Author's Note: :D I love Sway and Skeet. I absolutely adore them. I'm glad so many of you did, as well. Enjoy this chapter, and please keep up with the wonderful comments. They really do make my day.
Luv n' stuff,
Ginnnnnnnnnnnna!
25.
"Well, I think it's safe to say that he isn't on this side of the harbor," Horace commented dryly.
The trio had searched diligently but to no avail. It seemed that their missing captain had taken the opposite direction, or was hiding rather effectively.
Kirik was in a foul mood because of this, and his expression showed it. He glowered down at the wizard as if it were all his fault that their prize was remaining elusive. Horace noticed and appeared offended, once again.
"What are you giving me that look for?" He questioned. "I didn't stash him anywhere."
The Feylak merely arched a brow and issued an annoyed huff. Kirik wondered if the boy had indeed been the one to find him. The idea filled the elder brother with a vague sense of uneasiness.
Kael knew how to battle well enough, and he was courageous to a fault; but eloquence was definitely not his strongest attribute. Still though, he had to learn. However, Kirik again began to wonder if he should have sent the boy off on his own.
Anya was quiet and had been for some time now. Her thoughts were a turmoil of confusion and worry. She fretted about her sister and what may or may not be happening to her. The woman had her suspicions; oh yes, she did.
Kael's sudden change in behavior around Andi had been nagging and eating away at her. If she and her sister got the chance to speak privately, Anya planned on asking her just what had happened between the two of them. Dark thoughts of what if's and might be's danced through her mind; making her stomach alternately clench and churn.
She shook her head, trying to disperse the unpleasant jumble of mind-clutter, and instead tried to work out what was happening between herself and...
him
.
There was no use denying it any longer; something was definitely amiss. Or, at the very least, some dynamic in their captor/captive relationship had
changed
. Hesitantly, she risked a peek at the elder Feylak.
He was gazing out over the water and appeared irritated. The woman observed the strong lines of his jaw, his rigid posture, and felt a little shiver work its way up her spine.
She realized, with a start, that he was quite handsome; even despite being a different species. His features were sharp, precise and nicely proportioned. Anya watched him furtively for several more moments before becoming rather annoyed with herself.
Why should she be noticing such a ridiculous, trivial thing? And especially now? Easy on the eyes or not, he was still the enemy. Dangerous. Not to be trusted. Giving her head another shake, she jutted her chin out with stubborn resolve.
"Are you feeling alright, dear?" The wizard asked her.
She blinked, "pardon?"
"You keep shaking your head. Does it ache? Do you need to rest a little?"
At the first query, Kirik glanced at the two of them; halfheartedly wondering what they were chatting about now. Not that he much cared at the moment. Let them try something. The way he was feeling currently, he would almost welcome it. Then he could at least vent his frustrations a bit.
For some reason, the old man's polite inquiry infuriated Anya. "Of
course
I need to rest!" She snapped. "We've been going almost non-stop for," she paused, trying to think back. "Has it been five days? Six? You see? I can't even recall now. I've never been so tired. My very
bones
are weary and you ask me if I need a bit of rest. What a bloody joke."
The wizard widened his eyes at her outburst, and even Kirik examined her a bit more closely.
After a moment, Anya felt a bit ashamed with herself and cleared her throat quietly. "You've my apologies. I didn't mean to shout."
"No need, dear. I understand completely," Horace commented.
"Oh, is that so? Really. No offense, but I don't believe you do," she huffed, clearly unappeased.
He gave her an appraising glance and noticed little strain-lines around her mouth and eyes; as well as a minute trembling in her hands. She was very, very close to breaking down completely.
Figuring the abrupt absence of her sister had very likely set off this new change in persona, Horace watched her closely for a moment more before coming to an abrupt decision.
Drawing his wand, he touched the tip of it to her forehead. "Sleep," he murmured.
A pale green glow seemed to briefly light her skin from the inside out, and Anya's eyes immediately rolled back into her head. Her knees began to give way and she dropped shortly thereafter.
Surprised, Kirik lunged forward and caught her before she hit the ground. Clutching her, he shot the wizard an accusatory, questioning glare. Horace only smiled and shrugged in reply; then turned away and began to hum a jolly tune.
The Feylak issued an impatient grunt before turning his attention back onto the unconscious woman. He examined her features carefully; her eyes moved rapidly beneath her closed lids and her breathing was deep and steady. Had the old man only set her to sleep? And if so; to what end? Would she awaken on her own or-
Horace cleared his throat and gestured to the sky. Kirik glanced over and saw it was growing a bit lighter with the rising sun. It was nearing the time to go back to the ship to reunite with his brother and, hopefully, meet up with Captain Sway.
Tossing the woman over one shoulder and her bag over the other, he flapped his hand at the wizard and began walking back the way they had come.
With the approach of dawn came the bustle of the morning trade. Hopeful fishermen and store merchants began to appear in droves, seemingly all at once, to start their daily tasks.
Several individuals stopped to stare openly as they caught sight of the old man walking alongside a tall, vicious-looking creature with an unconscious woman slung over his shoulder.
Kirik determinedly kept his gaze straight ahead, not bothering to acknowledge anyone; while Horace smiled pleasantly and even waved to a couple of people. All in all, it only took them a short while to return to the ship.
Upon arrival, the elder began to frown once more. Kael was nowhere in sight, nor his little brat-girl. There was no evidence of a redheaded person either. The ramp still remained, but no deck hands traveled the length of it any longer. In fact, only Pogs was still around and he appeared to be dozing.
Horace and Kirik stopped in front of the little man and stared at him for a brief moment. The dwarf was leaning against a lone stack of crates and snoring quietly. Snapping his fingers briskly; the wizard also cleared his throat loudly, hoping to rouse the little man.
Pogs started and grumbled, blinking his eyes and squinting. "Awuh? Oi, whatchee think yer- Oh, it be ye again. Din't have no luck, eh?"
"Sadly not. Has he returned?" Horace asked.
"He who, now?" Pogs replied, scratching at his arse.
"Er... Captain Sway. We've been looking for quite a while."
"We still be here, ain't we? Whatchee think, hm?" Pogs snorted and spat a large wad of phlegm onto the boards in front of him.
Directly after, he dug around in his pockets for some tobacco. Finding a small amount still remaining; he issued a pleased grunt, he began to roll himself a smoke.
Kirik appeared disgusted and shook his head. Shifting the woman to a more comfortable position, he began to search around for any sign of the boy. The sky was growing pink now, and it was not like Kael to be late. The elder brother tried to ignore the growing knot of worry that was beginning to tighten in his gut.
What if Kael had run into some trouble and needed assistance? Perhaps that obese barkeeper had indeed made good on his threat. Should they have all gone together?
Several sharp taps jerked him out of his unpleasant reverie. Kirik glanced down and saw the dwarf looking up at him with an angry expression. Arching a brow, the Feylak returned the look in kind; unsure what he'd done to upset the little man.
Pogs said something and put a hand on the sleeping woman's leg. A surge of sudden aggression boiled in his chest, and Kirik jerked her out of the dwarf's reach.
"Krilat
krotz
jhonta harlo," he snarled, eyes flaring brightly.
Horace was watching curiously. It'd seemed that the dwarf hadn't noticed the woman hanging limply over the creature's shoulder at first. When he did, however, an angry expression clouded his features.
Marching up to the beast, he'd poked him rudely in the side several times. "What have ye done to tha' poor lass?" He accused, laying a meaty hand on her calf.
The Feylak's hostile reaction surprised the dwarf but not the wizard. No, it only confirmed what he already knew.
"I really wouldn't advise putting your hand or any other part of yourself on that woman without express permission first, Pogs." He said quietly.
"Eh?"
"It's best that you don't touch her. Nor the blonde one either, now that I think about it." Horace replied with wry amusement.
Understanding flashed across the dwarf's face and he took a deliberate step back. "Ah, ayuh. I getcha. Still though, is she hurt?"
"Oh my, no. I merely cast a harmless sleep spell on her. She was upset and exhausted, the poor thing. I'm sure she'll wake shortly." The wizard explained.
"Ayuh. Right then. Seemed a sweet girl. Would hate to see anythin' bad happen to 'er. Ye savvy, sorcerer?" Pogs said, looking Horace directly in the eye.
"Quite right, quite right. And yes, she
is
a nice young lady. Would be a terrible shame should any harm come to her."
The dwarf made a noncommittal sound in his throat; something about this wizard struck him as a bit off. Even so, he tossed an apologetic glance towards the creature and held his palms up in a gesture of acceptance.
The Feylak glowered for a moment more before offering a curt nod. After which, he continued to look around, hoping to catch a glimpse of his brother.
***
After a moment of bemused staring, Kael and Andi followed the hyper little woman out of the bath house. They found her waiting out front, staring at the adjoining whorehouse with amusement. Skeet had taken a perch on the railing and was enthusiastically bouncing up and down, appearing to be having quite a good time.
"Ye ugly featherhead! Ain't even a whore would cast an eye on th' likes o'ye! Quit yer showboatin'!"
The parrot cocked his head and focused one bright, black eye on her.
"Bugger
off
," he said clearly, before taking off into the air and roosting on the patched roof.
"Bugger off yerself, ye ingrate!" Sway shouted after him.
Andi smirked in spite of herself, earning an excited tail-wag from Taters. He dearly, dearly loved it when his Girl was happy and smiling. And she hadn't been doing nearly enough of it lately to suit him.
"He's funny. Does he always back-talk you like that?" She ventured to the captain.
"Oh aye, Andi Brat. Too often fer his own good, really." Sway replied, peering at her curiously and blinking a bit.
