Page 32 of Ship of Shadows
Leoni looked at me and mouthed, “What do I do?”
Fuck if I knew.Ididn’t even know what to do. I was a good fighter, but I wasn’t sure I could take on this man, especially in my weakened state.
“Please don’t butcher me into little pieces and throw me into the sea!” Driscoll said in a rush, throwing an arm over his eyes.
The man reached into the pocket of his trousers, and I readied myself to lunge forward and grab his arm, try and wrestle away whatever weapon he was about to pull out, but when he withdrew his hand, I paused in confusion.
He held out a little silver pin. Light caught on the round object, illuminating the trees carved into it and the circle of vines around the edge.
“I believe this is yours?” the man said, holding it out to Driscoll.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Leoni cuffed Driscoll on the back of the head. “This is what you woke us up for?”
Driscoll stared at the object, then took it and pinned it to his green silk shirt. “Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”
The man didn’t have any eyebrows, puckered scars in the place of them, but I imagined if he did, he’d be furrowing themright about now. “Wait a minute, did you say butcher?” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a kerchief, dotting his head. He stuffed the handkerchief back into his shirt. “The name’s Bartholomew. Your pin was so beautiful. I didn’t want you to lose it.” He tilted his head. “Why did you think I was going to butcher you? I don’t butcher anyone. I’m the one who writes all about the butchering.”
“Yes, Driscoll,” Leoni said, holding back her laughter, “why did you think he was going to butcher you?”
“Because . . .” Driscoll stated like it was obvious. “I mean . . .” He gestured to Bartholomew.
“Oh.” The pirate’s eyes widened as he looked down at himself. “You mean that I look like a man who could crush your head with my boot?”
“Yes, that,” Driscoll said weakly, his dark skin looking clammy.
Bartholomew clapped him on the shoulder, and the force of it almost made Driscoll fall off the ladder. “No, you don’t have to worry about that. I’m the bard. You might’ve heard of me?” He cleared his throat and flourished his hand in front of him. “Barty the Bard?”
We all stared at him blankly.
He began to hum, then broke out into song.
“What is happening?” Leoni asked.
“I don’t know.” Driscoll stared at the man in utter confusion as he belted out,
“The town is dark
The people aslumber
The Lost Boys are ready to plunder
They’ll steal your goods
They’ll take your wives
If you’re not careful
They’ll take your lives . . .”
He trailed off as we continued to stare.
Driscoll starting clapping, his eyes darting from side to side like he wasn’t sure if this was the right move.
Bartholomew scratched his head. “Really? You haven’t heard of me? That’s my most popular song. Sang it in every tavern across the Halios.”
The collection of human lands.
“Well, we are elementals,” I said. “So maybe that’s why we haven’t heard of you? We don’t exactly travel to Halios much.”
