Leviathan
Siobhan
Despite the worsening relationship with her deity, Annabel prayed for a normal day for almost two months straight and received one; for Poppy and Arabella, this meant several boring weeks of classes, but for the rest of us, it was time to decompress from a nearly incomprehensible series of events in the first week of school. Most of my classwork was either research into music and bardic tradition or vocal practice, even though I only needed it for the larger spells—and I did vocal exercises every morning and evening; one morning in late October, I’d arrived to Aguefort early and stood on the sidewalk with Poppy, waiting for the bus. Arabella was in Poppy’s backpack, and Annabel jogged up just as the bus stopped down closer to the corner, Dugan exiting and waving to us.
“It’s supposed to rain today.” Arabella was excited at the prospect, while Poppy looked at the sky as if contemplating trying to cut the clouds apart; Annabel was on her crystal. However, Poppy, Arabella, and I all saw as a puff of purple smoke preceded the opening of some sort of portal, from which a scarred and tattooed arm reached out and wrapped around Dugan’s throat, pulling him through just as the portal vanished with a poof that didn’t even alert anyone nearby.
“Holy shit.” I nodded to Poppy, who put a hand on her sword as Annabel looked up in confusion.
“Arm was scarred, must be some kind of mercenary.” Poppy shook her head after an admiring look at my analysis, Annabel wising up that a situation was happening and gripping her staff tightly.
“The tattoos. One of ‘em I recognize—Leviathan. Ready for a vacation, ladies?”
My accrued allowance over a life of frugal spending was more than enough to afford a teleport to the pirate city, but we were presented with another problem upon notifying the vice principal that one of our party members had been kidnapped, again. After stepping outside, the four of us realized that none of us had a car we could take to Bastion City, where the only available trip to Leviathan was—but Annabel merely raised an eyebrow.
“You do know that Solace has a robust public transport system, right? Buses, trains, even a few hot air ballons. Let’s just take a train.” Another bit of gold spent on four first-class tickets, but by the third course of a five-course optional dining voucher I was reconsidering the price tag heavily. Annabel and Arabella explored the train for much of the trip, leaving Poppy and I in the dining car to eat a second breakfast—before casting spells, I liked to have a full stomach. Poppy, however, wasn’t eating anything.
“Not hungry?” She raised an eyebrow at me over a sip of tea.
“Already ate. Appreciate you worrying about my macros, but I’ve been tracking them since I was a kid.” I rolled my eyes and caught a glance of the passing countryside through the window, pausing to watch rolling fields and highways flash by us.
“Why are they after Dugan, y’think?” Frowning in thought, I turned my gaze back to her as she drew something in her notebook.
“I’m not really sure. Think I should call my mom?” Her eyes brightened, a rapid nod getting me to dig out my crystal and call my mother, former pirate Delo the Red.
“Hello, mother.” The sounds of furnaces, crucibles, and milling equipment faded as she presumably stepped into an office before I got a reply, turning it onto speaker and setting it on the table between us.
“Siobhan! Wind to my sails, how are you? I just heard from the school that another of your party got kidnapped, eh? What’s that about?” Blushing slightly, I introduced Poppy (who managed to restrain her excitement enough to sound normal) and explained what was going on as Annabel and Arabella rejoined us.
“Essentially, we recognized one of the tattoos as from Leviathan, and now we’re going there to find any leads we can on Dugan’s whereabouts. We’re, uh, on the train, since none of us can drive.” A slightly distorted-yet-boisterous laugh echoed through the crystal, making me redden further while her tone grew serious.
“As funny as that is, you do realize you’re walking into a trap, right? That’s a classic move—kidnap a caster, lure the stupid fighters in for gutting.” I frowned as comprehension dawned over Poppy’s face, Arabella poking her head out of Annabel’s backpack to nod wisely at me as well, while Annabel appeared as lost as I was.
“How else are we going to get Dugan back? If he’s on Leviathan, we can’t just not go there.” She rebutted my counter swiftly, giving the distinct impression that she was sitting at a desk with her elbows propped up, fingers interlaced in front of her face (which she always did when planning).
“I didn’t say not to go. Here’s what I would do: take the Bastion City-Gold Gardens jump, and get into contact with one of my old friends—you’ve met him before, I believe? Penchant for pasta. Oh, and for Sol’s sake, get yourself a sword, girl. Protts are good with blades, I’m sure your friend would love to teach you how to use one—but all pirates have a sword.” Somehow both scolded and assisted, I thanked her and promised to be careful before hanging up and browsing a list of weaponsmiths and weapon stores on my crystal as the others broke into discussion.
“Did you hear that? We get swords and go to Leviathan, we’re pirates—Delo the Red says so.” Annabel chimed in, warming up to the idea despite herself; Arabella was already nodding.
“We’ll need pirate-appropriate clothes, then. Should I get a sword, too?” Arabella poked her head out between Annabel and I, speaking quite possibly the loudest she ever had.
“We need pirate names.” Nodding sagely, Poppy took a piece of half-eaten toast off of my plate and ate half in a bite before speaking and blowing crumbs everywhere.
“I’m going by Captain Prott. Best nickname there is.” Annabel rolled her eyes, submitting Bell-Bones as a name that all three of us silently agreed was the best; Arabella chose Bella Black-Knife, which was also a strong contender, but when it was my turn I couldn’t quite decide on one. I’d always been told by my father to avoid the pirate ‘lifestyle’ for a more proper and refined approach, since that did better socially on land, but having spent time with Poppy and the others had caused me to reassess some of what he’d said—that still didn’t fix the naming problem, though.
“Want my suggestion? Siren. Since you’re a singing bard.” Suitably formal, but still pirate related—at my nod, her grin widened.
“We’ve got to start practicing sea shanties, then. Once we get to Bastion City, it’ll be smooth sailing, you dogs.” Poppy made no effort to imitate a pirate, coming across as just being rude, but I guessed what she was going for and responded in the best pirate impression I could muster.
“Aye-aye, Cap’n Prott! We’ll make ‘em walk the plank, yarhar.” Annabel snorted into laughter, snorting her drink and promptly falling out of her chair from coughs; while I leaned over to help her, Poppy stuck a finger in the glass and tasted it—this did nothing to break the tension, but when Annabel was upright I understood her move.
“Boozing for breakfast, Hollyfrost?” Rolling her eyes (and still scrunching up her face in distaste slightly) the paladin drained the glass and gestured at the door behind Poppy.
“The way the dining car is set up means that the chef can’t watch both ends of the kitchen at the same time. Arabella wanted me to try it.” I shared an exasperated look with Poppy, just as a muffled hiccup escaped Annabel’s backpack.
“How is it that the bard and the fighter are the most responsible members of the party? I thought we were the ones that got to have fun.” Shrugging casually, Poppy leaned back and sipped more tea with a look out of the window.
“How is it that our paladin likes gin?” My face soured at even the idea, and I shook my head dismissively at Annabel, who had gone to defend herself.
“One day, Poppy and I are going to be the ones to cut loose. And you’ll remember it—just, stay functional? Please?” Annabel saluted, opting for water as I snatched the last bit of my toast back from Poppy and ate it in a single bite.
“Touch my toast again and I’ll practice my cantrips on you for an entire day.” Being fairly impulsive outside of combat, Poppy leaned forward and slapped the side of my face as I moved to brush some crumbs away, grinning triumphantly as I went beet-red and reflex-cast mind sliver on Poppy; after flinching as if slapped, her eyes opened to reveal a burst blood vessel in one, both staring accusingly at me even as I leaned forward to heal it.
“Ow! What rioting crew you be, for the first mate to attack the captain?” I was returned the amount of psychic damage she’d received by the grating lack of effort into an accent, wincing myself mid-healing. It was, I felt, going to be a long day.
It took six hours, and we were banned from multiple weaponsmiths in Bastion City due to Poppy’s insistence on the perfect blade, but by the time we took a late lunch at a deli near the teleportation hub I had a sturdy cutlass belted to my side, not very curved but still very sharp, as I found out when I accidentally gave Annabel a free haircut. The deli was fast-paced, but had outdoor seating facing Harroway Bay, meaning we could watch the ships coming into and out of the harbor while we ate.
“Everyone ready? I noticed Arabella left for a bit, so hopefully we’ve got some supplies.” From inside a brand-new, magically-expanded backpack that I wore, Arabella peeked her head out and nodded.
“First aid kits, jerky, water. They put magical alarms on the alchemy shops that I didn’t have enough time to get past, or I would’ve gotten some potions, too.” Annabel rolled her eyes in response, while I took another bite of a cucumber sandwich, watching a bigger ship slowly make it’s way out of the bay.
“It’ll be enough. We can steal some from the pirates if we need to.” Poppy speared an olive with a toothpick and held it up for examination, then ate it and scowled.
“Feels wrong to be sitting here when they’re probably torturing Dugan for information.” Arabella’s muffled assent reached my ears, but I was suddenly distracted by a burst of purple light from one of the passing ships; a split-second later, a dimension door opened on the street in front of us, but Poppy was already moving. Diving over the table without so much as a ruffled napkin, she speared the exiting pirate and tackled the body through the portal as I lunged in after her, sandwich in hand. By the time I’d stepped through and drawn my cutlass, she’d killed six pirates on the ship and was standing between the portal, which was near the railing of the deck, and ten more pirates, all with their weapons drawn.
“Finally, we can ask some questions—Esti, would you be a dear?” With a flick of my hand, her hair was pulled back, and she stepped forward, Saint Sitre ablaze in white fire from the setting sun.
“If you all don’t tell me what in the hells is going on, I will cut this ship in half.” The assembled crew burst into laughter, but the deathly still pose that she kept told me that she wasn’t joking; one of them, wearing slightly nicer clothes, stepped forward with a flintlock pistol.
“Go ahead and try, girl.” Before I could mention the fact that I was on the ship with her, she vanished from sight and appeared mid-leap, a line of white light expanding from the sword and sending up a horrendous screeching, snapping cacophony as it cut down through the deck, mast, and body of the ship itself. The deck heaved, throwing me back against the railing, and she landed with a foot on either side of the split, stepping neatly to one side and lowering her sword.
“Pirates know how to swim, right? Should be no problem.” The crew scattered for the few lifeboats, not even bothering to attack us, and she glanced over at me with a fierce grin as the ship sank deeper into the water. At my terrified expression, however, concern quickly replaced exhilaration.
“I can’t sw--” With a sudden jolt, the two sides fell apart, throwing me off of the ship and into the bay itself; the backpack acted like a lead weight, dragging Arabella and I down into the water despite my best attempts to stay afloat. A shadow darted out from my bag as the rogue presumably escaped upwards, but I was unable to even slow my descent into the murky waves—desperate, I clawed at the water before reflexively gasping as a shard of the ship struck my shoulder, driving part of the mast into my body and filling my lungs with water; from either the water or the pain, I lost consciousness with the last thought of if this is how I died, my mother would be severely disappointed.
“C’mon, Siobhan. Don’t give up on me.” A sudden gasp brought me back from nothingness, first sensation a pair of lips locked onto mine as my eyes fluttered open to see Poppy performing mouth-to-mouth, Annabel in the process of removing the stake from my shoulder. I was soaking wet, laying on the beach near where the ship’s crows nest lazily drifted downwards below the waves; drawing back, relief filled Poppy’s face as she saw that I was awake.
“How does the daughter of a pirate not know how to swim? Esti, that’s a must-have for adventuring.” Face beet-red, I sat up and quickly jumped to my feet, lethargy nearly sending me back down to the ground before Poppy caught me in her arms and supported my non-working legs as they regained their strength. We were both soaking wet, but despite the recent dip in the cold water, she was almost feverishly hot to my shivering body.
“Why are you so hot?” Snorting, she lifted her overcoat open as I prestidigitated us dry and allowed me to warm myself up by ducking half-into her coat, shuddering before realizing what I’d said and blushing again.
“Shut up, Prott.” As I was hugging her under her coat, my elven senses picked up a hint of gunsmoke, alongside her normal smell of leather and sage—had she been shot? Surreptitiously feeling around, I discovered an exit wound in her back, and healed the damage from a flintlock pistol carefully—a small burst of light escaped the coat, and by the time the wound had fully healed I’d warmed up enough to step out of her embrace.
“Uh, thanks. Should we get going?” Thankfully, the teleportation hub was a fairly close walk, and after arranging for a trip to Leviathan, we waited in the first-class lounge for the next opportunity—a lot of people were going to Fallinel, seeing as there was some sort of festival on the island that a lot of elves were going back to their homeland to experience. While we sat, I pretended to read a magazine (Bards’ Best) but my focus was more inward, thinking about what had just happened with Poppy. It wasn’t like—I hadn’t meant that she was hot, just that she was hot temperature-wise, not… right? I hadn’t really ever thought about people in that way—I supposed high school was the time people started to—and I glanced surreptitiously at her from out of the corner of my eye. She was sharpening a knife for Arabella, pausing to examine the edge of the blade every so often before resuming grinding down the edge. Allowing myself a brief moment to explore the emotion that I was feeling, I noted how her hair, still in the bun I’d put it in, had a few strands that escaped and hung down, occasionally blown out of her vision with a quick puff of air. The side-profile of her face was sharp, a slight smile twitching the corner of her mouth as she tested the sharpness on a piece of paper, then handed the knife back to my backpack after I deftly looked back at my magazine in time.
“See something you like?” I very nearly cast offensive magic in the lounge as she spoke out of the corner of her mouth to me, watching Annabel fight a vending machine across the room.
“N-No. I was just making sure you didn’t cut a finger off by accident, Prott.” she snorted, relacing her boots with a glance in my direction.
“I’m insulted that you don’t have more faith in my skill with blades, Esti. Maybe after we save Dugan you’ll believe.” I rolled my eyes, abruptly standing as the Leviathan circle opened up and gestured to her; surprising me, she grabbed my slightly waving hand and stood, doing a small curtsy before letting go and going to get Annabel so we could leave before she broke something. Walking out directly onto the field, we were among the first to line up in front of an ancient-looking wizard in the stereotypical starry cloth robes, who nodded at our tickets and waved a few pirates into the circle alongside us before beginning to summon energy into his hands.
“Last call for Leviathan!” One or two latecomers hurried into the circle, before the wizard waved a wand at us and, in a burst of light, we appeared in the Gold Gardens, Leviathan’s version of a pleasure district in the massive amalgamation of ships and ship parts that made up the island. A massive complex of buildings hosting theaters, brothels, bars, and all other manner of pirate amenities surrounded us; lush gardens lined several of the paths, underwater plants sustained magically to grow in the air and adding an almost undersea feeling as the four of us took in our surroundings.
“We need to find my mother’s friend, then we can get a lay of the land. Anyone have—oh, never mind.” Poppy took the lead, bringing us to the main building in the center of the plaza-type layout that made up the Gold Gardens with the rationale that someone there would probably know where our target, an old pirate named Bimothy, was. We received a few odd looks, but adventurers must not be that out of the ordinary for a pirate city, and we weren’t bothered during the walk; a few important-looking people were standing around near the main doors, which I went up to talk to after some prodding from the others.
“How can we help ye, lass?” Smiling politely, I resisted the urge to do a bow—probably wouldn’t be received the same as in Solace—and shook the outstretched hand.
“Looking for a pirate, name is Chungledown Bim.” The pirate I’d spoken to shared a look with his one-eyed companion, snorted, and jerked his chin in the direction of the massive mast at the center of the city, which rose impossibly high into the air.
“Last I heard, in the Ramble. Ye be new to Leviathan, girl? Face is mighty familiar.” Blushing slightly, I nodded.
“My first time, but my mother is Delo the Red.” The pair exchanged surprised looks, one-eyed pirate leaning forward after a swig from a green bottle holding some sort of dark liquid.
“Delo the Red, eh? Are ye as fine with a blade as she?” Raising an eyebrow, I jerked a thumb over my shoulder at where the others stood waiting.
“No, but Captain Prott is better. She cut a ship in half in Harroway Bay a few hours ago.” The pair glanced at Poppy, who was doing an incredibly intimidating stance, hand lightly resting on the handle of her sword as though she didn’t care, but her eyes were lasered onto what we were discussing.
“Just let yer cap’n know that drawin’ a blade is forbidden in the Gardens, then. Good to see the blood of the sea elves flows through ya, lass.” I did a slightly stiff curtsy, then hurried back to the others to give them the info.
“Up in the ramble. Think they’ve got an elevator?” Annabel nodded, pointing to a boat with pulleys and cables attached at each end that served as makeshift elevators. Unsurprisingly, the calm and gilded demeanors didn’t last very far outside of the Gold Gardens, with Arabella having to stop pickpockets so frequently that she just clambered out of my backpack and stood perfectly in my shadow as we walked. The boats were indeed elevators, and after paying for a ride up, we joined a few aarakocra fishers for a breakneck trip directly up several hundred feet in what felt like half of a second; quickly, I reached out to stop Poppy as she didn’t hook her feet under the seat and almost shot up into the sky. Finding the Ramble wasn’t difficult once we started following the sound of old pirates muttering and smoking, finding a tall building with dozens of windows and balconies looking out over the city—thankfully, we didn’t actually have to go into the building, as Chungledown Bim was shooting dice in the alley beside it.
“Chungledown Bim?” When he looked up, I nearly did a double-take at what first appeared to be six moustaches arranged into a beard, but the spikiness of the gnome’s beard had merely first appeared as that. A slight gehhh escaped him as he contemplated us, eyes narrowing as he looked me over.
“Delo’s girl, aye?” My mother’s reputation preceded me, it seemed. At my nod, his narrow gaze swept back over my friends, then back to me.
“Yer mother was a fine captain, and a basterd with a blade. Take after ‘er?” And I was supposed to be some sort of savant with a sword. Scowling, I drew the cutlass and showed it’s pristine blade to him.
“Never used a blade before. Care to find out with me?” He grinned, showing off an impressive variety of replacement teeth, and drew his own blade as Poppy’s eyes widened in shock and worry.
“Test of talent, eh? Good to cross blades with a Tilofa again.” I darted forward, trying to find some sort of familiarity with the weapon even as I moved to swing it at him; the ground swayed as the massive crow’s nest swung in the air, and I felt myself step into the motion, whipping my sword around almost like a rapier and delivering a point-first strike that snapped the flat of his scarred and weathered sword with a sharp, shattering screeech. Instead of getting upset, Chungledown let out a guttural laugh, slapping his stomach before reaching up and shaking my hand, still grinning.
“Ye’ve got a pirate’s blood in ye. Drink?” The prospect of drinking alcohol with this man was horrifically terrifying, so I made a slightly regretful face and sheathed my sword.
“Unfortunately not—one of our party members was kidnapped, and we’re searching for him. Dugan Mistwind ring any bells?” He scratched his beard, looking out at the street for a long moment before responding.
“Caster?” When I nodded, Chungledown nodded back, and pointed over his shoulder at the edge of the crow’s nest.
“Down in the bilge, I reckon. Best spot to hold a hostage.” With that alarming statement, I gave him some gold for drinks and led the way back to the elevator as Poppy stared at me in awe.
“We have to spar together. How did you aim it like that?” Frowning, I shrugged and gestured to the planks that made up the ground.
“It swayed, and I must’ve struck at a lucky angle. I’m a bard, not a fighter.” Ignoring the disbelieving look, I paid for our fare down with a scowl—they were driving quite a hard bargain—and clambering in before putting both of my hands on Poppy’s shoulders.
“Hook your feet.”
“Esti?” I was squatted over a puddle of water, examining the fungal growth atop it when a lantern made me squint as I adjusted.
“Just looking at this. Does our tracker have any ideas?” Arabella had scouted around, then tapped into her skulduggery senses to try and divine the path the kidnappers would’ve taken; Annabel was beside me, being the source of the soft light I was looking at the fungus with.
“Further in, I think.” Arabella, perfectly at home in the shadowy, damp wooden streets and rickety side-alleys, spoke from above me in the cross-beams before scuttling off in the direction she meant; if anything, I was glad that the most terrifying thing in the Bilge was on my side.
“What I’m trying to figure out is why they want you so badly, Esti. Those guys in Bastion City were coming after you, and even kidnapped Dugan for extra juice. No offense, ‘cause you are special; I just don’t think they’ve got the same reasons.” My eyes widened, then half-glazed, and I promptly took off in the direction Arabella had gone—whatever Annabel said was already out of earshot by the time I walked down another side-street, following the occasional glance of Arabella’s eye until she came to a stop seemingly in the middle of a random street.
“What? Forget something?” The other two joined us as Arabella nimbly dropped down to ground level and pointed at a few half-rotted boards that made up part of the street.
“Trapdoor.” Poppy leaned down, nodded, and had me put her hair up before pulling the boards back, revealing a staircase down to a corridor with an almost luminous blue-green glow. In second, I realized that it was less of a corridor than a platform, dark blue and green waves from the ocean lapping against the thin wooden walkway, at times coming up between a gap before sloshing back down. Having recently half-drowned, I paused near the bottom of the stairs—Poppy caught this, and offered me a confident grin.
“Don’t worry. Until I teach you to swim, just know I’ll always go in after you if you fall in.” Thankfully, the shadows were enough to hide my blush, and I continued down to walk along the boards as Annabel rounded up the rear; Arabella was probably in the mishmash of beams above us. Rounding a corner, Poppy came to a stop in front of me, hand going to her blade. Peeking over her shoulder, I gasped and darted around her to heal Dugan, who was hanging upside-down from a rafter, hair touching the water—judging from how the tides worked, at times his head would’ve been fully submerged, meaning he’d have to drag himself up out of the water just to breathe. He was covered in bruises and scrapes, and though he was barely conscious, Dugan was able to jerk his hand around and bite onto a piece of straw as I came out from around a corner and was promptly bashed in the side of the head with a pommel. Stars flashed in my vision as Dugan cast a spell, vision swaying as I toppled to one side, landing with a splash into the ocean itself; not good. I sank quickly, belatedly realizing that having a backpack full of a lot of stuff with likely a shoddy weight-displacement enchantment pulled me down quicker, but the panic gasp didn’t pull water into my lungs. Or rather, it did, but I realized that Dugan had likely used his last spell slot to cast water breathing on me, meaning that while I couldn’t necessarily get myself up, I wasn’t going to drown. Above me, I saw Poppy dive in, fading slightly even as she swam down towards me—a ripple of current washed over us as a force stronger than any I’d felt gripped me around the ankles, a column of pure water sucking me down deep enough that the lights began to fade; belatedly, I realized that the spell lasted for a day, meaning that I had a day to be rescued, learn to swim, or drown. Whatever creature was pulling me under was likely massive, as well, and I managed to get a hand on my cutlass before the force stopped, leaving me floating in purplish-black emptiness. I floated, noticing that I wasn’t sinking anymore just as I screamed out bubbles at a glowing set of four eyes that stared at me out of the darkness; when the mouth appeared, too many teeth grinned in a jagged line that stretched almost ten feet wide, glittering in the void.
“Clean blade.” The implication was clear: whoever this was could tell I was inexperienced with a sword, so I leaned into what seemingly every pirate thought and drew, steel reflecting some of the bluish glow from the eyes.
“I’m the daughter of Delo the Red—known as the Siren. Test my talent, if you dare.” The face surveyed me for a long moment, smile never wavering, then chuckled gently and blinked each eye independently of the other.
“The Siren, yet you cannot swim? Not quite fitting, at least not yet. Tell your mother that I bid her greetings, daughter of Delo the Red.” I was rocketed back upwards, but was more focused on the agony that erupted across my body as bones cracked, grew, shrank, and reformed themselves alongside more breaking and shredding my skin as I grew, realizing that whatever deity that had been had just cursed me as the water grew lighter rapidly, slamming me up into the ceiling of the room, gasping in pain, just as Poppy killed what looked like the fifteenth pirate in the room; pain was almost the only thing I could focus on, slapping back down onto the water and wincing as a cold draft of water struck up from below, body feeling… wrong. Different, and judging by Annabel’s gasp, it wasn’t just a hallucination. Where I’d once had legs, a full scaly tail extended off into a fin, coupled with almost insectoid clawed wings that were half-translucent blue, like the color of the sea. My hands were also closer to claws, and I gasped as I felt gills in the sides of my ribcage—mid-Arabella cutting him down Dugan spoke to me from his position upside-down.
“You’re… a siren? Get to the platform, you should be able to shapeshift back into a humanoid.” Weakly, still not entirely understanding what had happened, I swam over surprisingly intuitively and dragged myself up onto the wood before searching within myself and casting an instinctive spell that much less painfully changed me back into normal-me, leaving me laying on the ground completely soaked and shivering. I didn’t register much else of the battle (or the escape), coming back to myself as Poppy carried me back out through the entrance to the bilge, unable to meet the gaze of anybody. While Dugan was being treated in the Gold Gardens, we went for dinner at one of the nicer restaurants in the campus—mentioning my family name was enough to get us a private box over a stage that was supposedly hosting a singer later on. Horrifyingly, the menu options that drew my interest were exclusively those with raw or bloody meat—I supposed sirens ate their victims raw—and after ordering a bloody one-pound steak, I turned to the other three.
“When I fell in, I… met a god. I think I was cursed to turn into an actual siren.” Poppy held an ambivalent face, comprehension dawning on Annabel’s while Arabella was under her chair, so I couldn’t tell her reaction.
“I think I know which one. Four eyes?” Speaking from the door, I was surprised to see a heavily-bandaged Dugan walk into the box with a bottle and a note.
“Are you sure you’re good to walk?” He shrugged, carefully moving and sitting into the fifth chair at the table.
“Umberlee. Goddess of the Undersea. I think she might not have appreciated your inability to swim.” Scowling, I downed a glass of water and smiled politely as the waiter returned with a warm, mostly-raw steak before salting it and digging in.
“Your biology is altered too, it seems. That makes this a little pointless, then.” Holding out the note, I read it after a few more bites. To my apprentice pirate. Love, Mom. It came alongside a bottle of rum, causing me to shoot Dugan a confused look.
“Sirens are barely affected by alcohol or most substances—good for luring prey. Er, you know what I mean.” I elected to return to my steak even as Annabel snatched the bottle from Dugan, Poppy leaning back in her chair as the rest of the food came out—Dugan wasn’t hungry.
“Another successful mission for the Gang of Five, then. Should we make a post for the page?” Deciding to eat faster so it wasn’t obvious that I was eating straight raw meat, I took a few more bites as Poppy held a hand out for my crystal to film.
“Wait, shouldn’t we celebrate? I mean, c’mon, we’re in a pirate city. Chungledown said you had pirate blood in you. We should let loose!” Arabella agreed with Annabel, while Poppy and I exchanged looks; Dugan appeared neither for nor against the idea. Standing, the paladin hoisted the rum into the air and grinned at me.
“Let’s see how many drinks it takes to get Siobhan drunk, eh?”
As it turns out, having gold in a pirate city makes finding drugs and alcohol very easy for high-schoolers, turning the box into a smoky haze as Annabel and Dugan split some kind of laced cigarette, Arabella lighting a cigar and opening a bottle of beer for herself before dealing cards to Poppy and Dugan, who wanted to play poker. Poppy was also smoking a cigar, while Annabel would refill a glass with rum for me whenever it was low; I opted out of smoking or cards, instead scrolling my crystal and debating what would make a good post to announce that we’d saved Dugan; the five of us smoking and playing cards was a pretty cool image, but it didn’t quite feel right. I was still fully sober after a bottle of rum, which I didn’t hate, and excused myself to go and watch the singer as the show began to start. Poppy, likely not wanting me to wander off (we still had no idea who had orchestrated the kidnapping), joined me to walk down, toting her cigar and a piece of buttered toast as we descended back to the main floor.
“Is it a good singer?” I shrugged, not knowing who was performing, and managed to get a spot by the back wall, near one of the bars.
“Dunno. Probably, though.” She nodded, glancing up at the stage with muted interest. Unfortunately, the show wasn’t meant for us, as a towering man stood from one of the nearby tables, a quiet coming over patrons within earshot as the bearded pirate spoke.
“You’re the one that’s been killing my crew; how convenient that you decided to walk right up to me, Siobhan Tilofa.” I put a hand on Poppy’s shoulder as hers moved to her blade, looking the man up and down before shaking my head.
“I wouldn’t try it. I’ve come to find recently that the flesh of pirates has a certain… sweetness to it.” The man’s eyes widened, and both him and Poppy froze as I took a step forward, putting myself between the pair.
“So whatever you needed me for—is it worth your life?” Formerly confident, the man was struck into silence by my words—and the flashing of what I’d noticed were slightly pointed teeth—he shook his head, doffed his hat, and sat back down. On our way back to the stairs (while I was slightly put out at missing the performance), the other three were standing at the entrance to intercept us with worried looks that Poppy waved off.
“She handled it. Scared the life out of me, too, but I think we shouldn’t spend much time here. Too many mysteries.” Dugan nodded, Annabel swaying slightly as she fell into step behind Poppy, who led the way towards the teleportation hub for Leviathan. All in all, each time we’d rescued a party member, we’d managed to do it within the day of their disappearance (which had to be worth something), even if I’d ended up cursed because of it. Despite the fact that I now preferred raw meat, had pointy-er teeth, and always seemed to have half-damp hair, the mission was a success. After a slightly rougher takeoff—Annabel promptly hurried to a trash can to vomit once we’d landed in Bastion City—we recouped with ice cream before taking the late train back to Elmville; checking my crystal, I was notified that my father had decided to purchase a magical self-driving car, since my non-unseen servant chauffeur was growing disgruntled at having to wait for me. As I perused the models available, Dugan and Annabel were arguing over some sort of book series that I’d never heard of, Poppy laughing at how heated the discussion was getting before a blip-bloop alerted me that someone had posted to the group account. Opening it, I realized that Arabella had, having stuck her phone out of my backpack and held out a thumbs-up to get into what was a picture of all of us, hanging out on the train back. It was captioned, ‘Party members saved: 2’, and I grinned over my shoulder as I liked the post and resumed carshopping.
“Annabel, we need you to start praying for normal days again. This was too much.”