“Never better, Bones,” I reply.
“You sure about that, Cap? We saw you go pretty hard out there. Have you eaten? Or I guess you might not be hungry on account of that beast of yours gulping down plenty of—”
He cuts himself off right as my stomach gives an ominous gurgle. It’s a sound I’m not sure how to interpret, considering the kraken and I don’t share any body parts, particularly not organs.
Even if he ate his way through an entire battalion of the king’s men, it shouldn’t affect me in this form.
My stomach churns and lets out another loud gurgle that I try to stifle by pushing my hand against it.
“You feeling an unreasonable anger at nothing in particular?” Bones continues, dropping down onto his haunches beside me.
He shouldn’t be seeing me like this. I should get up. Iwillget up any moment. I just need to rest my head for a second.
“Not right now, I’m not,” I mutter. “I’m just... I need a moment.”
“Feeling so tired you can barely string a thought together?” Bones asks, still peering at me intently.
I squint up at him. I am, as a matter of fact. Does that mean there’s something wrong with me? Have I caught some raredisease that comes from accidentally ingesting the blood of a few hundred men while I was in my other form?
“You’re hungry,” he continues. “Possible hangry too. Cookie made a stew for dinner. Of course, some people complained because it was stew again. But he threw out a few threats, along with a couple of his sharpest knives, and they shut their faces pretty quick.” He gives a fond smile before rising to stand beside me with his hand out.
I stare at it as though I have no idea what to do with it, or what his gesture means.
He wants me to take it, of course. But why?
And why is my brain so sluggish?
When I fail to reach up, Bones gives a little chuckle as my tentacles reach out of their own accord, gripping the gunwale at the side of the ship to heft me up to standing. I stumble slightly once I’m on my feet and Bones doesn’t say a word as he wraps an arm around my waist.
A large part of me recoils at the unwanted contact. It’s overly familiar behaviour, but I don’t have it in me to argue. Maybe Iamsickening for something. I don’t remember ever feeling like this before. Shaky, as though I can’t quite get my feet under me.
“Is this how Kit feels every time he’s on the ship, do you think?” I mutter to myself.
If it is, I owe him a few apologies and a drink. I can barely stagger in a straight line with the world spinning around me just as if it’s trying to win first place in a dance competition.
“We’ll get some food in you and you’ll be right as rain,” Bones replies. “At least we’re not too far from the kitchen. You’re heavier than you look, and I’ve not seen Torin around to help drag you about. I could ditch you here and get Cookie, but there’s always the chance someone could walk by. I can’t imagine you’re keen on having the rest of the crew see you like this.”
Weakened. Possibly dying from some unknown ailment that comes from the blood of the king’s men.
“You’re right,” I tell him. I can’t have the crew see me like this, not when I’m about to wither away into a husk.
“Don’t let her see me like this,” I say, gripping Bones’ hand as it’s suddenly imperative he understands. Thankfully, he seems to know what I’m saying without me having to embellish any further.
“I would never.”
Good. That’s good.
It seems to take a long time for us to reach the kitchen, where the air is so thick with the scent of food, I lose control of my mouth and am practically drooling over the floor.
“What’s this?” A voice asks. This one doesn’t belong to Bones, but it’s equally familiar. Belonging to a bear of a man, in both appearance and temperament.
“He needs some food in him,” Bones replies.
The next thing I know, I’m landing heavily on a wooden bench and there’s a massive plate of stew in front of me. My insides give another noisy protest that I can’t even begin to disguise with a cough as I stare down at the steam coming off the bowl of chopped vegetables and dark meat.
“Eat,” Cookie says. “You must be half-starved. It’s got to be two days since your last meal.”
Two. Days.
