Thomas’ heady elation faded like settling dust. As if he was slowly waking from a dream, the reality of the moment in which he awoke came back in a gradual crescendo of his senses. The [i]Dusk Skate[/i] had survived by the grace of a force he did not recognize or comprehend. On the seas a storm roiled with preternatural fury, and Thomas could see in his mind’s eye the corpses of Siren and sailor alike tumbling over the scarred railings of the ship as it rode the waves of its ire. 

[i]How many men?[/i] Thomas thought. [i]How many joined Lightfoot in the depths, heralded by the baleful song of the Sirens?[/i]

Bile soured his mouth as he thought of his men, shredded and riddled with venomous bites, their eyes fading to the sight of the tempest that would drag them below the waves. Thomas brought his hands to his soaked hair, and clutched at his scalp. The answer to his own question was always the same: too many. Neptune was avaricious, and he would take more souls than the cosmos required. 

The sharp voice of the First Mate brought Thomas’ mind from his dire thoughts, and caused him to raise his head. He watched the exchange between Antonia and Nicolette as an apposite crash of thunder from beyond the cabin bracketing the venom in the First Mate’s voice. Though he had not heard what Antonia had said to the Frenchwoman, judging by the rogue’s demeanor Thomas doubted she had intended to cross Nicolette so.

When the First Mate bowed, and made her gracious offer to further examine him, Thomas’ attention was drawn to the dark stain that spread over the woman’s shoulder like a gruesome epaulet. Sitting up farther upon his cot, his own face mirrored the First Mate’s concern.

“I would appreciate such ministrations, Nicolette. But please, you require more than I now, thanks to your efforts. You need to be seen to.”

Thomas couldn’t say exactly what had healed the Siren bite, but he had a strong inkling that it had somehow been Lightfoot’s handiwork. Even still, it had been the First Mate’s efforts that had ultimately pulled him from the ethereal, and back to the realm of the living. He owed her everything, and he vowed that he would repay her in kind.

As Nicolette left to take her place beside Jax, Thomas ran his hand once more over the strangely healed wound in his side. He couldn’t help but smile thinly at the new lease on his life, and scooting off the edge of the cot, Thomas permitted himself a light kiss upon Antonia’s cheek. 

“Give me just one moment, my love.” His eyes darkened as he whispered to his rogue. “I will need your help soon enough.”

With yet another peck of Antonia’s cheek, Thomas stood and made his way to the large sea chest beside the cot. His steps were at first wobbly and unsure, but he managed to keep his feet. Opening the heavy lid, he began to pull out several articles of clothing, as well as a large amber bottle sealed with red wax. Thomas passed one the sets of clothing to the soaked helmsman.

“Take these, and this as well.” Thomas said, handing the bottle to Jax along with the clothes. 

Next he knelt before the huddled form of his First Mate. He gave her a smile he hoped was filled with all the gratitude and affection he felt for the steely woman. Reaching out, Thomas ran the back of his fingers gently over the dark stain of the Siren’s bite at Nicolette’s shoulder.

“First, use it for this,” Thomas said to both Nicolette and Jax, speaking of the contents of the bottle. “Then, use it to ease your minds and warm your bellies.”

He made to stand, but not before gently pushing a wet snake of hair from the First Mate’s face, and offering her one last worried smile. 

“Take good care of her, Jax.” Thomas clasped the helmsman at the shoulder, and gave the man a confident nod. “Both of you deserve my gratitude today. Thank you my friend.”

Stepping away from both Jax and Nicolette, Thomas retrieved the other set of dry clothes he had withdrawn from the chest. Leaning down to Antonia now, he whispered once again into her ear.

“I’m sorry to do this, but I need your help. We’ve grim work that needs to be done.” Thomas’ copper eyes flitted to the doorway, and the forlorn expression that now molded his features would convey all that the rogue would need to understand. 

With that, the Captain stood erect, and nodded a farewell to the First Mate and the helmsman. His heavy boots thudded with an echoing resolve as he made his way through the threshold of his cabin, the grip upon his dagger conspicuous and grim against the continuing thunder of the storm above.