“I presume that these are mudaliks due to those orange sucker pads.” He points to the canvas sack. His blue eyes are wild with passion, his unruly hair messed by the ocean breezes. “There are so many elixirs I can make.”
The table creaks under my weight as I lean my hip against it, grateful for a moment's rest while the pair liaise back and forth about all things monsters. Soon Odi and I would have to go back to how it was before. In this together simply to fulfil a mutual goal. Her, to pocket gold and find some lonely, land-based paradise, and me to find what I could about my mother, or the very least my water elemental bloodline. After that, I’d never see her again.
“We don’t have to eat them do we?” Odi asks, her voice hesitant, like she’s afraid of the answer.
Bear starts pulling out another mudalik leg to inspect before he answers. “I wouldn’t feed this to my worst enemy.”
My brow raises, and I inspect my nails like I have all the time in the world. “He’d deserve it.”
Otto snorts, but it’s true, and when I come face to face with the man, I’ll shove this monster guck so far down his throat it’ll come out the other end whole.
I glance across the table to where Odi sits, her hair cascading around her in soft, dark waves. She catches my eye, and for a second neither one of us looks away. Her perfectly pink lips are slightly pouted, and when I think about how it felt to touch them with mine, my lungs constrict from the absence of air.
If given the chance, I’d probably do it again.
The door to the galley squeaks open, announcing the arrival of Elio and Tavi. My gaze lingers on Odi’s face for a moment longer as Elio brushes past me to drop another bag of monster goodies.
Odi offers them a worn smile and then turns back to Otto. “So what sort of elixir requires such dangerous ingredients?”
Otto’s eyes glitter with joy as he starts digging through the bag of monster loot Elio discarded, kitchen knife in hand. “See, the thing about mudalik sucker pads, they’re sticky as sin. Dry ‘em out, grind ‘em fine, and you’ve got yourself a powder that’ll seal any cut tighter than stitches. Even works on rope burns! Thought about mixing it with honey, but that’s sticky on sticky and, well, then you’re just stuck.” He laughs at his own joke before tumbling into thenext thought.
“And their spit—oh, their spit’s glorious. More acidic than a sour wine but you dilute it right, mix it with seawater, and aloe vera gel, and it becomes a potent disinfectant.” His grin is wide, eyes bright, but he doesn’t pause.
He flips the knife, gestures with it like punctuation. “And the skin. Don’t waste it. We wash it, cover it in salt and dry it out. Then if someone burns themselves, you can re-hydrate the mudalik skin mixed with quail egg whites to the burn area and repair your skin. Maybe I should have asked for more—”
“Otto.” My voice cuts through the air, but I’m sure to offer him a smile. He’d talk all day if I let him.
He blinks at me, fingers twitching against the knife hilt. “Right. Rambling again?”
“A bit.” I wink. The boy’s chaos has a way of bleeding into the air around him, but I’ll admit, I’d rather have his endless chatter than silence.
Odi looks everything over. “It’s amazing Bear, you should become a healer, not a cook.”
The skeleton earring Otto wears swings softly as he shrugs. “Why not be both? It’s all mixing and measuring, finding the right ingredient.”
Tavi speaks up from where she’s taking the bandages off Elio's leg. “Speaking of healers. Elio could use some attention.” The fabric of his trousers is stained with dark red. Otto springs into action, rushing to her aid.
The sight of it hits me in the stomach. I’ve lost too many already, and what if Elio had been one of them? I don’t think I could learn to live alongside the guilt of knowing my best friend died because I couldn’t be satisfied with thequiet presence of unanswered questions. “Here, press that there—no, firmer,” Otto rattles on, hands flapping as he gives instructions, then scurries off to fetch his jars of salves and tinctures. His voice fades down the corridor, leaving the room quieter, charged.
Elio winces but doesn’t move, not when Tavi steps closer, not when his fingers catch her waist and tug her between his knees. She exhales sharply, cheeks blooming pink, but she doesn’t push him away. Instead, she leans over the wound, fussing with cloth and pressure, her hands steady despite the flush on her skin.
I look away, then back again just in time to catch it—the briefest of kisses. A stolen thing, soft as breath, gone before it can root. Tavi pulls back instantly, red-faced and scowling, muttering something about infection. Elio just grins like the cocky bastard he is, sitting there bleeding and smug.
Like a magnet, my gaze finds Odi again, who still sits on the edge of the kitchen table. She’s not looking at the two love birds over in the corner. No. She’s looking at me. Warmth erupts in my chest like a forbidden flower blooming under moonlight.
I wonder if she’s thinking about the kiss—or whatever she wants to call it. My weight shifts under her gaze. I’m trapped between wanting to reach for her here in front of everyone, or darting from the room and pretending like nothing happened.
I flick my gaze to the serpent tattoo on her left wrist. In all honesty Ishoulddo the latter. It’s what’s expected of me. Bounty hunters and pirates don’t mix. And ifI had my way I’d have her captain and the rest of her crewrotting in the deep already. Yet the last thing I feel like doing is running away from her and there’s no way either one of us can deny what happened in the water, the moment our lips touched.
Her brow raises, a silent challenge to see who will look away first. I vow to myself that it won’t be me—
Tavi clears her throat, and I glance her way.Damn it.
Both she and Elio are staring at Odi and I. Warmth unravels up my neck under the scrutiny of being caught staring at the woman I’m supposed to loathe.
The scent of pear and honey carry past me as Odi shuffles off the table. “I think it’s about time I go freshen up.”
I nod as Otto stumbles back into the room with an armful of glass bottles and bandages filling the atmosphere with his chatter again. Odi slips from the room like a ghost, yet the absence of her presence is felt deep in the soft part of my chest. The place I hadn’t allowed to see the light for some time. My hand finds the necklace in my pocket without thought, turning it over and over. It’s a habit now. A ritual. And still, the damn thing keeps its secrets from me.
