The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (boyxboy)

CHAPTER 2

The Merry | Present Day

Slade's office is always jarring to step into.

A scarlet rug interwoven with a geometric golden design covers most of the floor. This, Slade has excitedly told him more than once, is his only souvenir from Az's own country. On every surface there are books, and trinkets made of gold and silver, and painted china, rare uncut rocks, some things that Az can't even identify. On the walls hang gaudy paintings and tapestries interlaced with stunning landscapes. There's not a surface that isn't covered by some material object or brightly-coloured picture.

He stole everything in this room, that's true, but the fact that he chooses to keep these things instead of selling them all says something about him. What exactly that is, Az can't decide, but he knows that walking in here with his bare feet always feels somewhat disrespectful - an interesting accomplishment considering he's never not respected someone as much as he doesn't respect Slade.

Light filters in through the windows on the far side of the room. It halos the captain like a cloak, so bright that he can't quite see those pale eyes, just bone-white fingers laced together to create a resting point for his chin as he leans on his desk.

"Beautiful morning, isn't it, Azaziah?" comes his soft voice. "Have a seat."

Az doesn't want to sit down, but he does so anyway. It's always best to play along with Slade's game of niceties if he wants to keep the captain sweet.

So pale, almost gaunt, with light purple rings under his eyes, and wild shoulder-length hair framing it, is Captain Rowan Slade. Back when Az had first been brought aboard, he'd been struck by how young the captain appeared. The last two years haven't aged him at all. Az estimates he's somewhere in his early thirties.

"I hear you have a job for me," Az says when the silence becomes unbearable.

Slade's grin widens, showing off every perfect white tooth. "I'm glad you seem so enthusiastic! Especially after that unfortunate incident we had last time. That's another town we can't stop in, you know."

"Unfortunate incident?" Az repeats before he can stop himself. "You tortured Isaac."

"For your mistake, need I remind you," Slade says, somewhat wistfully. "Like I said, unfortunate. But we're not here to talk about the past, we're here to talk about the future!" Just like that, Slade brightens and places his hands down on the desk. "We're about to make port in Varez, and I'd really like to get you out and about again. You've been cooped up in here for long enough now. I can tell you're starting to get restless."

Starting to get restless is an interesting way to put it, Az thinks, but he doesn't dare voice that aloud.

"I thought we'd go with something simple to ease you back into it, something that's your style and allows you to stretch your legs a little. Don't say I'm not generous."

He nods when it seems like Slade is waiting for a response.

"Rumour has it a sailor by the name of Enriqué Molina spotted something odd during his latest travels. Can you guess what that might be?"

"It wouldn't have been a gold-coloured siren by any chance, would it?"

"Clever boy."

Slade rarely goes a day without ranting about his hunt for this "Golden Siren", despite all the evidence pointing to it being nothing more than a wonder tale. Every month, they follow new "leads" to nowhere or nothing. Twice a month or more, Slade snaps and has a complete tantrum about it. The thing doesn't exist. It's a myth, a fantasy story created by sailors looking for something fun to talk about. Sirens in these waters are silver exclusively, with their colouration becoming muddier and verging into blue or green up north. And at the northernmost point of the world, they can be almost completely white.