The boat,he mouthed.
“Yeah, you see this one time—”
“Smee?” He crooked a finger at his first mate.
“Uh…” Smee looked between them before stepping closer to Hook, who threw his arm around his shoulders, letting his hook gleam near his face.
Hook dropped his voice to a low whisper. “When I lost that unfortunate bet, did you really choose to name myshipafter that bloody bird?” He pointed his hook toward the eerie skeleton, its bones bleached by the sun.
Sage snorted. “You didn’t know?”
A sideways glance did nothing to dim her humor, nor Tink’s, who bit her lip and looked away. Any idiot knew she listened to every word.
“Aye, aye, I did.”
Hook sucked in a deep breath, drumming his fingers on his taller friend’s shoulders. His ship, his pride and joy, was named for a bloody, dead bird on a witch’s door.
“Could be worse,” Sage offered.
Couldit be, though? He pulled away from Smee, his good hand in a fist. “We’ll discuss this later.Smee, Tink, with me. Sage, watch the street.”
The first time he’d pushed through the witch’s black door, he’d been a few new whiskers shy of a boy. She’d told him true what he wanted to know. Not that it helped. The ring sitting against his chest grew suddenly warm, heavy. Hook swallowed down those dark thoughts and entered the dim entrance hall.
Crimson drapes separated the room beyond. The moment he stepped through them, darkness and sharp, woody scent swallowed him. Thick, hot air, worse than the steamy day, buffeted his skin.
“Welcome, welcome,” a melodic male voice called.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Only a few low candles illuminated the tight room. Shelves overflowing with bottles, jars, papers, and all manner of things boxed themin. Herbs and drapery clung to the walls. It was less space than he remembered, far less than expected from the outside.
The shopkeep struck a match, lighting additional candles on the tall table he stood facing. Tink stepped closer to Hook’s side, and he fought the urge to wrap his good arm around her. This shop set his teeth on edge—how much more would it bother a pixie? Smee guarded her other side, and Hook lifted a brow. Every time his first mate scraped his nerves, he did something to soothe them again.
“How can I help you today?” Interest glittered from the man’s tanned face, swaths of green and gold makeup painted around his eyes.
“We’ve come to see the Green Witch.”
“Have you now? Perhaps I can assist? We have quite the variety of potions and tonics here for all your needs. You don’t look ill. A love charm, perhaps? Something to help the lady choose between you two?”
Tink stiffened at his side. “That’s not—”
“Oh, silly me,” he rambled on. “You two must be related. Same coloring and all.” He waved a dainty hand toward Smee and Tink.
Ridiculous. Anyone could see they weren’t related.
“We’re not here for any of your…” He bit back the wordsworthless swilland gestured to the room. “We need the witch’s insight.”
The man’s cheerful expression turned hard. Spindly fingers nearly covered by lacy sleeves drummed on the counter. “An exacting customer, I see. But the witch is very particular about whom she meets with.”
Hook’s fist tightened at his side. This painted boy had no idea who he was dealing with.
The man’s eyes coasted over each of them, nose wrinkling with distaste. “I’m not sure the everyday rabble can afford such—”
Hook tossed a pouch onto the counter. It landed with a jingling thump in front of the man, silencing him. His namesake arm slid from under his cloak as he advanced, coming to lean on the counter until the shopkeeper took a step back, swallowing.
Much better.
“Tell her Captain Hook is prepared to pay.” He slid a coin from the pouch and sent it rolling back and forth across his knuckles. Light from the candles gleamed off the gold, casting sparkles of light against the stuffed shelves. “She won’t find thiseveryday rabblelacking.”
“Ah, yes…” The man coughed, shaking himself as he pulled his gaze away from the coin. “Yes, one moment, please.”
