Page 7 of The Demons in the Deep: Extended Edition
“Can’t we stay at your family compound?” Kestra asked. “I know you said it’s dangerous, but isn’t an inn just as risky in a port city like this? I’d rather be near you.”
Flay grimaced, but he said, “Whatever you prefer, Blossom.”
Mai stalked away, resisting the temptation to parrot him in her shrillest tones.Whatever you prefer, Blossom. Anything you say, Blossom.
Flay’s relationship with Kestra had deepened over the past few weeks. It had become so ruttinghealthyand mutually respectful. The two of them were adorable, and so, so frustrating. Mai wanted to squeeze them and smack them at the same time.
Don’t you care that he’s gone?
She went below and packed up her things, including the sundry items she’d left in the galley. The thin fish soup Cook served at noontide tasted a little off, and the bread was so hard it made Mai’s teeth ache. She noticed that Kestra barely touched her food. Kestra was a skilled cook, the best on Kiken Island, and suffering through the meals that Flay’s ship cook prepared couldn’t have been easy. But Kestra hadn’t wanted to usurp the cook’s duties. It was odd enough for Flay’s men, having two young women aboard—though thus far, they had been nothing but respectful.
As Mai sat on a bench on the main deck, trying to chomp through the bread, two burly sailors came and planted themselves on either side of her. They’d helped Mai build her mermaid cage weeks ago, and ever since they’d been annoyingly attentive.
“Stragnoag’s a rough place,” said one of them, a big freckled fellow with a pleasant, cheerful face. “You’re likely to meet some unfortunate types there.”
“Baz speaks true,” chimed in the sailor on Mai’s right. His skin was deep brown, nearly as dark as Jazadri’s, and his shirtless torso gleamed in the sunlight. Mai could appreciate the symmetry and size of him, objectively. He was a fine specimen of human male. But neither sailor stirred any interest in her beyond a platonic friendship. She’d tried to rouse something within herself—had spent hours staring at the more attractive men aboard ship, especially when they were shirtless. But nothing had happened.
“We’ll all have to be careful,” she agreed. “Flay seems nervous.” Then she bit her lip, unsure whether she should say such a thing in front of his men.
“Aye, the Captain has a right to be nervous, as do we all,” said Baz, the freckled pirate. “His father’s a right nasty piece o’ work. Most of us were enslaved to him, you know—conscripted onto his ships because of debts or bargains. My father sold me to pay his debt. Corklan here was traded as part of a settlement with a rival slavers’ guild.”
“We were both in a sorry state,” Corklan said. “Weak and starved, used to beatings more often than not.” He shifted, turning his broad back so Mai could see the network of old scars crisscrossing his burnished skin. “When Flay—the Captain, that is—when he gathered his first crew, he selected the weakest sailors from all the other ships in his father’s fleet. Brought us all aboard, gave us food, respect, and a voice in our future. Told us if we were brave enough to sail with him, we wouldn’t have to be part of the slave trade. We’d hunt valuable things in the dangerous parts of the world, where no one else would go.”
“Like theasthorefrom Kiken Island,” Mai said.
“Like that.” Corklan nodded. “The only place the Captain ever avoided was that part of the sea where the great Entity lived. Other than that, we’ve gone hither and yon from the hive-caves of Derian to the lava beaches of Fiell. The hold carries more thanasthore—it’s got healing ichor, aster-spice, nyflower nectar, roc eggs, wyvander scales, goldtree saplings, and more. Because we bring those treasures, the Magnate lets us run with theWind’s Favorand doesn’t force us to take a slave route. All because of our captain.” Corklan jerked his chin up to the quarterdeck, where Flay stood at the helm beside Jazadri.“We’d die for him, we would.”
“That’s lovely, but—I knew most of this already,” Mai said gently.
“O’course you do. O’course she does, Corklan, you big dumb bastard,” said Baz. “Why you tellin’ her things she knows?”
“To make a point,” Corklan said, glaring at the other sailor. “Like we talked about, Baz, you buffoon—the point is, our loyalty lies with the Captain, and not his father. We’ll stand ready to protect our crew, no matter what comes. In the interest of which—” he cleared his throat— “Baz and I were wondering if you’d like an escort once we make port. We know you want to visit the university and some book shops, and you can’t be traipsing about Stragnoag on your own. So…”
“Are you volunteering to be my bodyguards?” Mai raised her eyebrows.
“That’s it.” Corklan nodded enthusiastically. “That’s exactly it.”
“You see, you’re so small—” Baz began, but Corklan shot him another glare, and he stumbled over the words. “What I mean to say is—”
“It’s fine.” Mai couldn’t help smiling at them. “I’m no fighter, I know that. But hanging around with me is liable to be very boring for you.”
“We can do anything you need,” Baz said. “Lift things, carry things, move things around—” He waved his freckled arms, miming each action.
“Fetch you food and drink while you’re studying,” added Corklan.
“And Flay is all right with this?” Mai shot another look up at the young captain. He’d removed his hat, and the sun shone bright on his golden hair.
“We’ve put it to him as a matter of importance,” Corklan said. “And he agreed. Except we have to help bring the cargo from the hold to his father’s storehouses. After that we’re all yours.”
“All yours,” chimed Baz.
“It’s a kind offer,” Mai said, rising. “I’ll think about it and let you know.”
Baz jumped up, nearly knocking her over in his haste. “I’ll take your dishes to the galley!” Before she could respond, he snatched the bowl and mug and hurried away.
“Thank you,” Mai muttered to his retreating figure.
She walked to the starboard railing, casting a glance sidelong at the jagged line of the port city growing ever larger on the horizon. The wood of the railing was sun-hot beneath her palms, and she lifted her face to the light, closing her eyes. Wind brushed salty fingers across her cheeks and trickled through her short dark hair.
