“Suits you. Okay moon girl. See you soon.” And then he’d shut the door in her face.
Marrick hadn’t won. Not that year, nor the next. But then he had, and he’d been her personal trainer at Club Beast these past six months.
She was going to beat that damn kraken; she knew it in her bones.
And her win would not be the Cup. Or the prize money. She’d happily forfeit both. Her prize would be a meeting with the Kraken leaders. To find out what happened to her family. To Tomas.
In her tiny kitchen, Luna opened the rusty fridge, (everything always turned rusty in the marshes) and found a few limp lettuce leaves, a piece of curled ham and a chunk of dried out cheese.
She sighed. There was a wizened apple in the fruit bowl. She’d been spending too much money on training and notenough on food. Even though Marrick had given her a great price for her sessions with him, you didn’t earn much at the docks. She sniffed the ham. It was okay, it wouldn’t poison her. She’d fry up the bread and melt the ham and cheese over it. Throw out the lettuce but eat the apple.
She’d just sat down to her makeshift meal when there was a knock on the door.
Checking the spy hole, she was relieved to see it was her other friend in the whole wide world, Harper. Harper was a genuine half elf, half human, one of just a handful who now lived and worked in Motham. They’d met at Sweet Clams café where Harper worked as a waitress, on one of Luna’s pay days, (the only day she could afford to buy chowder). Harper had given her a second serve for free. They’d been friends ever since.
When Luna opened the door, Harper shoved a big, yummy smelling container into her hands.
“For you. From me.”
Luna’s nose worked at the delicious fragrance. Chowder. A huge pot of it.
“Heard you weren’t eating enough.”
“Who from?” Luna grabbed the container like it contained pure gold and walked back into the kitchen.
“Sweet Clams is goss central; you know that.”
Luna tried to set her chin into stubborn mode, but in front of Harper—sweet, kind-hearted Harper, it wouldn’t comply. Her shoulders sagged. “Thank you.”
Harper hooked her butt onto one of the crates that Luna had got from the docks and pretended were stools, even made little plywood seats to go on top. When you lived alone you came to be your own handy person.
She could feel her friend’s eyes boring into her back as she put the chowder on the stove.
“So, how’s it going?”
“Good”.
“Training going well with Marrick?”
“Ok.”
“Can you give an answer that’s more than one syllable,” Harper grumbled.
Luna gave a smirk over her shoulder. “That’s not fair, the last word was two.”
“Yep.”
“Hey, stop taking the piss.”
Yep.” Harper giggled. “Actually, I need some advice. Guy related.”
“Wrong person.”
“You’re my best friend and you’ve had gazillions of relationships.”
“Hook-ups.”
“Yes, but you’ve done the whole dating thing and other than stupid Wyatt I’ve not— you know, really dated anyone at all.”