An icy coldness gripped Pieter, “I promise you that none of us will be taken by the slavers, and I promise that the ones we hunt will perish.” The smell of harsh brine filled the air as he spoke, overwhelming the scent of cooking food. The Salt had chosen to take note of his promise, and Pieter shuddered at the thought of what would come, regardless of what happened. 

The smell faded from the room, and Pieter straightened roughly, smiling weakly at the boy before turning away. He packed his pipe with small, cautious movements and only faced Rohaan after it was lit, the smoke making the priest’s eyes water, “Well, the fish is ready. I’ll bring it up, stay with the potatoes for a minute more, if you’d like you can have a nip of the rum just don’t tell the Cap’n.” Lifting the platter with the fish, he left the galley with the pipe clenched between his teeth working up and down as the muscles in his neck jumped. 

——-

Hana nodded excitedly, a half dozen ideas tumbling in front of themselves as she talked with him, each one starting to spill from her mouth before he asked his next question, overturning the whole cart and replacing them with new lines of thought. The one constant was a desperate, needy feeling of keeping [i]him[/i] next to her, and a giddiness as they kept talking. 

When he pointed at her staff, a fresh jumble of emotions welled through her; pride for her craft, shame for leaving the Academy, and of course, the reassurance that any mage feels when looking at their tools. 

She looked at the rune Uban touched, three sets of downward sweeping lines through a central vertical line and a horizontal line across the top. She traced her own hand along it, her fingernail lightly scratching the dark wood. A small smile quirked her lips and she said, “It’s the rune for goats. It helps me connect with goats in particular and farm animals in general, but I can also call on it for help with digestion, and ah well,” she withdrew her hand and put it back in her lap, “Goats are known for their fertility.” 

——-

Wheel and Millie stood up, looking each other in the eye. Wheel spoke softly, but his words carried across the deck, “If what you say is true, then we have unfinished business in Vyrm, don’t we?” Millie tapped her foot on the deck, her heavy spear held casually, “My business is here, and so it’ll stay until I pay off my debts.” 

Both turned and faced the stairwell before Pieter’s head came up, carrying the platter of fish. “Supper’s ready!” He called almost cheerfully.