“As we informed the witch, the conch is a one-way ticket. You will have to secure your own return passage.”
“I have gold and iron to offer,” the alpha said.
“Passage on the Gibil Anzû cannot be purchased,” the captain scoffed, offended. “Sea voyage must be earned to be worth the risk.”
My father’s eyes glowed gold, belying his irritation, as the captain turned his back on him and shouted orders in a tongue I didn’t understand, spurring the crew into motion. Ropes flew, sails were released, and the ship began to slowly glide away from thedock.
The captain swiveled his head back in my father’s direction. “It is dangerous for us to tarry in this water.”
The alpha slid the iron conch back into his bag. “Understood. Still, I’ll hold onto this until we safely reach our destination.”
The captain stared down my father with wide, fishy eyes. “Do not think to double-cross us, Alpha Chaz McCarthy of the Evergreen Pack. Gods have tried and failed. They now sleep at the bottom of the briny deep.”
I hoped he didn’t mean literal gods. Dumping deities into an ocean seemed like a horrible idea.
Especially when we were about to cross it.
Dad didn’t so much as blink at the threat. “Noted.”
Appeased, the captain waved over the creepy fishman who’d winked at me. “Lakhmu will take you to your quarters. We shall set sail within the hour. You are free to roam about the ship, but do practice caution. If you or any of your crew falls overboard, we will not stop to rescue you.”
Dad’s nod was curt. “Understood. And I have a word of warning for you and your crew as well.” He leaned in, emphasizing his point with a feral flash of gold in his eyes. “If one of my people is intentionally injured while on your ship, know that I will not hesitate to burn this motherfucker down.”
Tension charged the air as the two males squared off, locked in a silent snarling contest of testosterone and machismo. Rust pressed in, assault rifle back in hand. Mackiel tightened his grip on his spear and pistol as my eyes swept over the sailors surrounding us, prepared to react if a single fishy bastard went for his cutlass.
“We have an understanding, then.” Captain Oannes’s gaze cut to our guide in a silent order.
Lakhmu stepped in and said, “Follow me.”
Turning on his heel, he took off. With one final glare at the captain, my father trailed after the leering fishman. The rest of us followed, Rust in front of me and Mackiel taking his place at my back, slipping through a doorway that put us beneath the foredeck. Circular glass windows let in enough daylight to navigatethe cramped space. Wooden barrels were stacked and wedged between the wall and the railing, forming a narrow walkway to a hatch in the floor. Without so much as a glance to ensure we were still behind him, Lakhmu disappeared down the hole.
Shifting the weight of his bag, the alpha gestured for us to stay back. Rifle hanging from his shoulder, he followed Lakhmu, descending each rung slowly, his muscles coiled and ready for an attack.
When he hit bottom, Dad shouted, “Clear.”
I descended the narrow, steep ladder into darkness next, my footsteps echoing ominously. Dad waited, gaze affixed to the shadows beside him. I reached the bottom, and as my sight adjusted to the dim light, a blue arm reached for me.
I drew my daggers, but Dad lunged between Lakhmu and me in a blur. He clamped onto the fishman’s wrist and twisted it behind his back, shoving his face into a wooden pillar. With a flash of metal, the alpha’s sword pressed against the side of the fishman’s neck, in position to decapitate the male. “You will not lay a fucking hand on my people. You got that?”
One side of Lakhmu’s face was smushed against the pillar, allowing me to see his widening grin. The creep appeared to be enjoying the altercation.
“I was only trying to move her so she did not block the way for the others.”
“I don’t care.” The alpha tightened his grip. “You touch her, you die. That goes for the rest of your crew, too. Spread the word.”
Rust joined us, watching Mack’s back as he made the climb.
“As you say.” The malicious gleam in Lakhmu’s eyes promised he’d welcome violence. “Now release me so I can show you to your quarters. We cannot set sail until I am above deck with my brothers.”
The alpha withdrew his sword and re-sheathed it. Pulling Lakhmu away from the pillar, he shoved him in the direction opposite to me. The fishman stumbled, then reestablishedhis footing, releasing an eerie chuckle as he strode down a passageway. My father threw me a seriously unnecessary warning glance to keep my distance, then followed.
Lakhmu led us to a musty room in the aft of the ship. Fragmented light drifted in from two portholes so covered in grime I couldn’t see out of them. Dad’s steps stirred up dust, the motes dancing in the faint rays of sunlight as they tickled my nose and made my eyes water. I fought back a sneeze, afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop if I started. Beneath each porthole, a large wooden trunk, covered in a thick layer of dust and grime, was bolted to the floor. Four worn, gray linen hammocks hung from the ceiling in the middle of the space.
“The sick bay?” the alpha asked, sounding outraged. “You expect us to sleep in the infirmary?”
Lakhmu sneered. “It is none of my concern what you do in here, but unless you want to bed down with the crew,” his gaze drifted to me, and a wicked promise glinted in his eyes, “you will accept these accommodations. We do not often take on passengers—at least, not willing ones—so this is all we have to offer.” With that eerie revelation, he turned to leave.
“Can we at least get a broom?” I asked, stopping him by the door. “Maybe some washrags and a bucket of clean water?”
