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The Shanty Codex I, by Saint Morgan LeFay.
The cramped bed created ample space for awkwardness, but Francis couldn’t care less.
Not when they had been on the run for days.
Fortunately, Leonie appeared to feel the same way, as she tossed and turned without a care in the world.
Despite his absence, Read’s shadow was ever-present in their lives, rendering everything mundane a potentially existential threat. It even took Leonie days to adjust to the sound of footsteps outside.
Francis wanted to lie down for a while longer, but the predicament demanded motion, and so he got up. Leonie mumbled some nonsense, but it was thankfully short-lived.
Francis wanted to be angry at the woman, even resent her for the amount of suffering she indirectly caused him, but he simply… couldn’t.
How could he? When her only sin was moving in a world that punished stagnation? Hating her was akin to hating himself. And as detestable as he was, his desire to push ahead was an understandable one.
“You’re acting weird,” Leonie said abruptly, eyes still closed.
The gesture startled him slightly, but he composed himself in due time.
“Just pondering.”
“As is often the case,” Leonie replied before yawning. “Any reason why you woke up first?”
Truth be told, there wasn’t. He knew that he had to do something, sure. But what exactly? Fail to find a ship again? Buy food that had seen far better days? It all felt… pointless.
“Are you okay?” Leonie said, seemingly sensing his unease.
Sharp as ever.
“Just the situation,” he replied truthfully.
“Would you like to talk about it?” Leonie asked as she got up slightly.
“What can I say?” Francis said with a sigh. “I’m just tired of living in hiding.”
Leonie’s mood turned somber at that, making him immediately regret his words.
“Quite the broker I am,” she said in scorn. “First, I nearly got you killed, and now everyone I know and love is in danger.”
“I wouldn’t blame it on you,” Francis said, attempting to cheer her up, yet she didn’t flinch.
“But it is my fault, isn’t it?” Leonie insisted. “I knew from the get-go that I wasn’t made for this, yet here I am.”
Remaining near the doorway felt inappropriate, so Francis decided to sit next to her. “What made you become an intel broker?”
Leonie chuckled bitterly. “Truth be told? I wanted to become a bounty hunter. But I didn’t think an Ignition artifact would cut it.”
You’re right. It wouldn’t have.
“You wanted an escape from stagnation, didn’t you?” Francis asked.
“Yes,” Leonie replied after a long moment of silence.
“Makes the two of us,” Francis added with a sigh. “I had it all back home. A stable job, a betrothed, even an artifact to protect myself when needed.”
Surprisingly, Leonie didn’t deflect, choosing to merely nod in acknowledgment.
“Why did you choose this path?” she asked, seemingly cautious.
It was a valid question—one Francis had no way of answering without lying to himself. Why did he choose such a life? Under normal circumstances, it would’ve been natural to come up with a nonsense excuse, but not here.
“Arrogance,” he said at last. “I thought I was worthy of more. Much more.”
“What about now?”
Her question was like a stab to the heart. Not long ago, he would’ve mocked the notion of one’s worldview crumbling in a month. Yet, here he was.
“Now I believe that the most insignificant things are the most precious.”
Leonie appeared to weigh her words. “You can go back, you know?”
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Her answer prompted another deep sigh. “No, I can’t.”
“I see,” Leonie said flatly, undoubtedly uncomfortable.
The response finally made Francis realize the amount of tension in the cramped room, prompting him to stand once more and head toward the door. “Same as usual?”
“Same as usual,” Leonie said, a semblance of cheerfulness returning.
***
The red navy coat that Francis had bought days ago wasn’t the most comfortable, but comfort was hardly his concern as of late.
The lack of information about Read was nothing short of suffocating; it was the equivalent of being put to the chopping block, just for your executioner to keep staring at you in silence.
Still, it bought him time—and time was in safe hands when he was involved.
“Speaking of time,” a masculine voice said inside his head. “The halfwit is but a day away from this island.”
What?
Francis looked around, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He attempted to scan the crowds further, but that would’ve only drawn attention to him, so he refrained.
“Who are you?” Francis whispered.
No response.
Confronting the entity was probably a bad idea, but he was done being prey.
“I know I’m not hallucinating,” he added. “You’d better show yourself.”
No response.
Huh. Maybe I am hallucinating.
His time with Saint Agnes didn’t help, as the woman made stopping time and reading minds a trivial matter.
Besides, she was one of a kind. Who else would have such powers?
Suddenly, a jolt went down Francis’ spine. As things currently stood, Saint Agnes only revered one person.
Rumpelstiltskin.
***
“Greetings,” Valeria said as she approached the ship once more. The forced politeness was suffocating, but she managed.
“Greetings, Deacon.”
“Have you come to a decision, Exalted Reverend?” The last part was half pragmatism, half irony. But she wasn’t worried—not when ships weren’t the brightest.
“Indeed, servant of Demise,” the ship replied, causing Valeria to feel slightly nervous. “I agree to your proposal. This cavern has grown rather dull.”
Hallelujah.
“When shall we depart, Exalted Reverend?” Valeria nearly burst out laughing, but she composed herself. She was calling a ship of all things an honorific name. What had her life come to?
“Immediately, if that’s suitable.”
The prospect was too good to be true. But then again, wasn’t her appearance equally as miraculous? The ship must’ve sat in total darkness for decades, with nothing but its thoughts. And silly as it was, the Submerged world didn’t care about notions of normalcy.
“Understood,” Valeria said before climbing the ship’s ropes in a dignified manner.
The thing should’ve gathered a mountain of dust, and yet the deck smelled as fresh as a vessel maintained by a dozen men. Still, it was too early to judge, as the darkness hid most details.
Without warning, the ship began moving forward—slowly at first, then accelerating, emerging out of the cavern in a mere minute.
Valeria’s black tricorne nearly fell, but thankfully, she held it in time.
“Could you please slow down!” she shouted, the wind swallowing most of her voice.
“Understood.”
The ship halted at once, nearly causing Valeria to fall. The scene would’ve been whimsical, if the thing didn’t outrank her.
“Where would you like to go now?”
Valeria didn’t hesitate. “Logreef.”
Since the two islands weren’t far from one another, it took the pair around ten minutes to reach the shores.
As if on cue, the air shifted.
“You felt it too, haven’t you?”
Valeria did.
It was neither a change in the weather nor the temperature. It was… ripples.
Valeria paid closer attention to the horizon and was greeted by black lumps emerging from the sea mist. The combination meant only one thing.
Valeria wasted no time, immediately jumping off the ship and running to the village as fast as she could.
Her blessings helped slightly, but it still required a great deal of effort.
“Captain!” Daisy shouted as she eventually emerged. “What’s the matter?”
“Read,” Valeria said frantically. “We need to get out of here.”
Daisy looked shocked momentarily, but to her credit, she quickly composed herself and ran toward the townsfolk.
The crowd looked confused at first, but her new First Mate appeared to explain the situation effectively enough, as the group didn’t panic.
The villagers gathered their meager belongings as best they could before following Daisy’s lead.
“Aren’t you coming, Captain?” the latter asked as she turned to Valeria.
“Not now,” Valeria replied before running in the opposite direction.
Valeria doubted that she would stand much of a chance against the division captains, but she could at least wreak some havoc before they dock.