... or I do know exactly what I was hoping for. Evidence of the sorcerers having been there and having gone far, far away.
Aster’s drawn in on himself again, arms wrapped around his overly thin body, and I’m filled with the urge to fetch that blanket. Ican’t exactly erase whatever horrors happened to him in the past, but at least I can make sure he’s warm enough.
Slinking into the living room, I pad across the carpeted floor toward the sofa, trying to avoid disturbing Kit and his conversation with his brother.
“We might be in the slightest pickle,” a familiar voice is speaking on the other side of the scrying glass, the magic-fueled screen lit up just in front of where Kit’s standing by the window.
“Mhm. Did you go for the wrong type of ship again?” Kit replies drily.
“No, nothing like that. You know me. It’s the king’s ships or nothing.”
“Finch,” Kit says his name like a warning.
“Calm down, brother dearest. I don’t think you’re important enough to have your scry tapped. And unless we have a spy onboard, I don’t have one either. We can speak freely.”
Kit’s shoulders relax infinitesimally, and he glances over his shoulder at me, like he senses my presence despite not having made a sound.
“Fine. Tell me about this pickle and why you’re calling me.”
“I’m afraid we might have accidentally picked up a teeny tiny curse. One that’s preventing the crew from leaving the ship,” Finch replies. “Jack and Tor managed to avoid it since they were otherwise occupied at the time it took hold. But everyone else is... stuck. And you know how much fun it is having a restless, sea-bound crew on your hands.”
Kit lets out a little grunt and rolls his eyes at me, and I stifle a chuckle before I remember who he’s talking to.
The notorious Captain Finch. Fearless pirate captain.
The stories say that he took over his current ship following a mutiny where every single crew member got slaughtered. They sayhe hung the entrails of the previous captain from the flagpole. He’s wanted all over the kingdom and in the four neighbouring regions.
“How far are you from here?” Kit asks.
“Arriving tomorrow.”
Kit’s gaze remains on me, his expression speculative. “Well, isn’t that fortuitous? I could do with some time at sea. Things on land have becomecomplicated.I’ll be bringing a few people along with me”
“Is that right?” Finch replies. “That wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with whoever’s with you that you can’t keep your eyes off, would it? Got company, have you?”
With a little smile, Kit jerks his head, gesturing for me to come closer. As if my feet are drawn to him without conscious effort, I step toward him until I’m right at his side.
“Well, if it isn’t my favourite lion-haired thief. Hello, love, it’s been a while.”
As usual, a shiver goes through me at the captain’s raspy voice. I’ve never seen the man in person, and today’s no exception. His scrying glass is turned toward the wall, and all I can see of him is a knee.
... or at least I’m hoping it’s a knee.
“Hello, Captain. I hear you’ve been busy,” I say.
“Well, you know me, love. I have to fill the hole in my heart somehow.”
I don’t really know what to say. That’s the thing about Captain Finch. His actions should terrify any sensible person, but whenever I speak to him, I find him oddly disarming.
Maybe it’s because he’s Kit’s brother and I’ve never felt anything other than safe in his presence. Finch seems wilder than Kit, although they both share the same eccentric air that’s charming rather than simply being odd.
“Are you one of Kit’s tagalongs, love? Going to treat us with your presence in person?”
I meet Kit’s eye for a moment, an involuntary smile appearing on my lips. “I will be.”
“Well then, I’ll be happy to have you onboard. We shall see you in the morning.”
Before the scrying glass goes dark, there’s a pained squeal and a shadowy shape, like a giant, thick arm, travels across the screen. It pushes the scrying glass until all I can see is the floor.
