Chương 56: 4 Octopi Pie

"I don't have anything to say," I mumbled as I stooped and grabbed one of Brannik's backpacks. Throwing the flap, I dumped its contents across the market stall.

"Tony," Naomi said, crossing to the other side of the table.

"We need you."

"I'm busy." I threw rope, climbing anchors, and changes of clothes aside. Four vials glinted at me. Two potions of might, and two potions of grace—Bloodwake make. I grinned as I set them aside.

"Um, Captain," Drogo said.

"What's next?" I threw the bag aside, mumbling under my breath.

"I don't know, go prepare the ship or something." The two sailors exchanged a glance before turning and leaving.

"That's your ship?" Bianca questioned, following Drogo and Othess with her eyes. My shallop listed in the water, its hull warped, leaving her permanently canted to one side. The only thing that made it anything more than a large rowboat was the shredded mast stabbing up from the center.

"She does just fine." The second backpack emptied onto the table. Emergency ration bars. I hesitated, then shoved them over with the potions. Yeah, I was poor. Without Paradise's support, I needed to make every silver talon count. I pushed some common tools aside. A hammer, a hatchet, a pry bar—Dungeon gear I could easily replace.

"How did you find me?" I asked, hand going to the amulet on my chest that masked my location from the system.

"Easy," Bianca said.

"We just followed the murdered Exploits."

"It's not murder," I said." I just wanted to talk; they're the ones who took things personally."

"What are you doing, Tony?" Naomi asked, folding her arms and shaking her head. I slapped the second empty bag onto the ground.

"Making progress," I said, my voice clipped.

"That's not what she's talking about," Bianca said softly.

"The only reason we knew you were alive was that the system still shows that you have a pulse." I hesitated. I hadn't realized Ourabora tracked our vitals.

"We've sent messages," Bianca said, voice hurt. My eyes flickered to my HUD. <<System Notice: You have 453 unread messages>> I grimaced, then crouched to get the third pack. The bag's contents scattered across the table, and I grinned. Three full potion belts, mostly filled with Bloodwake-grade health potions. Tasting like hard liquor and filthy bathwater, they'd be hard to get down, but they'd do a much better job at healing than the troll brews I'd been relying on.

I plucked a small velvet pouch from the leather coils, working it open with my thumb. Sun glinted on cut gemstones—black opals, sun agate, spinel, tourmaline. Satisfied, I cinched the purse tight. The boys and I would eat well for a while. Bianca reached across the stall, grabbing my hand. I jerked away.

"Tony," she said, level and concerned.

"Why are you running?"

"Running?" I said. My lips tightened.

"Yeah, I'm running, but not away. I'm running toward Puppetmaster."

"Idiot," Naomi whispered.

"I'm sorry," I scoffed.

"I'm not going to sit around, ticking items off the High Family's grocery list while Puppetmaster rips this world apart." My finger jabbed at the holes in the sky, emphasizing my point.

"Now, you can go tell Granduncle if they want me back when I'm done, I'll consider, but until then—" I shook my head, pushing the potions into the 'good' pile. The fourth pack thumped down next, my fingers working the leather strap that held the pouch down.

"Granduncle didn't send us," Naomi said.

"In fact, some Uncles want to drag you back and have you tried for desertion." I winced. It wasn't anything more than I deserved.

"Bruk?" I guessed. She nodded.

"Well, if you came on your own—""We didn't," Bianca said.

"Livia sent us." I went still.

"Didn't expect people to worry about you?" Naomi asked, brows dipping.

"Surprise, jerk. Now, if you're done with your tantrum, can we talk about bringing you back in?"

"How's Mama?" I whispered. Bianca bit her lip, eyes tightening at the corners.

"I've been relaying her messages for weeks. You haven't even opened your inbox, have you?" A lump welled in my throat.

"I can't do this, guys."

"Oh, get over yourself!" Naomi snapped.

"Look in a mirror, Tony. You're sailing the ocean in a leaky rowboat. You're getting thin, and I hate to remind you, but you'd be in bounty hunter irons right now if not for us. Face it, we're stronger together." I stared at my hands for a long moment.

"I'm not killing you, too." The girls showed me the courtesy of a moment of silence as I forced down the tightness in my chest.

"You killed her," Naomi said at length. I flinched.

"I watched you hold the sword that went into her side. That's on you." My hands tightened.

"Idiot," she snapped.

"Puppetmaster killed Ingred—you don't get to take that. How selfish! Make it all about you. Did you never stop to consider what she wanted? What did she choose?"

"I knew what she wanted." Then I was back there, crouching over her before our final charge. I remembered her tears. She'd wanted to go home. She wouldn't have faced Puppetmaster if I hadn't asked her. If only I'd let her rest— I sniffed loudly, ignoring the blurred edges around my vision as I dumped out the last bag. Books and documents spilled out. My eyes widened. Intel. I snatched the first book and paged through it. Logs—a list of messages couriered at the behest of the Bloodwake.

I dragged my finger down the recipients' names, but stopped. After the first few lines, they were encrypted, the characters a mix of unintelligible gibberish. I set it down, opening a new one—a spell book of some sort. A tube of rolled parchment poked up from the stack, and I pulled it off. The leather ring around the middle came free, and I spread it across the open table. Naomi gasped. I glanced up.

"What?"

"Tony, where did you get that?"

"It's his." My head jerked at the corpse at my feet. She reached for the parchment, but I pulled it back.

"What is it?" I studied the ink illustration. An old, square bottle with a waxed-over cork.

"I'm sorry," Naomi said, folding her arms tight.

"This just became a High Family case. Cousin clearance and above." My eyes rolled.

"Give me a break, I've been hunting him for the better part of a month, and that path has led me to this." I started rolling up the parchment.

"So tell me what it is." Naomi shook her head.

"I've seen it before, but I'm not authorized to disclose details to civilians. Let's go, Bianca." The girls turned.

"Wait!" I cried, panic spiking. I rushed after them, gripping the parchment tube.

"Oh, now you want to talk?" Naomi said, voice dripping with feigned surprise.

"Don't be a jerk," I mumbled.

"Trust me, Tony," Bianca said.

"She's not the one who's being a jerk."

"I know. Look. I—" I dragged my hand down over my face, trying to wipe away the exhaustion that had been compounding over weeks.

"I'm sure there's a scenario where we can—" I would not say work together. I wouldn't drag them into a situation that could hurt them.

"Coordinate ideas." If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Naomi frowned at me for a long moment, not amused.

"Lunch," she said.

"Huh?"

"You want to talk, we'll do it as friends. Not Cousins, not a homicidal maniac. You're paying." My jaw worked soundlessly, but I found myself nodding.

"You know what? You're right." My stomach cramped, a low rumble gargling. When was the last time I had eaten?

"My treat." I shook Brannik's purse. Less than an hour later, we were sitting on barrels around a table made from a shattered piece of hull. Flies buzzed on a rack of fish that hadn't dried properly. Naomi's nose wrinkled.

"Takes me back," she said.

"Remember graduation day?" My lips twitched up. There was a big difference between lunch at Mrs. Moonfeather's Plaza Cafe and this run-down troll slop shack. Now, one seat was vacant. A bridge troll sauntered over, twice my height, long arms hanging past her knees. Her mop of messy hair framed a nose hooked over her upper lip.

"What'll it be?" she asked, voice nasally, and accent thick.

"The special," I said.

"And something sanitary to drink." She studied the girls in their Cousin attire.

"Twenty notes." I slapped four Bloodwake talons on the table.

"You get silver." She shrugged and scooped up the coins.

"Be right with you." An explosion rumbled in the distance, the vibration barely reaching us. Naomi and Bianca looked up, hyper aware.

"That's probably nothing," I said dismissively.

"Just another Firstday at Raft Town."

"That was a big charge," Naomi said, glancing at a new tail of smoke that was curling over the rooftops.

"Just the local gang bosses reminding each other about property lines," I said with a shrug.

"You'll learn to just sort of filter it out."

"Crazy place," Bianca murmured.

"So, what's the bottle?" I asked.

"So quick to business," Naomi's head tilted.

"First things first—how are you?"

"I'm excellent." I forced a smile under my baggy eyes.

"Productive." Her head bobbed as she sized me up.

"Bottle?" Her brows pinched together in disapproval. I sighed.

"How are you?"

"Horrible," she said.

"The High Family is shoveling me with quests, but my swordsman has gone rogue, leaving me with his share of the work." I winced.

"They haven't replaced me?"

"Why would they?" she asked.

"You're still operating, you're in our chats, in our logs. Do you have any idea how much work transferring Cousins across system access is?"

"Guess I don't," I said.

"Tony, I'm drowning, and you could really be the hand that pulls me back into the boat." The troll returned, stropping a steaming platter.

"House special," she announced, voice all nose.

"Octopi pie." Mugs came down next, filled with black grog.

"Thank you," I said, slicing into the slop with the serving ladle. My stomach grumbled in anticipation. Naomi's nostrils flared in speculation, but Bianca waved the ladle over. I burned my tongue on the first bite, cursing myself before blowing on my massive fork. Trolls got the gravy-to-everything else ratio right. Only it was best not to question the recipes. It tasted so much better if you didn't know what was in it.

"Bianca, how are you?" Bianca shrugged.

"Naomi's right, too much work for the three of us." My head tilted.

"Three of you, I thought you didn't replace me—" Realization hit.

"You replaced her."

"Standard operating procedure," Naomi said, "Parties need a minimum of four. You'll like Corin; he's got more experience than all of us put together." My lip twitched down.

"So, are you sailing with Captain Thalendris and Elara?" I asked, scanning the docks.

"Where's the Silver Zephyr?"

"We've got Elara," Bianca said, "but we came in on our own ship."

"New ship?" I asked, memory itching mournfully for the Ash Zephyr—our Scorched Fleet armored brig I had used as a battering ram. I'd consider myself lucky if I ever got a ship half as good— I froze as my gaze landed on it. Wide-hulled with four massive bow chaser cannons on swivel systems of cranks and gears. A packed gun deck hid cannon hatches that would reveal a tight line of carronades when deployed. A spiked ridge ringed the bulwark, sharp tips angled outward.

I hadn't recognized the Black Chain because it was the wrong color. It had been painted white and sky blue.

"You took Thaddius' ship?" I hissed.

"The Black Chain? Do you know how much blood her planks have seen?"

"We renamed it," Bianca said.

"The Winter Maiden." My eye twitched—the Winter Maiden—Ingred. A worthy tribute, but coming from such a former slave ship, conflicting feelings warred within me. I tried my pie again, and it was cool enough to enjoy. Brine, I was hungry. Naomi's eyes glazed over as she stared out into space.

"Are you chatting right now?" I asked through a mouthful of food.

"In contact with Tansey," she said, eyes darting as she read from her terminal, invisible to my eyes.

"I'm filling her in on the bottle."

"Why don't you fill me in? That's why we're here, right?" Naomi blinked, then shifted her attention back to me.

"It's called the Bottle of Souls. Nice work, Tony. You just told us what Puppetmaster's next move is." I straightened in my seat.

"I did?" She interlaced her fingers in front of her.

"The Bottle of Souls is a mythic artifact. That's no joke."

"Mythic?" I cleared my throat.

"Tier seven. Doesn't get more powerful than that, does it?" The girls exchanged a glance.

"The bottle's on Fel Rock, isn't it?" I asked. Naomi's head came up.

"How did you know that?"

"Our Bloodwake friend back there let it slip," I said.

"I had the where, just needed the why. So what does it do?"

"It has the potential to do a lot," Naomi said slowly, as if evaluating how much to give.

"Currently, it holds Zalathor, the Lich." I swallowed.

"Oh."

"Who's Zalathor?" Bianca asked, plucking the cooked end of a tentacle from her mush.

"The lich that used to rule Fel Rock," I said.

"He used to dominate the Shad-feykin," Naomi said.

"He's kind of our dark lord."

"Until your mom came along," I added.

"She sealed him away in his crypt. Or I guess it's in a bottle?"

"The bottle's in the crypt," Naomi said.

"Multiple layers of security." Her finger drummed on the table, a tick that was very un-Naomi.

"Also, my mother may be a powerful necromancer, but she's not that powerful. She had help."

"Leonardo Bloodshackle," I said.

"Vampire Lord."

"That's what you call him," Naomi buried her face in her hands.

"I call him stepdad."

"Okay, so what's happening?" Bianca asked.

"Puppetmaster wants to unleash Zalathor from his crypt? Why?"

"I'd do it," I said.

"If I were Bloodwake, and I were preparing to wage war on Paradise, unleashing the former Dark Lord of Fel Rock would bind up an entire coalition island. They'd be too busy with a civil war to help."

"I need to warn mother," Naomi said, eyes going back to flickering rapidly.

"Gotcha," I growled low. After chasing rumors and whispers, I knew the island. More than that, I knew the very crypt Puppetmaster needed.

"New quest incoming," Naomi announced, and a notification blinked on my terminal. Both girls read the details. I stared at the notification itself, not opening the announcement. Naomi noticed.

"Tony, you're hunting Puppetmaster, so are we. Our interests align. I'm asking you to trust me on this." I examined her for a long moment. Then, for the first time in weeks, I opened a system alert. <<System Message: Party Quest—Winter. Bloodwake agents are planning to release Zalathor from his crypt. Coordinate with Aunt Myrkrath and Lord Bloodshackle. Zalathor must stay entombed>> I glanced up.

"Winter?"

"We finally have a party name," Naomi said.

"Another tribute to Ingred." Tributes. What good were tributes? They wouldn't bring her back.

"Looks like we're both going to Fel Rock," Naomi said, cunning flashing behind her eyes.

"Want a ride, or do you think you're going to beat us there on your—" she considered what she wanted to call my vessel.

"Ship?" I took a sharp breath, studying her for a long moment.

"My men are my men," I declared.

"I'll have them help out, but they're taking orders from me."

"Othess goes to the brig," Naomi said resolutely.

"He's an escaped convict."

"No, he's my quartermaster," I countered.

"Tony, do you think he's your friend? He's not. I read his psych profile. Did you know he's incapable of feeling empathy?" I chewed on that. It made many pieces click into place.

"Doesn't matter, he's mine."

"Chain Tide wants Needles and Drogo back."

"They're working a contract," I said.

"They're mine too."

"Tony," she shook her head.

"Just come back. You're one of us. Stop playing pirate."

"Let's get something else clear," I said, leaning over the table.

"I'm not coming back. I'm catching a ride on your ship. I'm not doing your quest, I'm not working for your parents. I'm hunting Puppetmaster." Her lip twitched, and her voice softened.

"Tony, please."

"I don't want either of you anywhere near me when I find him."

"It's my home," she whispered. I went still.

"Don't want to be a cousin? Fine. Don't want to play by High Family rules, I really don't care, but my mother is in danger. My people are at risk. Help me." Bianca glanced from Naomi to me. My gaze fell on her hands; they were trembling. Her people. Not the High Family. The Shad of Fel were at risk, and my friend was asking me to help them. Tension eased from my shoulders.

"I'm not wearing pinstripes." She glanced up.

"Fine, I'll—I'll play nice." She inhaled to say something, but I cut her off.

"This isn't for the High Family. It's not for Paradise. It's for you. You need me, Naomi? I'll be there." She exhaled, tension draining from her shoulders.

"Great!" Bianca said, clapping her hands together.

"If we're going, we need to leave now!" Naomi nodded in agreement.

"Within the hour. Can you get your guys ready?"

"Oh, they'll be ready," I assured her. The girls rose, scooting their chairs back. I followed suit. Bianca hesitated before turning.

"Tony…it's good to see you." She smiled sheepishly, then followed Naomi. For a moment, I almost called her back. I didn't. After watching them go several steps, I turned back toward my boat. Othess and Drogo rose from the abandoned market stalls like sand fleas surfacing after a tide shift.

"Boss," Drogo said.

"What's the plan?" Othess asked, eyes narrowing at the departing Cousins. I glanced at my shallop. Warped hull. Listing starboard. Mooring line tight on the cleat, like it didn't trust the water. That little ship had carried me through storms it had no business surviving. I'd trusted it with my life. But a sailor went the way the wind blew.

"How long will it take you to gather the Kobolds?" I asked.

"Needles can have them ready in half an hour," Drogo said, hitching his belt up under his gut.

"Are we sailing with Cousins now?" Othess asked, eyes wrinkling at the corners.

"No," I said decidedly.

"We're just hitching a ride." I glanced at the Winter Maiden—white hull gleaming where black wood once drank blood. Bow chasers mounted on crank-driven traverse rings. Carronade ports sealed like clenched teeth. I smirked.

"Hitching a ride with bigger guns." <<Time to Seal Collapse: 02: 01: 02: 10: 17: 09>>