"Eddie! Below deck! Get our so-called treasure," Brigit hollered as soon as she returned topside, her voice did not have its usual control. It was more girlish, more emotional, but that almost made it more frightening than her usual voice. The deep bombastic tone had been melted away by a bitterness on her tongue that dripped off each of her words. Her face contorted to fit around her sneer, but it was half hidden by her hand as she shielded her eyes from the sun. "Rest of you lot! Leave them with a skeleton crew and get our provisions off this damn deathtrap."
"Thought we raised the red flag?" someone from her crew asked, giving a voice to the befuddled crowd of faces.
"I ain't about to kill a bunch of disfigured fuckin' freaks for the sins of the crew they hired— now get to it! Questionin' ain't gettin' you paid!" She flicked her wrist as a dismissal.
There was a faint murmur about what the captain had meant by 'disfigured fuckin' freaks' amongst the crew, but it did not last long. She was right, questions were not going to get them paid, nor fed. The song of a single sword being drawn brought out the rest of the chorus. A rolling sea of metallic shink shink shinks. Any quizzical looks were washed away with the blood the choir then spilled. Any lingering queries were silenced by the cries and pleas.
Brigit, still fuming, stormed off back to her ship. Her hand drifted from a visor to a pinch on the bridge of her nose. She shoved past Eddie and hopped onto the plank that connected the vessels, it nearly appeared to bend under her stomps. Yet, as soon as she was back aboard The Harrowed Maiden her shoulders drooped. She stood the victor, yet her body slumped in defeat.
The large brick house of a man seemed to be the only one not perplexed by the situation. In fact, he seemed to be in his usual daze; Eddie treated everything about his job with the same energy as he would any mundane task— as if plundering were no more different than carpentry. He straightened his back with an audible crack and crossed each arm over his torso as a quick stretch before he ventured to the opened hatch. He had no idea what to expect, but whatever it was his muscles were prepped.
He stepped down from the ladder with a groan, the same one he often made when getting up from a seat. The soft cries and whimpers from the carnies Brigit had insinuated existed made him let out an amused huff— nearly a laugh; they did look rather freakish. His gaze shifted to Nia, who was sitting in front of a cage opposite the carnies. She had been holding her breath until the clunks of Eddie's bootfall startled air back into her lungs.
"We're not supposed to speak to it," she whispered, her fingers were interlocked yet still found a way to fidget, "They really can just… turn into a fish." Her laugh that followed her words was dry and forced. There was a light tremor in her shoulders. The shadows swallowed her so entirely it was impossible to see how much blood had drained from her face.
Eddie took several slow steps towards her until he could peer just past her into the darkness. Sat just outside of the cage was an orange octopus speckled with white dots. Its mantle was less than a foot in length, and its arms were too coiled to see its true size. It was hardly an impressive looking octopus let alone 'treasure'.
"An octopus?" He asked, however it sounded less like a question and more like a prompt.
Nia's dark eyes shifted to Eddie as she started to nod her head. She had to stop part way through the motion to violently shake it instead as if to erase her prior nod. "No. Not just an octopus."
There was a thick silence between the two. Eddie's one good eye stared at the creature with a rare intensity. It seemed to stare back, but with sea life it was hard to tell truly. The sobs of the circus workers finally broke the air's tension, preventing the man from dwelling too long.
"Lord…" Eddie said, his voice was breathy like a whisper without the words being dampened.
Nia said nothing more, she only gave a mechanical nod. She stood up and took a step back from the little creature. Just like Brigit had, she had closed her eyes before she turned away from it and left. Eddie waited until her footsteps had vanished topside before he bent down and slowly gathered the little orange being in his arms. Though he was a very large man his touch was incredibly gentle, he treated the octopus with the same care he would an infant. He bristled at just how moist and slimy the little being was, but his face did not change. The octopus did not struggle nor protest, it simply let it happen. Its arms drooped down limply as it was lifted.
"A mermaid… However did ya get captain to take in, girl?" He asked as he gave the octopus' mantle a gentle pet, mimicking the motion of brushing aside hair.
The octopus did not respond with anything more than a blink.
Eddie let out an amused snort. A smile crept up onto the corner of his chapped, sun scorched lips. "Right. Let's get ya ta ya new home, yeah?"
***
Once back on The Harrowed Maiden, Eddie clumsily locked up each of the octopus' arms in chains and cuffs far too large . It was clear the cephalopod could slide out with ease, but it sat and endured the nonsense. Its limbs drifted and churned as Eddie worked, but it did not seem intentional. Maybe writhing octopus arms were akin to a person tapping their fingers or bouncing their leg when sat bored too long. Once it was less-than-securely locked down Eddie stood up and patted the dust off his knees, causing a considerable amount of particles to drift into the air and in part rain down on the little orange being. Eddie seemed to not notice as he let out a long sigh.
"Aight lass, ain't you do nothin' now," he said with a wag of his finger. His words were a warning, but they were spoken far too softly. The octopus did not respond, so Eddie continued, "Aye. I'll take it ya heard me. I ought to talk ta the captain 'bout all this. Promise someone will be 'round to feed ya." With that, he turned and returned above deck.
The whole crew was murmuring as they sailed away from the ship they broke— which had begun to limp away in the opposite direction. Many tired eyes followed Eddie as he dragged himself towards the wheel. There was a deep curiosity behind every squinted gaze, some chewed their lips to keep themselves from voicing their inquiries. The only crew member who dared approach him was Rat. She hopped away from the oars and snagged a handful of the man's ragged shirt in her fist, stopping him in his tracks.
"Pop!" She didn't even need to ask anything, her big blue eyes did all the grilling for her. She tried to restrain the smile on her face by sinking her teeth into her lower lip as if to anchor her top lip in place. It did not work, it only made her chin look a little too long and her smile too thin and stiff.
"Aye Rat, she's what you think—" Eddie had not finished the sentence before his daughter let out a delighted squeal.
Her poor attempt to hide her absolute agog about the situation melted in an instant. "A mermaid!" She said between manic giggles, her voice bounced with her as she hopped on her toes. Her fingers yanked on her father's shirt as she moved, nearly making him bob with her so she wouldn't tear anything.
Eddie had to slip a finger into Rat's fists to relinquish himself from her grasp. "Aye, Rat. Now calm, ya know how these things can be. She's dangerous." He then placed two hands on the young woman's shoulders, weighing down her bounces to the point she was just vibrating on the spot.
The crew, who had no doubt been wondering the same thing as Rat, began to whisper a little louder between themselves. The only members of the crew whose lips were sealed were the sail master Oliver and Santiago— who was away from the sweeps with Carlos patching up the injured. However, even abstaining from the excitement did not stop their ears from perking and their attention being grabbed. Santiago looked to the captain, who appeared to still be smouldering, and let out an annoyed snort and shook his head. Oliver, however, shifted uneasily on his feet. His gaze did not leave Rat.
"Sure, Pa, but I've never seen a mermaid! I hear they're the most beautiful things alive, and with the most enchanting singing voice," she sang the last two words so abysmally one could mistake the sound for a dying cat's cries.
"Siren's got the singing, not mermaids," Eddie corrected, "And the enchanting bit ain't a good thing."
"He's right, a siren's song is no joke," Oliver budded in with a voice as small as a mouse. He stood stiffly, his hands politely folded in front of him like a timid schoolboy. "And merfolk are even more feared by seamen. You should be cautious."
Rat's excitement melted in an instant. Her lower lip— that was still puffy from being bit before— shot out in an exaggerated pout. "If she wanted to sink ships she would have. Last ship or this one. I think she's a nice mermaid."
Santiago scoffed at the statement, but did not offer anything to the conversation beyond that.
"You haven't met her, Imogen…" Oliver said as delicately as he could.
"It's Rat," Eddie corrected, there was an edge to his usually dull voice.
Immediately, the sail master looked down at the floorboards. His head sank down into his shoulders. "My apologies… You haven't met her, Rat."
"Ain't ya forget your place 'ere, navy boy" Eddie continued.
"Pop, you're gettin' fussed over nothing." Rat's overt and dramatic posturing fell away, but her face remained a little too expressive as she leaned forwards, scrunched her nose, and examined her father's face. After a moment she crossed her arms and said, "You're worried 'bout something. Think I'll make a deal by accident with that mermaid? I won't, so no need to take it out on mister navy boy 'ere. He's one of them posh brits, sure he'd call me 'Miss our-last-name', if he knew it–"
Rat had barely finished her observation when the captain's voice boomed out from her spot at the wheel and shattered the awkward fog that was forming around the group. "Oliver, to the sails! Rat, the sweeps! Back to work! Eddie, to me!"
Oliver scurried back to the sails in a blink, his once stiff limbs unlocked and moved in frantic flailing motions. Rat begrudgingly hauled herself back to the oars, her head and arms hung deliberately limp. Eddie only hesitated to watch Oliver return to his post far away from Rat with the corner of his mouth curled in disdain.
Brigit still hosted a sour expression— her grip on the wheel was so tight her knuckles were white as bone. Though she was an Irish woman, the high sea's sun tanned her skin so much the pale knuckles looked completely unnatural. Nia stood silently beside her with her head bowed. Her face was only visible because most of her frizzy braids were kept at bay by the bandana on her head. There was a tenseness in the air between the two women, something that seemed to distract them from Eddie's arrival despite the fact he had been beckoned over. He had to clear his throat to get the captain to acknowledge him.
"It try anythin'?" Brigit grumbled.
"Captain," Eddie said, "She ain't tried nothin'. Just sat there, really. But she's been secured regardless."
"He," Nia quietly corrected.
Brigit scoffed through clenched teeth. "Aye. Now ain't you two start humanizing it! Nia!"
"Sir."
"Tell the crew not to speak a word to it."
"Aye aye, sir."
"And Eddie, get to the sweeps. Away from Rat, I got a feelin' she's more keen on yappin' than rowin'."
Eddie solemnly nodded regardless . "Aye."
Brigit dismissed Eddie with a hand wave. As soon as he was out of earshot, and only the whistling ocean air accompanied the two women, Nia took a deep, unsteady breath.
"Sir." There was a conviction in her unsteady voice. Her hands balled at her side.
"Mm?" The captain's eyes did not even flick towards her.
"You should probably humanize him more."
Brigit did not answer for several long seconds. The wind around them stilled, the heaviness in the air only got worse. The oar's slashes sounded a million miles away, the creeks of the ship vanished into the background like white noise. They stood without words for so long that when Brigit finally inhaled through a gap in her clenched teeth it startled Nia.
Brigit did not turn to look at Nia as she spoke, in fact she hung her head and let the salty ocean air whip her ginger hair into her face as if to hide from her second in command. Her voice was softer than it had been all day as she said, "I ain't need your advice on the matter. I got Santiago, we'll see his take. He's the expert on their kind. Go on, do what I assigned of you."
Nia's tense face also softened upon hearing Brigit's tone. An understanding tilt tugged at the brows. "Aye."