Chapter 26

Corpse for a Figurehead.

GloomGlower

“Try harder!” I said.

“Filtch is trying as hard as Filtch can try, King GloomGlower! If the ship would stop swaying for one moment then-”

“Stab it,” I said. “Stab it!”

“I’m stabbin!” Filtch said. “It doesn’t want to be stabbed!”

“Aww, forget it,” I said and pushed the small goblin off my step stool. The floorboards pitched beneath my feet. The ship rolled and I went tumbling right into Filtch. Water seeped in from the gaps in the ship walls. For a moment we were a tangled ball of goblin limbs, trying to exhume ourselves from the corner of the sloped floor. Only when the ship rolled back was I able to get back on my feet again. Goblins rushed in, buckets in hand to collect and bail water.

“Is King GloomGlower ok?” One of my guards asked.

“Yes, yea,” I said. “Of course I’m-”

The ship took a massive impact from the hull of another ship. Once more we went flying. This time I fell straight onto my back. I screamed in torture even before landing flat on my back because I knew it was going to hurt. I landed right on the deviled spot!

“GloomGlower!” Filtch said and scrambled to roll me over.

Thank FourFingers for Filtch, because the pain I was in had paralyzed me.

“You landed right on that nasty, nasty pimple. Didn’t you GloomGlower?” Filtch said.

“Yes,” I wheezed, and then flailed until I was pulled up to my feet once more.

“I stabbed it; hard as I could,” Filtch said.

“I know, I know,” I said, trying to distract myself from the pain. “Who hit us? Why did someone hit us? What do they want? Why can’t we raise the green flag when someone wants to talk to me? Who’s the captain that bashed into my ship?”

There was a commotion on deck. A good one. Must be one of the captains the goblins looked up to. Captain FlyBooger. I heaved a sigh. FlyBooger Again. Back with another boring report.

“Let’s make our way up,” I said. “Get BarnacleEyes to see if she can give a try at popping it, will you? She has those things… Oh, and make sure none of the rotting figureheads got knocked off my ship.”

“Yes, GloomGlower,” Filtch said. Then he started off, tripping over his own feet and smacking his head straight into the door jamb. He paused for a moment in disbelief before letting out a long pained whine.

“On your feet!” I said. “Move it! Move it! Let’s go!”

Filtch led the way with my six lesser guard goblins in tow. Everytime I walked, the spot on my back pinched me. Right on the spine.

“I’m going to have to shoot that pimple with a harpoon,” I muttered.

Not that I would recklessly use one of our prized harpoons in that manner. Those harpoons were hard to get our hands on. Expensive in money. Expensive in labor. Deadly in combat.

I waded through goblins a third of my size. Hundreds of bailers, bailing water out, keeping this ship afloat. They were hard not to step on every once in a while, but how else was I going to get through?

I hadn’t been on deck in a week. It was a nice surprise to come up and see a little bit of sun. It was almost evening and I preferred it that way. FlyBooger knew better than to meet with me before sundown. I hated full sun.

“King GloomGlower,” came FlyBooger’s charming voice, through the sea of goblins on deck.

“FlyBooger,” I said, parting through goblins until I found him. “Let’s talk in the deckhouse. Filtch! Where’s Filtch!”

“Right here GloomGlower.”

“Oh. There you are. Yes. Well?”

“Well what?”

“Where is BarnacleEyes?”

“Oh yes! Right GloomGlower! Right away!”

Filtch organized a few goblins to form a green ladder. One goblin hopped on the shoulders of another and locked his ankles around the bottom one's neck. Then another goblin climbed atop that one and repeated the action to form another rung. Filtch climbed to the top and heaved in a deep breath.

“BARNACLEEYES!” He screamed.

A goblin with long hair tied back leapt up out of the crowd and waved. I could see her scar from here, so I knew she was the one that had what I needed.

“Good Filtch,” I said. “Have her meet me in the deckhouse.”

FlyBooger had already made his way inside. When I entered, he was taking a deep breath and settling himself down in one of the couches. StubToes shuffled over from the bar, handing FlyBooger a cup of grounds. Chunky coffee bits in water. I could do with one myself, and I said so. StubToes had another one prepared and all it was missing was beer. The good goblin was one step ahead, as always. He poured my cup of grounds into a nice tankard of goblin beer.

“Beer and grounds, GloomGlower,” StubToes offered me.

“Of course. Of course,” I said, taking the hefty tankard from my favorite goblin.

“I’d like one too,” FlyBooger said, shoving his cup back into StubToes hands. “Why don’t you ever offer me a beer and grounds like GloomGlower?”

StubToes paused and looked at his feet.

“Don’t think too hard, StubToes,” I said. “Just give FlyBooger exactly what you gave me.”

The deckhouse door opened and a one-eyed goblin popped her head in.

“BarnacleEyes!” I said. “Come on in. I need your help. I’ve got this… this thing on my back and Filtch and the others can’t solve it. Do you have those pliers? Do you mind?”

“I’ve got them, yes, GloomGlower. These ones?”

She tightly gripped the only pair of pliers on my fleet. They were hers by right after she looted some human fisherman we ran into once.

“Glad to see you still have them,” I said. “You’re holding onto them tight as ever. I’m surprised they haven’t been stolen from you yet.”

“I’ve got the scar to prove I deserve it,” she said. “An eye for these pliers wasn’t a bad deal, you know?”

“I know,” I said. “Hop on my back and see if you can pop this thing. FlyBooger and I are going to have a chat while you work at it.”

“Yes, GloomGlower.”

BarnacleEyes hopped onto my back after I struggled out of my coat, vest, tunic, and shirt. I heard her click the pliers a couple times.

“Wow!” she said. “That’s a nasty one! How’d it get so big?”

“That’s why I need you,” I said. “Nevermind how it got like that. Put those pliers to use!”

“I’m going to have to really go at it,” she said. “It’s going to hurt.”

“It’s been hurting. If hurting it some more is gonna make it stop hurting, then hit me with all you’ve got.”

The moment I felt the pliers pinch me, I screamed in agony. She twisted. She pulled. She snapped them together for minutes on end. I had no control of my face. My eyes bugged. My mouth shot open and I stared, screaming in pain at FlyBooger as he squirmed in his seat, unable to tear himself away from the sight of my torture.

“Uh-uhm, well, I’ll make this quick,” FlyBooger said. “We were attacked by a monster fish-bear. He destroyed almost ten hands of goblins. Took out a captain too.”

“A captain too?” I said between two lilting screams. “Fish-bear?”

BarnacleEyes grunted, then shifted her whole body to torque a twist. My skin strained like creaking leather and FlyBooger squirmed some more in his seat, nearly spilling his beer and grounds.

“He stole one of our ships and forced all the goblins to jump ship,” FlyBooger continued. “Most couldn’t fit aboard the other ships. They drowned. We lost a lot.”

“You’ve come to me to let me know you got the ship back,” I said, putting everything together.

“No, King GloomGlower. The monster sailed the ship into the coast,” FlyBooger said.

“Well at least we recovered the harpoon turret,” I said. “My fleet was built around those weapons. They’re our livelihood. Our pride and joy. I named each one of them, you know?”

BarnacleEyes put her feet on my shoulders, gave a mighty grunt, and pulled. It felt like my soul was being pulled from my body. Sounded like it too. When I looked back at FlyBooger, he’d gone quite pale. Looked sick to me.

“N-n-n-n-no… GloomGlower... We-uh-didn’t recover the harpoon turret.”

BarnacleEyes squeezed. I heard her teeth grinding together and the soles of her feet dig into my back even harder.

“How dare you come to me!” I shouted. “How dare you-” I tried to get up, but BarnacleEyes weighed me down. I was furious, and when I was furious, I felt better on my feet. Now was not the time to sit idly by and watch one of my prized weapons be stolen from me! “BarnacleEyes! You have three seconds to get the job done!”

FlyBooger grew even paler. StubToes tried to blend into his surroundings.

“You better go back, find the ship, secure the harpoon turret, and return it to me!” I shouted. “I don’t care how many ships it takes to get it back! I don’t care how many goblins it takes—BARNACLEEYES YOU BETTER START DOING SOMETHING NOW, OR ELSE!”

At that moment, I heard a pop. A loud pop. I flew forwards. BarnacleEyes flew backwards. I heard her hit the wall of the deckhouse. Then I heard a smacking-loud splat of liquid cover the couch, BarnacleEyes, and the wall. I continued to fly forward, more relieved than I’d ever imagined feeling in my life. It felt like I was floating. For a few seconds before falling flat on my face, I was floating in a brief state of blissful relief. When I hit the floor, I thanked the gods and BarnacleEyes for relieving me of that pimple.

At long last, I looked up at a traumatized FlyBooger.

“If you don’t…” I said, pausing to pant. “If you don’t come back with my harpoon, you’re going to be next year’s figurehead! You’ll be tied upside down on the front of my ship with the rest of them!”