Darren tipped his head back and groaned. “We don’t have a quest to take over the world, Samantha. And we don’t have time for you to chuck a tanty, Wilson.”

  The coconut huffed and pushed through the grass back toward the cove. “Find me when you do have time.”

  As he left, Samantha moved up beside Darren. “I’ve never seen a talking coconut before. They’re usually more of the… screaming incoherently, type. He does seem blood thirsty enough though.”

  “He was a ‘gift’ from Poseidon."

  Samantha arched an eyebrow. “Not many receive gifts from the gods. And you have two? ‘Divine guidance’ on skills and a—I’m sure very charming—coconut? That’s quite the favour shown to a level 5 Classless…”

  Darren ignored the unspoken question, instead said, “We'd better go plan our next boat. How are you at crafting? Do you have any skills?”

  She shook her head and started walking to the opposite side of the clearing from where Darren had entered. “Shipwright is more than good enough for our purposes. I don’t have any crafting skills; not very useful for a captain.”

  Darren bit back a retort as he followed. Fine job she’d done keeping her crew together.

  It was gonna take some serious work to keep Wilson and Samantha from offing each other. He just had to keep them together long enough to get to Isla Cascadura. Though who knew what he’d have to do after that to get back home.

  After a few minutes, Darren noticed the steady sound of running water ahead of them, which grew with every step. Before long, they pushed their way into another clearing. A six-metre-tall waterfall draped itself over a cliff ahead of them, water splashing down into a wide, inviting pool before running down a large stream that disappeared into the jungle.

  A mountain peak towered behind the waterfall. Darren hadn’t seen it before through the dense trees. There had to be a decent spring up there for a waterfall of this size to exist.

  Darren somehow managed not to just sprint to the water and throw himself in. Everything about the place invited him in. From the gentle breeze that found its way through the trees, rustling leaves and swaying the short grass that led up to the water’s edge, to the sun high overhead, its light diffused by tall trees, leaving the pool in dappled light.

  On the far side of the clearing, a small camp with an A-frame canvas tent and a smoking fire pit sat backed up against a short cliff. At first, Darren was sceptical of the lack of retreat, but then he saw a thick vine hanging down the cliff face by the tent.

  “Build your own shelter over there,” Samantha said, pointing to the side of the pool closest to them, opposite her camp.

  Darren nodded. He didn’t blame her, and if he was honest, the distance made him more comfortable, too. Though they’d have to get over it if they were going to be on a boat together…

  “Shelter first or boat?” Darren asked.

  “Unless you have food, we need to fish first. Then shelter.”

  “Fair enough.” Darren kept quiet about his meat supply. There wasn’t a lot left anyway. “Lead the way then.”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  She led them to the edge of the pool. Darren again resisted the urge to dive in. He wasn’t that familiar with fishing, but he wasn’t game to risk disturbing them by splashing around before they fished. He could do that afterwards.

  A stool appeared in Samantha’s hands, and she set it on the bank. A rod and tackle quickly followed, and she sat. Then, with the deft movements of a veteran fisher, she had the hook baited and line cast.

  Darren stood by her side for a minute and rubbed the back of his head. “Don’t suppose you have a spare rod so I can help?”

  Samantha slowly turned to look him up and down. “Not one I’m willing to lend you.” She turned back to her line.

  He ran a tongue over his front teeth, frowning. Then he shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  He looked around for a flat strip of bank, spotting a section a few metres away. With a thought, he summoned his swivel gun, set up to fire buckshot.

  There was a thud behind him, and he turned to see Samantha on her feet, her stool knocked over. “What in the hells do you think you’re doing?”

  “Nice day for fishing, hah-hah!” he said. “What else would I be doing?”

  “Put that bloody cannon away, ya daft bastard!”

  “Well, I’m not about to go splashing around with a sharpened stick—as much as a dip sounds good right now—so it’s this, or I’ll leave you to the fishing while I go build a shelter...”

  “Fine!” She pulled a rod from her inventory. “We need a good supply of fish so we can focus on building and leaving. Just be careful with that rod, it’s special.”

  Darren unsummoned his swivel gun as he took the rod and sat on the bank. Samantha handed him some bait, and after a bit of fumbling, he had the bait hooked and the line cast.

  They sat in silence while birds chirped and squawked overhead. Insects buzzed around; flies still loving Darren's sweaty skin.

  It didn’t take long before Samantha reeled in her first catch. Darren was not far behind her.

  “So how did you really get a coconut?” Samantha asked at last.

  “That’s a story with some details I’m not sure I’m comfortable sharing with a stranger.” Darren could feel Samantha studying him, but he kept his eye on his line, which soon dipped, and he started wrestling another fish.

  “I was the captain of the Sea Witch,” Samantha said slowly, voice quiet. “We raided from Stormreach Cay to Whisperwake Isle. Feared by other pirates, hated by the crown, loved by commoners.

  “Captained her for fifteen years. It was a good life, though hard. Said goodbye to more than one friend.” A fish bit, and she lapsed into silence while she brought it in and recast. “As the crown increased its fleet presence here, though, pickings grew slim for a pirate brigantine. My crew wanted to go after settlements. I refused. But there’s only so long you can keep a starving screw together before some bright spark gets it in their head that they can do better.

  “They left me here three days ago. Now. Coconut?”

  Darren barked out a laugh. “You show me yours, I’ll show you mine, eh?”

  Samantha shrugged a shoulder.

  “Fine, you can have an edited version,” Darren said, choosing his next words with care. “I was in a fight, and I got knocked out. I woke up on an island nearby. Next thing I know, Posidon has decided to bring a coconut to life as a companion for me. He’s quite annoying but is loyal and has grown on me.”

  “Poseidon just decided to make a level 5, Classless man a living coconut as a companion?"

  “It is a bit strange when you phrase it like that, yea.”

  They lapsed into silence again, this one somehow more uncomfortable than before. Samantha clearly wasn’t impressed with his answer, but he really didn’t want to go into more details. Some were embarrassing, like how much effort he’d gone to to wander around with an inanimate coconut. Some were risky, like how he was a player. In his experience, NPCs from smaller settlements by and large were wary of players. It was hard to extend trust to someone who had no real motivation to play nice because death had no consequence.

  He wasn’t inclined to find out what Samantha’s stance on players was, not when he was so many levels below her. Trust was already a frail thing between them. No point stressing it with irrelevant information. He wasn’t a player right now.

  At least, all that was what he tried to tell himself as his guts twisted at intentionally misleading someone.

  She’s just code, he admonished himself.

  It didn’t help.

  They caught a few more fish before Samantha abruptly stood, her equipment vanishing into her inventory. She held out her hand for the rod she’d loaned him, and he handed it back, it too vanishing. “Get the fish. Time to knock up a shelter for you, then design a ship. Come on.” She turned and strode away.

  “Yes, mum,” he muttered as he stored the raw fish in his inventory and hastened after her.