Page 12 of Shiver Me Satyr

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I mumble because I don’t know how to digest his story. What must it be like to be loved and treasured by your mother?! Eze and Greenhorn’s mothers built an island community to hide their boys from danger. Mine sneered at me while I was still rocked in a cradle. My wet nurse barely tolerated feeding me. Mother loved to taunt me withstories of the nurse’s crying when my father forced her to earn her keep.

“Mother died defending the island and the people she loved. I’m sure she’s still watching over me, but now with less control,” he says with a wink.

“So besides you and your fellow islanders, everyone else is anOtheron the boat, right?” I want to ask about Betts directly, but I can’t give away that I’m fishing for information on our captain without sounding insubordinate.

“Not Chub and his original hearties fromQueen Anne’s Revenge,” Greenhorn says, rubbing his chin. “Most of those guys stayed on the island, but Teeth and Branko were as human as I. Well, Branko had this ability to jump up two stories without a running start, but that’s a pretty stupid power if you ask me.”

I switch my tactics since Greenhorn seems chatty. “Did Branko and Magda like Betts? How did the transfer of power go?”

“Magda never met Betts—thank the good lord. Betts’s lack of humor combined with Magda’s bloodlust would kill us all.”

“I’ve read several of Magda’s journals,” I say as I offer him my most guarded secret. Despite his young face, he’s been on the boat long enough to know why Betts is in a perpetually bad mood. “Magda’s writings make her seem nice—”

I can’t finish the sentence because he bends over with a belly laugh that I swear shakes the entire boat.

“Magda, nice? She once drained a guy in a public dance hall. Gobshite grabbed her arse on the dancefloor and laughed when she thought Branko did it. We had to flee the island to avoid the authorities burning her as a witch. I grew up with awitch as a second mother—Magda was a she-devil—more evil than a witch could ever be.”

“Do you miss home?”

“Yeah,” he says with a wistful quality to his voice as if his mind is back on the island. “When an illness sweeps across the boat and we’re shitting through our teeth, I miss Chevelle. You never suffer long with a Hoodoo witch in your extended family. And the older I get, the more I want to settle down and have a family. Chasing skirts and bedding strumpets was thrilling years ago, but now I’m tired. I understand what Chub tried to teach me in the beginning. A plump set of dairy to rest your head on without worrying about them robbing you blind is worth all the three-penny-uprights and chorus girls on the planet.”

“He’s just a dairy chaser—”

“It’s not about her curves. She’s home—a wife, not an island. I’ve talked to Betts at length about it when we’re on night watch at the helm. Being married and having that person to walk beside you through life is what makes life worth living. I fear my lady love is on the island, and I left her behind for adventure…and pox.”

“Betts is lonely? Was she married?”

“Her story isn’t mine to tell,” he snaps. “And I’d become a better fighter before you ask her about it. She’s not as warm and open as her sister, Sabs.”

“She has a sister?”

“Many twins,” he says, picking up his shortsword and handing me mine. I guess our chat is about to end. “Her family is all over the ocean.”

I don’t have the time to ask what he means because his sword pokes me in the gut. My top half doubles over with awheeze. Greenhorn clubs the back of my head with the butt of his sword, sending me into the muck. I sit up, sputtering and spitting boat filth.

“I give! I give! Just don’t make me drink more of that. I may die,” I wail.

“Never turn your back on your opponent. Never use more energy than your opponent. Never assume your opponent isn’t about to kill you,” he says as he counts on his fingers. “And most of all—”

“Don’t let your guard down!” My interruption is enough to steal his focus. I grab his knees and rock backward. My weight rolls to throw my head to the floor, and this time, I don’t mind a face full of bilge slime. Greenhorn’s curses fill the hull before he falls with a deafening splash. His sword floats away, so I use my sneak attack to climb onto his back. As his long arms flail and grab at me, I get situated on his lower back to keep him from flipping over and throttling me.

“You’ve got the enemy pinned and unarmed, what do you do now?”

I freeze. I thought we would share a laugh and call it a night. He’d brag about my getting over on him while we share terrible hardtack, praying nobody chips a tooth. Never in my plan would he ask me what comes next as if the fight’s not over. I’m dumbfounded. The roar of the bilge pumps and the sloshing of the slime is his answer.

I have no idea. A real fighter who trained in Antarctica would have an answer.

“Listen, I—”

Greenhorn arches backward and grabs my shoulders with both hands. I’m flipped arse over head and slammed onto myback. Stars blink in my vision through the haze of sludge. My hair dances around my face as if mocking me. Better face him before he thinks he drowned me. I sit up and hug my knees to calm my quivering stomach. One more gulp of dirty water, and I’ll shite through my teeth.

“Tomorrow’s bath day, so I couldn’t resist,” Greenhorn says with an obnoxious chuckle. “Are you too tired, or can we go another round? This is fun.”

“Fun? Fun? You’ve had sex, right? Sex is fun. This is torture—”

“No,thisis torture!” He grabs me by the ears and pushes my face into the slime. His laughter fuels my ire as he holds me under the filthy water. This is one lesson I’ll never forget.

7

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