“Thanks!” I called after the receptionist as he walked away from me. “Jerk,” I muttered under my breath.
When I showed up at headquarters that morning, the front desk receptionist—a different one from the day before—had me sign a few forms and then led me out to the docks. They were around the backside of the mountain, and as soon as we came into view of them, he immediately hung me out to dry. I hadn’t been told where to go or what to do, and I guessed it was up to me to figure it out.
I flipped my wings out and took to the air, coasting down from the overlook I was standing on to the docks below. They were smaller than I expected; a series of five piers, three wooden up front and two concrete behind them, ran parallel out into the water a short distance, long enough to stack four ships end-to-end along each one. The concrete ones were most interesting, as they also extended back into the face of the cliff in what looked like a large tunnel.
I touched down at the base of the first pier and scanned around for anyone who could tell me what I needed to do. The receptionist hadn’t even given me the time of day, let alone instructions on what to do. A few hippogriffs were milling around the docks, some carrying tools and wearing sailor’s uniforms that I recognized from my time in the headquarters building. I took a few steps out into the building and turned in place, unsure of what to do with myself. A yellow griff with an oversized wrench was walking in my general direction, so I flagged her down.
“Excuse me,” I called, waving at her. “It’s my first day and nogriff told me where I’m supposed to go.” I punctuated my sentence with a shrug.
She gave me a knowing smile and pointed me toward the tunnel at the far end. “New recruits usually go to the lieutenant. His office is back there in the hole, big white door in the center. You can’t miss it.”
After the receptionist’s icy attitude, she was a welcome breath of fresh air. I thanked her and took off in the direction she’d pointed me.
“Good luck!” she called after me.
When I got to the hole, I got my answer as to what was inside it. The two bays that ran into it had floodgates in them, holding the sea back and forming a dry dock, where a ship was under construction in each bay. The hole didn’t go very far into the cliffside, only a little further than the length of one ship. Sure enough, there was a white door on the far wall, and I made my way towards it. A placard next to it read “Lieutenant Cedar Breeze, Chief Engineer.”
Was I getting put to work building ships?
It came as a small surprise when I knocked on the white door and it turned out to be made of metal, ringing loudly under my talons. I heard a muffled “Come in!” so I pulled the handle and let myself in.
The space behind the door was cramped, a little nook chiseled out of the stone just large enough to put an office in. The door opened to a small entryway on the furthest left side of the room, the office itself extending off to the right. Crystal magic-powered lights hung overhead, bathing the space in a bright blue-white glow.
“New recruit reporting for duty, sir,” I said as I stepped in, snapping a two-finger salute against my forehead the same way Seaspray had done when I’d left his office yesterday.
“At ease,” said Cedar Breeze, his tone dismissively casual. His bristly mane was dark and clipped short, and his plumage light blue. He was seated in front of a large wooden desk that shouldn’t have been able to fit into such a narrow space. Atop that desk were stacks of papers, tools, and blueprints strewn haphazardly about. Shelves on the far wall were piled high with junk, allowing just enough space for his chair.
He was in the middle of working on a blueprint, hunched over it in absolute concentration, measuring and drawing with a white pencil. He kept working for a few seconds, ignoring me while he focused. “So, you’re the griffon they sent me?” he asked, not looking in my direction. His voice was gravelly, like he spent a lot of his time yelling.
“Yes, sir.”
Cedar Breeze hummed, pushing his chair back and bumping into the shelf behind him as he stood up. When he first laid eyes on me, he raised his eyebrows. “Huh, they weren't plucking my feathers. You really are a griffon.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just blinked.
“You ever worked on a dock before?”
I shook my head. “No, sir.”
Cedar Breeze chuckled. “Thought not. You griffons never were much for sailing,” he said, pushing past me. “Come with me, I’ll show you your post.”
We left the office and walked out into the cavernous space under the mountain. “This is the dry dock, where we build our ships.” Down in the pit below us, the wooden skeleton of a ship was in the process of being assembled by a small crew of workers. The bay further to the left had a much larger ship in it, apparently almost ready to launch. I looked toward the massive steel floodgates that kept the sea out of the dry docks, and I decided that when they launched that new ship, I wanted to be there to see the gates open. The water rushing in was probably pretty cool to watch.
“You won’t be worrying about any of this stuff here, though,” said Cedar Breeze, pulling me from my thoughts as he led me out of the hole.
Ok, so I wasn’t building boats. A bit of a bummer, but there were plenty of other things to do around here. We continued out along the first concrete pier, seemingly heading for the end of it. A very conveniently placed rock out in the harbor provided a bit of shade thanks to the low angle of the sun, but it wouldn’t last for long—I could already feel it getting hotter, but I ignored that; if I wanted to be here, I’d just have to get used to it.
“We usually reserve the spots right in front of the dry dock for ships that are being outfitted or that got busted up pretty good. I call it the long-term clinic.” Cedar Breeze gestured to the closest one. I hadn’t cared to look at it when I first arrived, but the boat before me—Kraken's Beak, as the lettering said—was just as he put it: busted up pretty good. I could see the jagged stump in the center where the main mast had once been, and the whole thing was covered in seaweed and other little bits of debris that could have only come from the bottom of the sea.
“What sank this one, sir?” I asked.
“She got caught out in a squall and blew into some rocks. Spent about a month at the bottom before we found her and raised her back up.” Cedar Breeze pointed me toward the front of the ship, where a dock worker suspended by ropes was hammering on fresh-looking planks, probably a patch for one of the holes that sunk the ship.
“I bet it helps to have seaponies who can do the searching underwater,” I speculated.
“Aye, it does.”
We continued on our way. All things considered, the docks were smaller than I’d expected them to be. Two more ships were lined up ahead of us on the left, and an identical row sat on the right, all in better shape than the Kraken’s Beak. In the bay on the right, a crew was navigating a smaller ship down the center space, headed out of the docks.
We stopped at the next ship on the left. This one, the Summation, appeared fit for service and well-maintained, though it was considerably smaller than the Kraken's Beak—about two-thirds the size of the former. I knew there were terms for the different sizes of a ship, but now that I was here, I realized I had no idea what they were.
“This here is where you’ll be working.” Cedar Breeze strolled up a wooden ramp to the ship’s deck. I followed suit. “Resupply and light maintenance: getting these gals ready to go back out to sea.” A few other hippogriffs in the standard navy uniform were milling about the deck, each with some sort of implement in claw. One had a mop, another was carrying a crate toward the door to the bridge—that was one term I did know.
“It’s real simple. The supplies are all assembled by another crew, your team just cleans up the ship and loads up the supplies. You’re gonna be working below deck, so you won’t be out in the sun all day. I know you griffons don’t do so well in the heat, so I think this is gonna be perfect for you.” He gestured for me to follow again, and we went towards the door at the bridge.
How do you know so much about griffons? I thought I was the only one here. He hadn’t said anything bad, but saying I couldn’t handle heat well was probably born out of a stereotype more than understanding.
I decided not to bring it up, though, and instead focused more on the job. Working in the cargo hold wasn’t what I’d expected, but hey, it didn’t sound too bad. Probably a lot of heavy lifting, long hours, and repetitiveness, but I’d probably have some other crew members to talk with while I was here.
The door at the rear of the ship opened into the ship’s kitchen, a fairly small room with some appliances and tables for the crew. Cedar led us down a staircase to the left, taking us deeper below decks. At the bottom of the stairs was the cargo hold, a large, open space that ran the length of the ship. I assumed this space would be mostly filled by the time the boat was ready to head back out to sea, but I could see from one end to the other with no obstructions. On either side of the ship were rows of cannons, though not too many with this boat—maybe five to a side. Enough to mount a defense, but this ship didn’t look like it was meant for attacking.
The cannons were cool. I was hoping I’d get directed toward those, but instead, we turned for the rear of the ship. In the far corner sat a large metal box with an open top, and as we approached it, I could see and smell exactly what it was.
A dumpster.
“This here is your main responsibility,” Cedar announced. “Every ship that comes in will have at least one of these, usually on the port side. Your job is to grab a cart and empty it out. Shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours per bin. You can lift your carts in and out with a rope at the cargo hatch. You’ll get assigned a certain number of bins every day. If you finish early, you find somewhere to help out. Everything else, you’ll learn as you go. Any questions?”
“So... I’m a janitor?”
“It doesn’t sound so nice when you put it like that,” Cedar said, scratching at the back of his head. Then he shrugged, “But yeah, pretty much. There’s a door right next to my office; that’s the equipment room. Go get yourself a uniform and a cart from there. If you have any more questions, you know where to find me.”
He left me standing there in the cargo hold, staring at the mound of trash in that dumpster. I blinked a few times while the sinking feeling in my gut grew stronger.
I had joined the Navy—signed up to be a part of something cool, something worthwhile. And where did I get sent as soon as I got here?
It just freaking figured. Sure, recruit the griffon and stick him with the lowest job you can find. I stood there, staring at that damned metal box for a minute longer, growing angrier and angrier by the second. Could I raise a stink over it? Maybe. I could go off about how I was being forced into the worst job in the harbor because I was a griffon, play the species card, and possibly get moved up to something a little nicer at best.
But that would come at the cost of my reputation. I didn’t know anyone here yet besides Silverstream and maybe Ty. Without friends to back me up, I wouldn’t have any support if I decided to try complaining my way out of this.
No, if I wanted to be here, this was what I had to do. My anger tasted bitter as I swallowed it. Regardless of how much this utterly sucked, I had a job, and I was going to do it with a smile on my face. I marched myself out of the cargo hold toward the equipment room with my head held high, supported by what little pride in myself I could scrape together, given the circumstances.
I wasn’t going to let this get me down. I was gonna be the best damn janitor the navy had ever seen.
It was Saturday afternoon. I knew better than to bother Queen Novo on Saturday—The Royal Reprieve, as she liked to call it. It was a day she reserved for herself, barring emergencies. In fact, there was an obscure statute written down somewhere in the books that essentially translated to “Don’t bother the Queen on her day off.” I’d found out about it not long after I was promoted to a position where I regularly interfaced with her.
Protocol be damned. She’d already trodden all over it; I was returning the favor.
I swam with purpose as I entered the large underwater chamber that housed Seaquestria, my speed far exceeding the urgency required. Technically, the whole ordeal with the griffon wasn’t an emergency—more of a minor ruffle of the feathers, really—but I had a right to be angry about it.
The entire city hung from the roof of that enormous cavern like a great, pink crystal chandelier. The sprawling clusters of regular houses of common seaponies were suspended closer to the ceiling than the royal palace, which was the largest and lowest-hanging room among them all. I knew she wouldn’t be in the palace proper, instead probably off at the private royal spa adjacent to it.
She’d be cross with me for interrupting her private time, but that was just gravy. I bypassed the grand entrance at the base of the palace and headed for the small annex that was perched along its top. Through the translucent walls, I could see a single silhouette in the pink wall. There she was, totally unsuspecting of the heap of inconvenience I was poised to unload on her.
I smiled to myself as I reached the spa’s entrance. Regardless of how this went, at least the petty side of me would win by default. I ran a flipper across my dorsal fin—it felt odd to say that again; I hadn’t been underwater in a long time—and swam into the room.
The spa was small, but considering it was only ever used by a small claw—fin-full of the most important seaponies down here, it didn’t need to be much larger. Reclined in a tub, head wrapped in seaweed and cucumber slices over her eyes, Queen Novo sat poised like a statue. She seemed expressionless; for all I knew, she could have been asleep. No spa workers were present, so that was one less thing to worry about.
Anyone else entering the Queen’s quarters would have been burdened with a mountain of formalities, but Novo was a practical mare under the motherly exterior. Our relationship was and always had been business-first, and early on, we’d both agreed to forego the ceremony of ‘talking with the Queen’ in the interest of saving time.
“Ahem,” I cleared my throat loudly, announcing my presence. Queen Novo causally lifted up one of the cucumber slices with disdain, but quickly exchanged the look for a warmer, more diplomatic one.
“Seaspray!” she exclaimed, leaning forward and removing the other slice of fruit from her face, waving a fin to the spa chair next to her tub. “Come in, sugar, come in!”
“Queen Novo,” I began as I swam over toward the spa chair, which looked slightly odd to me. I’d been living on land as a hippogriff long enough now that the ergonomics of underwater life had begun looking foreign. The seat was shaped like a curved trough, built to conform to seapony anatomy. I settled into it, and it fit my tail and fins like a glove, even featuring a cutout in the back to keep from crushing my dorsal fin.
“Well?” Queen Novo looked to me expectantly with her deep violet eyes. “How is it?”
“It’s delightful,” I said quickly, putting forth none of the enthusiasm that word required. “Anyway, I—”
“Isn’t it?” She didn't notice my deadpan tone. There was a plate of some sort of kelp dish sitting on the edge of her tub, and her attention was on that instead of me. “Just had it installed last week. I think I’m gonna have them move my throne room in here so I can hold court in that baby.”
I grumbled at her interruption, and knowing her, she’d small-talk me until I forgot why I was here in the first place. I decided to cut to the chase. “Queen Novo, I’m very cross with you.”
She wheeled back toward me, her smile replaced with flat lips pressed together. “The budget was finalized three months ago. If you have complaints, you’d best bring them up when I’m not on my personal time.”
I shook my head, fighting the urge to slap my fin over my face. “You know exactly why I’m here.”
I expected a knowing smile, an admission, maybe even something coy that would play with me and give me the runaround, but instead, Queen Novo blanched at me and shrugged. “I actually don’t.”
My head was about to explode. “The griffon,” I snarled.
Novo’s eyes widened, a smile crossing her muzzle again. “Oh!” She threw her head back and laughed. “That. I forgot all about him. How’s he doing? Silverstream was over the moon talking about him.”
My eye twitched. I’d come here puffed up, ready to lay into her for stepping all over my authority, and she had the audacity to not even remember what she’d done. Every fiber of my soul wanted to fly off the handle and scream, but I knew better. Regardless of our less-formal arrangement, I was still speaking with the Queen herself. I needed to rein in my emotions and keep myself respectful.
It was a good thing I was a General. Had I held nearly any other position, I likely wouldn’t have had enough self-control drilled into me to keep myself in check. I took a deep breath and swallowed the knot of rage building in my throat, but my eye twitched again—something told me that was going to be a recurring theme during this conversation.
“I don’t think you appreciate the magnitude of what you’ve done.”
“Apparently I don’t.” Novo angled her head. “What’s wrong with him?”
“What isn’t wrong with him?” I growled. “He’s—”
A realization crossed her face. “Ohhh, I get it.” She shook her head slowly, eyeing me with disdain. “General Seaspray, I didn’t realize you felt that way.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Discriminating against that boy just because he’s a griffon. I thought we were past th—”
Something snapped. My vision went red, and I leapt out of my seat. “DAMN IT ALL, WILL YOU LET ME SPEAK?! THIS ISN’T ABOUT HIS SPECIES!”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Queen Novo was taken aback; I could see the first hints of anger crossing her features already. I didn’t care. I was in deep now; may as well make it worthwhile. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done by forcibly inserting this griffon into our ranks? Any inkling of the implications?”
“I did you a favor?”
“If you call sidestepping proper procedure in the name of nepotism ‘a favor’, then we’re obviously from different ends of the planet.”
“I think it’s well within the bounds of my power to do that. I’m the Queen here, remember?”
I took a breath and let it out slowly. I’d used up all of the runway I had with that outburst, so there was no more room to be angry. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should.” Her expression soured and she opened her mouth, no doubt to flex her authority on me. I needed to stay on top of the conversation to keep it from grinding to a halt.
I held a fin up, stopping her. “Before you yell at me about insubordination and send me away, hear me out. I fear that hiring the griffon may have set a bad precedent for our Navy. We have rules for a reason, and they are made to be followed. We have a carefully structured process for bringing in recruits. We scrutinize them to make sure that they’re fit to serve before we even send them to training, and they aren’t given positions until they have completed their training.
“I have a group of recruiters whose entire jobs revolve around that. They take care of that work so those higher up—” I gestured between the two of us “—can worry about bigger, more important problems. The South Sea Rulers’ Summit is coming up next month, and you should be worrying about that more than some griffon who needs a job. I’ve got reports of renewed pirate activity near Greenfin Island to worry about. Neither of us has time for this kind of thing.”
“Is that all?” she asked.
“Not quite. There’s also the question of his citizenship. I saw in the paperwork that he is being hired as a quote-unquote ‘mercenary’, but who’s to say that if something happens to him that the Griffon Empire won’t take issue? That’s a foreign relations mess we don’t need.”
I paused to let my brain catch up to my mouth, and then made my final approach. “There’s an old saying: ‘Leave the crumbs for the mouse.’ This whole issue is something we shouldn’t even be bothering ourselves with. There is too much important business to attend to for us to get caught up in a recruitment issue. I hope this sort of thing doesn’t come up again in the future, but I want you to consider that your actions have consequences. Consult me before you go meddling in the Navy’s business.”
“Are you finished?”
“Yes,” I said, floating back down toward the chair. Gauging from her response, I’d done nothing productive by shouting, but at least I felt better.
“I see your point. There’s a lot of considerations that go into something like this, and I apologize for not telling you about my plans first. But…” Novo paused to flash a smug, self-assured smile. “I got two words for you, Sea-Bee: Rock. Hoof.”
There it was.
“I remember you decided—on your own—to allow an Equestrian into the navy with no questions asked. I think you actually gave him a ranking position on the ship with no training, no worries about his citizenship status.” She paused, letting it percolate for a moment before she went in for the kill. “And what happened?”
“Th-that is precisely the thing I’m trying to avoid,” I stammered, knowing that I’d been had.
It was a flimsy defense. “The ship sank about ten minutes after you brought him on,” she said, twisting the knife like she hadn’t even heard me. “Don’t give me that ‘concerned about the state of affairs’ crap. You and I both know that something as small and insignificant as bringing one recruit in for three months will mean nothing in the long run. You came down here and barged in on my private time because you got your claws stepped on, and it’s got you steamed.”
I wanted to squirm in my seat but kept my posture rigid. Emotionless.
“Now,” she continued. “I could stoop down and be just as petty as you. Maybe, I dunno, throw out a formal reprimand, trim back some of the excess funds I’ve personally awarded to the Navy this year.”
A lump formed in my throat, but swallowing it would show a crack in the poker face.
Novo shrugged. “But I’ll be the bigger fish here. When Silverstream came and begged me to give that griffon a job, I almost told her no. She’s my niece, I want her to be happy, but there was a lot she didn’t think about. However, I realized the potential benefit hiring the griffon could give us.”
“Benefit? How could something this ‘small and insignificant’, as you put it, possibly benefit us?”
The queen smirked. “PR.”
I cocked an eyebrow.
“As I’m sure you know, the Griffon Empire has been opening trade agreements for the first time in decades. Adding a griffon to our ranks could be an opportunity to open a dialogue between our nations. We are providing valuable employment and education to a young, orphaned griffon who hasn’t ever been given a fair shake. What about that doesn’t sound like the press is gonna eat it up?”
That was a point I had to concede, but I didn’t want to afford her the satisfaction. My face stayed flat.
“Honestly, I would have expected a tactician like you to see that angle,” said Novo. “It’s going to be a little tough in the short term, but it’s going to benefit us in the long run. The griffons have a lot of coal and gold that I want for Mount Aris and Seaquestria, and this could give us a fin up on the competition. Hearts and minds, Seaspray.”
I grumbled and nodded. “And what of the rules? Are you going to step all over my work every time it’s convenient for you?”
With a chuckle, Novo waved me off with a fin, picking her cucumber slices up from the edge of the tub. “If it means that much to you, I’ll talk to you before I mess with the Navy. Alright?”
“I hope so,” I groused, leaving my seat. I heard her laughing to herself as I swam out of the spa. I’d had enough of being underwater already, and I headed straight to the surface. My pride was bruised, but hopefully, it had been worthwhile if it meant she’d stay out of Navy business.
At any rate, I needed a drink.
The oil lamp sitting on my desk was the only source of light in the room, and for that matter, it barely put out enough light to be useful for anything past decoration. I sighed to myself, some part of me wishing I’d sprung for one of those enchanted crystal ones that ran on magic. They cost a lot more, but they lasted pretty much forever—until they were broken somehow. That last part was what scared me about them. On a ship, nothing was ever certain, and the last thing I needed was an arcane detonation in the wheelhouse because we hit rough seas and my lamp fell over.
It would definitely make writing my midnight logs easier with more light, but the old, battered oil lamp was reliable. It’d come with the ship when I first became captain of the Deliverance nearly twenty years ago, and it had served me well. In fact, it was the only thing older than me on board.
Just as I’d written thousands of voyage logs over my years, I put the finishing touches on the official record of another quiet day on the South Sea. Nothing out of the ordinary; we’d traveled nearly three hundred miles that day thanks to fair winds and gentle waters. We were about fifty miles off Greenfin Island now, and tomorrow, we’d hopefully reach Mount Aris before sunset. It would be nice to finish our voyage on a Friday, giving us the weekend off before we set out again. The crew would surely appreciate that.
Personally, I was just ready to see dry land again. We’d been on the water for two weeks, carrying a load of grain from Zebrica, my homeland. Nothing exciting or out of the ordinary, not even an interesting load to think about. It was just another trip, passing the same old landmarks I’d seen a thousand times with nothing of note to break the monotony.
I leaned back in my chair and sighed, dropping my quill in its inkwell. I supposed I should have been thankful for things being so quiet. It had been barely two years since I’d been freed from running shipments for the Storm King’s army, my forced conscription into his service having lasted for over a decade. It was horrible, working under constant fear like that, but I missed the excitement that came with it. It seemed like every voyage was a different adventure back then, some unknown thing always occurring as a result of the madness this part of the world was then under.
I didn’t miss those days, to be sure, but a little intrigue would have been welcome. I still wasn’t used to the quiet.
I rose from the chair, my old bones protesting as I came up to full height. It was bedtime now that all of my duties had been accomplished. I picked up my lamp and left the bridge, stepping out into the nighttime air. Early summer nights had long been my favorite for how comfortable and calm they were. All around the ship, the sea was an endless field of sparkling diamonds in the night, moonlight shimmering off of the nearly still waters.
A quick stroll around the main deck was in order before I turned in. I needed the fresh air and exercise, anyway.
“You asleep up there, Cris?” I called toward the crow’s nest. The lookout, Crisanti, was a relatively new addition to the crew, having signed on while we were in port in Ornithia, the parrot nation to the west of the hippogriffs, over the winter.
“Not until you are, Zalo,” he said, peering down toward me over the rim of his post.
I chuckled. This had become a bit of a tradition over the last few months, the two of us exchanging a round or two of banter before I turned in for the evening. I usually tried to keep things professional among the crew, but I’d taken a bit of a shine to the kid since he joined. He reminded me of my son, cocky and confident as he was.
“Any icebergs tonight?” I asked.
“None so far,” said Cris.
“Good. Make sure you stay alert. They can sneak up on you when the water is this glassy.”
“If I see one, I’ll be sure to come wake you up personally.”
“And that’ll be the last thing you do before I throw you overboard.”
“Parrots can fly, you know.”
“Not with wet feathers.”
“...Touché.”
We shared a short laugh, and I started forward on my walk, headed for the bow. I noted a few ropes out of place, left loose on the deck. I’d have a word with the likely culprit tomorrow, but for now, they’d be fine as they lay. I started making my way back toward the bridge, and I got about halfway across the deck before Cris spoke up again.
“Captain,” he beckoned, words clipped with urgency.
“Iceberg?”
“Ship.”
I quirked an eyebrow up at him. “That’s… normal? We’re not the only ones sailing out here.”
“No, it’s close.” Cris pointed toward the starboard bow, and I followed his mark out to a single dot of light that was, sure enough, maybe a half-mile out.
“Was that there a minute ago?”
“No. It just popped up.”
“Toss me a glass,” I ordered. He dropped one down, and I caught it carefully in my hooves. I pulled the telescope out to full length and took a look.
As described, there was a lamp out there. I couldn’t make out much detail even with the spyglass, but I could instantly tell there was something missing. At this distance, even at night, a ship’s sails should have been obvious in the moonlight, standing out against the darkness of the water.
This ship’s sails were black.
I felt a knot tighten in my gut, and I closed the spyglass. “Mungu tusaidie,” I muttered to myself in my native tongue. “Get below deck, wake the crew. They’re heading right for us.”
“On it.” Cris leaped down from the crow’s nest and glided for the hatch, disappearing inside well before I managed to get back up to the bridge.
I climbed the ladder as swiftly as my old, mildly stiff legs would take me. I burst into the wheelhouse, where the first mate, a hippogriff named Emerald Green, was at the wheel.
“Em, take us hard to port,” I said, closing the door behind myself. I doused my lamp and placed it carefully next to the door.
She complied with my command before she asked, “What’s up? Icebergs?”
“Ship off the starboard bow. Pirates.”
Em nodded and continued the turn while I went about putting out the lamps in the room. I’d dealt with pirates before, and I knew it was pointless to try this. Killing our lights would do little to improve our odds of escape at this point, but it made me feel a little better.
I stepped back out onto the deck and took another look through the spyglass. Sure enough, the ship was getting closer. I could see more lights on it by now, the ship’s profile a small black dot in the middle of a bright reflection on the water’s surface.
The hatch to the lower decks swung open, and one by one, the crew filed out, Cris leading the way. A couple of zebras like me, another parrot, and two Abyssinian cats. Each ran to take their place at one of the ropes. If the sails caught the wind just right, we could increase our speed. Escape was nearly impossible, but we could at least delay them.
I knew we were going to have a meeting shortly, but it couldn’t hurt to try. The sails turned, grasping at what little breeze there was that night. It was enough that the Deliverance lurched faintly as it caught more air and picked up some speed.
That lantern grew brighter and larger, though it was an agonizingly slow chase given the lack of winds. It took nearly ten more minutes before the pirates were directly off the starboard side, beginning their turn to approach alongside of us.
“Steady as she goes,” I announced, though the assurances probably rang as hollow in my crew’s ears as they did in my throat. At least we’d made it slightly harder for the pirates to board us, but our efforts were meaningless in the long run.
“Incoming!” shouted Cris. Against the backdrop of the stars, I could see three dark figures soaring toward us. They landed on the roof of the bridge with heavy thunks: one, two, three. Three parrots, two of fairly large builds compared to Cris, stood atop the wheelhouse near the mizzenmast, overlooking everyone on the main deck.
“Evening,” said the smaller one in the center, the leader most likely. His voice was calm, almost bordering on friendly, but I could sense the venom lurking under the surface.
“State your business!” I shouted up at them, holding my lantern higher.
“Not wasting any time, are we?” said the parrot leader. “I am Captain Sternclaw of the ship Green Haze. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” I said, keeping my tone as nonchalant as I could.
“It will soon enough. I take it you’re the captain?”
I nodded slowly.
“I’m taking over this ship and all of the cargo she holds. You can surrender peacefully, and you have my assurances that you won’t be harmed.”
“And if we don’t?”
“You don’t want me to answer that question.” Sternclaw hopped down from the bridge onto the deck, followed by his henchbirds. He stood a head taller than me, though he was scrawny. I couldn’t make out what color he was in the darkness, but the orange of his eyes stood out: piercing and fearless, like he was poised to strike at any moment.
“So! How about it then?” he asked, his tone sounding off—far too chipper for how mean his face looked up close.
I took a glance over my shoulder at my crew, who all stood behind me, ready to back me up. I knew a couple of them had swords, though I didn’t have a weapon on hand.
“There’s more of us than you,” said Cris, stepping forward, toward the pirate captain.
“Maybe so, but do you want to take the chance of how many parrots I might have waiting on that ship?”
“Maybe we’ll just take that cha—”
A terrible blast ended Crisanti's sentence early.
The henchbird on the left pulled a flintlock pistol out from his coat, and with no hesitation or warning, shot Cris in the chest. My lookout crumpled to the deck with a gasp, and before I had the chance to react, I heard a click next to my right ear. I stiffened. Sternclaw had a pistol of his own pointed right at my head.
“You went and made me answer that question, Captain. I told you it wouldn’t be good!” He laughed a manic, wheezing laugh that sent chills up my spine. “Now then, I’ll ask again. Do you surrender, or do we have to do this the extra hard way?”
I stole a glance at Cris, who lay on the deck, gasping for breath, and my heart sank. “Yes, we surrender.”
“Good,” Sternclaw said with a disturbingly appreciative smile, but he kept his pistol trained on me. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
I drew a shaky breath. “Someone check on Cris. Now,” I ordered and Emerald carefully made her way over to the fallen parrot, keeping her movements slow and careful, making sure not to get herself shot as well.
“A little more business to attend to, then,” Sternclaw continued. “What’s this ship carrying?”
“Zebrican grain, nothing else.”
“Zebrica grows some good oats,” he commented, then looked to the parrot on the right. “Go check below decks, see what they got.”
The henchbird that hadn’t shot my lookout nodded and disappeared down the hatch.
“How’s he doing?” I asked, not daring to move.
“He’s bleeding bad,” said Emerald. I heard a faint whimper from Cris.
“Such is what happens when one gets shot,” said Sternclaw.
His casual manner about gravely wounding someone made me seethe with rage. I shot him a glare. “You are a real piece of shit, you know that?”
That got a laugh from the two pirates on deck. “You’d be surprised how few creatures actually have the gall to say that to me. I admire your courage.”
“Just calling it like I see it,” I spat.
“Indeed.”
“What becomes of us when you’re done?” asked Emerald.
Sternclaw shrugged. “I’d love to bring you all aboard my ship, but I’m afraid there’s just not enough space. Once we get things settled here, you can take those lifeboats and sail wherever your hearts desire.”
“And the kid you just shot?”
“I wish him the best of luck.”
If it hadn’t been for the pistol pointed at my head, I’d have jumped on him and torn him apart by now. He was lanky and thin, clearly not strong enough to take on a zebra one on one, even an older one like me. I heard rummaging from below decks, and the third pirate emerged a moment later.
“Looks like just grain. I grabbed a little from the crew’s quarters, but this thing’s pretty dry.” He held up a necklace that I knew belonged to Emerald, along with a few other items.
“Such a shame, all that for a little jewelry,” said Sternclaw. He picked up my oil lamp from the deck and regarded it for a moment. “You’d better start preparing that lifeboat now.” With a grunt, he hurled the lamp over the side of the ship.
A knot formed in my gut as my lamp sailed out of sight for the last time, but I was more confused than anything. It made no sense to throw a lamp overboard, but before I could question it, I got my answer: It was a signal. Within three seconds, I heard a terrible whistling sound from the starboard side, followed by splintering wood. Water sprayed up from the side of the ship, splattering us all with icy droplets. The report from the cannon on board the Green Haze split the stillness of the night wide open, and then two more cannonballs struck within a second of each other.
“It was a pleasure making your acquaintance. Until next time,” said Sternclaw, spreading his wings and lowering his pistol. He and his henchbirds took off, slipping into the darkness as quickly as they’d come.
By the time they vanished, the Deliverance was already listing to the side, and I barked, “Abandon ship!” The crew scrambled to life, rushing toward the lifeboats. I went the opposite direction, rushing to Cris’s side.
“He’s not going to make it,” said Emerald, her talons soaked in blood.
“Don’t tell me the odds. We have to get him to the lifeboat. Cris, you still with me?”
The parrot groaned weakly, the noise coming out as more of a gurgle.
“Turn around,” I told Emerald, picking Cris up with ginger hooves. His feathers were soaked from the gaping wound in his chest, but I managed to sling him over Emerald’s back without disturbing it too severely.
“Walk slowly,” I ordered, and we made our way toward the lifeboats. They were already prepared by the rest of the crew by the time we reached them. Emerald climbed up and over the side of the ship with care, but every little jostle to Cris tore at my nerves. He was in bad shape, but there was a first aid kit on the lifeboat: possibly just enough to save his life. When Cris was safely laid into the bottom of the lifeboat, I hopped in and began lowering us down to the water while Emerald tended to his wound.
The lifeboats got clear of the sinking Deliverance , and the stricken vessel slipped below the surface a few minutes later. The pirates responsible had long since vanished into the night.