The Eighth Sea

Chapter 17

Levi

"I don't trust the fish," Hector immediately said. "There's no way we'd have a whole dinner just sitting out here."

Levi silently agreed. He had concluded that Scylla liked playing games and prolonging their suffering, but she surely had to make sure that any unwanted visitors would die.

But before everyone could heed Hector's warning, Levi heard Pierre's distinct footsteps walk in the general direction of the fish, quickly followed by loud, disgusting eating sounds. Mouth sounds had always been one of his least favorite things, but after Wren had inadvertently cursed him, his other senses had become much stronger. So now Pierre's eating sounds were liked nails on a chalkboard.

"Guys, it's really good! Tastes almost as good as Charlo—"

"—I don't want to know, Pierre," Hector interrupted. "Pierre, tell us how you feel."

"Like I just ate Char—"

"—No!" Francis shouted.

"Fine! I feel like I'm floating. Hey, guys, look! I'm flying!"

Levi furrowed his brow in confusion. There was no way Pierre was truly flying, and an annoyed sigh from Wren confirmed his suspicions. He then paused, taking a moment to think of why exactly Pierre was acting so insane—well, more insane than usual. It could have been intense dehydration mixed with drunkenness from having so much moonshine, or it could have been the fish that Pierre had eaten.

Gerald must have also eaten some of the fish, because he then started attempting to give Levi a hug, one that Levi continuously pushed away from.

"But Levi! I love you! We kissed under the moonlight!" Gerald whined.

"Get away!" Levi snapped. "It was a moment of drunken stupidity."

Gerald burst into loud sobs, broken by the rejection. He turned and rushed away from Levi, going to drown his sorrows out with tuna.

"I'm gonna try some fish," Wren commented, unsurprisingly. "Seems like it'd be fun!"

"Wren, no!" Hector tried to stop Wren, but it was too late.

Wren's nearly transparent figure made its way onto a table, where he spooned a mouthful of fish into his mouth. Within seconds, he put his hand up and started monologuing. "My nose was beguiled by the soft scent of fresh fish, and I soon discovered the source of such a lovely aroma. A half-eaten sandwich composed of the finest tuna and embraced by soft, white bread met my eyes as it reposed, lovely and only slightly chewed on the mahogany table."

Soon, both Patricia and Francis had eaten some of the fish, and they too were getting loopy. Patricia started singing what Levi thought was the Queen of the Night aria, though it was hard to tell when the drunken woman was so off-key. Francis, on the other hand, got really, really quiet, to the point Levi went to go check up on them.

"Seems like the fish is affectin' everyone differently," Hector noted. "Judgin' by these symptoms, it might be some sort of hallucinogen." He went to go examine one of the plates and loudly sniffed it. "Smells normal."

"Hector, my love!" Wren shouted, jumping off of the table and embracing the first mate. "Is that a new cologne? You smell... delectable."

"Haven't bathed in weeks," Hector deadpanned.

"Must be the tuna, then. You guys should try it! The rest of us are having a grand ol' time."

"Mmm... Charlotte," Pierre moaned, enthusiastically (and very loudly) eating more of the tuna.