It took six days to get back to Mediva. The wind was not agreeing with the Pelican. They had also stopped to pick up some of the roses as Kail requested, which cost them half a day’s time. Another day later though and Tusk would have probably combed the seas for them. As was, they were right on time.
The previous six days went by without any problems on board. Takeo had become a bigger celebrity than Keiran. Now that the men could see his human side, they showed him the ropes of sailing. He slept below deck in the room provided for him, which kept all the sun out. Some of the crew already had a converted sleep schedule, giving him frequent company. He kept quiet most of the time, only speaking when first spoken to.
Butterfield was his most frequent companion. He asked him countless questions and wouldn’t stop until he was satisfied with the information gathered. He kept a journal on parchments acquired off of a Pleneasian resource ship.
The other frequent companion was Keiran, but not for the same reason. He studied Takeo, but not his genetic makeup. He was more interested in how he seemed to glide around. He also would through in the odd comment like, “Unimpressed,” or, “Is that all?” in response to him doing work on the ship, even if it was lifting the load of three men. Keiran wasn’t annoyed anymore, and his comments were made mostly in jest, but there was still an element of truth to them. Though he had never fought a Nocturnal he felt that they would be less invincible than legend had it. It made him feel good that he could confidently say that he was still top of the food chain.
Kail had spent his days formally writing and rewriting his plans. So many things had changed over the past few days, with the addition of crew members and now access to a mind altering plant. He hadn’t shared this last phase of his plan with anyone except Foghorn, who of course didn’t approve. Kail knew that it was, if not the only way, at least the most efficient. He wondered how it would go over with the crew. How would it go over with Selestia?
When his mind was not totally preoccupied with the next step of the mission, it was on her. Whatever he felt for her, he was sure she felt for him.
She had spent the days mostly in her room. She was finally capable of walking unassisted. Her ankle was still swollen but it had gone down considerably. She was disappointed at how infrequently Kail had come to visit her. She figured he had his reasons, but wasn’t sure she wanted to know what they were. Kail had asked her to stay on the ship again. He said he wanted to explain his plan to her in private. Why?
After what seemed like an unbearably long trip, they had arrived. Mediva was the hub of shady activity. It was Tusk’s home away from home. He often wagered on the outcome of organized fights they had there. He always bet on himself, and he always won. Winning meccas was a side reason to fight. He loved testing himself. He loved knowing he was the best. That was why Pendola had to die. So he could be the best again.
Kail, followed by his crew met Tusk and his crew in the basement of the Cranky Corkscrew, the local tavern. Two men were slugging it out in a ring that was set up in the middle of the room. Kail viewed this as no different than the gladiator arena, with the exception that these fighters didn’t die. Most of the time.
“This is awful,” Douly whispered to Keiran.
Keiran nodded and sat down. “I agree. They fight terribly.”
Faber was enjoying the contest. This was the kind of activity he could see himself doing. He looked at Tusk and waited for him to return a look of recognition. “You want to go another round?”
