Page 114 of A Flash of Golden Fire

“We’re not going to die. Everything’s going to be fine,” I said, hoping those words would soothe me as well.

“Pummel the blackguard! Take him out back!” Esmaralda shouted as if she could intimidate the weather into easing.

“Shh, my pretty girl,” Domingo cooed. He gazed at me in apology. “I didn’t have time to cover her cage.”

“Perhaps she can distract us,” I suggested.

Domingo gave me a mean look. “You’re fucking delusional. We’re all going to die. We’re going to end up on the bottom of the sea and the fishes will feast on our bones!”

I sighed and then shouted a little too loudly, even with the crashing of the storm and shouting above us.

“Get a hold of yourself, man!”

He looked at me as if I’d grown another head. I was a little surprised myself.

Esmaralda said, “You are a cunt!” but I knew she didn’t mean the insult. She was frightened as well and flapped about restlessly in the confines of the carrying cage.

I continued in a volume somewhat more controlled.

“For one thing, you almost caused a literal shitstorm when you barged in here. I’m barely controlling my bowels right now. And I know the captain has this under control.AndHillier. The crew will keep us afloat.”

I tried hard to believe my words.

“Do you think so? But—”

“Theywill. They have to,” I said, tightening my grasp on the bedpost as the sextant tumbled off the captain’s desk.

“Oooh, that’s his favourite thing to play with—other than me,” I commented, watching the instrument slide to the other side of the room.

Domingo barked a laugh that was half amusement and half cry of terror. Mostly tension relief.

The ship lurched in the other direction, and the sextant went sliding across the floor, along with a selection of other items.

“You’re remarkably calm for someone holding onto this bed for dear life,” Domingo commented.

“It’s called self-control, Domingo. You should try it.”

“What a trollop!” Esmaralda said, then gave a whistle of appreciation.

“I’m calmer already just being near you. Even though I think you’re deluded if you think we’re going to be fine.”

“What’s the point of expecting the worst? Besides, you don’t want me to panic.”

“Why not? The bowels?”

I gave a half-hearted laugh. “Not only. If I panic and feel like our lives are in danger, I could call up another storm on top of this one.”

Domingo’s face went even paler. “Fuck. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“It’sallI’ve been thinking of.”

There was a tremendous crash of thunder and a flash of light that illuminated the very struts of the groaning ship. Esmaralda was struck to silence, and Domingo and I found ourselves in a frantic embrace, holding each other like these were the end times. It certainly felt that way.

When the world didn’t end and the shouting and lurching of the ship continued, we released each other and uttered embarrassed apologies.

“All right. Go back to your own bedpost,” I muttered, ashamed to have lost my composure.

“No, I want to stay near you,” Domingo said, clutching the same sturdy post as I and sounding determined.

---