I’d never before described anyone as ‘punchable’ before. Not with any seriousness, anyway. But that’s what this man's was. His skin was pale and almost waxy, not a single blemish to be seen. His eyes were big and emerald green, his teeth white like ivory in perfect, even rows. His blond hair was slicked back pompadour style, and he wore a jean jacket over a T-Shirt that said, ‘FBI (Federal Breast Inspector)’

Even the way he carried himself, as if he was constantly relaxed and leaning against something, even when he was standing straight, was infuriating. He literally had a toothpick hanging from his mouth. I hadn’t known anyone actually did that in real life.

One of his hands was in the pocket of his jeans, and the other was fondling the handle of a pistol strapped to a holster at his waist.

“You unhook that gun of yours in here, Liam, and I’ll tear the head from your shoulders and put it on a spike in the port to scare away other boats full of idiots. You know the rules.” Racecar said, and if I had thought her expression sharp enough to cut metal before, it could now cut straight through a layer of steel and several inches of floor beneath it.

“Wow!” Liam laughed, “Scary!” But he still took his hand off his gun, and sauntered over to the bar where he sat down next to me. He looked at me, and tilted his head, showing me his white teeth in what I was slowly becoming sure wasn’t a smile, but some sort of toothy white weapon intended to unsettle anyone and everyone that had to look at his face for too long.

“You’re Sam Bless.” He said, “You wanna hitch a ride back to Caligon with us? We’ll play nice. We’ve got a good ship. Had a hot tub installed recently. You could ride back in style before you get put in the slammer or executed or whatever by the Caligonian government instead of running scared till that inevitably happens anyway.”

“I assume you’re joking.” I said,

“No way! I mean, I don’t really expect you to take me up on my offer, but if you did you could totally use the hot tub if you wanted! My name is Liam Cawl, by the way. Sailor of the seas, master of the ocean. That’s me.”

“The master of the ocean is resorting to bounty hunting now?” Melody asked,

“Why, my dearest Melody!” Laim said. He put a hand on his face and his mouth opened into a big, mock surprise O. “I didn’t see you there! Which is surprising as Sam here’s quite skinny and you’re… you know… not.” He said, turning his toothy weapon of mass irritation towards Melody, who had gone ever so slightly redder than she already had been.

“Wow. How original.” She said. Her posture became straighter, less relaxed. She took another long, deep drink from her beer. She’d forgotten Racecar had spat in it, apparently.

“I’m not bright enough to make up any clever insults.” He said lazily, “I just point out the obvious. And you are very obvious.”

I was, honestly, not even aware that I was going to do it. I just suddenly had his stupid jean jeacket in both my hands, felt the satisfying, anger fueled twisting, tensing of muscle, and Liam was on the ground.

“Sam!” Melody said, the drunk shocked out of her..

“Sam.” Racecar said, her voice soft like silk over a razor. “You back off right now or you’re out of here. I don’t allow violence in my building. That’s a rule I don’t bend on. I’ll let it slide because you didn’t exactly hit him, but if you throw a punch you’re done.”

I looked down at Laim who was still smiling, his eyebrows raised, eyes narrowed as if to say ‘I’m a stinker, ain’t I?’. My anger had burned bright and hot, but was now suddenly and completely extinguished.

“It’s what he wants.” Melody said,

“Yes. I figured that out as soon as Racecar told me I’d be removed from the premises.”

“Wow. You must be in love!” Liam said, picking himself up off the ground. His smile never wavered. “That was just my opening salvo. I guess there’s someone for everyone. This proves it!”

But now that I knew what he was trying to do I just sighed, and turned back to the bar.

“That was stupid of me. I can’t believe an idiot like this almost tricked me.” I said to Racecar and Melody.

“You didn’t know the rules.” Melody said,

“But he was baiting us. That should have been obvious. Whatever he was trying to do, I should have made sure he didn’t get it.”

Racecar shrugged,

“Well. It didn’t work.”

“Alas!” Liam laughed, dusting himself off. “I’ll get you yet!” He took another step towards me. “Really. I will. You must have done something reaaaal bad. Your bounty was nice yesterday, but today?” He whistled low. “I need me that green.” He clapped his hands together, showed his teeth to all of us and said, “Anyway. I’ll catch you later. You’re fat, Melody. Your husband is dead and Racecar is a stupid name, Mrs. Cumulonimbus, and you can’t use the hot tub when we catch you, Sam.”

And he left, every indication that he was still in an insufferably good mood despite his faliure.

I let loose a pent up breath. The ashes of my anger were rekindling into fear. Bounty hunters.

“He’s going to come after me. Can’t he just call the guard?”

“No. he won’t. Nobody makes Adler’s Grave do anything, and they make it a bit of a policy not to mess with foreign criminals unless they start messing up stuff here. Half of the travelers here would need to be arrested if they started grabbing people because they did something wrong on the Mainland. Everybody knows extradition isn’t in Adler’s Graves dictionary” Melody said, “Besides, Liam can’t touch you in here, and as soon as Quiver shows up, there’s nothing he can do even after you leave. Liam isn’t above fighting, but not against the whole crew of the Beffudled and not here. Not in Adler’s Grave. Even if he could grab you and go, he’d lose the port since he’d be fucking with the law on the second floor by kidnapping someone in broad daylight, which the Guardia do actually give a shit about. Liam won’t risk it.”

“Depends on the bounty, I’d guess.” Racecar said, "Don't underestimate him, Melody. He's an asshole but you and I both know idiots don't last long on the ocean, and he's been out here for a long time."

“There shouldn’t have been a bounty on me at all.” I started to say.

“I don’t care.” Racecar said, holding up a hand. “Really, I don’t. Innocent, guilty, whatever. Laws don’t mean much to me. You don’t cause trouble here I don’t care. First Mate wouldn’t take on a monster, and you’re a decent enough fellow to stand up for Melody. I really would have had to kick you out if you’d hit him, but I think I’d have trusted you less if you just sat there.”

“Hit that sweet spot.” I grunted.

“Don’t worry about it, Sam.” Melody said. She had definitely forgotten that Racecar had spat in her drink, because her cup was completely empty. “I’ll buy your drinks all night. Then we head out in the morning. I appreciate you standing up for me. I guess even racists have their good points.”

“I’m not a---”

“Yea, yea. You’re not a bad guy.” Melody said, laughing, “But you are a racist though. Out of ignorance, I think, which isn’t as bad as it could be.”

“I’ll have the most expensive glass of whatever you’ve got.” I told Racecar.

“Works for me.”

“Never mind. I take it back. You’re a douche, Sam.” Melody said,

Over the next four hours everyone except Hawthorn and Selimy trickled into Racecar’s emporium, as I’d begun calling it, since it didn’t have a name or set business parameter’s. It was surprising, seeing Quiver open the door with their tendrils and sliding inside. A few of the other patrons looked up, and there were a few raised eyebrows, but no one paid them much mind beyond that.

I was probably the one that stared the most. It was just… strange… seeing them in a public place. I’d assumed they would want to stay secret, hidden. But apparently that only mattered on the mainland.

I was surprised, though perhaps I shouldn’t have been, at the almost hostile glance that I received from Lucas, and the quiet, intense stare I received from Thatch’s impassive face. But a drunken Melody, deeper still into her cups, told the story of my apparently ‘epic confrontation’ with Liam.

Alcohol had embellished things to the point where it had little to nothing to do with what had actually happened, beyond the fact of my confronting Liam. I had certainly not spat in anyone's face, and I’m pretty sure Liam hadn’t run away crying. But despite the overblown story, Lucas’ expression cooled.

Thatch sat down next to me and put a hand on my shoulder.

“This crew is a family, Sam.” He said, “Threaten it and you earn everyone's ire. Defend it and you’ll earn their love.” He paused. “Or, well, they’ll like you more at least.” Then he took out a ball of yarn and began knitting what looked like a sock.

“That was either very deep or very shallow.” I said, “I’m not sure which.”

“Let’s assume deep, shall we? First Mate said, putting a hand on my shoulder. I tensed, wanting to shrug her hand away but didn’t. She noticed anyway, and removed it. I wasn’t really in the mood for touching or friendship. “Give our friend Thatch the benefit of the doubt if you aren’t sure.”

She held up the ring.

“No magic. Not that Lucas’ scanners could detect. No tech, either.”

I almost snatched it out of her hands, but managed to restrain myself. Maybe it was the hydra, maybe it was being killed or shot, but I felt like a jangle of nerves. I’d been keeping them together but Liam had jangled some loose.

I plucked the ring from her hands with two fingers, and then reached up under my shirt and replaced it in its meat pouch, before sealing the skin over it again.

“Well? What were you expecting? I told you it was personal.”

“Had to check. But if this isn’t it then we need to figure out what’s going on.”

“I don’t really care. You said it yourself. After the, what? The Sea of Tongues? No one will be able to follow us. After that I just care about the Necropolis Isles. If I make it past that I’ll figure out what to do. It won’t really be your problem anymore, will it?”

First Mate looked pained,

“Sam. I know we’re not exactly best friends, but I’m not the kind of person that just leaves people like that. Not unless its absolutely necessary. You’re on the crew with us, for now. We’ll help you if we can.”

“You don’t need to do anything more for me than your job. I’ll be fine. Or not. Figuring out why they want me dead isn’t going to help me achieve my goal, now will it? I made a promise and I’ll keep it even if it kills me.”

First Mate exhaled slowly.

“Alright, Sam.” She said, “Thanks for sticking up for Melody. You’ve got a good heart under all the asshole, I think.”

“Thanks for calling me an asshole.” I said. Is that what they called a compliment around here?

“You know what I mean.”

“I think that's the problem.”

First Mate rolled her eyes.

“Alright. Well. I’ll just leave you alone, then. Good luck with your single minded suicide mission, Mr. Super Spy. We’re all impressed.”

The usual suspects, Melody, Elma and Lucas, were drunk practically before Racecar finished pouring their drinks. I made an excuse to head up to the rooms that had been rented for us, only to find that it was a single room with two double beds, and that I’d be sharing it with those self same drunkards. First Mate was going to share with Thatch, and Quiver was going to stay awake and prowl the halls, just in case. They preferred to sleep during the day, anyway, Elma had assured me.

I’d claimed a bed and spread out in a foolish attempt to stake a claim on the entire thing. I’d had a few beers myself and perhaps I’d hoped someone would get the message and sleep on the floor. Naturally, both Lucas and Elma collapsed into the bed on either side of me, laughing, while Melody fell asleep spread out on the other bed. I had a strong suspicion that they’d been put in this room as protection for me, and another strong suspicion that Lucas and Elma got into bed with me to annoy me.

Lucas, fortunately, slept like a log. Or, more like a stick. Hands to his side at the edge of the bed, taking up no space at all. But Elma was the type of sleeper that moved towards warmth like a missil. I’d had significant others like her. No matter where you moved they followed you, eventually chasing you off the bed in their sleep if you kept moving over.

I almost got up and moved. Slept in the other bed, or the bathtub. But I wasn’t a racist. I wasn’t going to move just because Elma was waterfolk. And cramped living conditions were par for the course at the Chapter Houses back in Caligon.

Honestly, Elma was just another person, wasn’t she? A person with abnormal reserves of strength, shark teeth and gills, but a person. Trapped in between the sleeping form of Lucas, Elma wriggled next to me, and I tried not to imagine her sharp teeth so close to my spine and the back of my neck.

She had, of course, saved my life. It wasn’t as if she’d try to kill me now. I realized, with a sinking heart, that the whole crew was trying to protect me. Strange as they were, it struck me powerfully then, trapped trying to sleep in between the tattooed magician and the aquatic cannibal, that they were a decent band of people and I wasn’t quite reciprocating their kindness.

It didn’t change anything, naturally. I had something to do, and I would do it. But it did make my previous imaginings of Elma tearing into the back of my neck with her teeth a little silly. I’d known dozens, maybe hundreds of people more likely to hurt me than her. I was not and had never been a racist, but I could see how people might have taken issue to statements made if they knew Elma on a personal level.

That didn’t, however, make it any easier to sleep.

With my intolerant thoughts reconciled, it meant an extremely attractive and… buxom... individual was pressed very closely to my back nearly snuggling with me. Normally this wouldn’t have been a problem, I was an adult. More, a member of the Sacred Trust. I had control of my emotions and impulses.

But it had been quite some time since I’d had any kind of carnal relationship. My work with the Trust and their more covert activities had made my relationships fleeting, and eventually cease altogether. Quite aside from that, the day's events made me miss Davis. We’d never been together, but a first crush is a first crush, and that had been him.

I listened to the consistent step-step-step-drag of Quiver pacing the hallways outside until I had distanced my mind enough from my body enough to sleep.