Page 99 of Foul Days

“The two cabins at the end are free. You can sleep there.” Blackbeard gestured down the hallway. Kosara didn’t dare ask who lived in the other cabins. “Make yourselves at home et cetera, et cetera. Personally, I think I’ll have a nightcap, if you’d care to join me.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll head to bed,” Asen said. “I’m very tired.”

Kosara was tired too, but she was also curious: why had Blackbeard suddenly decided to play the perfect host?

“Come on,” Blackbeard said, sensing her hesitation. “Just one. It will help you sleep.”

“All right, just one.”

Asen gave her a long look, as if to say, “Be careful.” Kosara tried to reply with a look that said, “Don’t worry, he’s just a grumpy old bastard, but he’s not dangerous.” It was a lot of meaning to try to stuff into a look, but Asen must have more or less understood her, because he nodded and walked away.

Blackbeard led her to his cabin. The lampshade swung with the waves and the sea left salty marks on the windows. He sat behind his desk with his feet up and lit his pipe. A large wooden globe served as his ashtray. It was all painted blue, and here and there, someone had added handwritten notes and drawn sea monsters. The cabin filled with thick smoke, tickling Kosara’s nostrils.

“Wine?” Blackbeard asked.

“Sure.”

He pulled a dusty bottle and two glasses from a desk drawer. Kosara accepted her glass, pretending not to notice the greasy marks on it.

“Cheers!” He downed his in one gulp. Kosara took a swig from hers. The wine was dark red, almost black, and sour like Chernogradean lemonade. She tried not to make a face.

“You play dice?” Blackbeard asked.

“I’ve been trying not to gamble recently,” Kosara said, but he’d already taken out three bone dice.

“Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“I don’t have any money.”

“I don’t need money! What would I do with money?”

“What do you want to play for, then?”

He grinned. A few drops of wine ran down his moustache, colouring it red. “Stories.”

“What stories?”

“Interesting, preferably.”

Kosara smiled back at him. So, this was why he’d invited her over. There was nothing sinister about Blackbeard’s sudden politeness. He was just a lonely old man who wanted to hear a good story. And no wonder—he’d been stuck in that lighthouse, completely alone, ever since Algara’s murder.

Kosara threw the dice once, as a test run. Three sixes. Her luck obviously worked tonight.

“How about this?” Blackbeard said. “We’ll throw three times. The winner can ask the loser for one of their stories. The catch is, you have to tell the truth.”

“And how exactly would you know if I’m telling the truth?”

Blackbeard lifted his index finger in the air and wiggled his eyebrows, before he drew a dusty vial from the drawer. A few drops of bright pink liquid splashed at the bottom. Kosara would recognise the way it bubbled and climbed up the walls of the vial anywhere. Truth serum.

“That’s illegal,” she said.

“So?”

Kosara shrugged. “Nothing.” Why had she even mentioned it? She’d obviously spent too much time with Asen.

Blackbeard poured two thimble-sized glasses of truth serum and left them in the middle of the table, next to the dice.

“How about we play best of three?” Blackbeard said.

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