Page 70 of Garden of Poisoned Delights

The ship had been found, someone had written a tiresome and dull treatise on masts and gunner compartments of all things, and nary a word of Captain Arwyn and his exploits survived. Arwyn had given a copy of the book to Nyx, who liked history books as long as his former empire wasn’t in them, and had been about it until they’d heard about the museum.

When they decided to visit, he’d assumed it would be the same as the book, pieces of the mast with a boring little plaque talking about shipyards in the old Age of Princes or whatever they called that period of Iperian history. He hadn’t expected to see much but rotted wood and maybe a few tarnished flagons behind glass.

Except that when they walked into the exhibit, The Lost Treasure of the Pirate Ship Maelstrom, the first thing they had seen was the flag. It was tattered and stained with plenty of pieces missing, but there was a mostly accurate artist’s recreation lovingly rendered on a plaque beside it.

Scholars theorize the skull design was meant to convey danger to other ships, while the jewels and crown signified this particular vessel might have belonged to a high-ranking captain or “pirate king.”

“They got the design right,” Arwyn said, glancing back and forth between the replica and the original. It was behind glass, which made Arwyn frown in consternation when he reached out to touch it. “This explanation is all wrong, though. It’s just my face, and I’ve never wanted to be king of anything.”

“Please tell me you’re not getting mad at the informational plaques I didn’t expect you to read, Shadow,” Declan murmured fondly. “You did act like you were king of your domain on that ship, I remember it well.”

Arwyn tossed his hair and scowled. “That’s not the same thing and you know it, Dex.” He tapped the glass again. “Personally, I find defying a king and taking away his kingdom far more dashing than sailing about pretending I am one.”

“Everyone thinks that story is a myth, remember?”

“Sir,” the teenager called, sighing, “please don’t touch the glass.”

Arwyn’s eyes narrowed, but before he could chide the impudent service worker for their disrespect, Dex said quickly, “Let’s go see if one of these other informational plaques will soothe your ego.”

“Doubtful,” Arwyn muttered, and followed him along to the next. He was slightly mollified by the sign leading into the main exhibit hall, which read:

The Maelstrom is unique among pirate ships of its age for its increased number of cannons and the opulence of its captain’s quarters.

“You never could do anything by halves, could you, demon?” Dex said, grinning at him.

Arwyn shrugged. “I don’t see the point, no. Let’s move on.” He gave another considering look at the flag behind the glass, and tugged Declan through to a large exhibit room full of glass cases, plaques, and another teenager, this one leaning against the wall and reading a book that they hastily shoved into their coat when they approached.

“Please let me know if you have any questions,” they said.

“Thank you,” Declan said.

“We won’t,” Arwyn said, and smiled when he heard Dex’s quiet laugh.

The exhibit was broken up into several sections, with the first being Daily Life, and focused mainly on the practical aspects of living aboard a ship. Most of the artifacts were for the regular sailors, and included slightly-dinged tin cups and bowls, a mostly-rotted wooden table, and one of the rope hammocks where the sailors had slept.

Next to that was a roped-off area where a recreation had been constructed. It was, all in all, a decent representation. There were wooden people sitting around the wooden table, holding cups or leaning forward as if playing a game, with others standing about and watching. There were marbles on the table, but in a strange configuration, and of course while the sailors would have been playing Winter, only the marbles would have survived that long under saltwater.

Sailors playing an unknown game with glass marbles.

Dex smiled a bit. “Losing, if they were playing against Iola. She was even better than you.”

Affronted, Arwyn crossed his arms over his chest. “She wasn’t the best. That is my brother.”

“Well, yes, but no one wins against him.”

“Nyx has,” Arwyn said, but his voice sounded a bit mulish. It was still unthinkable to him that someone could beat Death at his own game.

“Come on, Shadow. I’ll let you win a game when we get home.”

“You’ve never let me win a game of anything,” Arwyn glanced over at the teenager, who was surreptitiously reading their book again. Arwyn reached over, quick as a cat, and nimbly plucked one of the marbles from the table and slipped it into his pocket.

“It’s probably just glass,” Declan said, as they moved toward the next portion of the exhibit.

“Obviously,” Arwyn drawled. “That’s what all marbles are made of, Declan.”

“I’m surprised you know that, given how long ago you lost yours,” Dex said, and laughed at his own joke.

Another case had buttons from uniforms, a sewing kit, and an old water filtration system that was erroneously referred to by the plaque as a fermenter for beer.

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