them from behind — she was right that there were two, just as to be expected with a sloop crew, and they both appeared to be women. They carried treasure in their arms: one was what Blue understood to be referred to as a stronghold chest, the other a container for carrying smaller pieces of loot. She tucked herself out of view as they set the items on the dock and began to head back up the ramps.

It was somewhat surprising to her that Z had done nothing. A moment’s thought and Blue realised that they could simply wait for these pirates to bring everything down to the dock for them. There was still the matter of taking the treasure from them, but it also occurred to Blue that Z might be able to do something with a cannon on one side of the sloop. That would… certainly be something, she supposed… Quick, easy for them, and nearly painless for their prey.

Blue wasn’t really sure how she was feeling about all of this. Then again, now wasn’t the time, so she forced the thoughts more or less out of her mind. More would have been better, though.

By the time that Blue realised Yes, there were four, they were down on the dock and the women she was spying on were beginning to get their sloop loaded up properly.

Stronghold gunpowder kegs could be found throughout the Sea of Thieves, if you knew how to find them. The vault of a conquered skeleton fortress was just one place to find them. Normally, there would be just one of them and a handful of lesser kegs in a vault, but Fort of the Damned was no typical fort in any sense of the matter. Four had been brought down from the island’s peak. They were very valuable, but not as much as they were a risk for a ship to carry, especially a little sloop. Blue was certain that the explosion from one of those megakegs was bigger than a sloop, bigger than a galleon, even, and this crew had decided to risk ferrying four of them.

That was a particularly bad choice on the women’s part. If Z had not just revealed himself, blunderbuss pointed in the general direction of them and their loot, Blue would still have a clear shot at the kegs on their deck, and her gun’s accuracy was far more true than his was.

There was a bit of excitement on the deck; she did not clearly hear what was said. Z was threatening them, they were surprised — the words did not matter at the moment, not while Blue was getting her Eye of Reach into her arms.

She flinched when she heard the blunderbuss go off. She was just about ready to bring her musket up to aim and shoot, so she finally looked up from it and back to the deck of the sloop. If it had been a woman that Z had fired at, he hadn’t succeeded in even injuring one in a way that mattered. He was a decent fighter with his sword, but a fight with two-to-one odds was not a great situation to be in.

Z did not fight especially hard; she met his gaze, which had gone past the pirates and loot until it landed on her. It seemed they were of the same mind.

A moment after Z was disarmed, Blue lifted her musket and pressed it into her shoulder properly, ignoring the pain. Before the sword was pulled out of his side, she pulled the trigger.

The next thing Blue knew, she was on the ground, looking up at the sky with an awful pain radiating through her body from her back. It didn’t compare to when Graymarrow’s sword had cut through her shoulder, though, so she forced herself to sit up.

The island’s dock was surprisingly intact. The wood making up the fence-line looked a little worse than it had previously, but really, who would notice or care? The sloop, however, was gone, bits of planks left floating in its place. Treasure had been thrown about the area from the blast, mermaid gems and skulls strewn about the larger items. Once on her feet, Blue looked about for any bodies — or rather, parts of them, because certainly even a Skeleton Lord could not withstand an explosion that powerful — in the water and found nothing. Then again, she might have spent more time on the ground than she realised and the Sea of the Damned could have claimed their remains already.

The rival crew was dead. Whatever exactly had happened in the skirmish, Z’s death had been ensured, too. One way or another, Blue would have been left alone; having made the decision to shoot the megakegs, she would be alone for much longer than if she hadn’t. This meant she was going to have to pull all of the treasure out of the water, out from gods knew where it had been blown to, back onto the dock, then go get the Forlorn Phoenix , load it up herself, offload it…

She spied the Chest of Legends just before it briefly dipped below a wave, bobbing gently as though nothing were amiss. A moment passed and Blue spied a shark fin breaching the water’s surface for a few seconds. She shot the water where she last spied it and the water’s surface undulated, perhaps to indicate the creature darting away.

Z had been right — Who knew what might have been there to take? Blue had wondered that, too. As it turned out, there was a lot of mermaid gems and stronghold loot. Despite the risk and what it took to claim it, it had been worth it. Still, Blue wasn’t happy about having to move it all on her own…

Yeah, that was it. That was definitely what bothered her most about this.

Notes:

I apologise if this chapter feels weird. I changed the name after a long time just last night, and then again just this morning. And more pressing, I started writing this in the middle of September of last year and only completed it in late February, meaning I went through moving across the country partway through it. I struggled like hell with it for no particular reason that I can deduce other than some generalised stress/anxiety.

Chapter 47: Set Fire to the Sky

Summary:

The world of the Sea of Thieves is always changing, be it for better or for worse.

Notes:

-excited warbling-

Sitting in the corner of the Unicorn tavern, she had her back to the wall. To her right was the bar, and to her left was the doorway. Through it came a pair of pirates; they spoke and moved as though there was more behind them outside still. Blue was not interested in dealing with a brigantine or galleon’s crew and yet, here she was, acutely aware of those two newcomers sauntering up to her, that she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. She could speak up first, lie and say that she had been up all night and would be no good as company and that she was just here for a late breakfast before returning to her ship for rest…

“Hey, pretty lady, what brings you here?”

One sat beside her and Blue thought that perhaps he was the father to the other, who sat across from her. Pirate families tended to be very well-bonded, she found in her experience, and that made her all the more nervous.

“The Roar,” she answered, refraining from shovelling more food into her mouth. They would have questions about that plan.

… The truth was, Blue had gotten plenty of sleep. She had spent a day’s light travelling across the Ancient Isles to reach this outpost after the mess at Fort of the Damned. She had taken all the loot to the appropriate merchants and been paid. After that, Blue had gotten some much required rest. The truth, really, was that she was sore all over after all that and was in no mood to entertain some bored men.

“The Roar?” the younger one repeated. His presumed father gave her a curious look, too.

“Yes, the Roar,” she said again. “I came here to rest before heading into the Roar. There are great treasures there, yes?”

Somehow, they seemed agitated by that. Blue wasn’t sure she had the patience to be overly polite to them.

“Sure there are,” the older one said. He looked at her and Blue was certain he was gauging whether or not he could take her in a fight. Perhaps that was just her. He added, “But is it just you? The Roar’s an awfully dangerous place for a little lady all on her lonesome like you. Why not stick with us instead?”

He had more to say but Blue cut him off, sharply stating, “I am not good company.”

“With a pretty face like that, sure ya are!”

Blue could have stabbed him just for that comment. She disagreed, but she also loathed this behaviour.

“Look,” the younger one started, leaning forward but forcing a weak smile to try to appear more friendly; “We’ve got an open space on our gally. We’d really like to fill it before we leave the outpost.”

“I like my sloop.”

He made a face. The older man, the one that Blue was now certain was his father, gave her a small chuckle and shook his head, but she could see that he was frustrated, not amused. “Perhaps a tour of our galleon might persuade you?” he said. “It has a lovely cabin.”

That made her skin crawl. Blue refrained from biting the inside of her lip and simply said, “So does my sloop.” She found her feet and ignored their accusatory gazes. “And I quite like my sloop,” she said before stepping past them.

The young man grabbed her by the wrist and she nearly screamed at the pain the pulling caused in her shoulder. When Blue came back to reality, she was sitting in his lap like nothing was amiss. He started to say something, something that she was sure was quite important, and Blue decided now was a good time to introduce him to her dagger. The blade cut through his throat before either man could register that she had produced a weapon.

There was a great loud noise from the older man and Blue had to dash away to avoid having her head removed by a cutlass. She had her own on her hip, but her only good hand was already occupied. More over still, Blue decided that her dagger was a better option — it did have a notch in the top of it to snag other blades with…

But fighting with her left hand was awkward still. As nice of an idea as that was, she would have to find the opportunity to wrench his blade from him, a task that she may very well not be able to complete, what with how he was rushing her. Or maybe not.

Blue darted towards the bar, putting a table in the middle of the room between them. She had hoped that he would give her a moment to consider her next step; instead, he drew a pistol and fired it at her. How he didn’t hit her was beyond her comprehension. He snarled at the gun before throwing it; Blue used that time to dash by him.

Just outside the door, a curious thing happened. The world spun and faded away; when it came back, Blue was suddenly aware that she was looking at the sky. Another moment later and pain coursed through the front of her head. She was not where she should have been, now closer to the cooking area outside of the tavern than the door to it. A noise caught her attention and she realised that Z was sitting on a stool beside her, an empty bucket in hand. It suddenly occurred to her that she was soaking wet.

“Y’ sure know how t’ make friends.”

She grumbled mockingly at him; it was an automatic response. The next thing she recognised in her mind was that she was pleased to see him. Quite pleased. As Blue sat up, she realised that her jacket was missing from her shoulders and that she had been disarmed entirely — another moment’s thought and she realised it was closer to nighttime than not. Yet again, Blue had found herself in trouble and had her ass saved by Z. The moment was suddenly very bittersweet and she didn’t even want to look at him anymore.

“So, I found two’a them jus’ standin’ ‘round you up here,” Z said without prompting. It seemed he understood that she would be curious, but neither was she forthcoming with her side of the story.

A cursory glance around them and Blue noticed her missing items beside him.

“I’m guessin’ y’ killed the other two before they got ya?”

Blue had to think about that for a moment before she shook her head. That had been a bad idea — her breakfast threatened to reappear.

“No,” she said, once the world stopped spinning again. “They wanted me to join them. Mm. So they said. They said they were down a man.”

As he leaned his elbows on his knees, Z made a noise of acknowledgement. They looked at each other for a moment before he said, “Wanna go burn their gally down with me?”

Blue couldn’t help a weary smile. “I’d love to.”

 

*

 

Short distance or not, sailing a galleon was a tiring task when there was only half a crew’s worth of people to do all the work. Waiting for a banana on a stone to crisp up and start a fire wasn’t tiring , just boring . Being dead was tiring. Getting the shit kicked out of you was tiring.

All of that was certainly why Blue and Z had curled up in bed together to nap after all was said and done with regarding that crew’s ship. He had come back from being dead and she was injured — they needed the rest. How they had ended up on the canvas back of the Forlorn Phoenix late that night with a crate of rum beside them was still beyond Blue. She had been sitting there, and then Z joined her, and now…

Blue leaned back on her good arm’s elbow. She was facing northeast towards the Devil’s Roar while Z was mostly facing the other way, sort of twisted so he was able to look at her. He had just said something stupid about the banjo they salvaged from the galleon, something so stupid she couldn’t remember what exactly it was through the rum, but she still grinned about it. He was amused, too.

“What?”

She shook her head. “You say the dumbest shit sometimes.”

“What, no, I don’t!”

She laughed again and he joined her a moment later. Blue wasn’t sure if he actually agreed with her or was just in too good of spirits to argue.

“We make a pretty good team, y’ know,” he said a moment later.

“That we do.” Blue glanced at him before her attention went back to watching a volcano erupt. It was so far away, out in the Devil’s Roar, though it was also the closest volcano to them. The wind blew their way and Blue absentmindedly wondered if a rogue piece of brimstone might catch a ride on it to them despite the great distance. She caught herself and laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of the thought.

“What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, nothing.” That wasn’t worth sharing. The other thoughts in her mind, though, the ones that had been plaguing her for so long now… “Why are you friends with them?”

“Huh?”

That had come out more rudely than she realised it would. Or at least, that was what Blue thought. She hadn’t been very clear, either, something that the rum was not helping, either.

She stammered, caught herself and explained: “The others. Jackson. Marcus. They and their wives and all the others. Why—” She could ask why they had accepted Edmund so easily at a later point. She cleared her throat. “… Why do you…?” She made a curious motion with the bottle of rum in her other hand.

“Oh.” Z made a thoughtful face. “I like ‘em. They’re good killers who happen t’ be married. Or not.” He shrugged and took a great big swig of rum. He read Blue’s mind while he did that: “But I don’t think that’s what y’ mean.”

Sighing, Blue said, “I’m not really sure I know what I mean.” He rose a brow at her and she continued: “You seem… You don’t seem like the social butterfly sort.”

Z shrugged. “Not really. But ev’rybody has people they like t’ be around with, don’t they? Sometimes people jus’ get along.”

Blue must have made a face because he made one of his own, a small smirk, before nudging her closest shoulder. She had her right side to him and she wasn’t sure if that nudge was as purposeful as it could have been or not, if Z had been cautious about hurting her or if he was just too drunk to nudge her as roughly as he could have. She must have still looked upset about it.

“Do I need a reason t’ want t’ be with a friend?”

That word was a funny one: friend. It could be used to describe people who were lifelong companions that treated each other better than family, or they could be people who were barely more than acquaintances and just happened to get on well with each other. Blue didn’t think she liked that word very much.

She looked at Z again, that stupid smile on his face still…

Blue sat up a little better; she ended up leaning towards him for a moment longer than intended in her shuffling and it seemed that Z took that as an indication to lean his own shoulder against hers. He had caused no harm or even an inkling of pain — not that Blue was sober enough to notice any minor pain — and had been slow and deliberate in his movement. Z never had any intention of causing her any discomfort, major or not, Blue realised. He had never intentionally done anything of the sort to her, and when he had caused her pain, like at Devil’s Ridge, that hadn’t been his intention , but rather a side effect of something else.

Blue huffed, and when he leaned into her some more, a curious expression on his face, she shook her head. “I don’t know.” She didn’t know anything, did she?

He leaned further against her and she was caught between wanting to lean back against him and striking him. Z laughed a little and she decided she definitely wanted to strike him.

“What now?”

“Y-You make this little face when y’re thinkin’.”

She blinked. About what? she wanted to ask, curious of what he thought she had on her mind. Instead, Blue decided that interpersonal relationships were very difficult. They were more than a simple give and take, she knew that, but she hated that they were things that could be affected by one’s feelings, something that could be very illogical.

Wrinkling her nose, Blue finally asked, “And what do you think I might be thinking about?”

Z shrugged. She wanted to punch that stupid smirk off his face.

“Fine. What are you thinking about?” she asked.

He seemed surprised at that. Blue thought he was being a smart ass, pretending to think hard about the question as he looked up at the sky. Then: “I’m thinkin’ that it’s a pretty nice night, t’night.”

“Oh.” She felt more or less like an asshole. Blue decided to blame that on the alcohol. In even just a moment’s retrospect she felt a little worse as she considered how little she expected out of Z. They hadn’t gotten along when they met, circumstances as they were, but later on she could have taken a step back and reintroduced herself and tried improving their relations. Z hadn’t helped his case on many occasions then, but now…

“We get on pretty well,” she said, mimicking him slightly.

It took a moment for him to pick up on that, but when he did, Z couldn’t help laughing, leaning harder on her as he almost lost his balance. That made her laugh in turn, and Blue found that she didn’t mind leaning against him some.

When they collected themselves, Blue found herself looking to the sky, taking in the faint aurora amid the unique constellations of this world. A nudge brought her gaze down and she found Z staring at her intently. He leaned towards her but her gaze went back to the sky, far across the horizon to the Devil’s Roar, a flash of red having caught her attention. Then came the sound, a voice gasping, shocked, and then;

“Free! At! LAST!”

Z twisted around so fast that he nearly knocked her over. Blue didn’t care. There was a brilliant red skull in the sky talking about his imprisonment and that just didn’t make any fucking sense.

… or maybe it did. A moment later and Blue decided that stranger things had happened in the Sea of Thieves to her alone. That didn’t knock down the strangeness of what was happening at the moment, instead increasing the strangeness of the other incidents. Really, even in the Sea of Thieves, who would believe Blue when she said she had come face-to-face with Graymarrow and survived the way she had?

On the other hand, this Captain Flameheart spoke of imprisonment, of being betrayed by his own kind — what did that even mean !? — of those who freed him and of vengeance. One phrase stood out above all else to Blue: “I have returned.”

“He’s back.”

Blue couldn’t even begin to figure out what the hell tone of voice that was from Z. Captain Flameheart’s massive visage in the sky disappeared and they were left with his message. Blue didn’t know where to start, staring at Z in bewilderment. A moment passed before his eyes came back down, thoughtfulness spreading across his face.

“Do… you … know what to make of that…?” Blue asked, feeling very small.

He made a face as though he were thinking very hard before swallowing. Z shook his head. “No, I don’t, but there might be some other people who do.”

He moved to stand and Blue latched onto him. He quirked a brow at her.

“I… I do not think I can stand to walk any distance right now.” A sizeable amount of rum had been consumed and wasn’t the only thing making Blue feel weak right now.

Z looked annoyed somehow. “That—” He stopped himself and sighed before nodding. “… We should give ‘em some time t’ get t’gether, I guess.”

Blue grunted out a small noise of acknowledgement, but she wasn’t really sure what he meant, nor what to do next. She was just aware of the fact that she hadn’t let go of him before he shifted and scooped her into his arms, standing for the both of them. Blue was certain that he’d had just as much rum as she had, if not more, so how he managed that was a perplexing thought. She kept this concern to herself as he brought them all the way down to the sloop’s bowels.

It was easy enough for Z to sit on the bed with her in his grasp. Getting situated otherwise was a more difficult problem, one that Blue didn’t even consider right away until he was bringing them both down on the bed. She slipped into her place at his side, legs awkwardly across his waist. One complained, the hip that Graymarrow had threatened to crush, so she moved it. Moving was a chore, though, so Blue lazily tangled the other leg with Z’s, finding comfort in his presence. She didn’t notice him doing anything about that, mind focused on other matters at hand.

Blue was very aware that she did not fully understand what had just happened. Did Z? She didn’t think so. He seemed more confused than she was. At least, so she thought.

For a moment, Blue couldn’t help finding some amusement in that. Z had offered to act as a guide for her when they met, and yet, here they were, once more completely baffled by something in this strange Sea. More baffling was the realisation that, despite how they had met and all the trouble he had caused her, Blue really was glad to have him at her side in the current moment of deep uncertainty that they were facing.

She thought this was all more than a little strange until she fell into the void of sleep.

 

*

 

The Sea of Thieves was full of surprises. Just when Blue thought that perhaps she and Z were on even ground, he managed to pull yet another trick out of his ass.

She had thought it strange that he had ascended to the Unicorn tavern with that old banjo in hand. Her head was pounding, though, so Blue hadn’t felt up to asking about it. She was glad when he sat down and gave the barkeep a nod after being asked about breakfast.

While they waited for their food, they sat, and neither of them said anything for a long while. Blue couldn’t help herself and gestured to the banjo resting beside him on the bench seat.

Z spoke before she needed to. “I’ll show ya after we eat.”

He had a grin on his face from that moment on, a subtle little thing that Blue couldn’t discern the reasoning for. She didn’t fret over it, focusing on her breakfast instead, eternally thankful for Tasha’s habit of keeping fresh water on hand, the sweet lady.

When they were finished eating, the time came for them to… go? Blue had been wondering what Z meant about ‘giving them time to get together,’ but she still hadn’t asked what he meant exactly and he hadn’t been forthcoming about it, either. They stood and she expected for them to go back to the ship and sail off to some place; Z, instead, stepped over to the other side of the tavern, stopped beside the rickety stairs in a somewhat open spot, and waited expectantly for her to join him. When she did, he brought the banjo into his grasp proper, as though to play it.

“What are we—”

“Y’ haven’t spoken t’ the Mysterious Stranger lately, have ya?” Z asked.

Blue was momentarily stunned, more than a little perplexed. “I had to trade the—”

“ Besides t’ sell the ‘Thena?” Z clarified. He had that dumb little grin on his face that said he knew the answer already. Blue scowled and he added a small, “Uh huh.”

She gestured to the man in the shadows. “I am sure he is pleasant company, but I do not see what the point of chit chatting …”

Blue let her voice trail off as Z began to pluck at the strings. Whatever the case, he knew what he wanted to do and nothing she had to say was going to change that. Asking what he was doing would probably result in a meaningless response like Just watch , if she had to guess.

When he found the sound he wanted, Z played the instrument properly. It was a pleasant little tune, upbeat, and… and Blue was sure she had heard those notes before, but she couldn’t pinpoint when or where that might have been.

Blue nearly threw up out of shock when the stone floor beside them slid open to reveal another set of stairs that led downward. Z saw and laughed, breaking her out of her stupor.

“ What —”

“C’mon,” he said casually, waving for her to follow as he began descending, as though everything was totally normal. Perhaps, to him, it was.

She stood there for a long moment, considering what she had just witnessed. Perhaps Z did still have plenty of secrets up his sleeve.

Swallowing bile and anxiety, she followed him down.

The way led to a… cave? It seemed like one. Before the path reached a more stony area, there was a cooking fire that hadn’t been lit for quite some time. Just past that, water pooled in a rocky area, the way seemingly ending with a waterfall, lit by bioluminescent mushrooms. She found herself dumbfounded. Worse, there was an almost musical tone to the noise produced by it, a tone that got harder to hear the harder she tried to listen to it.

Z hadn’t stopped to look at her even once as they descended, but just before the waterfall, he finally stopped, as though something had dawned on him. He finally spared a glance back at her, then shrugged with a faux expression of uncertainty, and stepped through the water.

She stared at the path before her for a long moment. Just as before when she had been faced with something that was certainly a learning lesson from Z, she figured, Why not?

There was something fucky going on. Blue wasn’t sure what it was, but once she had gone past the water, she was certain that something had happened. Though she had dipped her chin to avoid getting water on her face, she had blinked when the water hit her, a reflex she hadn’t been able to help, but it was as though she hadn’t opened her eyes immediately after. It definitely felt as though more time had passed — not a lot , but a few seconds at least.

Before her now was a pathway. It resembled a bridge, planks on the ground and railings on either side of the tunnel, but without the gap to go over. The structure didn’t go very far before the tunnel turned hard enough that nothing could be viewed further. Z stood at that corner, hands on his hips, wordlessly impatient. He could not help the smarmy grin. Blue suppressed a sigh as she approached him.

When Blue was closer to him, she started saying, “Are you going to explain—”

“Nope, c’mon,” Z said quickly, cutting her off and beginning down the path without her. Blue had to jog to get alongside him; he then added, “Y’ll see.”

There was the familiar urge to strike him. Blue refrained; Z might be annoying at times like this, but he most certainly did have something to show her. She, supposed, that she did… trust him…

The path opened up into a taller cave very quickly. The ‘bridge’ was more of a dock, she supposed as she looked into the area. If they followed it all the way down, there was a broken down galleon that they could go to.

Far more interesting was the place before it. Blue had no idea what it was, but it, too, was a galleon, one whose belly had been opened up so that… well, that part she wasn’t sure about, but there were people in it. There were tables and chairs and — and over the noise of excited chatter, Blue realised that she heard a band playing with their instruments. Not playing a song, but mucking about with their instruments all the same.

She was struggling to keep up with Z. He wasn’t walking that fast, she was just so bewildered. Blue was vaguely aware of him stopping to turn and look at her when he reached the stairs that led up into the first galleon, curious.

Now that they were closer, Blue could see that there was… a bar? At the entryway above them was a placard — more specifically, it was a ship’s crest — with a name on it: Athena’s Fortune.

Just like with Graymarrow, she had heard the name before. She had heard it less frequently than his — in fact, she couldn’t remember where she had heard it before. Or had she read it? She wasn’t sure. She was certain that she hadn’t heard of Flameheart before, though.

Blue looked to Z just before they began up the steps, asking, “What is this?”

“This is Athena’s Fortune,” he said, that stupid grin on his face stretching.

“Yes, I read the signage, thank you,” she said with some amount of bitterness. Z looked like he had to withhold laughing at her. “What is this place? What purpose does it serve?”

“I’m fuckin’ with ya,” he said, as though she didn’t already know that. Blue wanted to strike him. Continuing, Z said: “This is the Pirate Legend hideout.” When Blue gave him a quizzical look, he added, “This is the Pirate Lord’s place.”

“Oh.” That made the most sense to Blue. They had talked about him before — met him, even — and yet Blue still felt as though she knew nothing about the man.

They could have taken a path to their left; where that led, she wasn’t sure, nor was she curious enough to pry herself away from Z’s side. Instead, they passed by a few other parties and found some empty seats at the bar beside the wall it was built with one of its side against. The area wasn’t very large, though, and as she settled in the seat at the wall, Blue heard one man say, “First we hears that Graymarrow’s dead, now Flameheart’s back?”

There was something very surreal about hearing an unknown party acknowledging what she had experienced. Blue was so glad for the barkeep coming over to them.

“How old are you?”

“Jaysus, Louise, do we have t’ do this ev’ry time I come down here?” Z responded.

Blue was so stunned by the question that she wasn’t sure she had heard correctly. Then she realised that the barkeep — Louise — was looking at her, too.

“Wh— Y-Yeah, I—”

Louise leaned back from eyeing Blue so hard. “You’ve got a few grey hairs, so I guess you’re old enough t’ be down here drinkin’ with the rest’a them.”

All Blue was sure of was the absolute bewilderment that she felt. For a place filled with pirates — ran by pirates, even — that sure was… gods, she didn’t even know what to make of that. She was just glad when Louise brought them both a tankard of grog and went down to the other end of the bar to serve another woman, one dressed in bright purple, gold chains strewn about her. Blue thought she looked both incredible and ridiculous. She must have, too, if she was greying and didn’t realise it.

Returning her attention to her drink, Blue cautiously sipped it. Grog wasn’t her favourite, but this was easily the finest she had sampled in all her days. A glance at Z and she saw him do similar. With something so pleasant in the mug, she would have expected him to down it in one go.

He caught her eyeing him and shot a “What?” at her.

“I… thought you would enjoy this a little more?”

Z shook his head. “Maybe later. We’re here t’ find out what’s goin’ on, right?”

“Right.” Blue wrinkled her nose. Z was normally far more careless, reckless and impulsive. Or was it that he was carefree ? She supposed that might have been more apt. A moment later and she realised he was looking at her still. She shook her head a little. “I— No, you are right. Getting drunk would do us no good.”

Blue reminded herself that they were here, essentially, to gather information. Lowering her inhibitions at all now seemed like a bad idea and she was ashamed for having felt so relaxed here. Z had said this was where Pirate Legends came — surely good times were had here. Perhaps not at the moment, but—

“You got yer dagger, right?” Z asked quietly after leaning towards her.

She responded simply, mimicking his volume, “Always.”

Now it occurred to her that while there was a banjo on his back, Z still carried a cutlass. She hadn’t thought anything of it — most everyone carried one at all times in the Sea of Thieves, she had noticed — but the people here… they were armed. There were instruments strewn about everywhere, sure, but they were still armed.

“… Do I need to be prepared to use it?”

Z shrugged and rolled his shoulders some. “Just in case. Y’ never know when somebody’s gonna get a clever idea down here.”

“Surely fighting is frowned upon—”

“Maybe, but it’s allowed.”

“Surely not!”

He shrugged again, and Blue detected some amusement. “It keeps things in’erestin’ down here.”

Blue sighed and shook her head. No, it seemed she was not going to be drinking at all now.

What exactly they were doing down in Athena’s Fortune was something that Blue wasn’t sure of for a while. She did not take Z to be the type to be particularly covert, but that seemed to be the idea. When he moved his chair closer to hers and they were shoulder-to-shoulder and quiet still, she decided that was precisely the idea.

She never thought she would be doing this alongside him. Blue was no stranger to being sneaky, spying on people from across tables, but it had always been a lonely task. She really had not given Z enough credit.

An old man was complaining about the rumours of Graymarrow’s death, speaking as though it were all false. Blue wasn’t sure if she was annoyed or not by that, but she was certain of the perplexity she felt. She could stand up right now, show her face and shoulder to the crowd and tell them all about their battle and what led up to it — but still, some might not believe her, she knew. Even with all the pieces before them, they may choose to think otherwise.

Others, too, spoke of Graymarrow or the crew who slew him in passing. For many, this was the first time they had gathered to speak of it. Blue found this all very curious. They spoke of other things, too, of their own exploits and failures. Occasionally, someone tried to bring up Flameheart, but no one seemed willing to talk about him in earnest yet.

At one point, Blue looked to Z. She wasn’t sure how he had dealt with such a large horde of skeletons being sicced on him, but he had, and just in time to save her hide, too.

He noticed her gaze and looked back, an eyebrow quirked. Before he could speak, someone else did.

“Enough chit-chat!” an older man hollered, coming to stand on a table. After twisting around in her seat for a better view, Blue found that she quite appreciated that. Something about him being so high up spoke to her. He paused to look around the area. “I ain’t seen a gatherin’ like this in years. We all know why we’re here.”

“It’s ‘cause’a that Flameheart!” someone with a vaguely feminine voice shouted from the far side. The crowd uttered their agreements.

“I think it’s kind of funny,” a woman said, gesturing with her hook hand, “that Flameheart’s come back just after all these whisperings of the Shores of Gold and Graymarrow and the Fort of the Damned.” Those around her muttered their agreements. “How do we know it isn’t all connected?”

“What if it is?” the man on the table said.

Blue was having a hard time focusing until she pinpointed where her mind was going: Stitcher Jim. When they had found him and his beloved on Castaway Isle, he had told them of Old Boot, about how it was twisted into Fort of the Damned and a ritual could be performed to stop it. He had definitely been lying.

Somehow, Blue didn’t think she ought to mention it.

In the moments she had spent retreated in her mind, the crowd had become somewhat rowdy. Some were shouting about how Graymarrow death was awfully conveniently timed before Fort of the Damned and Flameheart. Some were trying to convey their distress of Flameheart’s return while others were fighting to understand who he was in the first place. Someone decided to point out one woman’s lack of knowledge with particular savagery and a sword was drawn.

Blue and Z happened to look at each other at the same time.

“I am unsure that we are going to learn anything useful here,” Blue said quietly, so very glad they were tucked away into a corner.

“Same,” Z said simply. Blue wondered if he wanted to join the fray for no reason other than because he could. He asked, “Y’ wanna get out of here?”

She sighed. “Has this truly been a waste of our time?”

Z brought a hand up to this chin and his eyes went to the side, where another path lay. He looked at Blue a moment later and she nodded.

They stood and carefully, they darted to the path they had gone by originally. Surrounding a table was a group of three pirates. There was one chair, on the far side of the table, and in it sat the Pirate Lord.

Why didn’t they just come to him in the first place?!

Blue wanted to strike something. Someone? Probably Z. She refrained and remained standing politely. Z stepped forward with a casual wave, stopping when the pirates already there turned to him, some of their hands going to their weapons.

“We were here first, mate,” one man said sternly.

Z had raised his hands apologetically, but he couldn’t help grinning, scoffing, clearly not taking them seriously. Blue stepped up beside him.

“We have no interest in fighting,” she said quickly, fighting to keep her tone gentle. When only curious looks were shot at her, she continued, saying, “We, too, are looking for information regarding Captain Flameheart’s return.”

All moved to respond, but the Pirate Lord was the quickest, leaning forward. “I’m afraid I haven’t much to give.” When the entirely room was shocked, he continued: “It’s only been a day since his grand return . I have already sent able-bodied pirates to seek information on my behalf—”

“No way y’re surprised by this,” Z shot with harsh accusation. Blue was astonished when the Pirate Lord didn’t take offence to his words.

“What is it you want to know?”

Z held his hands up as if to say Isn’t it obvious? He sputtered a little, as though he didn’t think that he would get his far, so Blue spoke up.

“How is he back?”

The Pirate Lord shook his head. “That I do not know. Yet. I aim to uncover all the mystery—” He stopped himself when Z scoffed, spun on his heel and made his way out of the room.

All eyes had gone to Z when he did that. When Blue looked back at that side of the room, all eyes went to the Pirate Lord. She was torn between staying, asking the burning question, Who is Flameheart? but Z’s reaction was so distressing. She could, she realised, come back later when those questions could be answered with more certainty.

Everything had become so complicated.

Decisively, Blue politely nodded to everyone in the room before she turned and left.

Chapter 48: Lingering, Festering

Summary:

The Seas are changing, and so it seems, too, are things changing for Z’s little rag-tag crew.

Notes:

Apologies for the lateness — I was sick this morning and spaced this update…

They were sitting on a bed in a galleon that wasn’t theirs. Those crewing it had seen the Forlorn Phoenix and thought they would have themselves an easy fight. Blue and Z proved them quite wrong.

That wasn’t to say they had come out of the encounter unscathed. The ship had required some repairs during the fight, planks nailed to the hull where it had been broken by cannonballs, and it still required some tending. Ultimately, a shipwright’s services were needed, but she was still sea-worthy.

Z’s wounds were nothing compared to Blue’s. She had taken a hit to the head and while she had avoided being stabbed in the side, there was still a very nasty cut along her side. They both agreed that she shouldn’t be boarding enemy vessels after that.

Z looked over at Blue and grabbed her by the crook of her good arm. Her head jerked up and he smirked. “Careful, now, y’re lookin’ like y’re ‘bout t’ fall over.”

Blue surprised him by huffing, yanking her arm away and letting herself fall onto her injured side. He supposed that meant that she no longer had to hold her balled up jacket against her side, but it didn’t sit right with him. He pocketed the orb that had been dropped by one of the crewmen, a tiny fire raging inside of it, and stood up so he could stand before her.

“So that’s it? Y’ just wanna lay down and die?”

“I am quite woozy.”

Z rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna go grab y’ a mango and the stuff to patch y’ up,” he said sternly.

When he returned with the things he said he would bring back, he was pleasantly surprised to find that Blue was still on the bed, albeit rolled onto her back. There was a table beside it that he was able to set everything on so he could open up the sewing kit and prepare everything. Blue made a noise as he did so he looked at her.

“Do you still have it?”

“Have?— oh.” He pulled the firebomb out of his pocket and when he offered it to her, she accepted it. Z didn’t mind — observing it seemed to keep her alert.

“I have never seen one of these before.”

“Me, neither.”

Z reached over. He could patch up someone’s injuries just fine, though not nearly as well as she could, and he wasn’t even about to offer to try to mend the giant slash in her vest. It still weirded him out some that it was all she wore as an under-layer nowl he supposed it was comfortable enough for her. He was more bewildered by her continued flippancy regarding the display of so much of her skin, she not batting any eye as he removed the fabric. And her tits. Upon second thought, that was probably the stranger thing, what with how shy she had been before. That had seemed very lady-typical of her, Z thought. And now she wasn’t. He wasn’t sure what to make of that.

He ignored the urge to grab one and make a funny noise. Blue would not be appreciative. Apparently, though, he hadn’t ignored it fast enough to avoid making a face as she was now looking at him with a quirked brow…

“What?”

“What?”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

He shook his head, chuckling. “We need t’ stop gettin’ in these situations.”

“What situations?” she shot. “The situations where we must fight for our lives and all we have? That seems to be the norm here. Are you not used to it?”

Z snorted and nearly stabbed his finger with the needle. “ I think it’s pretty fun. Y’re the one I thought didn’t like it.”

She stared at the firebomb in her hand long enough that Z thought she had nothing more to say. Then; “It is not that.”

Z gave a small sigh. “Well, y’ fought pretty well.”

“Not well enough, it seems.”

He shrugged. “We’re both still breathin’ and I can patch y’ up. That seems pretty damn good t’ me.”

She gave him a dismissive grunt. Z decided he didn’t feel like fighting over her perceived uselessness and instead slipped a hand underneath her lower back. She made a noise of surprise, wiggled a little, and he brought her dagger out from under her. He removed the weapon itself from its sheath and offered her the leather to bite down on.

“ Surely there is a supply of alcohol on this ship—”

“Maybe, but I don’t think y’ really have the time fer me t’ search every nook ‘n’ cranny fer it. Y’ve about changed the colour of this ship with all the blood y’ve lost.” The last part was said with some amusement.

If her eye rolling was anything to go by, Blue thought less of it all. She wordlessly took the sheath from him and bit down.

Z hadn’t patched someone up in quite a while, but he still remembered the motions and made decent work of the injury. He wasn’t sure what all he saw in it, if it had gone through the deepest layers of skin and that insides were threatening to become outsides or what.

By the time he was finished, which hadn’t taken that long to get to, Blue had one hand on her forehead, and the other pressed the firebomb to her chest, the knuckles of both hands going white from the tension in her grip. He hadn’t noticed the tears until he had cleaned up and offered her the mango, she refusing it.

… The thought came back to him and Z supposed she couldn’t possibly feel any worse than she already did.

There was a long moment where Blue did nothing after flinching, her eyes having shot open to stare at the ceiling. When she looked to him, he got ready, and when she opened her mouth — no doubt to yell at him — he shoved the mango between her teeth and hurried out of the cabin, biting the inside of his cheek so he didn’t laugh out loud.

 

*

 

To even try to buy a galleon had been a dumb idea, Z decided, especially when he and Blue had been able to take down one’s crew on their own. Of course, keeping it when it was just the two of them meant that there was one person per ship until they made it… somewhere.

But until then, Blue had required some convincing that she was capable of sailing the sloop on her own. Part of that included a shorter sail to the nearest island, which happened to be I-12.

And boy was that a treat.

Even from a distance, one could see that something was happening there. There were the makings of a tall structure, lanterns of greens and blues and reds hung from it. When they reconvened on the furthest western part of the island, Blue had described it as festive to him.

There was a sheer drop where they had stopped. For the galleon, it was an easy hop over. Blue preferred to climb from the sloop to the galleon and then to the island to avoid getting wet right away. While she did that, Z took note of the grave site. He had seen it before, but in the dark light of an overcast day, he could see that the flowers about it gave off light. It was quite peculiar, and if Blue’s expression was anything to go by, she agreed. They looked at each other before Z simply shrugged and made to cross the water that separated the two landmasses, much to her displeasure.

At the highest point of the eastern landmass, which was not very high at all, a structure was taking shape. Sand had been dug out to make room for brick foundation, from which long beams of wood jutted out. This was a more proper building than most on the Sea of Thieves were, built with more suitable lumber than was typical, much more like that of an outpost’s buildings. And yet, somehow, Z got the feeling this was very much unlike an outpost.

In the midst of it all, standing underneath the repurposed crow’s nest of a galleon, was someone he recognised.

Blue spoke first: “What brings you here?”

They were regarded with a curious gaze past something held dearly in her arms. “What brings you here to me with empty hands?” was shot back at them.

Blue looked dumbfounded. Z asked the easy question: “What are we ‘spose t’ be bringin’?”

“Gifts.” She looked at them for a moment longer, then back down to the parchment in her hand. A paintbrush was pressed to it. Blue and Z looked to each other for a moment, then back to the Masked Stranger. She looked back up, saying, “Speak with my— … beloved. He wishes to prove himself,” and then back to her parchment.

Z got the hint. Blue made a curious noise before she turned and started back to the ships. Z lingered for a moment to stare at the mysterious woman, scrutinising, before he followed.

 

*

 

“How long’s it been since we were at an outpost?” Z asked.

“A number of weeks,” Blue said. She stole a bit of bacon from his plate that was lacking in fat. “I could go through the book and find out exactly how long it has been—”

“Not right now,” he said, shaking his head. “It can wait.”

Blue made a noise of acknowledgement before stealing another morsel of food from his plate. Z didn’t particularly care, his attention going back to the bar. Leaning against it was Stitcher Jim, talking to another pirate.

Duke, the best Bilge Rat representative, had taken off to investigate some skeleton activity just after Flameheart’s return, and in his stead he had left Stitcher Jim in charge of outpost business. That was ridiculous, but Z had no proof that the twig of a man was up to no good — he just knew it. He couldn’t prove it, but damn it, he knew it .

Z did not doubt that a ship — perhaps even many ships — had tried to come through the Shroud and sunk. He did not doubt that it was laden with gifts . What he doubted was Stitcher Jim and his beloved’s intentions. Jim was asking for these things to be delivered to her at I-12, an island she apparently referred to as The Reaper’s Hideout now. Doubloons would be exchanged for those gifts, just as they would be for Ashen Tomes. Jim was asking for those, these little books that could be found in special locked Ashen Chests. Blue had sold the ones they had taken from the galleon crew before Z could really look at them, and he couldn’t fault her for that, but he so wished he could have taken a look. With them being hoarded by Skeleton Lords, he didn’t think they held much chance of procuring any on their own. Sure, those Lords would certainly be nothing compared to Graymarrow or the Gold Hoarder, but that was still two more Skeleton Lords than he had ever wanted to have to fight.

“This all reeks,” he said as they walked down one of the many rickety bridges of Golden Sands Outpost much later in the day. Blue looked at him curiously. “Ashen Chests, gifts, Flameheart?”

She shrugged at him, one of the largest shrugs he had seen in quite some time from her. Her injured arm came down slower than the other. “I am unsure of what you want from me. I know nothing of this.”

“Same.” He took a breath in and held it as long as he could. A thought occurred to him. “Hey, ‘member when we split up that first time?” Blue gave him a look but nodded nonetheless. “Well, me an’ Jack got int’ all kinds’a trouble, but…”

Z looked up and scanned the horizon until he, thankfully, spotted one. He pointed at the spiralling pillar of red and green light. “Y’ve noticed those before, right?” Blue nodded and he continued: “Well, at the bottom’a that is a Reaper’s Chest. Before y’ ask me what’s in it, I dunno. But they’re in shipwrecks. Only in shipwrecks.”

“Ah.” Blue visibly pondered his words. “So you think that these Reaper’s Chests are connected to everything else? The gifts and Ashen Tomes?”

As though to say, It sure seems like it, Z shrugged at her. Blue gave him a tiny shrug in response.

“I cannot say for certain if they are or are not. I cannot guess if they are.” Blue paused. “I will say that I am quite tired.”

“That’s fair,” Z said, deciding the matter wasn’t worth pushing at the moment.

He forced the matter to leave his mind as they walked, knowing full well that despite having two beds available to them, one rather spacious, even, they were going to end up together in the belly of the sloop, and he took some comfort in that.

 

*

 

“I don’t understand how you do this.”

Jackson blinked. “W-Wh— Do what?”

“Show up.”

Blue looked and sounded kind of mad, but at the same time not really . There was probably a word for how he thought she felt, but it didn’t matter that much; Z just laughed. Jack and Mark got the hint and added in their own chuckles and whatnot when Blue sat and calmed down.

“I do not understand, but it is very convenient.”

“That’s the Sea’a Thieves for ya,” Z said.

They had only been at Sanctuary Outpost for a day when a brigantine had showed up on the horizon. Z had a good feeling the moment he saw it and he had been correct, much to Blue’s annoyance and his own schadenfreude.

They spent a good day talking about everything. Jackson and Marcus were quite aware of the current on-goings, of the Ashen Chests and the gifts and the Reaper’s Hideout. They, too, found the potential connection between Flameheart and everything happening to be perplexing, but neither could they say for sure whether or not Z was right. He knew he was and that was all that mattered — everyone else was just a little behind, but that was fine.

Delight had been expressed with the reveal that the galleon was theirs. It seemed that the previous crew had totally given the ship up for he had not had to deal with any reappearances of them while wrestling with it from island to island. Two more hands would make that so much easier. And yet…

“I suppose you want to leave the sloop here,” Blue said.

“Uh huh.” Z didn’t even try to hide his smirk.

“I suppose we can do that.”

She tapped at the table with a finger and Z didn’t even care, too giddy to hear that they could do that, though also careful enough to not show that giddiness.

“But what do you suggest that we do with the galleon exactly?”

“Oh, oh! I know!” Jackson interjected. “If the Masked Stranger’s looking t’ takin’ in gifts, we could patrol nearby and steal ‘em!”

“We would have the firepower for that,” Marcus said.

Blue rose a brow. Z spoke before she could: “If we’re in the waters near the Reaper’s Hideout, all the gifts are basic’ly bein’ brought t’ us. A gally’s fast, sure, and we could look for our own, but why—”

“You do not need to convince me,” she said, holding a hand up. It was Z’s turn to be stumped. Blue added, “My concern is what we do with everything else we may accumulate.”

“Oh.”

“Well,” Marcus started, a thoughtful look on his face, “I guess we’d just have to go over to Golden Sands for ‘em.”

Blue made a face, then said, “I suppose it depends on how much looting there is to be had.” She paused and then nodded to herself. She regarded the men for a moment and asked, “Does anyone have any concerns?”

“How’s your arm?” Jackson asked.

“Fine,” Blue said. Z could hear her forcing herself to not be rude to him. Marcus might have also picked up on that, but Jackson seemed oblivious and only gave her an affirmative response.

He took a breath in, catching everyone’s attention. Z said, “Whatever worries we might all have, we’re still stronger t’gether.”

 

*

 

They stopped at Lonely Isle. No one was eager to stop at a skeleton fortress, active or not, not when it wasn’t necessary. A short sail had also been a good way to test out everyone’s ability to work the larger ship, too. All of them were able to do just about anything on the ship to some degree, but some were best at one thing or otherwise more suited to certain work.

At one point, Jackson had asked Blue to take over the wheel for him for a short time, but it was long enough for her to begin a love affair with it. It would still be some time before she could become intrinsically skilled with the galleon’s wheel, before she would be used to the way the wind and waves exactly affected the ship’s trajectory, but she was learning fast. Jackson had a penchant for personally going over to enemy ships and that work did not agree with a helmsman’s work and position on the ship anyway. Z found that he was quite happy with the way this had happened.

The matter of the sleeping arrangements on the galleon were one that didn’t come up right away. Z had kept that concern to himself, and so did Blue, who he was sure was fretting over it despite the obvious answer. At least, he thought it was obvious how they would delegate sleeping spaces.

Jackson had declared exhaustion; everyone agreed that they, too, were tired. Jackson, though, was apparently quite serious as he dipped down to the lowest deck of the galleon right after making that statement. Marcus wasn’t so tired as to skip food, and Blue always wanted to tend to her books before sleeping when she wasn’t exhausted.

They had all agreed that Blue should take the cabin. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, Z knew, though he didn’t care — that wasn’t why he had agreed to it. She needed the bed. She would also be the only one to make any use of the desk and bookkeeping materials left behind by the last crew aboard the ship.

An uneasiness had gripped him that evening. Some time had been spent meandering about downstairs with the other two men. Those two had climbed into their hammocks on separate sides of the ship and found sleep easily. Anxiety saw Z pacing for a time until he finally ascended to the main-deck. He could spy the lantern and chandelier still lit in the cabin through the window on the door and that gave him the courage to approach it, courage which he found to be rather strange. Why did he need that? He just wanted to check on her, to check and see if their usual sleeping arrangements were being upheld.

He just wanted to sleep with her.

And Z knew damned well that wasn’t the most innocent thing between two people — particularly between a man and a woman, according to most — and yet… perhaps there was a good reason his mind was racing.

Muffled through the door came, “Are you coming in or not?”

Z flinched before catching himself and entering the cabin, shutting the door behind him. Blue gave him a quizzical look before her expression changed to something more certain, certain of what he was unsure of himself, and then she buried her head back into the book.

“Hammocks do not agree with you anymore, do they?”

Z didn’t like how spot on she was but only grunted in response. He was very glad when she left the quill in the inkwell and came to sit on the edge of the bed a moment later with him. They sat there in silence while they removed their boots, and sat there a bit longer until Blue stared at him until he realised that she was waiting for him to lie down first. Once he did, she curled up against him, just like usual.

“They are bound to ask, you know.”

He grunted at her. She was right, they would ask, but — “Only if they notice.”

She made some sort of noise. Amusement? He wasn’t sure; perhaps he was hopeful.

“What, do you plan to wait until they are both asleep before you come scurrying in and leave without being seen?”

“Maybe.”

“And when you are caught—”

“I won’t be.”

She harrumphed at him and let the matter be, but the idea had already taken root in Z’s mind: what were they supposed to tell the others?

 

*

 

“Duke does that every now and then ‘round this time’a year. I guess Jim’s keepin’ up the tradition?”

Blue looked unconvinced but didn’t smite him for his tone. She looked at the scroll in her hand, rolling it between her fingertips as she considered it. “It seems that way,” she said.

The idea to take on Jackson’s legendary gilded voyage had been tossed about. Duke always gave those out during this time of year as a gift, he would say. Z always thought that funny.

“Y’ know, we could go do that, or we could hang ‘round the Reaper’s Hideout and see if anybody else is doin’ any legend’ries.”

Blue gave him a quizzical look and Z couldn’t help a smirk.

“So the thing with those gildeds? They’re all the same. They all take y’ t’ the same places. Legend’ries take their runners t’ Crook’s Hollow and Lone Cove.”

She gave him a look. “And then?”

“Eh, it takes y’ somewhere ,” Z huffed. “The final island’s not always the same.” He quickly added: “B-But that’s the only time it ain’t! The only voyage, too!”

She looked unconvinced, and yet she said, more a statement than a question, “And the proposal here is that we go hunt crews doing these voyages?”

The three men nodded to her.

“It ain’t like they go bad,” Jackson said. “We do ours later in the year when things have been quiet for a while when we need some money.”

“I suppose it is not like they spoil like a fruit,” Blue murmured.

That was a funny idea. No, the only caveat with Duke’s gilded voyages was that he only gave you one for the year, period.

“But yeah, that’s the idea,” Marcus said. “We could… oh, we could stay at the Sea Dog Tavern and watch the horizon to see what ships are doing what.”

“Yeah!” Jackson chimed in. “There’s a crazy view from the top’a the tavern! You guys gotta see it.”

Blue looked to Z and gave him a lop-sided shrug. “I need no further convincing.”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help a chuckle.

 

*

 

The blue galleon was really shooting the shit out of the green one. All three of its masts were cracked and broken, its sails torn. Its anchor had probably been dropped by that point, too. It didn’t sink, however, its attacker only targeting its upper decks.

“Apparently, in a proper competition, they get points for every cannonball they land on their enemy’s ship,” Blue had explained to them when Jackson expressed a lack of understanding.

As far as Z cared, the Arena rules sucked. No curseshot or gunpowder kegs? He was surprised they hadn’t said that firebombs were disallowed when they asked about them. Then again, those were too new for the representative of the Sea Dogs that they spoke with to know if they were allowed in the competition, but that itself was funny in an annoying way to him — how did a rep not know?

The whole thing was funny to Z. They may have said they loved competition and glory, but it sure came with a lot of ‘buts.’

“I’d hate to be in their boots,” Jackson commented.

From the very top of the Glorious Sea Dog Tavern, they could see so much . Hell, even without having climbed to the top of the building, its floor was so high up on the rock that the view was incredible. The view of the little spat between two competing teams on their given ships was just the closest thing to them.

Blue took a deep breath in. She held it so long, but then she said, “This seems incredibly unsporting.” She was quiet for a moment, long enough that Marcus moved as though to say something, but she spoke first, adding, “They may be following their Company’s rules for engagement amongst each other to earn their points by technicality, but this is…” She shook her head. “I am uncertain if they may earn any points from this.”

“Yeah, it just kinda seems like they’re beatin’ the shit outta them,” Z interjected. Everyone agreed with that sentiment.

“They are not technically in a sanctioned competition, either.”

“Whatever the case,” Marcus said, “I don’t really care for all their rules. Plus, one of the guys I was talking to said that they don’t earn that much. Err, eh, and there was something about silver ?”

Everyone exchanged bewildered looks.

Z said, “Nah, I don’t think so. I think we’re better off doin’ our usual huntin’ instead’a competin’ .”

Everyone agreed to that.

Notes:

… and that’s because this should be the last of the regular updates. We’ve finally caught up to everything I’ve written ahead of time and now they’ll be put up as they’re completed. I’ll still be updating Friday mornings when available, however, so that will remain. 😊

Chapter 49: Chasing Shadows

Summary:

An undermanned galleon is no warship, meaning there’s plenty of time to… meander?

Notes:

This is going up a bit later than I would normally post an update, but technically it’s still Friday for me! ;P

This chapter name could very possibly change, so if you think weeks/months down the line that it was different, it may very well have been.

Heads up that there are two new (warning) tags: conversations about religion and Discussion of Death. If you follow my Tumblr, you’ll know that this was coming, but to make a short rambling shorter, I toyed around with these ideas a ton in the earlier days of DYTSHF’s planning, where they would have played a much larger role. Now, it’s more of what I would consider… typical?

Marcus had died first, a stray cannonball obliterating his physical form. Jackson had died a few sloops after that. Z had seen him land on the deck of that sloop after launching himself from a cannon — which was quite the feat! — but then he had dashed into the mid-deck after one of the sloop’s crewmen. Even though Z had been on the main-deck firing a cannon at that sloop afterwards, he never saw Jackson come back up those stairs, nor did he surface with the treasure and debris that the ship left behind after sinking like the second sloop crewman had.

After a fortnight of fighting littler ships, Z found that he welcomed the reprieve that Blue had been hinting at. She, too, had performed well, spectacularly even. Though she had been designated helmsman, Blue was often ducking down to the lower decks to manage keeping the ship afloat, managing two jobs. Her injury meant that she favoured her left arm, but that had strengthened it considerably and she was able to haul a full bucket’s worth of water with that arm alone. She was pretty good at directly plugging the holes with planks, too.

This had meant that there had been some moments where the wheel needed to be adjusted during a fight, but so long as Blue called out where she was, what she was doing, they could send a man up to the quarter-deck to do that. She had made a comment about Z being allergic to the helm, but Jackson was quite happy to fill in for her, and if he couldn’t, Marcus readily took commands to do so.

The four of them worked so well together it was scary.

As he contemplated all of this, Z supposed leaving the zone of the Reaper’s Hideout wasn’t such a bad thing — a galleon down to half its crew wasn’t exactly the most fearsome thing in the Sea of Thieves. He may have enjoyed other people’s treasures, but the Masked Stranger was exchanging them for doubloons and those were only useful to the Bilge Rats and that somewhat tempered his interest in stealing more gifts. Then again, it was the fight for it that he truly loved.

He glanced down at Blue curled up at his side like usual and wondered what she thought of that.

Way back, Z had found Jackson and Marcus on a sloop together. He had been alone on one of his own at the time, one that had long since found the bottom of the ocean, and that had played a part in why he didn’t kill them immediately. Being outnumbered meant that situation required some finesse, so he had talked them into storming a nearby skeleton fortress with him. The plan had been to betray them, but by the end of it all, he had come to appreciate their company and spared them. It also helped that no other crews came to bother them and give him an element of chaos to take advantage of. They had parted ways at that time, but when they met again by happenstance, weeks or months later, Z took up their offer to join forces. It did take more convincing later on to get them to take the initiative and fight living pirates with him, but they had come around and grown to love it, too, even if they didn’t live for it.

Blue’s concerns about fighting others had faded. She had come to understand the benefit of fighting dirty, of letting others do the hard work and taking it from an already exhausted crew. Now… well, if he didn’t know any better, in the middle of all the fighting, Z would say that he had seen an appreciation for what they did in her eyes.

For now, though, Z supposed that he should appreciate the smaller things in life, like stretching out beside her in a decently sized bed, napping away an unseasonably warm afternoon without having to worry over being caught.

… being caught doing something was perfectly allowed, by the way.

 

*

 

Sanctuary Outpost was further away from the centre of the Sea of Thieves than Z liked, but even if they spotted something of interest, they weren’t really equipped to deal with it. Sure, they had a rowboat and that was more than enough to get them somewhere, but Z loathed rowing. Blue had also made a good point of protecting the horde of gifts that they had amassed in the lowest deck of their poached galleon. Every single one of the ships they had attacked — an assortment of more sloops than he could remember, three brigantines, and just one galleon — had gifts aboard them. Blue had a good sense of when a ship was truly heading to the Reaper’s Hideout so that kept them from intercepting ships that weren’t worth robbing, but almost all of them had also carried other loot, even if it wasn’t a lot.

Blue had made a funny observation: many of the sloops had put up better fights than the one galleon had, carried more supplies, and had more loot. The blasted thing had only one generous gift for them to take. One! But that had not surprised Z, for good galleon crews that could fight, plunder loot, and stay supplied were a rarity on the Sea. It was far easier to find two other people to crew up with and manage a much smaller brigantine than a galleon, and even easier still for someone to find just one other person that they got along with to manage a tiny sloop. When he had explained this to her, probably in far more detail than she had needed in retrospect, Blue had shown an understanding. There was, perhaps, an appreciation for what they could do as a full crew, too.

Days after that conversation, they sat on the rock that stood above the tavern, taking in the sights. There were a few ships that they could see, some so far away they were nothing but specks even in a spyglass’s lens, but nothing within a reasonable distance to row or swim to, together or just Z alone.

Blue, however, was very patient, as he had learned. He supposed that was a good thing — how else would she have managed to deal with him? — but he was growing restless at the outpost. The thought to go back to the Forlorn Phoenix and take off without Marcus and Jackson had occurred to him, but when he voiced it aloud, Blue said that such a thing would have been very rude.

For someone who didn’t like people, Blue sure cared a lot about how they felt and what they thought. To hell with ‘em , he had thought, but following that thought had been the understanding that he did like Marcus and Jackson, so it seemed that she was right this time.

Z felt like he was learning more from her than the other way around, the way it was supposed to be. Nowadays, they seemed pretty similar to each other when it came to navigating through the day-to-day trials of the Sea of Thieves. In other ways, however…

“Do you know what a dragon is?”

The question had come so out of nowhere that it momentarily stunned Z.

“Wha— Yeah, a’course I do!” he said, shaking his head. Blue didn’t look at him. “They’re… They’re a flying lizard that breathes fire.” According to some people. Some people said they were snakelike gods that brought rain. Or something. As he considered it all more and more, Z realised that there were a lot of definitions of what a dragon was. According to some people, of course.

Finally, Blue turned her head to look at him, slowly, and then she stunned him by shaking her head.

“No?—What?!” Z almost bit his tongue he was so stupefied. “What do you mean?!”

“A dragon ,” she reiterated.

“It’s a fuckin’ monster—”

“It is sort of like a demon.”

Z stopped and blinked. Dragons were like demons?

She looked at him again and they stared at each other.

“… Inner demons?” she clarified.

“Oh!” Z sat back and relaxed. “You’re… Y’re bein’…” He slowly lifted a hand to the sky, reaching for a word that wasn’t actually there as he thought.

“Metaphorical, I believe is the word you are looking for.”

“Yea, that.”

“Yes.”

To the west, the direction that Blue’s gaze had gone, one could see the Devil’s Shroud way out there. She seemed captivated and Z wondered where her mind was taking her.

Hoping that he was following her thought process, Z asked, “Do you think the Shroud slays dragons?”

She looked back at him, a brow quirked and a smirk on her face like nothing he had ever seen. She looked him up and down, still grinning, and asked, “Do you even know what you just said?”

“I think so.” Z twisted around to face the west properly. He bent his knees and wrapped his arms around them, leaning forward. He thought for a moment before starting, “A dragon— or, actually, an inner demon, yeah? Those’re, well, they’re…” He shrugged. “They’re inner demons! Y’ know what that means.” He glanced at her before looking back to the horizon. “Inner demons. They’re… they’re things we don’t like ‘bout ourselves, yeah?” He didn’t even look at her for confirmation. “They’re… bad things that we don’t like about ourselves. Sometimes somethin’ we wanna change. They ain’t good . So if y’ call ‘em dragons instead… well, dragons get slayed, right? Somethin’ like, ‘he slayed the dragon,’ right?”

“Slain and slew, but yes,” Blue said.

Z raised a brow. That was a new word and he liked it. Slew the dragon.

“So… if somebody has dragons, then they slay them, right?” He eyed her, curious if he was on the right track.

“Something like that,” she said, a slight playfulness to her tone.

Z wrinkled his nose, wondering… “Where y’ goin’ with this?” He looked from her to the Devil’s Shroud. “Y’ think the Red Sea slays dragons? O-Or keeps ‘em out?” That would make more sense regarding real dragons, he thought, but…

“Something like that,” she repeated.

Now Z wasn’t sure what was going on with her. “Whaddya mean then?”

Blue’s expression had gone back to something much more neutral, but still a whisper of a smile rested on her countenance. “Perhaps… that. When one passes through the Devil’s Shroud, from the outside world to this one, does anything happen to them?”

Z blinked. “No, I don’t…” He trailed off and looked at her again. She knew about the Shroud, that it would destroy just about anything if it touched it. So…?

“Hmm.”

She looked at him and they exchanged brief glances before finding something else to look at. She had looked back out to the sea while he found the rock they sat upon interesting. Blue was not asking about the Shroud’s destructiveness, he realised.

“I’m not very good at this, Blue,” he said. She shifted and he was sure she was giving him her full attention. “This… This poetic nonsense. I’m no good at it.” She chuckled and he found himself annoyed by that. “I’m not good with feelin’s and shit, Blue.”

“No, you’re not,” she agreed, an almost musical tone to her voice. He tilted his head to side-eye her. “But everyone has their dragons, yes? Monsters that loom over them, threatening them, but monsters that they must slay nonetheless.” A pause. “And what happens when a dragon is slain?”

He considered that before saying, “It dies and it can’t do anythin’ more?”

“Mm, you are not wrong. The threat is dealt with, yes, but dragons are also known for hoarding things. Most often, treasure .”

Z tapped his knees with just one hand. “So what does that mean for metaphorical dragons? Metaphorical Athenas?”

Blue laughed and it was so genuine he was dumbstruck.

“Yes, precisely. Metaphorical Chests of Legends.” She calmed herself before continuing: “It is… the betterment of yourself. Depending on the dragon, of course.”

Z made a noise of acknowledgement before nodding, too. A thought crossed his mind, one that Blue would certainly describe as shit bird behaviour , but he couldn’t help it.

“But what if the dragon was actually one’a those rain dragons?”

It took her a moment to understand what he was talking about and she chuckled. “Well, the eastern dragons of the heavens are quite benevolent. One gracing us with its presence would be quite a boon to our little gang, yes?”

They both laughed, and soon after Z found himself wondering what exactly had prompted this conversation. She had started by asking if he knew what a dragon was, but why ?

“So do you…” He shrugged. “Wanna make yourself better or somethin’?”

“Something like that.”

Despite all the words they said, Z still wasn’t quite sure what was going on. Blue, he decided, had herself some dragons that needed slaying. He wondered if perhaps it wasn’t the Devil’s Shroud that had captivated her so much as it was what was on the other side of it. Something had happened to her to give her all those scars and make her such a hard-ass, and if he had met her so soon after her crossing, it must have happened on the other side.

Some time had passed when she leaned her shoulder against his. He looked at her for a moment before leaning back against her.

He supposed that he didn’t really need to know.

 

*

 

Z was so glad that Marcus and Jackson had slept the rest of the night instead of exploring and finding him and Blue curled up together in the cabin. Why, precisely, eluded him still.

When they had originally convened on the main-deck of the galleon for the first time after the pair’s return to the world of the living, Z had spotted Blue and Marcus eyeing each other while Jackson filled them in on their meeting with Rylund on the Ferry of the Damned . He wasn’t the best at understanding body language, especially when it didn’t involve reading someone’s fear to know how to wrench their money and treasure out of their possession, so he was wholly confounded by what he had seen. Blue and Marcus didn’t exchange any words in that meeting, but both their expressions and what their eyes focused on had shifted when they noticed his attention. Marcus even had a tiny little grin on his face that made things all the more curious.

Z almost asked about it.

As for Rylund, it seemed he was interested in joining the group for a time. He and his lady had an argument and wanted some time apart. Their relationship seemed a bit strange to Z, what with their frequent fights yet his infrequent opportunities to join up with whatever groups the coalition had at the time. Before they could do that, though, they would need to head down to Golden Sands Outpost to sell their Bilge Rat goods to Stitcher Jim. Another run to the Reaper’s Hideout was also due, as Blue had forgotten about a Generous Gift she had stashed away in the cabin, For good luck , she had said.

Everything was a little confusing as of late, Z decided.

With all crew members accounted for and a fill-in supposedly ready, the men could manage the galleon and Blue could sail the sloop on her own. Supposedly.

“I am not against this.”

Blue surprised everyone with that declaration.

“Really?” Z asked with a tilted head.

“Really,” she assured. “The galleon requires many hands to sail properly — the sloop requires one set.” She paused, then: “Even half a set is capable of sailing it.”

Jackson seemed afraid to laugh at that until Z allowed himself something of a chuckle. That was fucked up — in a funny way, of course — but he decided that saying it wasn’t worth potentially upsetting Blue.

“Yea, I guess so,” he said.

Blue nodded and continued: “It is a fine plan, then. We will go to Golden Sands, the Reaper’s Hideout, and then convene with Rylund at Plunder Outpost?”

“That’s where he said he’d be,” Jackson said. He paused and then asked, “Are ya still gonna be sleeping in the gally’s cabin while we do that?”

Blue considered his words for a moment. “I suppose I will, should none of you mind. I have grown rather fond of the space.”

Marcus grinned a little too widely for Z’s liking, saying, “That’s absolutely fine.”

Jackson chirped his agreement and Z simply nodded.

 

*

 

Z had been splayed out on the cabin bed for a while. Blue was in the desk’s chair working on something. Her love of letters was something that eluded his understanding, but that was fine — something else, things more important, bothered him.

“Hey,” he started, sitting up and making sure he had her full attention. Once Blue lifted her head to look at him, Z continued: “Are you… happy with, like, usin’ the cabin even though y’re sailin’ the sloop?” He paused when she didn’t give any clear response. “With everythin’, I guess?”

She quirked a brow ever so slightly. “That is… quite a heavy question, is it not?”

He almost said Yeah, it is, then caught himself, then caught himself again, stammering like a fool. No, she was right. That could be considered quite a loaded question.

“I… I guess? I jus’… wanted t’ make sure y’ were comfy, I s’pose.”

She gave him a side-eyed look that he wasn’t sure what to make of before going back to her papers. “You look more comfy there than I have been.”

He frowned at that. Why? he wanted to ask. She spoke again.

“You are more deserving of it, anyhow. It suits you.”

“ Huh ?” He didn’t disagree, but that they were on the same page about that was… alarming. “Whaddya mean by that?”

“It means that we are all here because of you, correct? You… befriended Marcus and Jackson at some point and decided to stay in touch with them as well as you are able to with your lonely nomadic lifestyle out here. You decided to do the same with me. I am not precisely certain why.”

Blue paused in all of her words to eye him, her expression so stern he couldn’t deduce what she might have been feeling. He was feeling rather vulnerable at the moment, and oh how did he hate when she did this sort of thing.

“Whatever your reasons” — he hated that she said that — “you have managed to scrape together a relatively tight-knit gang of like-minded people.” Blue looked at him for a moment. “I am not sure you did it on purpose, because if you had, that would suggest that you had some sort of reason to do so. That you did not greedily claim a proper captain’s role and possessions when we populated this galleon makes me think you did not. You are not so humble that I believe you would refuse to do so out of the goodness of your heart.”

“ What —?!”

They stared at each other for a long moment before Z looked away, shook his head and looked back to her. “All I did was ask if you were happy!”

Blue shrugged. “I am as content as I can be with the strange accommodations.”

He stared hard at her. What was she on about? He didn’t disagree that he was more ‘deserving’ of the stuff that would go to a captain, his ego demanded that he feel that way, but he wasn’t entirely sure he ought to be called captain. And worse still was the way Blue was talking. She was only so comfortable and apparently thought everything was weird.

“All right,” he started, considering the matter. “What is… what’s not right?”

Blue had propped her elbows on the edge of the desk and was fiddling with a quill in her hands. She paused and gave him a dirty look when he spoke before continuing for a moment.

“I am not a fool. As much as you or anyone else may enjoy my company , as you will say, there is no denying that my presence is very much a problem for you.”

“Y’re doin’ good on the wheel and bucketin’ water jus’ fine with yer arm—”

“The arm which makes me a burden and a liability , Z.”

There was so much vitriol in her voice that he was stunned. For someone with such an ego — so he had thought — Blue sure was talking down about herself. Worse was that he knew there was a bitter truth to what she said, and yet… well, he didn’t care what the others thought, he liked having her around.

“Sure,” he started, knowing it would be pointless to try to convince Blue otherwise; “but every time you open yer mouth, y’ know what y’re talkin’ about. Y’ make me think ‘bout things in ways I never would on me own, y’ make me laugh and whenever y’ have a plan, it’s a good one, and when y’ don’t know what y’re talkin’ ‘bout, y’ say so.”

Blue looked unimpressed. Z wasn’t sure if he was making his thoughts clear enough, but he wasn’t sure what he himself wanted to say, only knowing that he hated that she felt the way she did.

He stood and made his way over to the desk, taking a seat on the corner at her right side. Raising both hands with the palms held upwards, he mimicked a balancing scale.

“Y’re not wrong. Y’ got some…” He made a face and shrugged. “… some issues? There’s truth t’ that, but that doesn’t mean y’re a burden or a liability .” He wasn’t actually quite sure what a liability was. Pretty sure, though not totally. Z thought he understood well enough to not make a fool of himself. He made a face that kept her from speaking before he did. “An’ even if y’ think y’ are, you got good stuff ‘bout yerself that more than makes up fer it.”

A thought occurred to him, one that he almost couldn’t help smirking at.

“Besides, if what y’re gettin’ at’s that I’m the captain’a this crew, then what I say goes, yeah? And what I say is that y’ get t’ stay as long as y’ like and anybody that don’t like it can fuck off.”

She gave him a sort of huffed out scoff that he thought might have been her trying not to laugh. He hoped it was. Blue looked away from him back to her papers, as though trying to ignore him, but she looked back to him a moment later. She opened her mouth to say something and there was a knock at the door. Z sat up more properly. He had also felt a need to go flying off the desk and sit or stand anywhere else, but he was not doing anything wrong and thus refused to act on that impulse.

“The door is open,” Blue called, her voice alarmingly sturdy for how stressed she had just sounded.

Z twisted around to see Marcus poke his head in and somehow he felt more uncomfortable. Marcus didn’t give them any weird looks or say anything — yet — but Z was so certain that Marcus knew something was up between them.

… something of which Z refused to label, ignoring the churning in his gut.

“I finished making some stew a while ago,” Marcus stated.

Z was suddenly aware of the emptiness of his stomach. So that was all it was.

“Oh.” Blue tilted her head slightly. “I apologise for not coming down—”

“No, no, it’s fine! It’s just getting late and Jack’s been, uh—”

It seemed Blue couldn’t help a chuckle about that and it sounded genuine enough that Z relaxed more than he realised he had tensed up, quirking a brow himself.

“Food sounds good.”

Z was definitely hungry. Blue looked like it and would certainly appreciate the change of topics. He wasn’t going to let it go, though, and once they were all down in the galley and sat around the map table, he saw an opportunity to bring the matter back up.

“Say, I got a question for you two,” he said.

Very bluntly so. It wasn’t that Z was feeling brave, it was that the matter had bothered him so much .

Everyone paused and looked at him. Blue’s expression very quickly shifted to one of vague accusation. The other two men didn’t seem to notice it, but then again, they were looking at Z.

“Y’ think Blue’s a burden?”

She scowled and Z was surprised that she didn’t get up and leave. Or smack him. Marcus and Jackson, however, flinched outwardly and looked at each other with abject confusion before their attention went all over the table.

“What? No!” Jackson spat. “Why would you think that?”

Marcus seemed to be wondering the same thing if his cautious eyeing of Z was anything to go by.

“Ah, y’ know,” Z started, shrugging as though it were a simple matter; “what with her arm being all messed up an’ whatnot.”

“Yeah?” Jackson asked, droning the word on without certainty. Then he shook his head and said, “No? Not really?”

“We’ve all seen her bringing buckets of water up out of this gally,” Marcus said. “And she’s good on the wheel.” He made a face as though he was about to say more, looking between Z and Blue before deciding otherwise. He looked offended.

Jackson was a little less tactful. “What’s this about?”

Z shrugged again. “Jus’ wonderin’s all.”

The other two men did not look convinced.

“It is true, though,” Blue said, cutting through the silence. “The other galleon we fought, for example. They could not sail to save their lives — literally — but when they climbed onto our deck, I was unable to fight any of them.”

“You called ‘em out to us, though,” Jackson said quickly.

Marcus nodded. “If you didn’t know that they would abandon their ship and come to ours, we might’ve had a problem.”

Blue eyed them. “I saw all of them jump ship.”

“ Still ,” Marcus said. “If you hadn’t called them out, we might not be having this conversation.” He paused and made a face. “Why… Why are we having this conversation?”

“Yeah, I don’t get it,” Jackson said, clearly becoming distressed. “So you can’t fight the way you used to. You still held your own in all’a those fights, and you can use a cannon and turn the wheel and bucket all the Sea’s water out of the bottom of the gally.” His expression hardened. “I don’t get it.”

Blue tapped at the part of the table she sat at. Z expected her to just get up and walk away, but instead she said, “It is unimportant why. I will keep your words in mind, though.” Only then did she get up and head back upstairs to the main-deck.

Z wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. Jackson looked equally confused, and Marcus looked… curious? Z wasn’t sure. He was surprised when he stood up and looked at Jackson, gesturing downstairs.

“Hey, I got something I wanna show you.”

“Oh?” Jackson blinked. “Uhh, all right then.”

Z figured that Marcus understood that he wasn’t much in the mood for company anymore and appreciated that. He just waved them off and decided he’d be better off forcing himself to eat the rest of his stew than doing anything else right away. When he was done eating, he absconded to the forecastle. If anyone spotted him there, he wasn’t bothered and he was thankful for that, too.

By the time night had fallen, he was becoming restless about what had transpired. It just didn’t sit right with him that Blue was so convinced that she was worthless, that she downplayed any value she did offer.

He hardly recalled making his way to the door of the captain’s cabin and by that point it was too late to pretend he hadn’t, so Z cracked the door open and poked his head in. He was so glad he hadn’t pissed Blue off to the point of leaving the galleon for her sloop for the night, but he was somewhat perplexed by her laying back against pillows propped up against the headboard with a book in her hands. She waved him in and it took him a moment to react.

“What’re ya readin’?”

Blue shot him the most unimpressed look as she sat up more properly. She looked to the book instead of shooing him away, though, so he took that as a good sign and approached the bed.

“It is a very old story of a man’s journey to return home after a war and, ah, the tribulations he suffers for pissing off his deities. It was this or the breath of one.”

Z just sort of looked at her… “Oh.” … quite confused.

She looked back at him and rose a brow. “You are not a man of faith whatsoever, are you?”

He blinked. “No.”

“Mm.” She looked away from him to the cover of the now closed book in her hands and chuckled. “No, I suppose you are not, and that makes more sense than anything else in this world does.”

Z felt his expression grow stronger and she gave him a side-eyed look before patting the bed beside her. He would have to climb over her at some point if that meant that they could sleep together tonight, and if that was the case after he had put her through that dinner…

He very quickly decided to sit on the edge of the bed beside her. His curiosity had not been sated, though.

“What does that mean?”

Blue looked at him again with that look that told him it was equally likely that she would explain what she was going on about, or change the subject.

“Do you not remember the world on the other side of the Shroud?”

“I…” He considered the ways he could have responded to that and decided to just be open for once. “Yeah, I do, an’ I try not t’.”

Blue seemed to find that book cover mighty interesting, for it took a time for her to nod her head once and say, “I concur.” She looked at him, that expression still on her face, and then back to the book. “Is it… a choice you make? To be a faithless heathen?” The last question was accompanied by some amusement in her voice.

“Somethin’ like that,” Z said, a little grin of his own forming. “I spent some time with someone that was all about it. Taught me everythin’ he could ‘bout it, read a book ‘bout it to me all the time, but…” His expression hardened some. “Some of the things in that book were awful .” He paused for a moment, then quickly added, trying to keep the mood a lighter one, “Oh, and, well, a lot of it sounded fake.”

Blue chuckled. “Something like that.”

“You too?” he said, chuckling, certain that was the case and then quickly shutting up when Blue then looked so upset over the question.

“I… I do not know what to think anymore. So many people believing in the same thing… surely they were right, yes? So certain. But they always said that was their faith, their belief, their truth, as though it were a given, yet never could they prove it. But so, so many people… someone’s beliefs must be right, surely? Or so I thought. I will not say I agreed, but I was… jealous that they could so truly believe in something that could not be proved, comforted by how they believed in it.”

Blue looked at him for a moment. Z simply rose a brow at her, curious but unsure he wanted to outright ask.

“I never could. It seemed… too convenient,” she said. “But if not a heaven and a hell and their lords, then what?” She shrugged, winced at having over-moved her shoulder and quickly recovered. “Someone else? Something else entirely? … Nothing ?”

Z had a feeling he knew where she was going with this, but he stayed quiet, merely leaning forward slightly.

“The Sea of the Damned is… strange. I remember nothing of my time there save for just before the door opens for me on the Ferry , yet I get the feeling that there is still… more to it.” She shook her head. “I… it is not something I would have ever expected. I feel like I know so much about it, or-or it itself? … As I cannot put into words what that means precisely.”

“I know what y’ mean. It’s the feeling’a somethin’ that y’ jus’ can’t explain.”

Blue nodded. “… Something like that.”

They sat in silence long enough that Z thought the conversation was over. Blue then held the book in her hands up slightly.

“This one is… a story, I think. Only a story. One that happens to be about a man and powers far beyond his comprehension and his battle against them.” She paused, then nodded with certainty to herself.

Z shrugged. The whole conversation was a little weird; he felt like sharing his thoughts some. “If I die and there’s something other than the Sea of the Damned waiting fer me, I’ll be surprised. Otherwise, I’ll be dead.”

She looked at him with such a quizzical expression.

“Like… dead ‘nd be nothin’. I won’t care about bein’ dead if I can’t think, will I? If it’s nothin’, then I don’t need t’ worry ‘bout it. I won’t be hurtin’ or anythin’, will I?”

Blue stared at him so fiercely he was certain he had offended her until she slowly turned away from him, gripping the book rather firmly. “I suppose so.”

“… but?”

She found the ceiling interesting to look at for a moment before looking back to him. “It is silly, the notion of an afterlife, yet one does exist somehow. I am not sure what the Sea of the Damned is, but it only seems to exist here. It also only seems that people return from it thanks to the Ferry and nothing else, but—” She huffed and shook her head. “I do not know. I only know that I do not like the idea of not existing.”

Z couldn’t help a small shrug. “Well, what was it like before y’ were born?”

Judging by the way she side-eyed him, his train of thought seemed obvious enough to Blue. “Irrelevant,” she said. “I am now alive and aware. I don’t want that to end.” She looked away, but not at anything in particular. “It… is an unnerving concept to me. Even if you are right — how are we not like it if we were to cease existing entirely?”

Blue shook her head. She looked deeply uncomfortable and Z wasn’t sure what he could say or do about that.

“I do not like it.”

Z considered it for a moment before tilting his head at her. “I can see why. I jus’ don’t see the point in worryin’, personally.”

“That is fair, I suppose.”

They could see eye-to-eye on that. Still, though…

“I believe in what’s in front’a me, the things I can reach out an’ touch, and in the people I call crew. That’s all I need.”

Blue looked at him, one of those looks that told him that he had, somehow, said something rather profound. He stared back at her until her attention went down to the book in her hands, contemplating it, too.

“That is… I do not think that is a bad ideology, to believe in what you can directly interact with, to trust in what is truly, undoubtedly real,” Blue said, nodding. She looked to the book and nodded again.

“What about that?” Z asked, pointing to it.

“This?” She raised the book up and he nodded. Blue rose a brow. “I… suppose that it could perhaps have been considered a true story at some point. Perhaps it still is in the place it came from. I do not know. What I do know, however, is that this” — she put a hand on his shoulder — “is real and something that I can trust in.”

He rose a brow, curious, but at the same time, Z couldn’t help a small smirk.

Chapter 50: The Reason

Summary:

Blue must consider quite a lot of things about herself. Not that this is a strange thing in and of itself, but something seems… off. Then again, this is the Sea of Thieves, after all.

The first order of business before leaving Golden Sands Outpost was to exchange the few Bilge Rat goods they had picked up for doubloons and ask Stitcher Jim just what was inside of those gifts he had sent so many crews searching for. But when they had stepped into the tavern, it was instead Duke they found.

… he was not in good shape, bandages all over his body, even his face. When Blue made a comment about the note he had left behind, he seemed unaware of it. She thought it a poor idea to mention Jim after that. Duke did ask if their crew was interested in learning of Chests of Rage, but Blue simply said they were busy, running behind schedule as it was and expedited the process of being paid for their goods. She gave him a few coins for a drink to thank him for his speediness before they left, all four of them glancing at each other but too afraid to ask what the hell had happened with the Bilge Rats.

 

*

 

Blue bit the inside of her cheek as she watched the proceedings at the Forlorn Phoenix’s prow.

She stood beside the helm, peering down at everyone else. Z and Marcus and Jackson surrounded a kneeling duo from another sloop that had thought it clever to make their way towards their ships. Z had made an argument for all four of them to pile into their sloop, to make the fight so unfair there was no chance they would lose, and here they were.

The man of the two unnerved Blue the moment she had seen him crawl up her sloop’s ladder. If she were asked why, she would not be able to explain why precisely, only that everything about him reminded her of a previous time in her life.

His company… well, Blue had very mixed feelings about her, a girl who looked like she was only just a young lady. She seemed to be a victim of their circumstances, but her unwillingness to stand up for herself also made Blue’s stomach twist and turn, as much as she disliked both that itself and the way she felt about it. She could not guess their exact relationship but just then, her company had realised their situation and tried to bargain for his life by offering hers.

Blue hated being so right. She was glad, at least, that her own company had been unimpressed by this, too, though Marcus looked… off. It was easy to deduce why his jaw was clenched so tight, his hands having turned to fists, knuckles going white, so much so that it was quite impressive that he was still letting Z lead the conversation. Jackson looked like he was trying to not be upset while Z was most certainly giving in to his irritation, threatening to cut the man’s hands off, fingers first.

Sighing to herself, Blue picked her musket up and lined up the scope with their male prisoner’s head. The girl screamed and Blue’s company nearly did the same, all three twisting around to face her after she pulled the trigger. She scowled when she realised they were displeased with this choice of action and started down to the main-deck.

“Why did you do that?” Jackson shot, truly perplexed. The other two gave looks of agreement.

Blue tilted her head slightly, coming to stand a comfortable distance away from the group. “If we lower ourselves to the same sort of behaviours as those we condemn, are we any better than them?”

While Jackson took on a more curious expression, Z and Marcus looked wholly unconvinced by her words. She gave them both an impassive look before turning her attention to the girl, shaking and crying. Another moment passed and Blue realised that she very likely thought this was about the be the true end of her life.

None of the men tried to stop her as she came to stand before the girl.

“Please don’t kill me.”

Blue shouldered her gun and crouched down to her level.

“The rules are different here,” Blue said. The girl’s snuffling stopped for a moment and she then followed Blue’s eyes to that of her companion, the body fading away with a green glow as the Sea of the Damned claimed it.

“Even within there ,” Blue started, looking back to the girl, “the rules are different. Those with a good heart are given a second, third, fourth, and even more chances at life. Those without one are not so lucky.” Blue leaned towards where her company had once been and gave the girl an awkward shrug.

“So… So you’re not going to kill me?” she asked, hopeful.

Blue blinked. There was indeed a question of what to do with this poor girl. She had been offered to them and she supposed they could take her in… Then again, arrangements for the crews of both ships had all ready been determined. They didn’t know this girl or her capabilities. They also… did not owe her anything. No, there was no reason to take her in. Blue simply did not want to, either.

“You may die and come back many, many times here. The opportunities this allots you are easy to guess, yes?”

The girl blinked and hesitantly nodded her head.

In two swift motions, Blue drew her dagger and slipped it under the girl’s rib cage. The noise she made was horrible.

“I never said that we would let you live.” Blue paused. She must have missed her heart, for the girl did not die quickly. “And remember, even if you can come back, dying always hurts.”

A handful of bloody seconds passed before she was dead and Blue withdrew her dagger. She stood, and then Blue wasn’t sure who had ended up bumping so harshly into her in the following moment of chaos, only certain that she had been knocked off her feet. The act of putting her hands out had been reflex; the pain that emanated from her damaged shoulder was immense. When she was able to see again, she tilted her head up to see a rather angry Marcus being held back by Jackson. Z was between her and them, a seriousness upon his face that she hadn’t seen since Old Faithful Isle.

The only thing that Blue had clearly heard had been Marcus’, “Why did you do that?!”

Blue wasn’t sure why everyone thought that she was the weird one in the crew today.

Holding her shoulder, she slowly rose and all three of them stopped, eyes landing on her. Blue spoke slowly, full of pain and understanding, “I simply sought to swiftly end this encounter.” A half-truth to attempt to calm the maelstrom of emotions.

She and Marcus made eye contact and he leaned away before yanking himself from Jackson. He stomped all the way to the back of the sloop before diving into the water, taking off in the direction of the nearest island. Blue wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“I ain’t seen him that angry in a long time,” Jackson mumbled, scratching at the side of his head.

Blue didn’t look at Z when he turned to her; she chose to pretend that she hadn’t noticed and went for the desk on the little ship. She was so glad when neither of them attempted to stop her, though the time spent getting back to the galleon was still an uncomfortable one.

 

*

 

Blue hadn’t been able to sleep that night because of the pain radiating from her shoulder. Or at least, she didn’t think that she did. She certainly must have, though, fleeting as it was, for in the darkest time of the night, she had been lying there, staring at the ceiling of the galleon’s cabin and in the next moment, Z was sitting on the foot of the bed like he had been waiting for her to wake.

“Y’ look terrible.”

She scowled at him, both for just sitting there and what he said. She hissed when she started to sit up, stifling any scolding she would have given him. When she was up properly, she was aware that Z had come to help her reach that point. They made eye contact before letting go of each other’s arms and Z sat beside her.

“I presume you have not slept,” she said. He shook his head. “And that you want to speak about earlier.” He nodded and Blue just huffed.

“I’ve never seen y’ do anythin’ like that before,” he said.

Blue puffed out another bit of air, wondering what exactly she was supposed to say about the matter. That she had seen herself from one point in time in that girl? That she felt sorrow, pity, and disgust for her in that one moment? It was true that she had wanted the encounter to just be over with at that point, but so, too, was it true that Blue was usually much more passive and patient. She now recognised that her behaviour must have been quite a shock to the men.

“Which part?” she asked, half-feigning obliviousness.

Z lifted his hands and sort of twisted them around, making an uncertain noise as he did.

Blue refrained from sighing again. “I killed him because we are not in any position to be making decisions about what sort of punishments—”

“How are we not ?” Z shot back, a little louder than he needed to at this hour. They stared at each other for a long moment before he shook his head. “There’s no, no… none’a that rules shit out here.”

“There is no governing body, you mean to say?”

“Yea’, that. Not really. There’s nothin’ controllin’ us but ourselves.”

That didn’t sound right. Blue said, “Even still, what makes us worthy of making those decisions?”

“What doesn’t?”

Blue wanted to hit him. He continued.

“We’re the ones that caught ‘em this time, which makes it our business, means we get t’ make those decisions. If we win a fight, what’s t’ stop us from pickin’ what t’ do with the survivors?”

Blue was struggling to come up with a good response that he couldn’t repeat that again to. Even worse…

“So,” she started, choosing her words carefully, “So then that means… that the strong decide what to do with the weaker? That they have the capability to dictate… well, whatever they like?”

Z blinked. “Well, yeah.”

“And that the way they choose to… dictate is dictated only by their own personal morals, ethics — their own rules?”

He blinked. “Yeah. Oh!” He held up a finger. “Well, not exactly. There is the Pirate Lord’s rules, but that’s mostly just ‘only use the usual stuff’ and ‘treat people like people’ and ‘don’t get cursed’ or else yer trips t’ the Ferry stop.”

It was Blue’s turn to blink. She had been deliberate in her word choice and with Z’s confirmation of her underlying concern — “I’m stronger than you, and the strong prey upon the weak,” — she… decided she didn’t know what to think anymore.

“So… So then the only reason I am around is… because you guys like me?”

Z grinned. “Yea’. It ain’t that complicated.”

“It is,” Blue immediately shot. “Without a governing body, the rules are uncertain. Your rules are not certain.”

There was a moment there where Z’s expression turned somewhat blank, as though he didn’t understand what she meant. Then he grinned again and shook his head. “It is, though. We like ya, so y’re part’a our crew and y’ get a fair say in everythin’. It’s how it is out here, simple as that.”

How in the fuck he thought that was simple was beyond her.

There was a knock on the main door leading into the cabin and she and Z both turned to look. He stood as though to go to it; Blue simply spoke loudly: “The door is open.”

The door opened slightly, slowly, and Marcus poked his head in. It took him a moment before he found them and his gaze lingered for another. “… Can I come in and talk?”

Z looked to Blue and she ignored him. “Of course.”

“Great,” Marcus said. He stepped in and shut the door behind him and stayed there, his eyes low. “I, uh, I wanted to apologise for earlier. It was… It—”

“It is what it is,” Blue said. “I take no offence.”

“No, you should, you really should. What I did was uncalled for. I-I lost it.” He stammered a little more, at a loss for words.

Blue said, “It is understandable; you are a husband and father. It does not take a genius to figure out where your thoughts went.”

He nodded. Z was watching the both of them closely, hands on his hips.

“I just felt so bad for that girl,” Marcus said. “My wife—” He sucked in a breath, as though he had almost said something and caught himself. “Titania, she… she didn’t have the best childhood. She didn’t have a steadfast home or family when she was young. … I hate that she had to go through what she did.”

He paused and finally lifted his eyes to look at Blue properly before continuing: “When I met her and gained her trust and love, I promised her that she would never have to go through any of that ever again, and we both promised that if we ever had any little ones of our own, no matter what, they would always have a safe place to be, and someone to love them. Everyone deserves at least that much.”

Blue swallowed the wave of jealousy that threatened to ruin her determination and focused on her new understanding of her crewmate.

“You are a good man,” she said, “but not infallible. Not perfect. None of us are.”

Marcus had a small smile on his face, an underlying sadness to it. He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s the truth. We’re all… We’re all a little different.”

“It is what makes us interesting.”

Z looked at her, a quirked brow. He looked… amused? “It’s what makes us a good crew’s what.” Yes, amusement, and some amount of cockiness.

Blue rose a brow back at him, mimicking his expression. Marcus gave a small but genuine laugh.

“I’m still curious why y’ killed ‘em yerself, though,” Z said.

“Oh.” Blue looked down, not entirely certain herself. “I… wanted it to be over with.” A half-truth that was still a truth, the rest shrouded even to herself. “And were we not going to kill them anyway?” she reasoned.

Z and Marcus looked to each other before back to her. Z shrugged and Marcus just nodded.

 

*

 

The Reaper’s Hideout was a strange place. Blue wasn’t quite sure what to make of the festive look it had when they had first visited. That look that had been toned down quite a lot since then.

They had a single gift to bring. Blue felt it was worth enough to do that, and besides, what else were they to do both with it and in general? It was near the centre of the Sea of Thieves and along their path anyway …

But Blue hadn’t quite expected there to be a new order from the island’s sole inhabitant.

“More. We need more .”

More what ? had been the response from everyone. The answer, shocking.

“Y’re payin’ double for all’a that ?!” Z had nearly screamed after.

The Masked Stranger had explained that she was accepting each Company’s most valuable treasure. Blue had originally thought of the three Companies, but she had also said she was accepting both variations of the Chest of Legends…

Getting double the gold for even one of those chests was a very attractive prospect.

In the galleon’s cabin, Jackson had blurted out, “She’s not with any of the Companies, is she?”

“No, she’s not,” Marcus confirmed.

“Twice the gold,” Z said, staring off at nothing in particular, “but none’a the rep’ t’ go with it.”

“That does seem to be the catch,” Blue agreed, nodding. She looked at them and then voiced the next thought that was on everyone’s mind: “I do not think we really need to worry about climbing any of the Company ladders if we plan to fight our way to our riches…”

None of the Companies paid anyone to fight for their loot specifically. Even the Sea Dogs were stingy with how they conducted their business, paying out in silver pieces and expecting ‘fair’ fights. Blue chose to keep that thought to herself as she and none of the men had felt that Company to be an attractive one. A thought did occur to Blue, though.

“… Riches, which, if I recall correctly, are likely to be gathered by those doing gilded voyages that were given out a few weeks ago, yes?”

The men had perked up at those words and excitedly chirped their enthusiasm. Blue knew very well that they were not keen on earning their treasure themselves — though one could argue that taking it from another crew was a form of earning it — yet it was the Masked Stranger who had lit that fire in their hearts. Blue wondered more about that but supposed she didn’t really mind it at this point. If she was one of the crew, accepted by the others for what she was and her abilities, then she could continue to contribute in her own way.

… Blue still did not feel great about that.

 

*

 

It hadn’t crossed her mind, not exactly , but now that Blue was watching Z and Jackson pull skull after glittering skull from the hold of a brigantine… it certainly was the season for other crews to be trying to complete their gilded voyages in secret.

After watching for a time, she stepped onto the forecastle of their galleon. Marcus was helping transfer the skulls to their ship with a mounted harpoon. He held a skull out for her to take, which she did. It overflowed out of her palm, yet somehow it also sat comfortably in her hand, whispering its insanity. Blue wondered what secrets it might hold, what all of them might tell the Order of Souls, for there were nearly two dozen skulls.

She wondered, too, if their means of obtaining their loot was… well, it certainly wasn’t honourable , but it was… eloquent in its own right.

From The Reaper’s Hideout, Blue had spotted the ship at Snake Island, somewhat in their path to Plunder Outpost, but it was Z who had voiced the idea to take it. His plan had been to stop at a nearby island and send a party out via the rowboat, to quietly board it and kill its crew. Jackson had volunteered himself first; Z was happy to go with him, and Marcus showed no annoyance to staying with the ships with Blue. If all went well, the two men would be able to just sail the brigantine over to them at Fort of the Damned.

Stopping there had not been the cheeriest of ideas, but Blue saw the reasoning for it before anyone said anything. The fog hid their galleon and the Forlorn Phoenix very well, meaning the brigantine’s crew would be totally unsuspecting of a cheeky little rowboat heading their way from that angle.

Blue also supposed that with her state the way it was, stealth was something she should become better acquainted with. Her Eye of Reach served her well, but using it on the opposite shoulder to the one she had learned to use it with was still somewhat awkward, and it was only good for one shot before alerting everyone to her presence. A quick slice of someone’s throat would be quiet enough to allow her to do that as many times as needed, should she play her cards right.

… Blue wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing that she was leaning more towards Z’s way of doing things. But, then again, if she was going to be stuck in the Sea of Thieves with these pirates for the foreseeable future, that might not be a bad thing…

It occurred to her that the skull in her hand had once been rather lively. It belonged to a cursed pirate, one who barely had any will power or intelligence left, yet one who had once been just as alive and sapient as she or the men she sailed with. This one, she understood, had not been as… lucky … as, say, Graymarrow had been, to become a Skeleton Lord and to retain more human features, if Graymarrow could even be described as such. She wondered if the curse made him the way that he was or if he had always been an awful beast of a man, and if that were the case, then did the curse exacerbate those parts of him? She hoped it had.

Her hand shook, the skull tumbled down onto the deck, and Blue was suddenly aware of just how ill she felt. All of those thoughts were rather disturbing. Together, they made her mouth water unpleasantly; she took a step away from the forecastle and staggered, wondering if she would hold her stomach or not. A noise came from Marcus that she ignored with the next step, then making her way to the cabin. Even there, Blue wasn’t sure if she was going to recover before getting worse and only stopped when her hands came to rest on the balcony’s railing at the ship’s stern just outside the cabin’s secondary door.

A long moment passed before Blue was aware that she was focusing on the gentle lapping of the calm island waves against the ship’s hull. She took a breath in, deep and slow, exhaled just as slowly, and repeated that a handful of times before she heard something behind her.

“Blue? Are you all right in there?”

It made plenty of sense that Marcus had become concerned and followed her; Blue just wasn’t sure if she wanted company or not, but refusing him might make things worse. She didn’t know. She turned slightly and called, “I am fine,” and turned back to the water.

She heard the creak of the main door opening further, then the steps of Marcus coming forth until he was at her side. In her peripheral vision, she saw him mimic her, his hands on the railing. He looked at her, though. “Are you sure?”

Blue did not look back at him. Instead, she brought a hand up to wipe at the corner of her mouth — it hadn’t actually gotten so bad that she had drooled — and then she ran that same hand through her hair.

“You looked pretty sick for a moment there.”

“I felt rather sick for a moment,” she admitted.

A moment of silence was allowed to pass and Blue thought Marcus might leave her be until he spoke again: “Tell me if I’m being too bold, I’m really curious now, but… are… are you pregnant?”

“ What— ”

Never in a thousand years would Blue have guessed that those would be the words out of his mouth for there were a thousand more questions that he could have posed to her that made more sense —

… though, that actually made sense now that she thought about it. People were often smarter than one might give them credit for, or much dumber.

“ No .” Blue couldn’t help showing her amusement. She latched onto that feeling instead of the mild panic she felt towards the course of assumptions he had and observations he must have made to come to that conclusion.

“Oh! All-All right, I just, I just wanted to make sure—”

Blue did not want to hear the rest of that and quickly said, “I am not. But I am quite fine, actually.”

He eyed her cautiously. “So… what was that about then…?”

She eyed him back before turning away with a sigh. The thought occurred to her that she could tell him it was none of his business, but that seemed rude, and she was sure that he only asked because he gave a damn, curious as that itself was.

“I’m just trying to make sure you’re all right. That… That wasn’t normal. Well, maybe it was, but not now,” Marcus said, rubbing at his shoulder. “Most people usually have that kind of reaction the first time they hold a skull or see a skeleton coming at them.”

Blue eyed him curiously. It seemed her expression spoke well to him, for he looked out to the sea, made a face like he was thinking very hard, and then looked back at her.

“I… I kind of like to make sure that everybody’s feeling all right, right? I’m not much of a doctor, not much better than anyone of us — and I think you might be better at patching us up than anyone else, anyway — but… but…” He let his words trail off before shrugging. “I’m kind of a doctor of the head, ya see,” he said, tapping the side of his head. “Well, sort of. I learned a bit about how people think and feel and how they work together when I was a bit younger — before we came here, I mean. Well, actually, before I even met my wife.”

It took Blue a long moment to realise that he was opening up to her — however so slightly — probably in order to get her to open up to him. How funny that was, she thought, but it worked. He, like Z, liked her and cared for her. For some reason. In their own ways. Blue tried to not think so hard about that part of her relationships with them.

“You… You were not there,” she said, unsure of how to start. She almost said more and caught herself. “You… do not know much of Z and I’s own adventures, do you?” she said with realisation.

Marcus looked uncertain of how to respond before simply shaking his head. “No, none of us do. We never really thought to ask until…” He gestured to her arm. “And then it never seemed like the right time to ask you and whenever anyone asks Z, he says to ask you. Or he tells us to fuck off. Depends.”

Nodding, Blue considered that knowledge. That meant going over the details herself and figuring out what to share, going back through the horror, but that was very considerate of them all. Yes, the more thought she gave it, the more Blue appreciated that.

“Do the words Winter’s End ring any bells?” Blue asked. When Marcus shook his head, she asked, “What about Octavia ? The Morningstar ?” He shook his head again and Blue wagered, “Graymarrow?”

“Oh! That sounds familiar. Graymarrow was some asshole skeleton, right?”

Blue stared at him for a moment before nodding. “Yes, to… to put it mildly…”

When she said nothing more, Marcus looked at her expectantly; it seemed his curiosity was getting the better of him. At first, at least, and then his expression softened.

“Are we about ready to launch that brigantine away from us?” she asked.

Marcus tilted his head slightly.

“I would rather tell Jackson, too, and sometimes the Ferry returns crews to their ships very quickly, yes?”

He understood, nodded, and together they returned to the main-deck. The entirety of the crew finished pilfering the brigantine of valuables, both actual treasures and worthwhile supplies and even a few knickknacks. Blue took particular delight in a small book that seemed to serve as a captain’s log.

Once they were done, the ship was angled and its sails lowered, allowing it to ghost-sail off towards the low-hanging sun. Then, on the beach of the southern most end of the largest part of Snake Island, the crew assembled around a campfire for a retelling of the most disastrous day of Blue’s life.

Chapter 51: Ideas Spoken Aloud

Summary:

A saying passes through Blue’s mind and turns out to be quite a big deal.

Notes:

+2 tags with this update, though they don’t really have anything to do with this chapter so much as I was going through the tag search feature and went ‘Oh hey that’s a good idea.’

This chapter wouldn’t have taken quite as long to write if I hadn’t been doing what I’ve dubbed as musical keyboards; you can find out all about that on my Tumblr blog if you're curious.

I’m really happy with this chapter. 😁

Part of the day had been spent sailing to Plunder Outpost; a swift wind carried both ships there. It had been somewhat concerning that they had not been properly welcomed by who was supposed to be waiting there for them once they stepped onto the dock, but now that they were all sat at a table in the Plunder Outpost tavern, the group could laugh at how they had found Rylund sleeping up in the little cliffs behind it. Apparently, he had spent the morning drinking out of boredom, so food this afternoon was more than a good idea, even if it wasn’t worth writing home over. That thought made Blue physically pause and think.

“I never did ask, and you never offered up the information,” Blue started, picking some at her plate until everyone’s attention was on her, “but I have been wondering something.”

They all paused to look at her.

Blue asked, her eyes settling on Jackson, “What ever happened to all that gold we gave you to purchase a galleon with?”

“We did,” Jackson blurted out.

Marcus looked at him with a grin and explained, “Yeah. Our ladies are on it.” Rylund nodded.

“Ah.” Blue wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be jealous of that or not. A different thought occurred to her.

“What is it?” Z asked. Blue gave him a look and he added, “Y’ look like y’ got somethin’ else t’ say.”

The other men between them and Blue hesitated before nodding.

“Ah, yes, actually.” She tapped her fingers on the edge of her plate, wondering how to word herself precisely. “It occurs to me that a ship — a galleon, precisely — is something of a moving fortress.”

“The gallies here ain’t that big, Blue,” Z quickly said.

She almost hit him. The glare she sent his way must have been close enough for Z recoiled and returned her look with an embarrassed one of his own before he turned away.

“I know very well just how small the ships here are compared to their namesakes outside of the Shroud,” she spat.

“Yea’, I know, y—”

“You do not,” Blue said so sternly that everyone looked slightly uncomfortable. She took a breath in. While it was true that no one knew what she knew or how she did, it was unimportant at the moment.

“ My point ,” Blue started, tone still too stern for where she was taking the conversation. “My point,” she said again, much more gently, “is that a galleon, no matter how impressive or not it is for something within the Sea of Thieves, is only so comfortable.”

The men looked at her, then at each other before back at her. She wasn’t sure that they understood.

“Just how many people are there on that galleon the ladies have?”

Now they all looked like they understood.

Marcus said, “All of our wives, plus my kid.”

It took Blue a moment to consider how many people that was, the three men’s wives plus a child, which meant…

“So then the problem is in the opposite direction: they have too few people crewing that ship,” she said.

Cassidy was far too little to be as effective as an adult, and Blue did not know what sort of battle-prowess the women possessed. Considering their partners, she assumed they at least understood the way they ought to fight, but knowing something and being able to execute it were two different things. Blue was not sure how to ask that.

“So,” Z said, thoughtful, “should we meet up with them?”

“I have no idea where they are,” Jackson admitted.

“That is another problem,” Blue said. She had their attention again. “A ship is a mobile fortress.” She eyed them all cautiously, wondering if they were following her thought process. No one said anything, though, and so she said, “What about a static stronghold?”

“Like a skelly stronghold?” Jackson asked. The others gave curious looks.

“Something like that,” she said. “Perhaps something not quite so… loud , but yes, something like that.” Blue tapped the table with a finger. “My question, ultimately, is why do they not simply take up residence somewhere more permanently? Perhaps even on land?”

They all looked thoughtful about that. Z had a hand on his chin and shrugged. “Well,” he started, “we do have enemies. Not like we have entire fleets hunting us down or anythin’, but still. We ain’t out here makin’ friends.” He looked at the other men and added, “I’m sure everyone gets what I’m gettin’ at here.”

Blue nodded. “The likelihood that they are truly hunted down is not great, yes?” Everyone looked at each other and shook their heads. “There is a chance, but it is incredibly unlikely, less likely than for them to just happen upon some people that do not like anyone at this table who will try to take it out on them… Well, should they tell them precisely who they are.” Blue paused, then; “If that is the case, and if it is not so bad , then surely they can defend themselves?”

Rylund and Jackson exchanged looks, though Marcus looked most uncomfortable. Z seemed totally unperturbed. “Sure they can,” he said. Z then looked to the other men and his expression changed slightly, as though he noticed their discomfort. “I taught all’a you guys how t’ fight, didn’t I?”

“Sure, but you didn’t teach them ,” Rylund said.

Blue eyed Marcus. He noticed and said, “I’ve worked with Titania and Cass some, but they’ve never been in a really tough fight. And Cass is just… so little that anyone could just pick her up out of a fight…”

Blue’s gaze went to the others besides Z. “Are… are your concerns truly legitimate?” She waited a moment and they looked upset. She quickly added, “Are the chances that they are attacked higher than what the benefits of being able to easily find them offer?”

The three husbands paused and looked between each other. This time, they looked like they were afraid to speak; Z was not.

“Nah, prob’ly not, if that’s what y’re gettin’ at.”

“I am not saying that this is something that is needed ,” Blue clarified. “It is simply a nice idea.” She tapped the table again and then pointed at Rylund. “You, for example, have been waiting for us longer than you expected.”

“For sure.”

“And you had to do that because this extended group’s ability to get together is rather random, is it not?”

They all nodded. Z sat back in his seat, a curiously amused expression on his face. “I like where this is goin’, Blue.”

She eyed him. “You do?”

“Yea’. Y’re right, us gettin’ together is up t’ chance and it’s shitty,” he said. “But I’m not really sure how t’ fix that. Takin’ an island… now that’s an idea.”

“It’s kind of a big task, ain’t it?” Jackson said.

“It is…” Blue sighed. She shook her head. “And it is only an idea. I have no other ideas of how to amend our ability to group up.” She saw some sort of amusement in Z’s face at what she said; she wasn’t sure what that was about.

“I like the idea,” Marcus said.

“Same,” Rylund said.

“I do as well, but I’m not sure how to go about it,” Marcus added.

“I am not either,” Blue said. Marcus recoiled, as though to ask what exactly she was thinking, so she quickly said, “I simply felt strongly enough about it that I should bring it up, half-assed an idea it is.”

Jackson said, “Well, I agree: there should be somethin’ better than us just sometimes runnin’ into each other. I know my wife would really appreciate me being able to get with her and her mother more often.”

Blue nodded. It seemed she had ignited the beginning of an idea in the group, one that could perhaps go somewhere. She hoped someone would have a way to bring it to fruition at some point, but for the time being, they would have to manage. Blue would also wonder just what exactly that look Z was giving her was about, too.

 

*

 

Blue and the men would spend at least the rest of the day and the night at Plunder Outpost, perhaps another day or two’s time, even. That was yet to be decided. What Blue was certain of was that while a galleon’s cabin was spacious and full of furniture and decor that she appreciated, there was still something… cosy … about a desk pushed up against a windowed wall aboard the Forlorn Phoenix . She had spent quite a bit of time on the sloop, quite a lot of it spent at that desk, writing down much of what she had experienced just before entering the Sea of Thieves and then all of what she discovered on her own before meeting Z. The experiences of that one day alone could have filled one of her books.

As she thought about it, she considered that there were now four men. A galleon required that many people to be effective and was also limited — usually — to that number of crewmen. It would make perfect sense for them to get together and crew it. She could continue to stick with them and they could move as a small fleet, or perhaps she could leave and return to her solitary life, though such an idea struck her as not an especially good one. And as Blue heard approaching steps, she considered that all the more.

Z seemed to be the only one willing to bother Blue when she was on the sloop; what stopped the other men eluded her. Perhaps it was simply the familiarity between them, something that had started as an uneasy alliance and turned into… something.

As he came to a stop and leaned against the wall, Blue wondered what Z thought of everything, though the strength to ask did not come with it.

They stared at each other for a short period of time until he shifted to sitting on the edge of the desk, expression somewhat expectant.

“Are you bored or did you need something?” Blue asked.

The grin that Z had been wearing since he sauntered over to her did not falter as he shrugged. “I dunno, I figured I’d come an’ see what you were up t’ after puttin’ an idea like that in everybody’s head.”

Blue blinked. “Oh. That… seems reasonable.” She nodded to herself and looked back at him. “I did not over-step some sort of boundary that I am not aware of, did I?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Don’t think so. I just thought that was a crazy idea, ‘specially comin’ from you.” She gave him a look and he understood. “Well, y’re not crazy about crowds, right? So suggestin’ a way t’ get everybody t’gether—”

“Is productive to larger operations and keeping families together,” Blue said for him.

He recoiled slightly, took a moment to consider her words, and then nodded. “Yea’, that.”

Blue stared at him for a long time. He seemed to like the idea, too, but Z had… well, as far as she knew, he had no family to speak of. None in the Sea of Thieves, at least.

“Why, though?”

Z blinked, his countenance faltering finally and shifting to one of curiosity.

“Why do you think it is a good idea?” Blue clarified.

“Why do…? Well, the guys have their wives, right? And Marcus has his kid, and Jack an’ Ry also want their own, so—”

“How does that benefit you?”

Z blinked again. There was a mixture of concern and understanding — or lack thereof? — on his face. He did not seem to like that question.

Blue leaned back in her seat when he did not answer right away. “They have wives. Marcus has a child to care for and visit with. The others would like to follow in his footsteps. There other halves sometimes have even more family, too, with them, correct?” she asked, recalling Jackson’s wife’s mother at the gathering at Shipwreck Bay. “And sometimes others are invited to join the crew as whole, such as Edmund.”

Z continued to scrutinise her with a sideways glance.

“So I ask again, how does this benefit you? You —” Blue caught herself, realising that continuing to speak in the tone she had might come across as judgemental or rude. She forced herself to relax and say more gently, “You have no family that I know of. These are your friends, few as they are, and their families are part of your extended social group.”

He rose a brow. “I made friends with you, didn’t I?”

Blue titled her head slightly. That was… quite a loaded statement, she felt.

“That is not how I remember it,” she said, forcing a slight playfulness to her tone. “I believe I made friends with you despite all of your caution and forced swagger.”

He scoffed but followed it up with a chuckle. “Yea’? My caution? I still don’t know a thing ‘bout you , Blue.”

That caught her off guard. For as much time as they spent in each other’s company, neither of them really knew a lot about the other. She knew how Z behaved, and perhaps he wasn’t as observant of that sort of stuff as she was, but…

“I think I can say the same to you,” she said somewhat more seriously. Z looked far less amused, like he was fighting to not take offence to her words. “Not that it is a bad thing. Not a good thing, I think, but it is not a bad thing. We certainly do get on well despite that.”

If she had to guess, Z had to decide how he felt about that exactly. Blue was glad when he outwardly took it well.

“Nah, that’s fine, I guess. I—” He paused, furrowing his brow. “I only know so much about the guys ‘cause I’ve sailed with ‘em for so long. An’… not ‘cause I’ve ever asked a lot about ‘em. That doesn’t us’ally matter when y’re fightin’ other crews all the time.” He cleared his throat. “But I guess t’ answer yer question, I think it’s a good idea ‘cause they think it’s such a good idea. They do have their wives and all, and it’d probably be easier to keep new recruits sailin’ with us if we could meet up somewhere an’ all.”

“Everyone likes to have a place to call home,” Blue said.

Z looked back at her with such an intensity that she froze, startled and concerned with what he might say next.

“What, like…” He held a thoughtful expression for a moment. “I dunno, I call this whole place home,” he said, gesturing with an arm as though he meant the entire Sea of Thieves. The way he looked at her after that, she was certain that was what he meant.

“I think people like something a little more… manageable to call home,” she said, letting a small amount of amusement take hold in her voice, a small grin.

“Hah, maybe,” he said, sitting upright. “I don’t need some little shack or a big ol’ log cabin t’ call my own t’ be home, though. As long as I have some food an’ somewhere t’ rest my head, I’m good.” He paused. “An’ maybe a crew,” he added, most certainly meaning her with the way he briefly leaned toward her in vague playfulness.

“Perhaps so,” Blue said. All her life, home had been defined as a place you returned to after travels and otherwise lived in. Perhaps…

“That… That makes more sense,” she said with renewed understanding. Z looked surprised and she refused to give him time to say anything more. “I suppose that is why you’ve come to pester me?”

He gave her a little snort. “Somethin’ like that. There’s three’a them and two’a us. Y’ seem t’ like workin’ with someone more than bein’ on yer own an’ I get that,” he said, gesturing to her damaged arm with that last part. “‘Sides, they can head out t’ find the family gally, and someone’ll definitely wanna join them on that one.”

“Perhaps Edmund has continued to stick around,” Blue murmured.

“Yea’, maybe,” Z said.

She looked back at him. “Then I take it that this is your way of asking if we will sail together again when the time to leave comes?”

He gave her a toothy grin and nodded. “Yea’, somethin’ like that.”

Blue rolled her eyes and feigned annoyance towards him as she buried herself in her book again. He made a good point about her arm; that alone meant that there was no good reason to deny his company. Further more, Blue was stuck with the realisation that, above all else, she didn’t want to tell him no.

 

*

 

As cosy as the Forlorn Phoenix and her furnishings were, being anywhere outside of under the blankets in bed when a storm came through was anything but cosy. It had started early in the evening and everyone preferred to be deep in the bowels of the galleon or inside a rented room in the tavern when it came time to sleep. Marcus seemed somewhat secretive so Blue was not surprised when he rented himself a room once more, and Z was… he was doing whatever he was doing. He, too, had rented a room, and yet Blue had woken up in the middle of the night to find him curled up with her in the galleon’s cabin, slightly damp from a gentle rain moving into the area. She thought that rather funny, though the warmth of the bed sent her back to sleep before she could give it much thought. When the light just began filling the morning sky amidst the thick clouds, she pretended to still be asleep when he crawled out of bed and exited the cabin as though there weren’t already plenty of assumptions about them being shared amongst the rest of the crew.

By late morning, the wind had died down some and a much heavier rain took its place. Blue was still yet to leave the cabin; she wasn’t hungry enough to face the rain and she was quite enjoying writing in the current journal she kept. She was startled when someone just about crashed through the main door of the cabin, though. A moment passed and Blue realised that Jackson’s abrupt entrance was all about the downpour.

“Sorry, sorry, I—”

“I can hear it,” Blue said quickly, raising a hand. “You do not have to explain yourself,” she added before quirking a brow at him. “Although…”

“I came over to make sure you were all right,” Jackson explained. “Usually you’re up and about but…” He gestured outside in general.

Blue nodded. “Yes, it is a little… wet out there.” They both chuckled. She expected that he would excuse himself now that his curiosity was sated, and yet… “But…?”

“Well,” he started, the tips of each hand’s fingers coming together in a nervous gesture. “Well, I was wonderin’ if you could write a letter for me.”

Blue blinked. “… Oh?”

He nodded. “I-I can do it myself, but I’m not very good at it. I’m better at reading and even then I’m not so good at it. It takes me forever to write something, and Z said you were probably in here doing that and he was right and that’s not the first time he’s said you were writing and you were.”

That made sense, though Blue found herself a little dumbstruck by Z’s mentions of her writing. “I see. Uh—” She looked around the desk area for a moment before she recalled where a few sheets of paper resided. She brought one to rest before her. As she did, Jackson finally approached her, coming to stand beside a far corner of the desk. “What— Who…” She made a face. “It would be easiest if you first explained to me what it is you want out of this letter.”

Jackson looked a little confused for a moment, then made a thoughtful expression. “Ah! Uh, well, I’d like to write back to my family outside the Shroud. My dad, my mum, my sisters — I wanna tell ‘em what’s been happening since my last letter.” He paused. “It’s… been a while since then.”

She considered that and the nodded to him. “I agree that that is a good idea,” she said with a nod of the head.

Blue and Jackson spent quite some time working on that letter. At first, when he had explained what he wanted to say, Jackson had been all over the place with the topics. He was in such a disarray with them that Blue became somewhat annoyed and stopped him, explaining that he should lump certain related ideas and topics with each other for both ease of writing and reading. When she used this to explain the concept of a paragraph to him, his eyes lit up with some amount of excitement, though he did amend it, saying, “I prob’bly won’t remember this for very long, but I ‘preciate you trying to teach me.”

As it turned out, Jackson had quite a lot that he wanted to say; Blue had to slow him down and suggest the idea that she make note that he had a friend writing for him. After that, he wanted all of his family that might be around to read the letter to be addressed, that he was thinking of them and missing their presence. He was somewhat deliberate about how he wanted to tell them he was earning his riches — so as to not worry them , he said. Blue was certain that it was so they didn’t think of him as the savage pirate that he really was.

When Blue wrote enough to make it about a third of the way down the paper, in rather small letters, too, Jackson decided that was enough and wanted to move onto the next subject: her . That had come as something of a surprise, but as it was turning out, Blue really had made an impression on these men who called her friend. She was starting to feel really bad that she couldn’t muster up the strength to feel as strongly about them as they did her, fear and doubt plaguing her thoughts as they did. She pushed herself past that and focused on the task at hand, which included a small note that it was thanks to Z’s luck that they even ever met her. There were, eventually, somewhat more intimate things that Jackson wanted to tell them, about him and his wife, how her mother was doing with them, that Marcus and Titania and Cassidy were still there with them, that Rylund and his lady were still together and doing all right now… Blue withheld any comments that came to her mind and just nodded politely before starting to write those down.

When there was just enough space left to give the letter a proper ending and allow Jackson to sign his name — a signature that she refused to look at so as to allow him to keep his given name to himself, should that have been the case — Blue couldn’t quite help saying, “You have quite a lot to say to quite a lot of people.”

“Well, yeah!” he replied with quite a bit of giddy excitement. “I haven’t seen them in years and it’s just about impossible for them to get letters to me, so I gotta make sure I keep them in the know with what I’m doing.” Blue was certain that she gave him a curious look, though whether or not it affected what he said next, she was unsure; “Don’t you say a lot to your people back home?”

The way his face contorted, Blue knew she hadn’t managed to keep her expression the way it was before or even just neutral. “No,” she said simply, shaking her head. Jackson looked hesitant to speak again. “I do not have anyone back home or elsewhere that I communicate with on the other side of the Devil’s Shroud.”

“Wow,” he blurted out, dumbfounded. “You really don’t…?” Blue shook her head again and he looked greatly remorseful, though Blue wasn’t sure why. “I’m sorry. Is… Or… Is it a good thing…?”

Blue understood that he was trying to make up for his response, but she saw no point in talking about it and held up a shrug. “It is what it is. That is all there is to it.”

Jackson looked upset after that, but he blinked and pushed some of it away. “All right. Well, if you ever change your mind or just wanna talk, you can come to me if you want.”

He nodded, though it was more for his sake than hers. A moment passed and he looked to the paper in his hands. He gave it a gentle shake before nodding once more. “This looks like it’s all dry.”

Blue eyed the back of the paper before giving him a small nod. “Keep it dry and…” Well, actually, she wasn’t sure how letters were sent through the Devil’s Shroud. “Well, you know how to send it, I presume.”

“Ah. Yeah.” He rolled the paper up and tucked it into his jacket. Blue could detect some amount of nervousness in his expression. “Thanks again for your help,” he said, starting for the door.

Blue watched for a moment before saying, “Of course. I am glad to be of service.” A statement that was a little more true than she wished it were.

Jackson gave her a small smile before he disappeared through the door, leaving Blue to sit and consider things.

 

*

 

Z returned to the cabin that night. This night he came in drenched by the rain, a downpour which had come and gone throughout the day before rearing its ugly head when the sun set. He had tried to be quiet, but she was still awake and considering previous conversations of recent. Both of his hands rested against the door after he closed it, his general body expression making her think he thought he had been fully undetected.

“You are soaked.”

He startled slightly and turned to her. “Yea’, no shit.”

“You are not getting in this bed like that.”

“Oh, I’m not, am I?” Z paused for a moment when she simply gave him an awkward shrug, her good arm bent so it was between her head and the pillow. “And whaddya suggest then? That I strip down before I join you?”

Blue refused to be taken by surprise and shrugged again. “I suppose you will not be able to get a dry change of clothes through that rain.”

He eyed her with such an intense gaze that Blue wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do. Then he looked like he was withholding some sort of expression — a laugh? — before he started pulling his shirt off. Every article he wore was some level of wet, from dripping water to just dampened, and all of them were given some sort of hanging spot, on the chests, the wardrobe, the desk — Blue would have launched herself out of bed to hit him had he tried to hang anything off the bookcases.

When he approached her again, a whisper of smugness on his face, Blue simply shuffled over so there was ample space for him to sit down and remove his pegleg. That was clearly not the reaction he expected — wanted? — but he clambered underneath the blankets anyhow. He curled up against her side rather quickly and she understood why — he was fighting off full-bodied shivers despite the playfulness he had displayed.

Z must have felt neglected by her response because after a time, he very gently nudged at her shoulder with his chin until she shifted to look at him. With her attention now, he asked, “Y’ all right?”

She made a thoughtful noise before looking back up at the ceiling. “I think so. To answer your next question: I have simply been considering the subjects of recent.”

He blinked at her. “That means…?”

She blinked back. “Well, I suggested… taking some sort of place for the entirety of the crew and families to reside at, yes? I believe that gave Jackson the idea to send a letter to those he has outside the Sea of Thieves. Apparently he does that somewhat regularly.”

“Y’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout home recently?”

Blue paused. “… Something like that.” She looked away from him. He gave her enough time to think and she clarified: “I believe I have been thinking about things outside the Devil’s Shroud more so than about home .”

That seemed to pique his interest, though Z was also clever enough to not jump the gun. “What’s that mean?”

“Jackson has family on the other side. He tells them about the ones he sails with, about Marcus, Rylund, everyone’s partners and other family members and more.” Blue paused once more, wondering if she waited for a moment if Z would reply back with the idea of what she was getting at. He didn’t. “I have…” She changed her mind and shook her head. “He was rather surprised when I told him I do not do as he does.”

“Oh.” Now Z looked confused. “But I thought y’ had plans t’—”

“I had plans of what I thought was expected of me at the time,” Blue quickly corrected.

“So… So y’re not gonna make a buncha money and then leave t’ find somebody t’ marry and have kids with?”

“… I have no idea what I should do,” Blue stated plainly.

Z took a moment and then chirped, “Y’ don’t hafta do anythin’, y’ know. Y’ can just go where the wind takes y’ and go from there.” When Blue didn’t respond to that, she saw him frown out of the corner of her eye. He hesitated and then said, “Well… that’s what I do.”

“I know,” she said gently.

Z curled up a little more against her. “So… what then?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I have never been without a plan of some sort for my own future, be it my own idea or someone else’s.” Another thought occurred to her. “I have not been here very long, but you have.”

Z titled his head up at her. “I don’t know about that, Blue,” he said, his words like molasses.

“… Perhaps,” she admitted. Everyone in his circle that she had met was an adult, sans Cassidy, some a little more mature than the others, still young, though, while Z himself had his few strands of grey hairs. That made her wonder.

“I don’t know what you have been through, but… but I am quite certain that it has been quite some time since you saw the other world. I am merely suggesting that you see what it is like now.”

Z made some little noise of acknowledgement at her. That was fine, she supposed, and so was his arm wrapping around her midsection, wiggling it underneath her arm. He’d never spoke of any friends or family out there and Blue was afraid to ask, certain she knew the answer. It seemed likely to her that he had been through something truly awful if Z didn’t have any desire to see the outside world again. That, or perhaps he simply found the Sea of Thieves to be so much more suitable for him that he couldn’t fathom leaving it, that he belonged in it. Perhaps it was all of those things.

“I am not saying you have to in any regard whatsoever, or even that you should, I—”

“I’ll think about it,” he said.

Blue was still for a moment before she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. She swore she had seen them before, but she’d never looked hard. Now she was certain, with her wrist brushing against his, that he had horrific scars dug into his wrists. He shifted slightly but didn’t withdraw his hand, instead intertwining two of his fingers around her index finger, apparently not minding or noticing this revelation of hers. She was thankful for that.

“… We could go together ,” Blue suggested.

It took a long moment, but Z wriggled a little more and then said, “Maybe. I might like that. But still only maybe.”

“All I ask is that you consider it.”

“I will .”

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Do You Think Sharks Have Feelings?