Steady wind filled sails painted with three slashing marks. It pushed the small ship ahead of the building storm. Eyes of shifting shadows scanned the distant, boiling clouds. A gust lifted the long green braid from Cousin’s back and whipped it out.
“Hey,” Gabb said from the helm. “Watch out with that thing. You could almost slice skin with that.”
A wide grin stretched Cousin’s face. She didn’t turn, or answer. She pulled the braid over her shoulder and tucked it through her belt. Lightning highlighted large, rolling cloud formations as rain darkened the horizon. Cousin stood enraptured by the flow of nature.
A tingle flowed over Cousin’s skin as Kraken approached. He ran his hands over her arms and pulled her to him. Nuzzling her ear he whispered, “Kor is ready.”
Cousin’s smiled dropped. She met Kraken’s ocean green eyes and nodded.
Kor waited in the Captain’s cabin. He gazed out the windows at the advancing storm without the enjoyment Cousin experienced. His usual gruff and surly manor was buried under long silence. His form withered daily as he pulled into himself.
Kraken poured three glasses of strong whisky, and brought them to the table. He sat them down with a thump.
Kor jumped and spun.
Cousin frowned. She joined Kraken at the table, and took her usual place. Her large eyes never left Kor as he joined them. Cousin resisted the urge to look into Kor, though the compulsion was the strongest she had ever felt.
Kor lifted a glass and drained it in two long pulls. He didn’t react to the fire that burned from his mouth to his toes. He only stared at the empty glass in his hand.
“You want more time?” Kraken asked.
“No.”
Kor’s voice was sandpaper on Cousin’s skin.
“Then get another drink, and come sit,” Kraken said.
Kor sat turning the glass in his hands. He watched to the slight remainder of the liquid roll, clinging to the bottom of the glass. His mind ran around the same circle as the whiskey ran the circle of the glass. “Life is like the dregs of a whiskey glass. Clinging to the last hold, and never going anywhere except in circles.”
Kraken and Cousin looked at each other. They could feel the other’s unease. It infected the flow between them, skittering and pulsing.
“But?” Cousin said, hoping to draw Kor out of his morass state.
Kor glanced up. “But that never stops some from trying to get out anyway.”
Silence held. Distant thunder rolled through the sun lit room.
“The tavern was like that,” Kor said. “The spell Vermit brought was a kind of silence spell. The room was filtered to a quiet rumble like far away thunder.” Kor shook his head, and closed his eyes. “Vermit. That one has cannon balls in his pants. Never would have figured him for the type.”
“What did Uncle want?” Cousin asked. “Why the secrecy?”
Kor met Cousin’s eyes with a pain so profound that tears began to build in her own eyes.
“He asked for you to interfere. For you to be Des’Tras.
Kraken cursed, and jumped from his chair knocking it back with enough force for it to break against the wall. “Like hell,” he started before Cousin’s gentle touch stopped him. He pulled away, and went to get his chair from the desk.
“Were those his words?” Cousin asked.
Kor looked at the glass turning in his hand. “Not exact. He said it ain’t right that you hold back the way you do.” Kor leaned his head back as another crash of thunder sounded closer. “He has family in Le’An. He wants help to get them out.”
“Tell him to get Butcher to help him,” Kraken said. “Slaughter Fish has more crew than Haven. Vermit isn’t crew here.” The whip of Kraken’s voice snapped over the table. His power began to build and his eyes turned to surging green ocean waves. Then he held his breath, and the power ebbed.
Cousin stared at Kor. “Butcher said no.”
Kor nodded.
Kraken reached for Cousin’s hand. He played with her long fingers. Marveled again at how tiny her hand was in his. She looked frail, breakable. The steal and edge of her remained hidden.
“There is more to it,” Cousin said.
“I got the sense that he wants help to get all the people not in the fight by will out. All of them.”
“Cannon balls?” Kraken said. “That man has flaming orbs. All of them?”
Kor nodded. “He suspected I killed Ke’Les. It isn’t really a secret.” Kor got up and went to pour himself another whiskey. He drained it, and walked back with the empty glass turning in his hands. “He believes, rightly so, that Le’An after Ke’Les is worse than Le’An under Ke’Les. He thinks I have a responsibility to step in.”
Kraken snorted “Why, because you killed someone who needed killing?”
Kor swirled the remainder in the bottom of the glass, and didn’t look up. “No.”
Kraken wanted to will an answer from his Quarter Master. He didn’t.
Cousin held her breath. Her love and fear choked the words she wanted to say.
Kor sat the glass down on the table. The room dimmed with the approaching storm, and new thunder rattled against the windows. “Because Ke’Les was my brother.”
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