Page 46 of Of Magic and Rum
Frowning, I smooth back Mary’s hair from her face. “The Afterlife?”
“Yes. Because I surely must be dead.” She moans, holding her stomach, and her cheeks puff.
“Howdoyou all have celebrations like this and still function so well the next day?”
Mary waves me off and lifts her shirt to scratch her ribs. “Little bit of water, a few vomits over the side once we haul away, and we’ll be right as rain. It just stinks first thing in the morning.” She snorts and elbows my side. “And you, darling, are a little vixen, aren’t you?”
“Pardon me?” I feign innocence, my boots thudding against the wooden ramp as we clamber on board.
“Don’t even try it. I saw you all over Jack, swaying your hips, tits in the wind whilst on hislap.” Mary prods me. “I like you more and more with each passing day, friend.”
“It was a fun night,” I say, flashing a cheeky grin.
Glog scurries past us, and I trot to catch up with him, quickly switching the frock coat wrapped around me for my linen shirt. “Glog,” I call after him, folding the jacket over my arm.
Glog is in his own world, distracted, but his face brightens when he notices me. “Anne. Good morning. How are you feeling?”
“Fine, but I need to ask what you put in that drink. I’ve never felt that kind of buzzing in my head before.”
Glog stands proudly with his fists on his waist. “Sea snail mucin.”
Queasiness forms in my gut, and I stick my pinky in my ear as if I’ve suddenly become hard of hearing. “Mucin? As insecretion?”
“Precisely.” Glog snaps his fingers. “This particular species of snail’s mucin is poisonous to small predators, and as a toxin, I thought to myself, it may act as a sort of psychedelic in correct doses with humans.”
My eyes grow wider with each passing word. “Your skills are wasted on food and drink alone, Glog.”
“Nah. It’s my passion. But I do get ravenous for outside exploration, and it’s not like I expected everyone to go around licking snails to test their effects.” Glog barks a laugh and scratches the back of his head, gaze glossing over in lost thought again.
“Well, it worked. I felt uninhibited but still somehow acutely aware.” Absently, I trail my fingertips down my throat, remembering Jack’s hands on my back and breasts as he poured the rum on my chest to make my scales appear.
“Splendid. I’ll whip you up a batch whenever you like, just let me know.” Glog gives me a tender smile before continuing.
We’ve hauled anchor and set sail within the hour, and by mid-day, most of the crew are back to normal, some puking their guts out several times to get there. I’ve kept myself useful by swabbing the decks and touring the ship, asking where others needed help. Every time I near the helm, I can feel his gaze on me, which bursts butterflies in my stomach. I’m constantly battling between keeping my distance from Jack so as not to arouse the crew and planting a million kisses on him whenI pass. And proudly, I’ve only snuck several kisses and a few careless whispers by the time the sun sets.
When the first blast hits, it’s minor enough for me to feel only the slightest vibration through my feet, and I think nothing about it. But moments later, when the second one goes off, it sends a chill down my spine, and an ominous pang clutches my gut.
“No,” I whisper, rushing to the ship’s side to watch the rolling dark waters. “It’s not possible.”
The first ripple is the faint call of Atlantis—a summoning I cannot heed. But the second wave, the much more intense one, belongs to a creature answering it—the Charybdis. It never breaches the surface. It waits for its prey to be underwater, where it has the advantage. And why would it try to attack me on a ship this large?
The creature calls my bluff when a colossal wave hurls against the ship’s side, turning the hull cock-eyed before leveling. I grip the railing and snap my attention to Jack and Duke at the wheel. The crew panics, looking to the captain to give them direction. But he has no idea what we’re up against. How can he?
“What the hell was that?” Duke asks, his gaze lifting to the blue skies void of ominous dark clouds suggesting a storm.
Jack peers over the ship’s side and sprints to the opposite end when he doesn’t spot anything. “Ready the cannons,” he yells, and the crew scrambles below deck while others keep their eyes peeled on the water.
I remain still, perking my ears for further signs of the Charybdis. Is it so much to ask that the monster got courageous at first and quickly realized it wasn’t worth the effort?
The ship violently lurches, only this time, there’s no wave accompanying it, only the alarming sound of wood cracking andcreaking. Sucking in a breath, I run to the helm, grabbing the stair railing when the ship jerks to the right, my knees buckling.
“Jack, it’s the Charybdis,” I shout.
Jack fiddles with his rings, an exasperated stare wrinkling his forehead. “Can you please get to the part where you tell us how to get rid of it?”
We can’t. We can only hope to attack it enough to will it away—for now.
“Don’t bother with the cannons,” I yell, a loudthumpresonating as the creature launches against the bottom of the ship.
