Abhorrent Practices - Book 1

Chapter 4.3 - The Jennie (Scene 3: Auld Acquaintance)

"I d-don't know," fretted Skrawl. "I'm supposed to take you s-straight to Sandrine."

Alyss smiled warmly at him. She had never met a preen before and, when Skrawl had first unlocked her cabin, his reptilian appearance had taken her by surprise. His apparent eagerness to please, however, had quickly won her over.

"Oh, come now, I only want to thank him," insisted Alyss. "And Sandrine knows we'll be there." She stared out over the starboard gunwhale at the vast expanse of the Diamond Sea which separated Tremayne from Brael. She'd lain awake most of the night, contemplating her predicament and cursing the uncomfortable cot which pressed hard against her bones. No matter how she looked at it, she always returned to one inescapable fact. As long as she was on this ship, any further attempt to fight her captors would be futile. "After all," she concluded. "It's not as if there's anywhere I can go."

Alyss followed Skrawl as he led her away from the rest of the crew, many of whom eyed her with distaste as she passed. Maybe some of them actually believed all the lurid tales of Griellean witchcraft and sorcery, she thought. She was certain there'd be two who would remember the struggle she'd put up, as they'd tried to bundle her into her cabin the night before. She'd raked her nails across the shoulder of one, and had sunk her teeth into the forearm of another.

She turned her attention to Skrawl as he scurried ahead of her, his clawed feet scrabbling against the bare boards. He had no trouble staying upright as the ship rolled gently from side to side, his four legs expertly compensating for the deck as it shifted beneath him. It was his four conical eyes which fascinated her most, however; never at rest, each one swivelling independently, looking first one way and then another. She'd heard of preens being employed as communications officers on long-haul ships like the Jennie, but she'd never expected to meet one. They were rare. Even on their native island of Xhal, the numbers of preen were said to be dwindling, and very few ever strayed far from their homeland. She wondered if Skrawl had been taken from there by force? If so, maybe she could make a friend of him. Or at least an ally.

"W-well, here he is!" announced Skrawl, coming to a halt in front of Perrick.

The tall Tharnish merchant was sitting on a pile of coiled ropes, his head bowed, bent low over a heavy, leather-bound ledger balanced on his lap. He grunted something unintelligible, but made no attempt to look up at the preen in front of him. The pen in his hand continued to twitch, rapidly moving back and forth across the four columns of figures on the right-hand page.

"Mister Skrawl tells me, I have you to thank," said Alyss, a smile in her voice. Her white dress rustled as she stepped forward, the folds of its full skirts constantly rippling in the sea breeze.

"For?" Perrick kept his gaze focused on the ledger. No longer a potential customer, the Griellean woman scarcely merited his attention.

"My rescue," she elaborated, and this time Perrick could have sworn he heard the faintest hint of a laugh tinkling somewhere in the distance. "You sent those people - Sandrine and Naylor? - to help me."

"No, I didn't." The merchant moved his eyes to the left of the ledger. Tallies of food stuffs, sail cloth, ropes and every sort of ship's supply nudged up against his personal stocks of items bought and sold. His pen hesitated over the entry relating to the witchglobe he'd sold this woman just twenty-four hours earlier. "Sandrine's my business partner, and she needed to speak to someone from Grielle. I just told her where to find you."

"Well, for my clothes then. My belongings. Mister Skrawl tells me you went to my lodgings to fetch those."

"It was a favour," he muttered. "And not for you!" he added hurriedly. "For Sandrine. She thought it might make you more inclined to help."

"You do a lot for Sandrine," smiled Alyss. "Are you sure you're not more than business partners?"

With a weary sigh, Perrick reluctantly closed the ledger and looked up into the eyes of the woman standing before him. They were exactly as he remembered them from the market: grey, like a cloudy sky threatening rain, the pupils large and speckled with tiny stars. She was wearing a long, silver-white satin dress, embroidered with an intricate floral design picked out in ivory. In the harsh light of the morning, it shimmered like opals.

"Don't be so absurd," he rebuked her. "I would never risk prejudicing a business relationship with something so ..."

"Intimate?"

"Unprofitable."

Alyss flashed him her warmest smile. Could she win him over? Just because she hadn't been thrown overboard yet, that didn't mean she wouldn't need friends later.

"I understand," she said, adjusting the white shawl covering her head. The tiny pearls stitched into its fringe shimmered like milky tears. "Well, it seems I should be directing all my appreciation to Sandrine. Oh, and to your dashing captain, of course. Naylor? That is his name, isn't it?"

Perrick snorted and turned his attention back to his ledger. He opened the book slowly, and deliberately smoothed the page at which it opened.

"It's a b-bit early for P-Perrick," giggled Skrawl by way of apology.

"I'm busy, Skrawl," Perrick muttered, barely acknowledging Alyss's presence. "If you want to eat next month, you'll leave me to complete our inventory."

The ship lurched to starboard and Alyss threw out her arms to maintain her balance. Before she knew it, she felt a pair of firm hands take hold of her right arm, steadying her, one hand supporting her elbow, the other closed around her wrist. She turned her head and looked straight into the eyes of a large open face with far too many teeth. Another Turlander, she thought.

"Mister Skrawl," said Khrous. "Sandrine's in the Chart Room, waiting for the ..." She looked Alyss up and down, as if trying to decide on the appropriate word. Alyss had the distinct impression the bosun didn't approve of what she saw. "Passenger," she concluded at last. "I wouldn't keep her waiting."

"Yes, yes!" gabbled Skrawl. "W-we're on our way to see her now." He tugged at the folds of Alyss's skirt, but she was in no hurry to move.

Slowly, she extended a hand towards Perrick, which the merchant made a point of ignoring.

"A pleasure to meet you again," she smiled, raising her palm in a tiny gesture of resignation before withdrawing her hand completely. Even if these people weren't trying to kill her, she reflected, a trip in their company was going to feel like a life sentence in itself. "I do so hope we'll have a chance to become ... better acquainted," was all she said.

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Author's note

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NEXT UP: The next instalment is up and running already, so - if you want to know what happens when Alyss gets to meet Sandrine once more - read on!