Dragonfire Sea

Bennett compressed his spyglass and slipped it back into his pocket. "All is well," he said, relying the message he'd intercepted.

Salt code, they called it; a way for ships to communicate with small mirrors to catch the light. They could move the mirrors in short and long flashes that conveyed messages to nearby vessels. It would allow them to better coordinate their arrival along the coast in Celenore.

He stood on the rear deck, gazing out over the vast stretch of sea between Lady Faith and the other ships, scattered both ahead and behind them. They dared not travel too close together. They'd departed at different times from Port Ice, so as not to arouse too much suspicion. Each flew a small blue ribbon on the highest point of the mast as an identifier.

"How many are there so far?" Mikkin asked from beside him.

He glanced over before answering. "Nine. Just two more, and we'll be set to lift anchor."

Their negotiations had been brief. After settling on terms with Cat in Port Ice, he'd spent the next few days in discussion with Mikkin, helping to coordinate between Mikkin's Dwargs and a number of merchant captains, all of which he'd vouched for. To see Mikkin's relief was satisfying, knowing he'd done the man a favor in lending not only his ship, but his recommendations to the Dwargs.

It wasn't out of pure generosity. He didn't do things out of the goodness of his heart. He had a crew to govern, after all.

Still, once he had come to understand what Mikkin's purpose was, he couldn't refuse. Especially knowing Lord Dubrael—the Dwarg lord overseeing the Dwargish preparations—would pay handsomely. And so his ship sat heavy in the water with Ice Metal once more, but not in its raw form like before. This was armor and weapons, safely stowed in the cargo hold.

Mikkin had insisted on traveling with him. He'd also insisted on bringing Jamie and that creepy little urchin, Unka. His was a merchant vessel. They hadn't balked in the slightest when he warned them they'd be sleeping in hammocks with the rest of the crew. "You'll be more comfortable on Harper's Song, with a cabin to yourself and some of the Dwargish soldiers about you," he'd tried. But Mikkin had refused. So here they were. Fortunately, he didn't mind Mikkin's company. Unka's however...the crew muttered plenty about the Gobelin.

Cat's head appeared on the stairs. The golden strands laced through her dark hair caught the light as she climbed the rest of the way up. Mikkin's eyes narrowed but he smartly said nothing. "Tris is fine," she offered in answer to Bennett's questioning gaze. "His ego was the only thing I couldn't mend." She crossed her arms and took up a stance a few paces away, staring over the water.

"Thank the gods," he muttered, relieved. He hadn't been sure how skilled she was. Had worried her magic would be pushed to the limits. "Perhaps I'll keep him away from the rigging for a time." Tris had been up on the masts, reattaching ropes when he'd slipped. It wasn't common, but it happened to even the most experienced when they gambled with fate. Tris was apprenticing as a boatswain, which meant regular checking of the pulleys and rigging.

Few had seen him slip, but all had heard the awful impact. They'd carried him below, moaning and wailing, straight to Cat's cabin where they laid him on the patient work table. She'd somehow weaseled a larger accommodation agreement out of him, after making it clear that having such a work table would benefit the crew. Today, her insistence proved worthwhile. He'd seen Tris's body atop it, broken, and thanked the gods he'd been a pushover.

She'd shooed them away and set about mending Tris's spine and shoulder, both broken but not beyond repair. Were it not for her magic, Tris would have died. Of that he was certain. Tris wouldn't have been the first he'd lost to ship accidents. But perhaps with Cat around, there'd be few losses to worry over in the future.

"He'll be following you around all moon-eyed after this," Bennett mused.

"Not likely, if he wants to keep his eyes." There was no mercy in her tone.

"I take it he's resting now?"

"I told him that if he moves so much of a muscle from the table before you've been down to scold him for carelessness, that I'll re-break his back myself."

Bennett winced. "That was...direct of you."

She shrugged. "I'm not here to play nice, Captain."

"No. I didn't think you were. I'll go down and see him now, then."

He made his way below, Cat following on his heels. Her cabin wasn't near his and Jonah's, having been partitioned from the large portion of the hull that housed all the rest of the crew. He tapped on the closed door to announced his entry, then stepped into the small room.

"Unka." His eyes fell on the green-skinned creature. "I didn't expect to find you here."

Unka hesitated. "Mistress said I was to keep watch," Unka supplied.

He glanced over his shoulder at Cat, narrowed his eyes in warning. She shrugged. "What? He wasn't occupied."

That wasn't what had surprised him. But he wouldn't be rude in voicing his thoughts before the creature, as much as he disliked and distrusted Unka. For Mikkin's sake, he was offering the benefit of the doubt.

Cat unceremoniously pushed past him into the cramped cabin. Rather than voice his protest in front of Tris, he followed after. Triss had his eyes planted on the ceiling. "I know what you're 'bout to say, Captain. I know I messed up."

"You could have been killed." Despite knowing it was an accident, that things like this happened from time to time, that Tris was one of the most sure-footed, well balanced, deft-handed of his crew, accidents happened to the best of them.

"Suspect I would'a were it not for Mistress Cat, here."

Mistress. Was the whole crew using that damned title now? Like she was the one in power on his ship. He held back his snort. "Yes, a good thing we have our Cat now." He didn't miss the way she tensed at his use of the word our, reminding her that she belonged to the ship now. That her life wasn't entirely hers anymore. "You've thanked her, I hope?" he added.

Tris's throat bobbed. "More than once, sir."

"Good. And you feel well enough to rise?"

"Aye."

"Good, then get back to—"

"Tris will be taking the rest of the day off," Cat cut in.

He rounded on her, gaze narrowing. "Is that so?" His fist clenched. He took a deep breath. Tris would be dead, were it not for her. "I suppose it's for the best. Well then, perhaps you can keep Mikkin company up on the deck," he said to Tris as he sat up and swung his legs off the table.

"Yes, sir." Tris scampered out of the cabin, probably glad to be free of the rising tension.

"Unka, I would like a word with Mistress Cat."

"As you want, Captain." Unka edged around the table, keeping him in his sights, before slipping out of the cabin after Tris.

Bennet made sure the door was closed, then leaned back against it. Cat ignored him, setting about to tidy the cabin, like it suddenly required her attention. "I wasn't aware your position gave you authority over mine," he said, his voice low.

"You hired me to be ship's healer. In my...expert opinion, I deemed it necessary that Tris rest for the remainder of the day."

"You healed him with magic."

"Right. But not his mental state."

"Since when do you care about anyone's mental state?"

She turned a saccharine smile on him. "Since you hired me to be healer, Captain."

He inhaled, letting his deep breath fill his chest, long and slow, before letting it free. "Very well."

Her smile widened further. She closed the distance between them until her chest was nearly flush to his and she had to look up to see his eyes. "What is it about my orders, Captain, that unnerves you?" Her voice dripped with a taunting edge.

"Careful, girl." Somehow she'd discovered the power she held over him. Realized it before he could realize it himself. But he was still captain of this vessel. So he didn't move—couldn't move even if he wanted to. Instead, he changed tactics. "How are you finding your first sailing? Is there anything that I or my crew can do to make your stay in this cabin more comfortable?"

There. She wasn't expecting that. A crease appeared between her brows. "You're joking right?"

"Not a lick."

Her chest fell. "I'm fine." She retreated across the cabin, fussing with the pillow and blanket that had been laid down on the worktable for Tris. He crossed his arms, eyes narrowed as he watched her. "Was there something you needed, Captain?" she said at last, turning to face him again. Her voice feigned innocence but there was an edge to it.

"I don't buy your answer."

"I don't care."

He ran a hand over his ropes of hair, letting his hed fall to rest against the door. "They like you, you know. The crew. Your falling in well with them."

"Again—don't care."

"Right." He studied her. She was dressed like the crew. He hadn't seen what she'd done with the dresses she'd brought, hadn't seen her wear anything feminine since that first trip ashore in Tortalia. While she dressed like them, unlike the crew, she cared for her wardrobe quite a bit more, keeping her clothes mended and smelling fresh.

He'd told her she'd have duties like the rest of them, and he hadn't been lying. She took watch up on deck, helped handle rigging, ropes, pulleys, and everything else the crew did. Took turns helping the cook at mealtimes, drew straws to remain on the ship when they took turns going ashore in Port Ice while they'd waited to depart with Mikkin. And he hadn't seen her complain a single time, almost as if she was intent in spiting him.

He'd hoped it would be a harder transition for her, truthfully. H didn't want to give her an easy time of it. Though, it didn't help when off-duty crewmembers saw her struggling with ropes and rushed over to either help, or take over entirely. He'd scolded Peter the first time he'd caught him at it. And then Emmon and Aaron. And then he realized he'd be doling out more punishments than he wanted to bother with if he continued down that line of reasoning. So he turned a blind eye instead.

Gods.

"I could use with a few ingredients for brewing," Cat said, breaking the silence. She stood with her back to him, like she didn't want to face him to ask.

"What sort of ingredients, and what sort of...brewing. Like, medicines?"

"Yes. Things simple magics won't cure." She turned to face him. Even on the other side of the cabin, they were only seven or eight strides apart. "Herbs, mostly. But also crimson mushrooms, horse nettle, hellrey root, shus bulbs..."

The cook kept only a minimal amount of herbs on hand—dried, at that. "We're at sea, girl. Where'do'you expect me to get crimson mushrooms and shus bulbs?"

"I don't know, Captain." She planted her hands on her hips. "Perhaps you should have asked me what I needed before we left port, if you really cared to know."

Heat rushed to his skin. He stalked across the room, reigning in his temper before he said something he regretted. Instead, he planted his hands on the cabin wall, one on each side of her shoulders. "And perhaps you should have told me what you needed to be an adequate healer. This is your job, not mine."

She didn't so much as flinch away from him. Instead, her eyes glittered and held his gaze. He glanced down at her lips before shoving away from the wall, away from the heat radiating off her body. "Make a list," he snapped, throwing the cabin door open. "I'll see what I can do."

"I'll do that," she snapped back. If she said anything more, he didn't know. The door slammed behind him and he stalked back above deck to the fresh air and the sea breeze, training his eyes on the sky where he found beaky soaring around, catching the sun on her colorful feathers.

Tris was exactly where he expected, legs planted, arms behind his back, keeping Mikkin company. He glanced around, checking to make sure everything was in order. Then went to find a slice of quiet where he could brood in peace.

***

"When I said list, I had something a bit more...brief in mind." Bennett glanced over the length of parchment on the desk before him. Gods, it would cost a fortune too, half the items here. Cat had taken the seat across from him, not that he'd offered it to her. She'd taken the time as he read over the list's contents to glance around his cabin before turning her attention before her, to pick up various items sitting out on his desk's surface.

She held his letter opener in her fingers, using it as a nail pick. "You told me to make a list. You never said it had to be short."

"You really need all this?"

"Thomas has irritable bowls. Yerik's been complaining about joint pain. Cleto has headaches, Zama belches something horrible every time he eats, shall I go through all the rest of them? No? I didn't think so. Truly, you cannot possibly expect my magical incantations to heal every ailment the gods devised. Or do you? Then you're more ignorant than I thought. Most of these things require magical brews."

He bit down on his tongue, using the pain to think through what he said next. "If I had a steely for every time I wanted to throw you overboard, I'd be a rich man."

She huffed and twitched her head to the side. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is this too much for you? Bit off more than you can chew with me? Rethinking your offer? Not quite the healer you signed up for—"

"Enough! Gods, enough. Spare me." They both sat glaring at each other, arms crossed. She'd be the death of him, this obstinate woman before him.

"If you're unhappy with my services, Captain, you're welcome to hire someone else."

He snorted. "We both know the crew'd mutiny if I did that, not that I have anyone else, lucky for you." He hesitated, glanced down at the lengthy list, read back over some of the items. "These won't all be easy to get, and expensive, too." She shrugged. "You do understand what sort of voyage we're on, don't you?"

"I'm not stupid."

He nodded. "We won't be stopping until we reach the coast of Celenore. And even then, that stop won't be more than wilderness. No big cities where we will be dropping anchor."

"And after that?"

"After that, we'll be on our way." At his words, she offered a stiff nod. A smile spread across his face. "Unless you'd like to stay after we unload our cargo? I'm told some of the king's own Drengr will be rendezvousing with the Dwargs to ensure their supplies and troops are delivered safely on land. Don't fancy seeing any of your old friends?"

"Very funny, Captain." For all her indifference, her skin had lost it's fiery glow. She kept her eyes on the sharp point of the letter opener in her hands.

"You can stay on the ship," he said, his voice softening. "There will be no word of you onboard. You will be safe."

"Whatever." She stood, tossing the letter opener on the desk, letting her chair obnoxiously slide over the wood floor. She didn't bother to push it back into place. "Since it will be a while, I'll do what I can with the herbs Cook has on hand. But for everything else..." She gestured to the list.

He opened and then closed his mouth, then said, "I'll see what I can do once we stop in the next port city. But that will be a couple of weeks from now."

"Fine." She hesitated at the door, her hand on the knob, her back to him. "For what it's worth"—her voice dropped low—"your crew would never mutiny no matter what you decided about me. They adore you." With that, she opened the door and slipped out into the hall. He gaped after her, startled by her words, surprised that she'd bother telling him something like that. The door clicked closed in her wake. She'd rendered him absolutely speechless. 

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Happy Friday Bookdragons!

I admit, I've been having way too much fun with Bennett and Cat's chapters. I might just write one more of them in this book. There's something about writing characters who hate each other, who are at each other's throats, that makes it so fun! Wouldn't you agree??

Okay, next week's chapter is titled, "Preparing for Solstice" and it's from Koldis's POV. Yayyyyy!!!!!

I've been sooo busy. I had a burst of inspiration for a new story. Usually when this happens, I write the main ideas down and tuck it away. I can't tell you HOW MANY times i've done this. But this time, I decided, to hell with it! So I've been staying up late, pushing myself to the limits each night after work, which has been absolutely grueling, but I want to get this new story in my head on paper. It isn't taking near as long as my Dragonwall books because the story isn't as complex. But I fear that if I don't just write it, I'll lose the excitement of it and I'll never get it back. 

I can't tell you much yet, it's a secret project. But I MIGHT start posting chapters for it here on Wattpad. It's different to what I usually write. While it's fantasy world based, it's also adult genre, there's lots of steam because it's a romance, and demon slaying witches!!! Helllooooo.

Okay, that's all from me for now. Have a great weekend and a great week. See you next Friday!

Mel