Children Of The Sky (The Scripts Of Neptune, Book 2)

Chapter 12

"Do I look all right?"

Jack glanced up from his bowl of grits and forgot to chew for a second when his eyes landed on Crynia. Natalee had helped her cut her dark hair so it fell just past her chin, and Crynia had tied half of it back from her face to keep it out of her way. She'd put on the long skirt and brown tunic Mareen had picked up for her in the market, and though they still fit loosely, they looked far better than the baggy clothes she'd had on that morning. She really looked like a girl rather than a starved wraith, and it took Jack a moment to shake the surprise and reply.

"Yeah," he said with a faint smile. "Yeah, you do." Using his spoon, he pointed over his shoulder at the pot on the stove, where Natalee had cooked breakfast long before the faint light of early dawn that seeped through the window panes now appeared. "Grab a bowl. Salt's on the table."

They were both quiet over breakfast. Natalee could be heard moving around in the empty bedrooms, and twice she came through with an armful of laundry. Jack ate slowly, distracted by his thoughts, mulling over how he was going to handle the situation with her father. The night had given him some time to think about what he'd observed; Karlon had been alone. There had been no evidence of a woman's presence in the basement of the theater; there'd been a bed and crude wardrobe, but they were both small, meant for one. Either he was divorced, or...

A familiar, sharp pain blossomed between Jack's ribs, and he hissed in a breath reflexively and nearly bit his tongue off when it reached its peak. Crynia set her spoon down, eyebrows drawing low, and moved to get up.

Jack stopped her with a raised hand. "I'm all right," he said through his teeth, eyes shut. Grief was sharp but quick, lingering only a moment, though he still didn't understand why when grief itself often followed you your whole life, slow and aching. "I moved funny and bumped my wound."

A lie. It sounded unconvincing to his ears; he didn't tell them often.

"Sorry," Crynia murmured, reclaiming her seat and hesitantly picking up her spoon again.

Jack swore at himself in his head and stuffed a bite of grits in his mouth as an excuse to not say anything as he waited out the pain and sighed quietly through his nose. Twenty years old and the most successful thief in the realm, and he still couldn't talk to people properly without being awkward half the time.

Clearing her throat, Crynia moved her grits around with her spoon, glancing up hesitantly. "How's your wound today?" Her cheeks turned rosy a second after she spoke, and he raised an eyebrow as she glued her eyes to her bowl again. "Other than hitting it just now, I mean."

Jack laughed when she cleared her throat again, leaning back in his chair. "Gods, we're both bad at this talking thing, aren't we?"

Glancing up sheepishly, she gave him a ghost of a smile. "Haven't had much practice in a while."

Jack snorted and scooped up another bite of grits, pausing to speak before putting it in his mouth. "I'm without excuse. I work with people for a living, and I'm still awkward."

Crynia raised an eyebrow at that. "What do you do? You certainly aren't a typical pirate. You said that yourself. And with your gift..."

His spoon clinked softly on the wooden table when he set it down, staring at it before saying anything, hesitating a moment more even then. "I...help people. This world has a lot of good men in jail for crimes that're really their government's fault. Unpaid tax debts, theft of food, even manslaughter, sometimes. I take who I can and make them part of my crew long enough to get them back on their feet, and they retire with their families to find work in places like this." Gesturing around the room, Jack picked his spoon back up. "Mareen was my first mate for five or so months a while back. He's a better man than most I pick up, and that's hard to do."