Ramaro scoffed. “And you actually believe them? They’re a bunch of thieves. Lying is second nature to them.”
I had to tamp down the corners of my lips. “Like it is to a pirate?”
He wrinkled his snout. “We have more honor than that bunch. They’ll as soon steal from their mothers as not.”
“I think it’s about time you went below deck and performed your rat-catching duties,” Marc chimed in.
Ramaro flicked his long tongue at the captain. “Do I look like a cat?”
“We could fix that by gluing the hull’s dust weeds to your scales.”
His tail acted like a bongo against the back of the crate. “I’ll have you know these scales saved your hides in the fight with that lunatic, Jaeger, or was your dragon brain too interested in eating chickens to notice?”
A bemused smile slipped onto his lips. “I was thinking more of roasted lizard, but we couldn’t miss our flight. Jaeger was so eager for us to stay that he may have gone to drastic measures to keep us there.”
Ramaro’s nostrils flared. “You might joke about it, but it was no joking matter to the two of us. I had to hide under the boat while those villains pawed over Rose.”
Marc’s good humor dropped off his face. “We’ll have to find a way to thank them for that.”
“I’m alright,” I spoke up as I offered the pair a smile. “You both saved me, and we’re here now waiting for, um, someone.”
“The Wraithcourier,” Ramaro reminded me as he stretched his neck up and surveyed the area. “The creepy bugger should’ve been here by now.”
“He comes when he wants to, and no earlier,” Marc reminded him.
Wraithcourier. The name made me shiver. I wrapped my arms around myself. “Why is he called that?”
“Nobody’s ever seen his face,” Ramaro told me as he flicked out his tongue. “Nobody’s even sure it’s a man. It could be a phantom or maybe the spirit of a drowned sailor.”
“Isn’t a spirit the same as a phantom?” I inquired.
Ramaro curled his tail around himself and stretched himself to his full, unimpressive stature. “Of course not. A spirit is the shade of your average dead person. A phantom is much more than that. It’s a soul that is so powerful that it’s taken on a new life. They can even talk and touch you, whereas a spirit needs to really focus to do either of those things.”
I lifted an eyebrow at my short companion. “You seem to know a lot about spirits. I thought you didn’t like people all that much.”
The tip of his tail twitched. “I know a lot about a lot of things. As for them being people, humans are conceited enough to think they’re the only ones with spirits. I’ve met more animal spirits than humans.”
“That’s because they’re more likely to talk to you than a human,” Marc pointed out as he inspected the area around us. “The fog’s coming in. He should be here any moment.”
“Fog? But it’s a perfectly clear-” The words died in my throat when I noticed the huge bank that fast approached us.
The completely clear horizon was now blocked by a high wall of fog that approached us from the direction of the city. The barrier blotted out the sun and cast us in its huge shadow. Its speed was so fast that if I had been forced to outrun it, I wouldn’t have won.
My mouth dropped open, and shivers ran down my spine. I had to lick my dry lips before I could speak. “W-what is that?”
“The coming of the Wraithcourier,” Marc revealed as he stood. “He hides his customers in his fog.”
I wrapped my coat tighter around myself. My breath came out in white wisps of warning. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention against the rising tide of mist. “Won’t somebody in the city notice the fog and see where we land?”
Ramaro rolled his eyes. “Nobody will be the wiser that it isn’t a natural fog when we land after sunset. The city has them most every night thanks to the warm waters.”
Marc turned to face our small friend. “Are you coming or do you start rat duty?”
The agama hunched his shoulders, but slipped off the crate and slunk over to the port side of the ship. “Stop asking stupid questions, and let’s get onto that boat.”
“Boat?” I asked him as I jumped to my feet and was promptly attacked on both sides by the heavy flaps of the overcoat that I wore. The dingy exterior was thankfully not the same as the clean interior, thanks to a lot of soap and scrubbing. I grabbed the sides and rebuttoned the few remaining buttons on the front.
“I don’t think this is going to stay on very well,” I told my companions.
