Bonnie Carmel's boots creaked across the deck before Kinsley even heard her breathing. She rarely slept. He'd stopped asking why.
She took a pull of wine, then dangled the bottle just out of his reach.
"No. Liars don't get alcohol."
"When have I ever lied to you?"
"You lie constantly."
"Not to you," he noted with spiked enthusiasm. Her chuckle was small, sharp. Kinsley didn´t know what he was looking for. Not exactly. He imagined an underwater kingdom where sharks were the navigators and people were the followers.
He saw plenty of strange things at Kaen's side over the years, but Isla Rhea was a beast that Kaen had not technically created. When the creator of a realm did not have control over its child, could he even call himself that?
Sometimes, Kinsley thought Bonnie joined him simply because they'd both lost too much, and loneliness recognized loneliness. It was the last remaining proof that there was a living being behind the mask of stoic suffering perpetuated by the self-imposed search mission.
"Three months in the outer seas," she said, eyes narrowing, "your beloved could have left a hint. Or a map. Or something."
Kinsley shrugged into the dark. His coat, bright navy blue, signified mourning. After two years, when he finally unglued his head from the sticky surface of the cantina floor, his period of dignified mourning began.
Kinsley couldn't really tell his first mate that they embarked on a quest to revive someone who had humiliated him and then promptly broke up with him before he went and died in a hole.
'A quest to save lost love' sounded infinitely better than 'A quest to bring back a douche who not that many people liked but I did. Very much.' Her pendant caught his eye—a trident of silver, clutched now by instinct. "You still pray to him?" he asked, half-proud, half-surprised and so grateful.
"Wasn't Kaen your friend?" she nudged his elbow.
That he had been. "You liked him, too."
"That I did," she said, taking a hearty sip of the wine. The ship shuddered. A blow struck the hull hard enough to rattle the quarterdeck. Bonnie gripped the rudder beside him, steadying.
"What the hell was that?" she snapped.
"A sun-whale?" he lied. Bonnie spat at him. Sun-whales did not emerge during the night, moonlight was poisonous to them. Another strike. The timbers moaned. Above, the crew spilled onto the deck in chaos. Bonnie's voice cracked into command. She drove the women to order while Kinsley held the rudder.
The sea rose, then fell. Wind howled without a cloud to stir it.
Bonnie scrambled up the shrouds, scanning both sides, knuckles white on the ropes. The night was too still. Kinsley already knew what stalked them. He'd known from the first blow.
The cry cut through the waves. His crew froze, terror-stricken. Bonnie dropped back to the deck, eyes blazing.
"Those little…" she whispered.
A strong punch of at least three tails in a coordinated attack resumed the chaos and the fear that
the flock would sink them.
"Strike the sails."
"What?" Bonnie grabbed the collar of his coat as best as the awkward angle allowed her.
"We need to show respect, strike the sales, Bonnie."
Bonnie followed through when the crew gathered together, awaiting hell.
If two people could operate the Lioness, Kinsley would have never endangered the lives of twelve innocents. Alas. This was bigger than twelve human lives.
The attacks ceased. As did the angry sea.
The ship was surrounded by a bright blue light shining from underneath. Bonnie stepped closer, looking around, leaning over.
All they heard was a symphony of voices speaking collectively as if from one consciousness.
"Captain, change your course," they sang. "By the order the Queen."
"She's not my queen," Kinsley said.
"Turn your ship around. Return home."
"I don't have a home," Kinsley said to himself. But they heard it. They might not be the sharing type, but their ability to see inside a man´s heart made them as empathetic as a monster could get.
"What if I refuse?" he tried.
There was silence as the ship came to a halt. With the wind leaving the sails and the sea denying cooperation, Kinsley witnessed not only his good sense but every proof of natural laws abandoning them in the middle of the Eleventh Sea.
Kinsley could tell that Bonnie considered making a run for it. Despite the reputation of a hero, he had a knack for running too, just not the kind that would make one a coward in the eyes of a good society. The kind that used to break Neptune's heart.
Unlawful Goddess, whispered his subconscious.
The prickly little thing would not let him live, would not let him sleep, no matter how many times Bonnie had told him that Kaen's death was not his fault.
Kaen had a distractible nature, she would say. And Salacia always aimed for his place on the throne. And Kinsley tried to forget. Except that the two ports of the Continent were stacked with fishing ships that could not sail because Salacia hated humans and tried to starve them.
"If we don't bring him back, Salacia will bring her underwater kingdom to the surface and have her army engulf the Continent. Superior beings do not care about human lives."
Bonnie shook her head in disbelief. "But you do?"
"I care about one life."
"I'm guessing you don't mean mine, otherwise you wouldn't have thrown me into a lion's den."
"This is a lion's ship."
They banged and banged, but every hole they left in the ship with their massive tails sealed itself immediately upon impact.
"See, Kaen did one thing right," Kinsley tried.
"We will be back, Kinsley," they hissed from underwater and disappeared into the depths.
Bonnie exhaled. "We don't even know where's buried, Kin. You need a body to bring a soul into it, no?"
Kinsley smiled devilishly. Because it wasn´t a no, and a yes would mean nothing without a maybe in the middle. "Gorgo knows where he's buried."
And everyone on Kaen knew where to find Gorgo.