The Pirate King Ch. 16

Cookie drowned out the rest of my words in hisses. "Boy! Not so fuckin' loud! Christ." He shook his head, turning back to chopping onions with a determination that raised my brow. "I'm a cook. Let me be a cook. I don't wanna go back to that place, not never. Learned my lesson about where I belong, and where I belong is right here in this fuckin' room. Doing my cooking, taking care of you idiots." His gesturing knife nearly caught my arm and I pulled back. "Do you know where they'd be without me? Do you know how easy they'd be to find? All the shit they'd have wandered into with the power that captain holds all tucked up in his soul?"

I looked down at the stout cook. I understood penance as a concept, had seen how that ate people up and spat out skeletons of guilt. I hoped this was more than that to him.

"And they don't even know," he muttered as he went back to his onions. "Fuckin' thankless job, being cook. I save their skin once a week, I swear, and you know what thanks I get? You know what they say?"

I smiled, my hand coming to rest on his shoulder. "Thank you, Alan."

He narrowed his small eyes up at me. "Well. Aye, boy. It's just what I do, then, isn't it?"

**

On the fifth morning on the Ephretes, we lost Thron.

"No," I told Gret. He stood before me looking nervous, his hands sliding across each other in a pattern of anxiety. "No. Absolutely not. I did not lose the second biggest man on my ship two days after losing the first."

"He didn't come back last night," he repeated. "I waited til morning to see if maybe he hadn't just snuck off somewhere, but." He stared at me helplessly.

I stared back. "Why haven't you gone to the Captain?" I understood that I might be seen as Ichor's wrangler. I might even be seen as the Russians, the ocean help me.

ButThron?

"I can't go to Cap." Gret sounded panicked. "You gotta help me, Ghost. We gotta fix this, we can figure this out." He paused, looking uncomfortable. "The Russian is missing too."

Ah.

I took a moment to wonder how I had come to be here. How I had come to be the less threatening option, the one you came to for help? A way-station for mortals. Could they not see that I was the ocean, carried its power and indifference and vastness in every one of my cells? Could they not taste the salt on my very breath?

Gret stared up at me, his eyes pleading.

"Alright," I sighed, pressing a hand to my forehead. "Where's the last place you saw him?"

Gret, it turned out, had not done a very thorough search of the ship. Probably better that he hadn't, because if he had been the one to find Thron and the Russian wrapped around each other in the riggings, fifty feet in the air, there was no telling what might have happened.

I leaned back and smiled, seeing the two massive men entangled with each other and the ropes. The Russian had created a kind of hammock from the extra ropes in the way he had taught me, or maybe I had taught him. It was so long ago the providence of the information was lost, but I recognized the construction as one we shared. I watched the two mens' chests fall evenly for a few more moments before leaning forward and gently tapping the Russian on the shoulder.

The large man's eyes slowly opened. I watched an expression of awe spread over his face as he realized where he was, as he took in who rested in his arms. I cleared my throat.

His eyes drifted to me. "Priliv," he greeted me genially.

"Ivan." I gestured at the man still sleeping in his arms. "Having a good morning?"

The smile that slid over his face was sloppy and so filled with joy it spilled all over the deck below. "The best,Priliv. Only the best."

I had to smile back. "Wake him. He's needed on deck."

"Aye." I don't think I had ever head the Russian speak so quietly. I made my way back to the deck in the way of the land boys so not to scare the men coming onto the deck. Above me, I could hear the quiet murmurs of conversation as two men took their time pressed against the sky.

***

It was on the fifth night that we slipped from the Ephretes and into the first cracks of the world.

***