But it had felt right, somehow.
“Alright,” he said, the corners of his lips turning upwards in pleasant surprise. He placed a hand on her shoulder—then withdrew it, uncertainly—and then placed it there again, gently steering her into the cabin. “You’re right. Let’s go and warn the captain.”
Just then, the ship’s bells began to ring the alarm.
“I think they already know,” said Rinka.
Several of the crew ran onto the deck, bringing the last few passengers who had been out watching the sunset back inside.
Rinka stole a glance back before she entered the door. The ship was almost on top of them now. Whatever they wanted, they would have it soon enough.
The interior of the ferry was crowded now with all of the passengers in one place. By the time Rinka and Drystan entered, there was nowhere left to sit, so they stood against a windowed wall. Rinka tried to look outside, but the ‘lectric lights inside the cabin reflected off the glass and prevented much visibility into the rapidly darkening sky beyond.
“What’s the meaning of this?” asked an older dwarven gentleman, his overgrown moustache furrowing with each muffled word. “Why have you brought us all in here? I cross this passage ten times a year at least, and I’ve never had this happen.”
“Is there something wrong with the engines?” asked a Quarterling woman of a race Rinka did not recognize. “I’m an engineer.”
A pair of human crewmen looked at each other, trying to get the other to take responsibility for speaking.
“There’s another ship out there,” said an orc when neither of them spoke up.
“Pirates?” exclaimed a fairy.
A panic rose from the crowd. Gasps, the clutching of children and valuables closer to the chest, a couple of skeptics voicing their doubt, and even a very human scream.
One of the crewmen finally found his voice. “Now, we don’t know for sure if they’re pirates. This is a passenger ferry, after all.”
“So why put us all in here if you don’t think anything is wrong?” said the old dwarf.
“Just a precaution. Let’s all keep our heads. I’m sure if we keep calm and give them what they want, they’ll be on their way, and we’ll be just fine.”
His voice wavered on the last words as the sounds of a commotion came from outside: boots on the deck and voices shouting.
Rinka looked at Drystan, who had rested his hand on the hilt of the sword. His forearm twitched with every sound from outside the cabin.
Then there was silence. A long, tense pause in which the very air within the room seemed to stand still, no one daring to draw a breath. Even the children were silent.
Then the door burst open. A member of the crew in a slightly different uniform than the others stepped in. She was human, middle-aged, and had the harried appearance of someone who had recently been in a tussle.
“’Evening, folks. We’re in a bit of a situation here. I’d appreciate it if everyone could give us their cooperation to prevent further violence. The captain is assisting these—” She cut herself off, avoiding a word that would start a panic. “—ladies and gentlemen on their mission to lighten the load of our unarmed vessel.”
A pair of people entered the door: a man and a woman, human and elf, respectively. Their clothes were well-worn and salt-bleached, their heads covered by red bandanas.
Pirates.
Drystan tensed. He and Rinka were only paces from the door, but there were several passengers between them and the pirates.
“Alright, here’s how it’s going to go,” said the elf woman. She swiped her silver hair out of her face, revealing a huge scar that crossed from her left brow to the lower right of her jaw. “My friend and I here are going to come ‘round, and you put your valuables in this.” She held up a burlap sack nearly as large as she was. “Jewelry, rings, wallets, pocket watches. It all goes. You don’t give us any trouble, there won’t be any trouble. Any questions?”
The old dwarf who had been first to speak earlier leaned forward and opened his mouth but stopped short. There were few options. While there were a handful of men and women in the crowd who looked capable of defending themselves, there were far more elderly, children, and soft-looking folks who had likely never seen a fight, much less participated in one.
“Good,” said the elf. “Let’s go.”
The room was quiet as they watched the pirates go from person to person. A human woman wept as she removed a locket. The old dwarf crossed his arms over his large belly when they reached him, defiant. But when the elf reached for the steel at her side, he handed over his pocket watch and wallet with the rest.
Finally, the pirates made their way around to the final group of passengers, the benches nearest to Drystan and Rinka and the group who stood with them against the windowed walls.
“The ring too, old man,” said the human pirate. He stood in front of an old Halfling whose feet dangled from the bench. It was the man Rinka had helped board the ferry earlier, the one who had nearly been crushed by his own cart.
