As Bonnie rose halfway from her chair to dole out portions of stew from the earthenware tureen, Cali took in the rest of the captain’s quarters. She’d been so distracted by the walls of books that she’d barely registered the sumptuous fabrics and colorful cushions covering the bed. A brass looking-glass squatted in front of a porthole, and a wall that wasn’t swathed in bookshelves was fronted by a sizable mahogany desk. Behind the desk, which was scattered with papers and opened books, hung an ornate map of the seas that Cali had never seen before. She’d never known of any waters beyond the ones buffeting The Known Lands, but this map showed waters that stretched farbeyond even the tallest tales. When she spotted the sea monster drawn on the edge of the map, her breath caught in her throat.
When she looked up, Bonnie was leaning over the table, the ladle hovering over the tureen of stew, watching her.
Cali motioned to the map and the spiky sea serpent drawn half in and half out of the water. “These aren’t real, are they? It’s just to decorate the map, right?”
Bonnie tilted her head and lifted one shoulder. “Sea monsters?”
Thrain’s spoon clattered in his bowl, sending droplets of brown stew splattering across his beard and the table.
The captain barely contained her wicked grin as the dwarf spluttered and wiped his face. “I suppose we’ll find out.”
Fifteen
Bonnie handeda bowl of stew to Cali. “Not that we should encounter any monsters of significant size between here and Claw Island.”
Cali turned from the map and took the steaming bowl from the captain’s hand. The quivering smile left her in some doubt as to whether the pirate was still teasing or not.
“Significant size?” Thrain asked, clearly not impressed by the mention of monsters of any variety. “What’s significant size when it comes to beasts in the sea?”
The pirate captain placed a full bowl at her place and lowered herself into her tall chair, leaning back and curling her hands around the carved wooden armrests. “Don’t fret. Nothing can match The Cruel Mistress.”
Thrain’s shoulders sagged, and his pinched brow smoothed as he heaved out a breath. “Aye, that’s good to hear.” He swept his gaze around the captain’s quarters. “She seems like a solid ship, even if she looks like no ship I’ve ever seen.”
Bonnie’s smile was languid, even as her brows rose. “You won’t find another ship like this, that’s for sure.”
Cali took her seat, setting her stew in front of her as the hot liquid swayed from one lip of the bowl to the other and matched the rocking of the hull. “Was she always so colorful, or did you paint her?”
Bonnie picked up her spoon and swirled it in her stew. “She’s been like this as long as Bonnie One-Eye has been at the helm.”
Cali nodded, trying not to dwell on the captain suddenly referring to herself in the third person.
Thrain scooped a spoonful of stew into his mouth, mumbling and sucking in air before swallowing. “Grognick’s beard, that’s hot!”
He reached for the breadbasket and snatched a brown-topped roll, which he bobbled between his hands before dropping it on the table accompanied by more dwarf curses. Finally, he grabbed his pewter tankard and glugged the contents so fast drops dribbled down the sides of his beard. When he thunked it back on the table, he blinked a few times. “That’s not ale.”
Bonnie lifted her own glass in salute. “Rum. It can be used medicinally as well.” She laughed at Thrain. “And usually lasts longer.”
While Thrain recovered from the scorching food and the potent rum, Cali picked up her spoon and examined the intricate handle carved with a skull and crossbones. The captain’s silverware seemed fitting for a notorious pirate, but it didn’t match the gaily colored ship. Neither did the extensive library fit her image of a ruthless pirate, although she was beginning to see that Bonnie was more complicated than she’d expected.
The pantheri followed Bonnie’s lead, rhythmically stirring her stew to release the heat before daring a taste, while Thrain still fanned his mouth and puffed out loud breaths. “Tell me more about how you came to captain The Cruel Mistress.”
A series of emotions flickered across the pirate’s face before her expression finally settled on wry amusement. Before she could open her mouth, the door flew wide and her quartermaster strode into the room.
“Sorry I’m late, Cap.” Gert’s braid swung behind her as she crossed the room and hoisted a leg over the one empty chair.
Cali was certain the captain seemed relieved to be interrupted, although she couldn’t imagine why. The lore surrounding Bonnie One-Eye and The Cruel Mistress wasn’t a secret. According to Sass, it fell squarely into the category of legendary. Not that all legends were as dramatic as the tales. Cali knew that firsthand, as she and her crew had gone up against plenty of legendary mages and curses—and even one wraith army—that weren’t as impossible to defeat as the tales would have you believe.
Maybe that was the case with Bonnie. Maybe the stories of the pirate’s exploits had outgrown the reality. But if Cali thought the captain would take advantage of the distraction to steer the conversation away from her ship, she’d have been dead wrong.
“Our guests were just asking how I came to captain the Cruel Mistress,” she said, as Gert tore a roll in half and ribbons of steam writhed from the soft interior.
The orc paused with the bread halfway to her mouth and chuckled. “Bonnie One-Eye has been ruling the seas on TheCruel Mistress for as long as I can remember. Longer than I’ve been pirating.”
“So, you didn’t start out together?” Cali asked.
Gert gave her head a gruff shake. “I grew up hearing about the legend of Bonnie One-Eye, and my mother served under her.” She jammed half the roll into one side of her mouth and talked out of the other. “She’s the reason I wanted to become a pirate. Before her, there wasn’t much place for women on the seas.”
Cali looked between the two women. Was Bonnie really older than the orc? Or was she, like Sass had suspected, part sea fey. It would explain looking so young, although the woman didn’t look fey.
