Adarna

Chapter 13

Everyone on the ship noticed a change, but it took them a while to figure out quite what it was. Helix, as they knew him, gradually disappeared. He started talking less, stopped letting his eyes crawl over his crew like he was imagining what they might look like under their uniform, and stopped drinking. It wasn't an obvious change at first, it came on gradually as the winds picked up again and The Siren was once again on its way. But once they began to noticed it, it was impossible to stop.

Gossip spread, as gossip does, and rumours began to start up as to what might have caused the change. One whisper at a time, people began to suspect that it was the influence of the ghost aboard the ship. The ghost itself, when hearing this news, actively encouraged the idea. Robin was skeptical of what mood this bring over the sailors, but he had worried for nothing. A sense of security and discipline settled over the crew as The Siren picked up speed over the waves. A wrongdoer was punished, anyone who was thinking of acting up suddenly stepped into line, and the stagnant wait on the water had finally ended. To the superstitious crew, the ghost was a blessing and should be treated as such.

Crew members started to leave little offerings for the ghost near the hideaway spots where its voice was most often heard. It started with a loaf of bread, and then other things, like a rare piece of fresh fruit—grown in a room which only the chef had access to, and handed out just often enough to ward off disease and scurvy—toffee candies, and on occasion, pieces of string, jewellery, or pretty rocks. Freyr liked the rocks best, though no one was quite sure where they came from or which sailor might have chosen to bring them along. They were beautiful and smooth, and Freyr began making a necklace by netting them together.

The whispering, coupled with the changes in the behaviour of the crew, was enough to draw the Captain's attention. It was fortunate, in a way, that the collective shift in the crew's attitude hid some of the flaws in Dinta's acting. Any discrepancy was taken to be a matter of course, or a sign of the ghost's touch—which, Robin has to admit, wasn't technically incorrect. But when everyone avoided telling the Captain or Mar the reason for their changes—it was never a good idea to report a ghost, after all—Robin was inevitably summoned to his quarters to explain the situation.

Robin knocked and entered, glancing around to see who else was there. It was the usual three, each of them giving him a scrutinising frown with their own particular twist on the expression. Mar, with a furrow between her brows. Hal, with what Robin had come to recognise as a faux-bored demeanour, and the Captain taking off his reading-glasses with calm deliberation. Together they silently seemed to be projecting the same thought: this is your doing somehow, isn't it? Well, it was rather rude of them to assume that he had something to do with the situation at hand. They were right, of course, but it was still rude to assume. They had no proof. He pulled his collar up to his chin and ignored the way sweat trickled down his back. It was far too hot to be dressed as he was, but the bruises hadn't faded yet, and he didn't want people asking questions.

He opened his mouth to offer a greeting when he caught a slight glimmer in the corner of his eye. The wall near him shifted slightly, a deliberate movement meant to catch his attention and no one else's. He shut his mouth so fast he bit his cheek and suppressed a yelp of pain. He disguised his surprise with a cough.

FREYR? he wanted to scream. What was it doing here? But he got his answer almost immediately, as he heard a hushed whisper in his ear.

"Make me sound good! I wanna be a cool ghost."

He resisted the urge to rub his temples, or to simply burst into tears. The crying would be long overdue, but likely not appreciated, so he pushed it down.

"Captain," he greeted at last. "You called me?"

"Yes," he said. "Patrick, could you pour us some tea? I suspect we may be a while."