Slaughter Fish’s wielders worked to protect the ship from the storm. Butcher stood the forward watch and directed the efforts to see the ship safe. Cousin stood next to him with her face up turned, and eyes closed experiencing the fury.
“You could help,” Butcher called over the crashing waves and cracking thunder.
Cousin gave no sign of hearing. Then the ship was in a bubble which flowed smoothly through the mountainous waves.
“How?” Butcher turned to Cousin. “Did you do this?”
“Yes. Though your wielders were more than capable of protecting this ship.”
“You turned Allen to dust.”
Cousin shrugged. “His power was in manipulating others, and using their power to his benefit. He was a leach. A bug.”
Butcher laughed.
Vermit scuttled up. “Seems the men are nervous,” he said dipping his head. “The little miss is becoming quiet the legend on board. Some are talking stupid.”
Cousin walked over to Vermit, and kissed his head. She waved her hand and a black stiletto dagger appeared. She gave it to Vermit. “Be safe, Uncle.”
Vermit turned the weapon over in his hands. When he looked up to thank Cousin she was gone. He and Butcher watched the lightning outside slide across the bubble’s surface.
Butcher blew out a sigh. “Here’s praying for the world.”
“No, Captain. Pray for the little miss.”
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