From a Forest of Bone and Blood | Chapter Nine

[ar_richardson]

The next morning dawned with a cover of clouds that were deceptively bright. Overhead, the sky was nearly yellow, almost as if as if the sunlight had gotten trapped between the clouds and the earth. Looking at the sky warily, Jensen made his way to breakfast with Jared and the others. They were joined almost immediately by Felicia, who was wearing a thick riding cloak over her usual devotee uniform.

“You,” she said dramatically, “are going to Southport today. Oracle’s orders. You should know, though, that Caroline sent our purloined horses back to Sheppardston with the emissaries.”

“What? Why?” Alona demanded to know. She sounded angry, but Jensen didn’t jump in to defend or argue, he sat at the breakfast table and waited for Felicia to continue. She looked a little taken aback by Alona’s outburst, but her smile only faltered a little.

“How are we supposed to get to Southport without-“

“Alona,” Jared said gently. “Let’s hear her out, alright?”

Alona’s lips pinched shut and she crossed her arms, but she did stop her tirade.

“There’s a -“ Felicia took a deep breath and started over. “There’s a railway being built east of here, over on the plains. We thought that we’d ride over there - we do have horses of our own here - and see if you could catch a ride down to Southport on the train.”

“And if they don’t let us ride on the train, what will we do then?” Genevieve asked. Alona nodded emphatically.

“We’ll figure it out from there, I guess,” Felicia said.

***

The train ride down to Southport was unpleasant. The train was loud and bumpy, jostling the passengers from side to side as it chugged, churned, and lurched its way down the track. There were no seats. Jared, Genevieve, Alona and Jensen were seated in a boxcar that was meant to be filled with construction supplies, and so the floor of the car was covered in sawdust. Jensen was sure the sawdust was alive and on a quest to infiltrate his trousers. His companions seemed to be facing the same dilemma, if the way they shifted their positions from minute to minute was any indication.

Overhead, the clouds were darkening from yellow to a sickly blue-green that threatened to bring much needed summer rain, but since the boxcar didn’t have a roof, he prayed that the rain would hold off until they could get to Southport.

His prayers went unanswered. Or, if they were, then that answer was a big, resounding no. Jensen supposed he had no room to complain, after all the ride down to Southport was free since the train was returning for supplies anyway. Thankfully the clouds quickly emptied their burden and drifted elsewhere, but the four were now drenched and sitting in soggy sawdust. Jensen was really hoping they would find warm beds in Southport. He eyed the lute that he’d propped against the wall of the car and idly wondered if a song might cheer everyone up, or at least distract them from the miserable riding conditions, but looking at his fellow travelers he dismissed the idea.

Genevieve had been mostly silent throughout the morning and subsequent train ride, not an unusual feat for her, but her eyes were haunted and Jensen was a little worried about her.

“So, these dreams,” he said. “Do you think we should talk about them?”

Genevieve, who’d positioned herself in the corner of the car, drew her knees up under her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. She wasn’t shivering, but Jensen imagined she was probably cold nonetheless.

“What’s there to talk about?” Alona said, and she sounded defensive. Jensen sighed.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But they’re obviously bothering all of us.”

“So we’ve all had horrible lives,” Alona said. “I’m sure everyone has a sob story or two. Let’s just deal with it and move on.”

“I hate them,” Genevieve said. “I don’t want any more memories, if that’s what they are. The Oracle said that two of us wouldn’t complete this quest. Maybe I don’t want to.”

“That’s cheery,” Jensen heard Jared mutter under his breath. “Maybe,” he said, this time loud enough to be heard by everyone over the train, “we should try to guess who is who. Or who is what. I’ll go first.” Jared didn’t wait for anyone’s consent before he began his little game. Jensen wondered if perhaps Jared didn’t want to talk about the memories, or if perhaps this was his way of doing so. Either way Jensen felt a little annoyed.

“Alright, so one of us is a dragon, one’s a wizard, one’s a soldier, and one’s a dryad. I’m obviously the dryad.” Jared smiled, the curve of his mouth showing that he didn’t quite believe his own words. “I think, hmm, Alona, you’re the dragon, Genevieve is the soldier and Jensen, you’re the wizard.”

Jensen couldn’t help but smile. “I’m the wizard? Nah, I’m the dragon, of course.”

“Why do you get to be the dragon? I’m the dragon,” Alona said. “Can you imagine? Being able to fly? I’d love that.”

“That would be incredible,” Genevieve said, her eyes darting from one person to the next as if she were afraid to voice her opinion. “I think Jensen’s the dryad, and I think Jared’s the soldier. Although Jared could be the dryad, he’s certainly tall enough to be a tree, I suppose.”

Jared laughed, his dimples coming out in full force as he leaned back against the side of the railcar. He stretched his arms over his head, spreading his fingers in an attempt to look like a tree.

“I’m a dryad,” he laughed. “Come climb in my branches.”

Jensen felt a strange churning in his stomach, and realized that he was tempted by the offer. His mind filled with images, once again, of Jared in the bathing pool. Not once, but twice over he’d had Jared next to him in the water, both of them completely naked, and the second time Jared hadn’t tried anything. Jensen was regretting that he’d said no that first night.

Oh, was he ever.

***

A bustling port city, Southport was much, much larger than Sheppardston. They reached the outskirts of the town long before they were anywhere close to the city center. The train yard was just outside the town, and Jensen could see the bare bones of what was most likely going to be the train station at some point.

Jensen couldn’t help feeling a little excited about the island of Mainsail finally getting its own railway. The steam locomotive had been invented nearly fifty years ago or so, and the Mainland had miles upon miles of railways, all going to different cities and pushing the economy of the more distant towns upwards and onwards. He wondered if perhaps someday there might be bridges linking the islands that were closer together, and how things would change once that happened. It would be very interesting to see, but he didn’t know if he’d be around to see it. If he was the dryad, he probably wouldn’t care about mundane things like human travel once he was fully restored. The same thing could be said if he were the dragon, he supposed. Plus there was the small detail of two of their party failing the quest. He may not even survive to see the railway on Mainsail finished. The thought made him unbelievably morose. There was too much to see yet -- too much to do.

“Hey, are you alright?” he heard Jared ask him with a poke to his shoulder. “You’re just sitting there, and it’s time to get off the train.”

Jensen jerked his head up, looking around in surprise. The train had indeed stopped, and now that Jensen noticed it, the air surrounding him seemed too quiet without the steady chug-chug of the locomotive. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed.

“Well,” said Genevieve, jumping down from the railcar and favoring her ankle for a moment when she landed wrong, “We’re in Southport. What now?”

“You’re only barely in Southport,” said the engineer as he stepped down from the engine car. “I’m going home for the night, but I can give you a lift into the city proper if you want. Do you have a place to stay yet?”

“Not yet,” Jared answered for all of them. “But we would appreciate a ride if it’s not inconvenient.”

“Not at all,” the engineer said. “Let me go hook up the wagon and you all can ride with me.”

“Thanks,” Jared said. “Do you need any help with the wagon?”

“Nah,” the other man said with a smile. “Hortense and Bessie - those are my horses - can almost hook themselves up by now, so why don’t you walk around and stretch your legs a bit while I get the wagon ready.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Alona with a stretch. “Come on, Gen, walk with me.” At first Jensen was unsure if Alona was talking to him or to Genevieve, but that question was answered when he saw that Alona had stretched out her hand to Genevieve, who took it and they walked off together, fingers entwined.

“Huh,” Jared said, echoing Jensen’s reaction.

“Yeah,” Jensen said. Eloquent, he chided himself. Then again, Jared’s reaction hadn’t been the pillar of vernacular prowess either.

There really wasn’t too much of interest to look at in the train yard. Jared seemed altogether more eager to investigate the train itself than to walk around. Jensen had seen more than enough, so he leaned back against the engine car and waited for their ride to be ready while Jared entertained himself trying to figure out the mechanics of the locomotive. Finally, the engineer called them over with a loud, “Hullo! You ready to go?”

In a few minutes they were on their way into Southport proper, and Jensen let himself take in the sights. Southport was significantly warmer than Oracle Grove. Jensen didn’t know if the difference lay in the lack of trees filtering the sunlight in Southport or if they’d traveled far enough south for there to be a change in climate.

Oh, there were some trees, set in the sidewalks and surrounded by little cages as if to prevent their escape back to the forest. With dryads being a reality and not a myth, perhaps that was the case. Jensen felt silly resenting the cages around the trees. These were not dryadic trees - he’d be able to sense that, wouldn’t he?

“Alright, boys and girls, end of the line,” the engineer said. “About a half a mile down that road are the docks, and there’s quite a few inns around here if you need to find a place to stay.”

“Thanks,” Jensen said as he climbed down from the wagon, the lute secured across his back.

With that they said their good-byes and were on their way.

“I suppose we should try to sing for our supper, yes?” Jensen asked his companions, motioning to the lute.

“Good idea,” Jared said. “I’m hungry and we should probably try to save the food the Oracle devotees sent with us.”

Nodding their assent, Jensen and the others meandered through the streets until they found a likely looking inn that had an empty stage set up in one corner. After some finagling and a demonstration of their skills, they arranged to play two shows a day - one during the lunch hour and one at dinner - in exchange for two rooms and one meal a day until they were able to secure passage to where they wanted to go.

They also learned from the gruff, elderly innkeeper that finding a vessel to sail all the way down to the island of Seagrave, where Misha the Mapmaker lived, was nearly impossible.

“Only one man’s crazy enough to sail to Seagrave this time of the year because of those blasted pirates that sail through the Devil’s Trench! To the depths with all them,” the old man cursed through his thick grey mustache. “The name you’re looking for is Jeffrey Dean Morgan, or Mad Cap’n Morgan although don’t call him that to his face if you’re going to be asking any favors from him.”

“Ah, I see,” said Jared. Jensen was too busy thinking about what kind of a man earned a nickname like Mad Captain Morgan and wasn’t a pirate. He wasn’t a pirate, was he?

“No, he isn’t a pirate!” the innkeeper laughed, surprising Jensen. He hadn’t thought he’d said that out loud. “He’s my nephew and he’ll be here probably in the next few days to drink my ale and eat my food and not pay me one blessed coin for it. He does like a jaunty tune and a beautiful woman, though, so you may be able to procure your passage on that.”

Alona looked vaguely offended and Genevieve frowned.

“I’m not going to sleep with the man just to get to a ride on his ship,” Alona said.

“No, no, of course not,” the innkeeper said. “Never said you’d have to. He just likes to look, says he’d already got a woman of his own but he’s never brought her around here.”

“Maybe he likes the boys?” Jared said, and once again the innkeeper just laughed.

“I’m not denying I’ve wondered the same thing myself, but if he does then he likes both, for a lovely woman can sure enough turn his head even in the middle of an important talk. I’ve seen it happen enough, the rogue. In any case, I believe it’s time for your first performance.” He tossed Jensen a small woven basket. “You can keep any tips you make for spending money. You look like you’ve traveled light and rough. Maybe buy yourself some new clothes - those look like they’ve seen better days about thirty years ago.”

***

“It’s been three days,” Jensen said as he and Jared prepared for bed one evening. “I don’t like this. What if more Witherkin show up? You know the Oracle said they were drawn to us.”

Jared shrugged as he slipped his nightshirt over his head, covering a body Jensen was getting more and more fond of ogling. Their tips had been profitable and Jensen had purchased two sets of clothing plus a long sleep shirt to wear to bed. Jared had done the same, although there was part of Jensen that missed Jared sleeping naked.

“Not much we can do about it,” Jared said. “The Oracle said the further away from that forest we went the less likely they were to appear, so let’s just hope that we’re far enough away.”

The dreams had ceased for the most part. The dragon was holding his or her memories close, or perhaps dragons didn’t have memories the way humans and dryads did. But that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? All creatures had some memories. They had to.

“You disappear into your own head a lot, Jensen,” Jared said, and Jensen looked up from where he sat on the edge of his bed. Jared was standing very close - close enough to touch.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Jensen apologized as Jared sat down next to him. The dip of the mattress had Jensen sliding incrementally closer to the other man.
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Jared said. “I think it’s a little endearing.”

Jensen snorted. Endearing.

“Do you think this Mad Captain Morgan is ever going to show up?” Jared sighed.

“Hopefully soon,” Jensen said. “I don’t like waiting. Apparently patience is a virtue I don’t have.”

Jared laughed and leaned in towards Jensen, as if he were going to tell him a secret, so Jensen leaned forwards as well. Jared sighed.

“How well do you know yourself now, Jensen?” Jared said softly, his voice gone a little husky. “Because I’d really, really like to kiss you again.”

“I- I don’t,” Jensen said. “You know that I don’t.” It was true, but that didn’t explain why Jensen was the one closing the distance between them, drawing Jared closer with one hand on his neck pulling him near. The back of Jared’s neck was warm, Jensen noticed, and his hair was very soft where he tangled his fingers in it. Jared gave a little gasp of surprise but didn’t question it and simply let his lips meet Jensen’s as they moved against each other.

Jared’s tongue gently swept across the seam of Jensen’s lips, asking for permission to go further, and Jensen opened his mouth to Jared, granting entrance. The kiss was a gentle exploration of each other, almost tentative, but Jared’s hand on Jensen’s thigh was not. Jared’s hand was like a brand, squeezing the muscle tight as if to keep his fingers from slipping up just the little bit further and taking Jensen in hand. Jensen felt himself responding to that idea, his most intimate part thickening with arousal which he tried in vain to fight against. They kissed like that for a few more moments, and then Jared reluctantly pulled away.

Jensen, his eyes still closed, tried to follow Jared, but Jared lifted his index finger and traced Jensen’s spit-slick lips.

“Goodnight, Jensen,” he said. “From now on I’m kissing you goodnight every night.

“You are?,” Jensen said, a little embarrassed at how breathy his voice sounded.

“Yes, I am,” Jared said.

“Oh, alright,” Jensen said, still feeling a bit dazed.

Jared laughed, and kissed him again before standing up, blowing out the candle, and going to his own bed.

***

The next day they finally met the captain. He came in during their noon performance and it was only due to the innkeeper’s very accurate description of his nephew that Jensen realized who the very enthusiastic audience member was. He’d left his table and motioned for several of his companions, crew members most likely, to come up right next to the stage as if they couldn’t hear the music from their tables. It made Jensen smile while he belted out the lyrics, joined in harmony by Genevieve who actually had a surprisingly sweet voice. The captain clapped his hands in time with the music, hollering out the lyrics when they sang something he knew and occasionally grabbing a waitress and forcing her to dance with him. It would have been obnoxious if it weren’t for the fact that everyone could tell he meant nothing malicious by it. The man was simply having a good time and apparently really liked the music.

Looking at the man, taking in the scruff on his face and his clothing choices, Jensen decided the man looked more like a pirate from a hundred years ago than a respectable ship’s captain. Perhaps that was part of the reason he’d earned his moniker. Jensen’s fingers faltered slightly on the strings of the lute, earning him an amused glance from Jared, who was beating out a rhythm on a makeshift drum in time with the music.

Sometimes Jensen wondered which of them really knew all of this music that they played. Whoever it was knew a lot of different songs, from sad songs that could nearly bring their audience to tears to lively songs that could inspire the patrons, like Captain Morgan here, to get up and dance a jig.

It never ceased to amuse Jensen, and he hoped he wouldn’t lose the songs once he got his memories back.

After two more songs to complete their set, the innkeeper stumbled up on the stage - the second step up tripped everyone, every time -and told them that Jeffrey Dean Morgan would like to speak with them at his table.

Genevieve looked nervous. She kept wiping her hands on her dress even though Jensen knew there was no way she was sweating that much. Alona looked eager, and grabbed Jared’s hand, leading him off stage towards Captain Jeffrey’s table.

“Excellent show!” the captain called as they wove their way through the other tables arranged in the dining area. He waited for them to seat themselves before offering them bread rolls from the basket on the table. Jensen and the others declined the food; they would be eating later and right now all of them just wanted to talk business.

“My uncle tells me you are seeking passage down to Seagrave. You do know those are dangerous waters this time of year, right?” Jeffrey leaned forward, his eyes twinkling despite the warning he was giving to the travelers. “Not only are there pirates in the strait this time of year, but it’s the summer storm season in the trench. Then there’s always the sea dragon, who is notorious for sinking ships that venture too far into its territory.”

“A sea dragon,” Jared echoed. It wasn’t a question so much as a statement. “Is there really a sea dragon?”

“That’s what they say,” Jeffrey said, a grin stretching wide across his face. He leaned forward and stroked his salt and pepper beard. “I’d say I’d never seen it myself, but sometimes you do see things through the storms, out there in the water. You might say your eyes are playing tricks on you, but you never really know.”

Alona blinked at him and pushed her hair back from her face. “As fun as this is to talk about how dangerous the trip is and how there may or may not be mythical sea dragons in the water, we really need to get to Seagrave. You seemed to really enjoy our show. Would you be willing to grant us passage on your ship if we entertained the crew?”

The captain straightened in his chair and laughed, long and hard. “You’re a regular spitfire, you are,” he said to Alona. “But that’s an awfully cheap ticket, if you ask me. I do have a few rooms below deck that I use to sometimes transport passengers, but mostly I’m a merchant ship. I don’t suppose any of you know anything about sailing?”

Jensen glanced at his companions, and shook his head. No, they didn’t know anything about sailing, so offering to be part of his crew was definitely not an option.

“Tell you what,” Jeffrey said. “I know my uncle is generous and lets you keep your tips. I set sail for Seagrave in two days - be there with all of your tips between now and then and we’ll call it a deal - along, of course with you entertaining my crew.”

His gaze fell on Genevieve and his grin took on a wolfish quality.

“Music only,” she said, scooting her chair back an inch or two, causing it to reverberate loudly against the wooden floor.

“But of course,” Jeffrey said. “Music only.”

***

“Ugh, I am never going to get my sea legs,” Genevieve said as they set out from Azimuth, the largest island between Mainsail and Seagrave and one of the few stops the captain had to make. They only stayed in port in Azimuth for a day, so none of the four felt the need to go exploring the island and stayed on the ship.

Despite Genevieve’s complaints, her favorite place to be was leaning up against the rail, watching the water as they sailed onwards. Jensen gave her a smile.

“Well you know, that green shade is quite fetching on you,” he teased, earning a playful slap to the shoulder.

“I think anything would look fetching on Genevieve,” said Jeffrey, joining them against the railing. Genevieve looked down at the water, a slight blush staining her cheeks. “How are you all enjoying the voyage?”

“I think it’s going well,” Jensen said, “maybe not as well for Genevieve.”

“You’ll get your sea legs yet,” Jeffrey laughed. “You’ll see.”

“Oh, I hope so,” Genevieve said with a sigh. “I can’t wait until we get to Seagrave.”

“Just a few more days, my dear,” the captain said. “Assuming we have good weather. We’re sailing into the strait now.”

“Isn’t the Strait of Pellegrino the same thing as the Devil’s Trench?” Jensen asked and Jeffrey nodded.

“The exact same,” he confirmed.

“Why did they give it such an awful nickname?” Genevieve wanted to know. She looked a little pale under the green.

“I think it’s because of the number of ships that have sank in the strait,” Jeffrey said. “But don’t worry, I know how to navigate the strait. We’re old friends, we go way back.”

“It’s the sea dragon,” said Jared, appearing beside Jensen. “I was talking to the crew about the sea dragon legends, and they say the sea dragon dragged all those ships to the bottom of the trench. They say those shipwrecks have never been found and that the crew members never washed ashore. Do you think the sea dragon ate them?” Jared’s hand rested on the small of Jensen’s back almost possessively. Perhaps it was.

If possible, Genevieve went even paler. “Does the sea dragon exist? I mean, it could, right? Considering one of us is a-“

Jensen shot Genevieve a glare to shut her up, and it worked. They hadn’t told the captain why they needed to get to Seagrave, only that it was very important. They’d agreed that they would tell only people who it was necessary to tell about their quest. The last thing they needed was someone thinking they were crazy and locking them up in an asylum.

“Captain, there’s bad weather on the horizon,” said one of the crew members, coming up behind Jeffrey and tapping him on the shoulder. “You might want to take a look at this.”

“Thanks,” said Jeffrey. “I’ll come take a look. You four might want to head below deck to your rooms. Looks like there might be a storm rolling in.”

Nodding, Genevieve went off to find Alona. Jensen and Jared retreated to their room. Below deck the increased sway of the ship in the choppy water was much more apparent, and Jensen stumbled into Jared as they walked toward their beds. Jared caught him and helped him right himself, which Jensen acknowledged with a laughing, “Thank you.”

“Any excuse to put my hands on you,” Jared teased gently, sitting on the rag-filled mattress that served as guest bedding on the ship.

“You’re such a flirt, Jared,” Jensen said, flopping down onto his own mattress and sprawling as much as the small bed would allow him to. “Why?”

“Why not?” Jared responded quickly.

“Probably because you’ve got nothing better to do,” Jensen said as the ship hit a particularly rough patch of water. He grabbed the sides of his mattress with both hands.

Suddenly Jared abandoned his own mattress to join Jensen on his, which was ridiculous when it was barely big enough for Jensen by himself. Jared pressed himself close, crowding Jensen against the wall of the room. Jared looked genuinely upset.

“Is that really what you think? You think I flirt with you and kiss you goodnight every night because I’ve nothing better to do?” Jared’s mouth narrowed into a thin line as he waited for Jensen’s response.

“I don’t know, Jared,” Jensen said, shifting on the mattress. “This is rather uncomfortable.”

“Yeah it is, “ Jared agreed. “Look, Jensen, I don’t know how to explain it but ever since I saw you in that forest - I just - I just like you, alright? Is that so bad? And everything I’ve learned about you since then has only made me like you more.”

“Jared, what if-“Jensen didn’t finish that sentence. There were so many what ifs.

“Then we’ll deal with it,” Jared said. “Whatever comes from it, whatever we find out when we reach the Pool of Restoration - we’ll figure it out. But for now, I’d really just like to kiss you.”

The nearness of Jared was waging war on Jensen’s senses. “Alright,” he agreed.

“Alright?” Jared looked skeptical, as if he hadn’t heard right.

“Alright,” Jensen confirmed and in the next moment Jared’s lips were on his, Jared’s tongue demanding entrance into Jensen’s mouth. Jensen gasped against the onslaught. This was Jared nearly desperate and not holding back, and Jensen wanted more. He’d held off long enough and rolled so that he was slotted against Jared, front to front instead of front to side. He ran his hand down Jared’s side and let it trail across his hips to grab a firm handful of Jared’s ass and tug him even closer, if that was possible. Jensen could feel the hard length of Jared’s arousal pressing against him and he pulled himself the inch or so up Jared’s body so that it lined up with his own. They sighed into each other’s mouths at that, at the friction between them, and in unspoken agreement they pressed their hips together, thrust and retreat. A steady crescendo built between them as they joined themselves at the mouth, tongues and teeth and not enough.

A sudden lurch of the ship caused them to roll off of the bed and onto the hard wooden floor. Elbows and knees colliding with the floor and with each other quickly wilted any arousal Jensen was feeling.

“All hands on deck! All hands on deck!”

Outside their door the call repeated, growing louder and then fainter as whoever was shouting it moved around below deck.

“Do you think that means us?” Jared wanted to know.

“Doubt it,” said Jensen with a grimace as he rubbed his elbow, “but maybe we should go up there just to make sure.”

The ship was rocking violently now as Jared and Jensen made their way to the deck. Alona and Genevieve were already there, looking scared. It was very dark out now, even with it being late afternoon, and the sky was roiling with green-tinged storm clouds that swirled menacingly, seeming to circle the vessel they were on. That was strange. Could clouds do that? They seemed to move almost with purpose. In the distance, Jensen saw bolts of lightning that illuminated the sky in purples, blues and reds. He was sure they were about to die.

The rain was coming down fiercely, everyone on board was completely soaked in a matter of seconds and despite the storm Jensen took a moment to appreciate Jared’s form in his wet and clinging shirt. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. This was not the place or time, even if it almost had been.

“What are you doing up on deck?” Jensen heard the captain shout at them over the pelting rain. “You’re just going to get in the way! Go back to your rooms!”

Just then the ship started to turn - not a gentle turn as if the captain were guiding her through the storm, but rather a sharp, deliberate spin that felt very much like the ship had gotten caught in a whirlpool.

“Samantha!” Jensen heard the captain shout.

Wait, what? Samantha? Well that didn’t make any sense.

“Samantha, stop this! What in the depths are you doing?” Jeffrey continued to yell at, well, the storm, apparently, because there were no women in his crew.

“Do you think he’s lost his mind?” Genevieve cried. She’d wrapped her arms around Jared’s midsection to anchor herself, which wasn’t a half-bad idea. Alona must have thought so as well, since she was wrapped around Jared from the other side. Jensen was a little jealous that there wasn’t room for him. Jensen shrugged and shook his head. He supposed it was plausible. They did call him Mad Captain Morgan after all.

“No!” Jensen said, spying something in the water through the rain. Impossible. It wasn’t waves that he saw but rather coils - long coils like a giant snake swimming in the water.

The ship seemed to stabilize, not rocking back and forth so much anymore but still slowly spinning in the current. Around them the storm raged on, circling the spinning ship, but they were in the eye of the storm. Weren’t they?

The captain ran to the edge of the ship, leaning over the rails and still calling for Samantha, whoever she was. Suddenly, out of the water a head appeared, giant and green-scaled, with a long snout and mouthful of razor-sharp teeth.

Jensen heard the women gasp, and probably he did as well as they all realized that the sea-dragon was real. Not only that, but they were probably all about to die. The Oracle’s words suddenly rang clear in Jensen’s mind.

Two of you will not complete the quest.

Maybe this was it. Maybe this was why.

“Samantha, come down here and talk to me rationally,” Jeffrey demanded of the dragon. The creature reared back and glared at the captain with baleful eyes and snapped its teeth together menacingly, but it did not attack.

“You owe me that much! You just tried to tear my ship apart!” Jeffrey shouted. The dragon narrowed its eyes further, but then its form began to shimmer and shrink, and in the next moment a woman stepped onto the deck of the ship. She walked up to Jeffrey, grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and hauled him down to face level, where she proceeded to slant her mouth against his, kissing him aggressively. Jeffrey seemed surprised at first but then went with it, kissing the dragon and putting on a display that made Jensen a little uncomfortable.

“Jeffrey Dean Morgan, you philandering whore of a man, how dare you demand anything of me.” The dragon, no-woman, sounded surprisingly calm. She was also completely dry, her soft brown hair flowing in waves to her shoulders. She was of a similar age as the captain, neither old nor young, and her eyes lit on the four travelers.

“Samantha, please, what is going on here?” Jeffrey followed the woman as she strode closer to Jensen and his companions.

“You’ve brought another dragon into my territory! Which one is she?”

When Jeffrey didn’t answer the woman, Samantha stepped in close to each of them, inhaling their scent and then looking confused.

“You - each of you seems to be dragon, and yet not,” she said. “How is that possible?” She turned to the captain. “What is going on here?”

Now it was Jeffrey who was glaring at the travelers. “That is what I would like to know as well,” he said. “Apparently someone forgot to disclose something very important to me before I agreed to grant passage on my ship.”

“You didn’t know?” Samantha’s voice softened and now she turned to face Jeffrey.

“No, I didn’t,” the captain said, his eyes fixed on Jensen, his expression steely. “Are you dragons? Any of you?”

“Well, not exactly,” Jared said. “It’s a long story.”

Captain Jeffrey came up behind Samantha and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her body close to his. “Come on, darlin’, I’d never knowingly bring another dragon into your territory. I’d never cheat on you either. You should know that.”

Samantha relaxed back into the embrace of the captain but still eyed the four travelers warily.

“Alright, I believe you,” she said. “And I want to hear this long story of yours, but first, I believe my captain and I have some catching up to do - in his cabin. Jeffrey, come.” Jensen watched in amazement as the storm around the ship dissipated in an instant, the rain from the clouds falling back into the ocean in one loud crash of water . Samantha led Jeffrey towards the captain’s chambers and soon enough they were gone, leaving a flustered Jensen and his companions standing on the deck, receiving strange, somewhat hostile, looks from the crew.

Jensen, Jared, Alona and Genevieve all retreated to their rooms.

Chapter Eight | Chapter Ten

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