Convincing Mom wasn’t nearly as difficult as I expected.
Most of the reason for her relenting seemed to stem from an unhappy refrain, that he was ‘family.’ I was starting to understand that I didn’t really know what that meant, in the context of our wider clan.
I hardly qualified as ‘family’ myself, to my understanding. Once I’d decided I wasn’t going to go into nursing, I was just barely relegated to that wider status, much like Drake or my father. No longer was I a potential ‘Joy.’
Sometimes, I wondered if my mother’s family would have pressured me more, if I’d been her biological daughter, but thorny thoughts lay down that path and I never ventured down it too deeply, even in the safety of my own mind, let alone broaching it to Mom. The very idea was petrifying in a way I struggled to find words for.
Still, ‘family’ apparently meant a lot. Enough to give Drake the leeway he was asking for to help with my training for a week.
Dad needed little convincing once Mom was onboard, and Drake’s status as a former champion and foreign dignitary was more than enough to sway him. My father was a big proponent of the wonders networking, and Drake represented a strong connection, even if it was one to a region that traditionally held very frosty relations with our home.
So it was that I found myself accompanying the old master the next morning. Apparently he wanted to get to our training as soon as he could after dealing with whatever his official duties were.
It wasn’t until I’d arrived at the meeting point the old sailor had sent me that I realized just what those official duties entailed.
“You’re the FSBC’s guest of honor?” I hissed the question at Drake, mindful of the swarms of video cameras being carted about, carried by humans and floating Magnemite alike.
“Sure, if that’s how you want to put it,” “That’s exactly right.”
The two answers came simultaneously, one from the mullish old man, currently seated in a chair and being fussed over by a svelte woman in a two-piece suit, the other from said woman.
She was a whirlwind of motion, applying makeup, straightening clothes, and generally preparing Drake’s appearance in anticipation of being seen on national broadcast television.
I wasn’t above admitting I was jealous. She was doing a hell of a job.
“And who are you?” I asked her, eying the woman up and down again. She had short-cropped brown hair, brown eyes, and a nice suit. I honestly had trouble commenting on her appearance beyond that. She might have been from Hoenn, like Drake, but I could easily see her being Kantonian as well, or Paldean. It was hard to pick out any one distinguishing thing about her appearance, again, beyond the nice suit.
It was a really nice suit.
“I’m Captain Genji’s diplomatic liaison from the Hoenn Pokémon League,” “She’s a spook.”
The two answers came simultaneously again, and Drake’s elicited a sharp glance from the former.
“You’re a spy?” I whispered, somewhere between excitement and alarm.
“I’m an agent of the state currently employed in a diplomatic capacity,” she carefully didn’t answer. “Agent Benin, at your service, Ms. Alvida.”
“Drake told you about me already?” I asked, a bit surprised.
“He said that he picked up a ‘funny little whelp’ that he’d be introducing me to,” she said, earning her a sharp glance of her own from Drake, even as I turned my narrowed eyes on him in turn. “His words, exactly,” the woman continued, her tone as smug as her expression was controlled.
I was beginning to have suspicions that Agent Benin’s unremarkableness was no accident. “I’m guessing you two have been a bit at odds during your trip so far?”
The looks they both gave me told me that I didn’t know the half of it, but also that neither had the will to explain.
“We’re boarding in fifteen, everyone!” a shout came from a nearby woman carrying a clipboard. Her voice set the various fisherman, broadcast teams, and competitors around us scrambling.
The warehouse we currently inhabited was swarming over with activity, as people prepped to launch the Kinnya Barge. I was standing less than an arena length away from Daikoku, the barge’s Hariyama mascot, and I couldn’t even enjoy it, because I was still wondering what the hell I was doing here.
“Okay, so your ‘small thing’ is being the guest of honor at the Magikarp Festival,” I confirmed with Drake again, “so why the hell did you ask me to be here?”
“Like I said, so we can get to training right after I finish,” the old sailor shrugged. “Shouldn’t take long, right? Just need to show up on the dock and see the boat off right? Wish it well or something? Bountiful catch, and all that?”
“Not if you’re the guest of honor,” I shook my head. “Usually, the guest of honor gives a small speech to launch the Kinnya, then they need to watch the Ranking matches chosen for this year’s festival, then they preside over the Karp Competition, and while that’s going on, they also have to stand watch over the barge. You’re not going to get back until the sun’s starting to set.”
Drake blinked at me Noctowishly a couple of times, and then spun to glare at Agent Benin, who was looking conspicuously in another direction. “Wisteria?” The name was a rumbled question, accusation, and indictment, all in one.
“Well if I told you it was going to involve sitting around all day, you wouldn’t have come,” she explained after a few moments, her voice tetchy. “But you’re here now! You heard the PA, we leave in fifteen minutes!”
“More than enough time to get out of here,” the old sailor snorted. “Forget this.” He made to stand, and Agent Benin quickly held up her hands in a placating gesture.
“Please, Drake. This one is actually important. Nothing like any of the nonsense from the last couple of days.”
“It’s a hokey TV appearance!” the old sailor shot back, voice growing heated. “The sort of ridiculous media circus you idiots know I hate. I only agreed because it was supposed to be brief!”
The climbing volume of Drake’s voice was starting to draw some attention to our little tableau, and I decided to throw Agent Benin a bone. “They’d have a pretty hard time replacing you by this point, Drake.”
“For a stupid TV performance? I’m sure there's a Dustox’s clutch of random celebrities they could have down here in five minutes.”
“For the TV appearance, sure, but you also need to guard the ship,” I tried to explain. “You know, in case of Gyarados?”
More confused blinking. “How many Magikarp are you planning to fish up?” he finally asked.
I blinked back a couple of times. “You know. All of them.”
-
“I still say it doesn’t make sense. You fish all of the karp out of the waters around the coasts of your major cities, every year?”
“That’s what I’m telling you,” I nodded my head.
“And more just show up, every year?” Drake
“Every year,” I nodded again.
“Well where the hell are they coming from?” The old sailor threw his hands up.
“No one’s sure,” I shrugged, making sure to exaggerate the motion as much as I could. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the studio staff assigned to our segment giving me a thumbs up, so I must have been doing a good job. “People have tried to figure it out, but no one’s gotten anywhere with the research. Still, every year, they just seem to show up sometime in mid-April, ready to create eggs.”
“I thought you Ferrum types were against eating Pokémon.”
That was off-script. I saw the same PA making cutting motions. This was actually the second time we were having this conversation. Or it had been, anyway, until Drake had thrown that curve-ball.
Apparently, someone had overheard me explaining the festival’s history to Drake, and decided that it would make a good TV segment. Somehow, in the short interval between that conversation, and the time to board the Kinnya, I’d been sold as Drake’s Ferrum protégé, who he was helping out of the goodness of his heart. More good TV.
I still wasn’t sure if Agent Benin had done it to try to appease the old sailor with my company, or if the wily master himself was responsible, intent on dragging me along as punishment for my earlier support for the League Agent.
If that had been his intention, he was only partially successful. A portion of me was absolutely ecstatic, right now. I used to watch the Magikarp festival every year with rapt attention, both for the battles, and for the celebration itself, and being here now, on the actual Kinnya Barge, on the first trip of the year, was an incredible privilege.
Another part of me was currently freaking out. I’d often imagined myself on TV, competing in Ferrum Battles on the big screen, but those imaginings did little to prepare me for the actual reality of a televised appearance.
Only the reassurance of the hat and medical mask the wardrobe team had found for me to protect my identity kept me from actually losing it.
“We usually are,” I forged ahead, in spite of the staff member’s frantic warnings, since we hadn’t actually gotten a cut yet, “but Magikarp are, uh, sort of an exception. They’re an important part of some of the traditional dishes we prepare for Golem’s Banquet, and if we don’t remove them from the waters around the cities, things can get… problematic.”
“Oh, how so?” Drake asked, gamely. For all his hatred of TV appearances, the man had a natural charisma that I imagined must have translated well onto the silver screen.
In comparison, my own speech sounded stilted, and awkward to my ears. “Well, you know, there are a lot of large synergy stones in the city, with all of its arenas and dojos, and Magikarp can have bad reactions to all of the ambient syn they generate.”
“Reactions like evolving?”
“Exactly,” I nodded, “and the more Magikarp there are, the more likely there will be a spontaneous evolution, or even an RSB, in the worst case.”
“RSB?” Drake asked, this time his confusion genuine.
“Ah, sorry. Randomized Synergy Burst. It’s rare, and not well understood, but it’s happened before. Sometimes, wild Pokémon will spontaneously manifest the forms they take during a synergy burst. When they do, most Pokémon will go on a rampage, let alone a Gyarados.”
“Ah, I can see why you try to keep their numbers down then,” the former champion nodded amicably.
“Right, and if we’re catching them, not eating them would be the real cruelty.”
“But if you’re trying to keep Gyarados from happening, and the synergy stones make evolution more likely, isn’t having an arena powered by one of those stones on this fishing vessel defeating the entire purpose of this expedition?” the old champion punctuated his question with a nod towards the gleaming, gold-painted Magikarp statue, sections of which were carved from glittering synergy stones, installed at the barge’s bow.
“Well if we’re fishing up all of the Magikarp along the coastline every year, a Gyarados or two would be almost inevitable eventually, right?” I repeated my earlier explanation, glad we were back on track.
“Sure, I suppose. That's why Magikarp fishing is so strictly regulated in Hoenn.”
“So instead of waiting for it to happen randomly, we bring the stones to them, along with the danger of the fisherman’s lines, and the threat of powerful Ferrum battlers.”
“So you can get them to evolve in a controlled manner,” the old sailor nodded like he was having a fresh realization, but I knew for a fact that I’d already told him this less than twenty minutes ago. He really was a surprisingly good actor.
“Right. It doesn’t happen every year. I think last time I saw the statistic, it was around a two in five chance of happening, but for as long as we’ve been sending the Kinnya to rile the Magikarp before the fishing season really starts, we’ve never had a spontaneous evolution for the rest of the year.”
“And if a Gyarados does evolve?” Drake asked, bringing us to the end of our agreed-upon segment.
“Then it’s your job as the guest of honor to knock it out, and capture it, while the arena’s barricades protect the Kinnya,” I finished my explanation. I held still for a few moments, waiting for the signal, and after five seconds that felt like sixty, the staff member nodded.
“And we’re on commercial!” They shouted, causing everyone except Drake and I to burst into motion once again, obviously preparing for the next segment.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
I felt my shoulders slump, and let Agent Benin escort me off the makeshift set built on the stern of the Kinnya. “You did great,” she reassured me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d somehow made a fool of myself.
I didn’t really have much time to wallow, however, before six little balls ran up to me, hopping around in excitement. I couldn’t keep a grin off of my face as I watched my knights celebrate. At least they were happy with my performance.
“Oh sure, you believe them,” I heard the Hoennese spy mutter, and I couldn’t help but snort.
“Because I know they mean it. You’re like– a secret agent or something. You could be saying one thing and mean ten different others. Plus, I’m sixty percent sure it's your fault I’m even here in the first place.”
“That was all Drake, I swear. He likes having you around for some reason. Don’t tell him I told you this, but I think he has a soft spot for kids. Honestly, I’m pretty sure they all do, up at that level. Can’t put up with training new team members if you can’t stand young ones, and when you’re that age, you’ve had to train plenty of new Pokémon.”
I guess that made sense. I still wasn’t completely certain that she wasn’t lying to me, hard to trust a secret agent and all, but also I wasn’t going to get anything by not taking her at her word. “So have you known Drake for a long time?”
The woman laughed. “I guess you could say that. We’ve only worked together for maybe five years but he’s been a public figure for much longer. I guess even after I met him, it was sort of like I’d already known him from before.”
I hadn’t thought much about it. I guess Drake would be like, famous, famous. Household name, famous. Suddenly, I felt like I was very much lacking context for who this man was, especially considering he was to be my mentor for the next week or so.
“So has he always been like this?” I pointed vaguely in the direction of the crotchety former champion busy being fussed over by TV staff and clearly barely putting up with it.
“You mean irreverent, irritable, and generally a pain in the ass?” Agent Benin asked with a smirk.
“Uh, sure, if you want to put it that way.”
The Hoenn league agent snorted. “Notoriously. He cleans up well for the camera, but anyone who’s actually met the man in person for more than five minutes walks away with the same impression. If you’re at all involved in league business, it’s pretty easy to get a sense of who he is before you even meet him.”
There was derision in the women’s tone, and frustration, but something else too. A sense of nostalgia, maybe. “He would’ve been your boss right? less than a month ago?”
Sort of,” my question got a shrug. “In the same sort of way the Ranger general is your boss.” The woman told me with a knowing grin.
Right. Secret Agent. For all her amicable demeanor, Agent Benin probably knew more about me than most of my coworkers, if Unovan spy flicks were to be believed. “So how’d you end up watching over him? Or, being his handler, I guess.”
“I was the best person for the job,” the Hoenn League Agent told me. “I’m the highest rated trainer with diplomatic credentials available, with a flier fast enough to keep up with his Salamence.”
I blinked a few times. “But why would you being a strong trainer matter? It’s not like Drake can’t take care of himself.”
The woman blinked back, apparently bemused, before barking a harsh laugh. “Sorry, we’re operating under different assumptions. So much for diplomat training,” she snorted. “I’m not here to watch out for Captain Genji, Ms. Avlida, I’m here to keep a watch on him.”
It took me a second to draw the conclusion. “In case he goes rogue?” I suddenly remembered the man mentioning the possibility himself, yesterday.
“Exactly,” Agent Benin replied with bared teeth. “If he pulls a runner, I’ve got the best chance of stopping him.”
I looked over the svelte woman, forced to reevaluate her. “He’s a former Champion, right?” I asked, “shouldn’t there only be one trainer in Hoenn, stronger than Drake?”
The woman shrugged. “Maybe, but I’ve fought him before, and it was close. And that was before several of his team members retired. Now, with only four experienced Pokémon? I’d bet my team and I have more than a fair chance.”
“Is it really the end of the world though, if Drake sails off into the sunset, and does his own thing?” It seemed a tad excessive to place a government agent near the former champion just to watch him. “I mean, it’s not like he’s under arrest or anything, right?”
“Not as such,” the agent hedged, “but sometimes, former champions don’t take the transition of power well. Especially prideful ones that held the position for a long time. They might do something reckless, or stupid, or dangerous.”
I didn’t really need her to explain more. I could extrapolate from there. “Ok, so you’re around to keep Drake from doing something stupid, and you in particular because you’re strong enough that you might be able to pull it off. I get that, but why tell me all of this? Not that I would rather be in the dark, but shouldn’t this be like, secret agent stuff.”
Agent Benin laughed, “You’re taking this ‘spy’ thing too seriously, Ms. Alvida. I’m hardly the sort of international woman of mystery I’m sure you’re imagining.”
I frowned at the woman as she laughed, and when she noticed my expression, her chuckles petered out. She cleared her throat, and marshalled her expression into something conspiratorial, “Honestly, I’m telling you this because I think you’ve already picked a side, and I think our interests might align.”
Realization dawned, “You want Drake to join this Elite Four thing, don’t you.”
“Mostly just to stay with Hoenn in general, but joining the Elite Four covers that pretty effectively. And from what Drake tells me, you’re of the same opinion.”
“It just–” I paused, searching for the words. “It just seems like it would be a waste for him to do something else, if he has the option to get back in the game,” I finally explained. “Like… squandered potential, or something.”
The Hoenn League Agent stared at me for a few moments. Just as I was starting to get uncomfortable, she smiled. “Right. I totally get what you mean. How about we do some strategizing?”
Part of me couldn’t help but wonder just how far Agent Benin’s understanding went. If she grasped how much of my issues I saw in Drake’s. How good was a spy at hearing words unsaid? I was afraid I already knew the answer.
-
The next few hours passed more sedately, as the Kinnya got out into the open waters around the Magikarp spawning grounds. I didn’t get to speak with Drake very much, he was busy, alternating between responding to talking heads and complaining to Agent Benin, which left me to my own devices. The Kinnya was rather large for a fishing vessel, maybe forty-five meters from bow to stern, but it had to be, to accommodate the battlefield set up in the center of the barge. Humming generators provided the power for the barriers surrounding said battlefield, and also for the ship’s propulsion. I knew that in an emergency, such as a Gyarados attack, those generators could be overcharged, and the barriers projected around the vessel, to protect it from exterior assault.
The upper deck of the ship was swarming over with fisherman preparing their lines and competitors trying not to psych themselves out.
Part of me wanted to try to integrate with the Ferrum Battlers, chat with them and involve myself in some way, but it was a distinct echo of what the desire might once have been. Besides, being on the top deck brought with it the risk of one of my knights going overboard.
Since that would be beyond catastrophic, I instead brought my partners belowdecks, where we roamed the Kinnya’s steel halls, killing time until the battles began.
Unfortunately, the seven of us made for a tight squeeze in some of the ship’s corridors, so in an effort to get out from underfoot, we ended up on the main deck, staring out the windows at the passing water.
I’d never really gone sailing before, and I’d been a bit worried about seasickness, but the Kinnya was a smooth ride, for the most part. Occasionally, the rocking would get a bit worse, but most of us could compensate. The outlier was poor Kay, who had a hard time finding his bearings. I ended up sitting with him in my lap, rubbing his carapace in an effort to help keep him from feeling too nauseous. I wasn’t sure if a Falinks could throw up, and I wasn’t super keen on finding out.
Eventually, I got a message from Drake, telling me to ‘get my ass up here,’ so I returned to the Kinnya’s upper deck, after I got a solemn promise from my knights that they’d be very careful with the sides of the barge.
I found the cranky old captain in the observation booth, sullenly staring out at the battlefield as the first set of competitors prepped to take the stage. He beckoned me over, and none of the staff or camera people directed otherwise, so I approached, and took a seat behind him. “Having fun?” I asked, wryly.
“So much,” Drake growled, “at least we’re getting to a part that’s a little less boring.”
“The battles, right? Do they have you doing commentary?” Usually the guest of honor, who was invariably a strong Battle Trainer, would have their comments and analysis interspersed with the live footage from the battles.
“They asked,” Drake snorted, “but It was to be polite. None of these folks actually want to hear my opinion.”
That seemed a bit odd to me. “Really? You had a really good career as a Battle Trainer. I looked up your stats last night, you were thirty-eight and four, over your career, which only lasted six months. That’s… sort of absurd.”
The old man shrugged. “I’m pretty sure most of the people on this boat don’t even know I ever competed in Ferrum Battles. Frankly, you might be the only one,” he snorted. “They’re TV folks, Fe, not battlers. They’re more interested in politics and ratings than in the sport itself.”
I thought over the former champion’s words, and as much as I wanted to refute them, they made a certain amount of sense.
“Plus,” he continued, “even I know it’d make for terrible television. After all, it sucks for the spectators if I just tell them who’s going to win moments after the battle starts.”
“You’ve got a lot of confidence in your ability to call a battle,” I said, injecting as much doubt into my tone as I could.
“That’s because I’d never get it wrong,” the old man replied, without a hint of diffidence. “Look, I’ll show you.” He pointed out at the battlefield, where the first two competitors were just getting started. I recognized Cole Merrick and his Chandelure, but I didn’t know his opponent, a young woman partnered with a Swanna.
The two nodded that they were ready, and a referee called the start of the match, leading to a swift exchange, the Chandelure unleashing a bracing wave of fire as the Swanna took to the skies, summoning a torrential downpour to smother the Luring Pokémon’s assault.
“Yep, the Chandelure has this in the bag,” he said, after that first, brief exchange.
“How can you be so sure?” I asked him with narrowed eyes. “They went completely even there.”
“Sure, but the kid with the Ghost-type has a plan. See how each attack forces the Swanna higher and higher? He’s trying to get them against the barrier, and the young lady isn’t baiting it, she’s just reacting, trying to luck her way into an opening. That might work at some levels, but not here.”
And sure enough, with each successive wave of flames, the young woman’s Swanna climbed higher and higher, until it was soaring just below the bonds of the arena’s barrier.
“And now he has her right where he wants her. Watch.” Cole’s Chandelure began glowing purple, and for a brief moment, the Swanna was enveloped in a Psychic hold, pinning them in place. They tried to break free, but just as they shrugged it off, a Shadow Ball crashed into them, sending them spiraling into the upper barricade. The Chandelure continued to juggle the Swanna, hitting them with an Incinerate, and then a Hex, each blow pinning the Swanna against the barrier again.
The young woman and her partner were eventually able to escape the onslaught, but the damage was done. Exhausted by the hits taken, the pair eventually succumbed to additional attacks from Cole and his partner.
“Okay, you called that one,” I admitted. “But even I could see how that battle was going to go, after a bit.” Maybe not after the first exchange, like Drake, but the difference in skill level had been pretty obvious.
The old man snorted. “Alright then. I’ll show you again.”
-
As it turns out, Drake was in fact, able to predict the results of every single battle, most of them a scant few seconds into the match. An enterprising staff member caught onto our conversation at some point, and a camera had been rolled over to film us, maybe catching b-roll. Part of me wondered if maybe Drake’s comments were actually getting used, but he wasn’t wrong about it being bad television. If the staff member had expected the former champion to be humbled in his prediction game, he was sorely disappointed.
Every fight, every exchange, nothing escaped the dragon master’s gaze. His insights were actually pretty incredible, but also specific to the Ferrum battles taking place in front of us. It was with mixed feelings that I realized that I didn’t care much to hear what he had to say about the fights. A few months ago, I would’ve been hanging on every word. Now, it felt like something that had nothing to do with me.
It felt nice, to think that I was maybe moving on, but there was also an ache, that told me that I wasn’t totally ready to let go
In some ways, the way Drake captured each performance with such exacting detail actually made me a bit nervous. What were those hard eyes seeing when they were turned on me?
The FSBC staff did get a few moments of the former champion congratulating the ultimate winner of the small tournament, his dour expression transformed into a jolly grin for the camera, but we moved through it pretty quick to the Karp competition. The old captain’s already waning enthusiasm was dampened into complete and abiding boredom, as a parade of orange-scaled fish Pokémon were shown to him, one after another.
Gyarados was sort of an honorary Dragon-type, so I was wondering if Drake would show any interest in the line’s pre-evolutionary form, but he could barely keep his eyes open to comment on the various catches.
The camera people and Magnemites sought more interesting topics, and a look at my watch told me that we were only a couple of hours away from making our return to the shore.
I looked back up, to find the old dragon master had vacated the hot seat entirely, settling down next to me on a bench, set into the deck. “Almost out of here,” he said wistfully.
“It hasn’t been that bad, right? At least we haven’t had to worry about a Gyarados so far.”
That earned a rueful chuckle. “I suppose. I almost wish there had been one. Would’ve broken up the monotony a bit.”
“Sure, a city-threatening disaster is a great way to pass the time,” I replied dryly.
The former champion laughed. “I did say almost. I mean, hell, if I’d really wanted a Gyarados, I could have gotten one of those Karps to evolve.”
I looked up at him in surprise. “Wait, what? Some of them were ready to evolve?”
Drake shrugged. “Just one of ‘em. Probably wouldn’t get there for a few days yet, on its own, but if I’d given it a little push…”
“Is that something you can do?” I asked him, eyes wide. “I’ve never heard of someone forcing a wild Pokémon to evolve before.”
“Forcing’s the wrong word,” Drake shrugged. “More like encouraging. Doesn’t always work, but a bit of aura flared in the right time and place can do wonders. If a Pokémon’s right on the cusp, sometimes they just need a little push.
“Huh, that’s… something,” I looked over towards where the catch was being processed, a descending staircase leading into the bowels of the ship, where the Magikarp were getting prepared for shipment back to shore.
Drake followed my gaze. “Something eating at ya, Fe?”
“Just feels a bit… sad, I guess,” I tried to explain the sudden melancholy that had gripped me. “That Magikarp was so close. It almost reached that point that so few get to. Just a few more days, and it would have had it. And now…” I shook my head, “now they’ll never get there. Fallen, just short of the goal line.”
“It’s just one Magikarp,” the old sailor reasoned. “I’d bet you don’t worry about this sort of thing when someone passes the Magikarp filet at your fancy holiday dinner.”
“Hey, I’ve never eaten Magikarp, or any other Pokémon for that matter. Just because it's a cultural tradition, doesn’t mean we need to observe,” I sighed, “and I get that it’s just one Karp, but they were almost something more. It just feels like… a waste, I guess.”
The former champ looked to the staircase, then back to me, and then to the staircase again. He narrowed his eyes in concentration for a moment, and then shrugged. “Well if you feel so strongly about it. Wait here a second.”
It took me a few moments to realize what was happening, and by the time I startled out of my stupor, the former champion had already disappeared down the stairwell. I made to follow him, to tell him to stop, but a sailor blocked my way.
“Whoa, you don’t want to go down there little lady,” he said with a serious look, “it’s not the prettiest place.”
I could imagine. The cloying, iron scent of blood wafted up from the stairwell, choking my nostrils, but I tried to push forwards anyway. “Yeah I don’t, but I need to. I think Drake’s gonna do something stupid.”
The sailor’s brows furrowed. “The guest of honor? He seemed like a stand-up guy. What could he possibly be doing down in the hold?”
Before I could answer, a brilliant, shining light emerged from the stairwell, practically blinding the sailor and I with its radiance. It was followed by a gut-wrenching roar, a howl that made the primal parts of my brain want to curl up and wait for the end. “Like I said,” grimly, “something stupid.”
