I tuned them out, thinking about what was to come and hoping I knew what I was doing.
I must’ve stood there for at least an hour, watching the clouds as they moved through the sky, Leoni and Driscoll finally falling into silence.
A bell rang out, and Kara’s prediction was true. Everyone left their posts and raced to the galley down below, located right next to where we slept. When the three of us finally made it down the stairs, we had to pick our way through the crew members sitting in the narrow hallway, scooping their dinner from their bowls. We entered the galley, a long rectangular table overflowing with more crew members, sans Bastian.
One of the pirates, Ollie, I thought his name was, waved his hands in the air. “And then I jumped from the ledge of our ship to the enemy ship and jabbed my sword, fighting off three men at once.” His red frizzy hair poofed out of his black bandana. Another crew member sat next to him, a man with a scarred face, scribbling down everything Ollie was saying.
“You mean you fell into them like a toppling tree,” Kara said as she took a deep gulp from her cup. “Almost ran yourself through with your own sword. I had to jump in and save your arse.”
Ollie tore off a small piece of bread and threw it at her. “It’s a fine arse. Wanna see it?” He stood and made to pull his pants down when someone else grabbed him and shoved him back into his seat.
“Trust me when I say no one wants to see that hairy arse,” someone yelled from the hallway.
The table roared with laughter as Ollie made a face and threw another piece of bread.
“Hey!” said a man with a tall white hat on his head. “You throw any more of that food I labored over, and I’ll throw you overboard.”
Ollie waved his hand dismissively, and the man, who I assumed was the cook, turned back to the stove where he stood.
“Where is the captain?” I asked, then immediately regretted the question as the laughter and chatter died down, everyone turning their stony gazes toward us.
“Eating in his quarters,” one of the crewmen finally said, barely looking up from the bowl of mush that sat in front of him.
Driscoll strode over to the table and grimaced. “What is this fine delicacy, if I may ask?”
Leoni sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose.
“It’s a new recipe I’m trying.” The man wearing the white hat stood over a small fire hearth, which crackled with an uncomfortable heat. He looked over his shoulder as he pulled out a loaf of bread from the hearth while stirring a large pot that sat on its iron top. He threw the bread on the table, and everyone immediately began tearing into it.
A bald man looked up. “Cook here would own the finest restaurant on our continent if he wasn’t trapped on this ship with us.”
I didn’t understand why Cook couldn’t just leave, but maybe Bastian had somehow enslaved everyone here. They didn’t seem like slaves, but at this point, nothing would surprise me.
“It . . . smells delightful.” Driscoll’s smile was strained.
Kara stood and held out her bowl, and the cook ladled more of the slop into it. She sidled back to the table, not even glancing at us as she spooned it into her mouth.
“Well, I guess we should eat,” I said, feeling the weight of the tension in the room. “We need to keep up our strength.”
“For what?” someone grumbled. “Being nothing but dead weight?”
Everyone else snickered. Leoni, Driscoll, and I shot each other questioning glances. It wasn’t as if I thought we’d be best friends, but I didn’t think we’d be so ill-received by Bastian’s crew.
We inched by the wooden table and benches, then each grabbed a bowl.
“Oh.” The cook lifted his hat and scratched his head, looking into the bubbling pot. “We’re fresh out, I’m afraid.”
My mouth dropped open, and I shot a glance at Kara, who cocked her pierced brow and gave me a look that said “told you so.”
“But—” I pointed toward the mush and Driscoll elbowed me.
“Let’s not argue with the pirates.” He punched his fist across his stomach. “Thank you for your time. Since we’re fresh out of... mush, I’m going to call it a night. Need my beauty sleep.”
No one acknowledged him; they didn’t acknowledge any of us. This journey was going to be worse than I thought.
“Breakfast’ll be served when the sun rises tomorrow,” the cook said. “Better come early if you want some.”
“Good to know,” Leoni grumbled.
