Daffodil winked into visibility as soon as Caleb closed what remained of the door to his great cabin. She shimmied down from one of the un-damaged rafter beams. Her claws made little taks as she went over to him.

“I looked out the opening where the stern window used to be,” she enthused. “This harbor is amazing, Boruta looks amazing! When are we going to dock there?”

“Not for a bit,” Caleb replied, before going back to sit on his bed. Breena had vanished, off to do whatever she did for the day. “The harbor clerk’s coming, I’ve got to give a talk to the crew, and we’ll be using smaller boats for a while.”

“Oh,” Daffodil said, sounding a little disappointed. Then she brightened again. “But that still means I can come ashore with you! I’ll just hide in a box or something, like I did before.”

“You’ll do no such thing! The last place for someone as valuable as you is a…a town that’s crawling with pirates!”

She let out a cute little snort. “You’re a bunch of pirates, and I’m safe with you!”

“I…look, let’s put a pin in that for right now, all right?’

“What kind of pin?” she asked, puzzled. “And where do you want to put it?”

“It’s a kind of saying from my world. We’ll talk in just a bit. I need to do my finger-pointing-in-the-air thing for a minute, okay?”

“Okay, fine. It’s just that I want to go…” the little dragon let out a huff and slunk away into the shadows. Her golden scaled glimmered for a moment, then vanished as she changed colors to blend in.

Caleb began to add something, but he shook his head. There was no time, he had to focus. He thought for a moment why he’d come in here. Somewhere in his Quest screens, he’d seen a mention of ‘special cargo’ or something similar.

While he could blip around between screens now with a flick of his eyes, using his fingers was still slightly faster. Also, it was easier to see the screen text in low light. So he’d opted for the privacy in his cabin to do his search.

Assuming of course that his little Lir-and-Danu driven interface actually stored past information. When he closed out Quests, it was possible that they were just deleted. But he didn’t think so. Whenever he worked with the system to learn about spells or skills, it definitely acted more like a database.

A few stabs of his finger, and his Quest Window came up. He reached towards the top of the interface’s ghostly glow and ran his index finger down in one smooth motion. As he expected, his past completed Quests scrolled by as smoothly as if he’d been using a mouse or touchscreen monitor.

However, he immediately saw the problem. He’d completed a lot of Quests. The faster he scrolled, the less legible the content.

Lir and Danu modeled this interface after our computer systems back on my world, he thought. So I’m betting there’s a better way to do this.

“Find me the term ‘special cargo’,” he said aloud.

Nothing happened.

He set his jaw. All right, there’s more than one way to manipulate this system. Let’s try something else.

Caleb envisioned putting a deerstalker cap on his head while putting a magnifying glass to one eye. He scrutinized the Quest Window and thought: Search for ‘Special Cargo’.

The screen blurred for a moment. Then it came up with a surprisingly modern set of text lines in response.

Results for ‘Special Cargo’: 0

Results for ‘Special’: 16

Results for ‘Cargo’: 1

Caleb tapped the bottom line. The screen blurred once more, then brought up the entry he was looking for. He recognized it as one of the quests that had popped up after they’d taken the merchant ship bound for Gilarska, the Dromos Bay.

Adventurer’s-Level Quest:

Sell the booty captured from your first merchant ship taken as a prize for a profit. 20% Bonus XP if said booty is on the Specialized Cargo List: STATUS ONGOING.

Once again, he noted that the Specialized Cargo List was highlighted text. It was the kind of text where clicking it would reveal more content. He’d completely forgotten about it, as Lord High Captain Delacroix had shown up with his frigate, ready to burn them down to the waterline.

Better late than never, Caleb thought, as he touched the words and got a new screen to pop up in response.

Specialized Cargo List: These are a list of items that either require unique treatment due to the following conditions.

a) Spoilage

b) Hazard

c) Rarity

d) Banned Goods

Intrigued, Caleb clicked each in turn and read the entries.

Spoilage refers to goods that go bad quickly, reducing or eliminating their value. Examples: Freshly caught game/fish, certain fruits, pipeweed, magical artifacts with a time limit to their potency.

Hazard refers to goods that come with some natural/supernatural risk. Examples: Large quantities of liquid oils or alcohols, some types of explosives, or items carrying curse magic.

Rarity refers to goods that are encountered extremely uncommonly, thus causing a high risk of theft if not secured properly. Examples: Gemstones, alloys of gold/platinum, incense, ivory, dyes, holy relics, and powerful magical items.

Banned goods vary between ports. However, the following goods are normally banned from being traded in most ports: Enhanced pipeweed, sentient magical creatures, slaves of any species, artifacts made from human flesh/bone, items of substantial dark or death-related magic.

His eyes immediately went to the mention of dyes under the Rarity section. When they’d plundered the Dromos Bay, Sienna had reported in just before the Stone Angel had shown up.

We’ve brought over more than one hundred cakes of powdered indigo dye. We find the right port, and that’ll be worth a good sum of gold.

Caleb considered.

Perhaps it’s my old habits from my Caseteja White days speaking. But I’d rather reveal what cargo I’m carrying when I’m damn well ready, not when some port official wants to see it. Even at a pirate’s haven.

A plan came to mind. He looked around for Daffodil, but she’d made herself scarce. He made his way outside and then down to the main deck. The space was crowded as the crew sat on the planks proper or leaned up against the rails.

“Captain on deck!” Donal called down from the helm.

At that, the men and women quieted down and paid attention. Caleb thought briefly about using his Corsair specialty, Charisma Boost, but decided against it. He didn’t like having to lean on that power when addressing his shipmates.

“I’ve called you up here for a couple reasons,” Caleb said, raising his voice enough to be heard clearly. “First up, for congratulations. We’re free of Myrkur waters, we survived the Swallower of Ships, and with luck, that’s the last we’ll see of either!”

A hearty hurrah! came from the crew at that.

“Second, we’re also going to be doing a cash-out,” he continued, though he had to pause at a new outbreak of cheers. “But there are some things you need to be aware of. We won’t be going into port directly. Instead, we’ll be shuttling crew members back and forth via the longboat and any other boats we can hire, at least for now.”

One of the Roshannon, a quiet man he recognized as Charlie Inver, one of Decklan Patrick’s friends, put a hand up at that.

“Beg pardon Captain, but why not? We need repairs, and we all want to get our shares spent!”

Some more ribald comments followed.

Aye, the silver’s burnin’ in my pockets!

Lir my witness, I want stronger drink to drench my throat!

An’ I want to get other parts of my body wet, if’n you follow me!

“Settle down, settle down,” Sienna said sternly. “The Captain’s not done speaking.”

“We’re not going in for a few reasons,” Caleb announced. “To start, Boruta charges for time at the quay by the hour. More spent on fees means less for all of you. Next up, we’ve got more than silver on our hands. Once we negotiate for the sale of the cargo we’ve looted, we’ll have a lot more to share. On that note, we’ve got a harbor clerk coming aboard. Keep your lips sealed around her.”

A general murmur of agreement rumbled through the crew on that one.

“Most importantly, I need to remind you that we’re in a harbor full of fellow pirates. If we don’t have at least some of us on board, armed and sober, how long do you think we’ll remain untouched?”

Another murmur of agreement rumbled through the crew on that one.

“Right, so no more worries,” Sienna put in. “As quartermaster, I’ll be makin’ sure that everyone gets time ashore to spend what’s in their pockets.”

“That brings me to my next point,” Caleb said. “When we initially divided the shares, we left one party out: our best girl, the Spitfire herself. From now on, at least one share needs to be allocated from the spoils for re-stocking, re-fitting, and repairs.”

Another crew member, a woman this time, piped up.

“What about this time, Captain?”

“As Captain, it was my responsibility to think of the ship. I did not, so for this once, I shall surrender one of my three shares to our beautiful sloop.”

Nods and cheers ran through the crew. That was good, Caleb figured, as they wouldn’t all like what came next.

“Everyone on board this crew is entitled to a share of the treasure aboard,” he continued. “But those who joined us from the Damsel or on Matagorda came on after much of the fighting took place, and after the loot was taken.”

The crowd went silent at that. Some of the easy smiles had disappeared.

“Those who have shed blood in service of this ship shall retain full shares,” Caleb went on, and two-thirds of the crew smiled anew. “However, I want everyone on board to partake in at least some of the delights of Boruta. Therefore, everyone who came on board at Matagorda shall receive one-half a share for now, and a full share thereafter.”

To Caleb’s surprise, he still got a few muted cheers on that one. Owen Garrett and a couple other of the Arrenmar taken off Matagorda just nodded, as if expecting the outcome. Sienna spoke up again, and her announcement only got a smattering of grumbles in return.

“Don’t count your full shares just yet!” she reminded them. “The officers of this crew have decided that they’re tired of seeing bare feet and barer backsides! So we’ll be buying clothes and shoes for the lot of you, and it’ll come out of your silver. Everyone who’d not on deck shift, I want you lined up on the berthing deck below. Noack Miley and his linemakers are going to be measuring all of you lot for top wear, bottom wear, and foot wear!”

“What about Grimshaw and Miss Morningstar?” Ronan Murray asked, with a laugh. “They don’t wear a stitch, do they have to contribute to the ‘shirt and shoe fund’ too?”

“We shall be pitching in,” Tavia said primly. “For the good of the crew.”

“And as far as them wearing anything,” Caleb put in, “Once any of you look as noble as a unicorn paladin or as fierce as a griffin drake, I’ll release you from the need to wear so much as a pocket handkerchief!”

That got a roar out of the assembled men and women. Tavia chuckled, and Shaw pounded his forepaw against the deck in laughter.

“Crew dismissed!” Caleb shouted, and the vast majority of the crew headed below as per Sienna’s orders.

“T’was a good note to leave them on,” Shaw rumbled in Caleb’s ear.

“Lir as my witness, I agree,” Sienna added. “Like a nip of grog to warm the heart after some cold news.”

Donal called down to them from the quarterdeck. “Jolly boat pullin’ up to the steerboard side, Captain!”

“Let’s haul them up,” Caleb said. “Everyone, just follow my lead.”

Sienna called over a team from the deck crew. In no time, they’d thrown a rope ladder over the side. A spry older woman sporting a mop of silver-white hair and a patch over one eye climbed aboard. Compared to the ostentatious Harbormaster Finnobarr on Matagorda, she dressed plainly, though she had a cutlass and two pistols strapped to her side.

Interesting, Caleb thought. Technically, she’s first pirate I’ve met who’s actually wearing an eyepatch.

“Welcome aboard the Spitfire,” he said aloud. “I am Captain Ledger, and we’re pleased to host a representative of the Borutan brethren–”

“Please, cut all your nonsense to the quick,” the harbor clerk snapped. “The name’s Mya Ullathorne, and you’re not here to host the likes of me. You’re here for repairs from your fight with the Myrkur and passin’ the Swallower of Ships. We should be palavering at the dock, not out here.”

Caleb blinked. “How did you–”

“You came from the south, which means you came through waters belongin’ to the murderous maelstrom and the Myrkur. You’re sailin’ a sloop built along Myrkur lines, and the death cult don’t willingly part with their vessels. Aye, to top off the hold, you’ve got damage from chain shot in your sails, the Captain’s cabin is shot through, and you’re down a foot at the bow.”

“She’s observant, this one,” Sienna murmured.

“Indeed, we’re in need of repairs,” Caleb said carefully, aware that the older woman continued to scrutinize him carefully. “We just need to see to, ah, our security.”

“Oh, sod off with the excuses! Everyone knows you came from the south, so you’ve got blood on your swords and gun-stones in your man sacks.” Ullathorne pointed to the drake and the mare, who sat nearby. “You’ve also got two beasties here who look like they could cut up any boarders into mince.”

“It’s why we call him the Master of Monsters,” Sienna said, with no small bit of pride.

Shaw growled, helping to add some weight to the boast.

“Grrr,” Tavia added in a deadpan voice. “I am so very dangerous.”

“Point is,” Ullathorne said to Caleb, “you’ll get a cut rate at the dock up ahead, and no one’s going to tarry-a-mite with your ship, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Good to know,” Caleb replied. “Now, we have some hot food on offer, if you’re at all interested.”

Ullathorne tapped one foot in impatient irritation.

“Does it look like I’m wantin’ scraps from your table, ‘Master of Monsters’? Do you think I want hospitality or to crawl through your cargo deck when you can cross my palm with gold? Welcome to Boruta, Captain Ledger. We’re pirates, we can be fair-minded when wished, but most of all, we deal in coin.”

Caleb smiled and thought to himself: Just as I thought. Good. What I have in mind should work.

“Every pirate can pay in coin,” he said with a shrug. “It’s common. Base, in fact. I think a woman like you would want something special instead.”

As he spoke, Caleb moved to Shaw’s side. He gave the griffin a questioning look. The drake nodded brusquely in the affirmative.

“I’m listening,” the harbor clerk said.

Caleb patted Shaw’s furry side. The drake half-unfurled his wings.

“How many pirates can say that they’ve ridden a griffin?” he asked. “How many have flown higher than the mainmast of any ship?”

Ullathorne’s eyes lit up.