Marty took the pouch and tossed it in his palm. “This should just about pay for what you owe me the last time you needed some messages sent.”
It was Torvus’ turn to look put out. “But I paid you back the last time I was here.”
Marty dropped back against his chair and laughed. “The last time you were here, you were running from one of your lovestruck victims turned hunter. What was her name again? Lolita?”
Torvus winced. “I wish you wouldn’t mention that name in front of me.”
“But she said she was your biggest fan,” Marty teased as his eyes twinkled. “I think she said she’d followed you through twelve ports at that point.”
“Thirteen, and the number matches the woman.”
“Whatever the number, you were too busy trying to set sail without her noticing to pay me any attention, much less a coin.”
Torvus frowned, but reached into his pocket and drew out another bag, which he dropped onto the table. “Will this work?”
Marty took up the purse and tossed it, catching it with a smile on his face. “Perfectly.” He pocketed the purses and took the scribbled message from Torvus. “I’ll have my fastest deckle on it.”
The captain narrowed his eyes at his old friend. “Will that cost more?”
“I’ll be sure to keep within your budget,” Marty assured him as his gaze fell on me. “And if it goes a little over, I’ll take it as a gift to your lovely companion.”
I blinked at him. “Why me?”
“Torvus has brought around any number of women from the port and his adventures,” Marty commented as he smiled at me. “But there’s a different air around you, and I like the spark in your eyes. It reminds me of Baba.”
“The heavens forbid. . .” Torvus muttered.
Marty stood with Pen on his arm. “I’ll get right on sending those messages.”
We followed suit and rose. Pen fluffed up his ‘feathers’ and squawked at me. I blinked at the bird. “Does it not like me?”
“On the contrary, Pen doesn’t want you to leave,” Marty mused as his eyes flitted between the bird and me. He stretched out his arm in my direction. “Care to hold him?”
I held up my hands in front of me. “I don’t really know how-”
Pen leaped off Marty’s arm and landed neatly on mine. I jerked back into the arms of Torvus, but his paper talons were tougher than they looked. He remained attached to my sleeve, dancing from one foot to the other. Pen bobbed his head and squawked.
I blinked at the bird before I looked to the owner. “What am I supposed to do with him?”
“He must be quite happy to be out of his cage,” Marty mused as he held up his arm. “Come, Pen.”
Pen snapped and fluffed his feathers, and the rustle of his caw was quite loud.
Marty lifted an eyebrow and lowered his arm. “You’re sure?”
The bird bobbed his head.
“What’s going on?” I asked him.
Marty folded his arms over his chest and grinned at us. “It appears Pen wants you to take him on an adventure or two. It has been fifty years since he stretched his wings.”
I turned my head to Torvus. “Can the ship hold another crew member?”
He cocked his head to one side and smiled at the bird. “This one won’t eat too much, so I suppose we could take this one on.”
I held the bird up to Marty. “You’re sure you won’t mind? This is your grandfather’s last bird.”
His soft eyes twinkled with mischief. “I think grandfather would appreciate a beautiful woman like yourself holding on to his most treasured possession. He probably would’ve given you the bird himself.”
