"What's this all for?" Serenica asked, wary of the sudden displays of appreciation.
"I rarely talk to anyone without a golden chamberpot," the Dreamer said sourly. "I hate my life."
"You're not the only one," Serenica said and took the grape. "I just had a man die on me. A man I liked in some strange way."
"That sounds tough," the prince said. "I bet he was ugly, though."
"That's rude. Why do you think so?" Serenica asked and looked around.
There were no mirrors. They were in a dark room with black curtains covering most of the walls.
"You wouldn't grieve a handsome man," the Dreamer said, shrugged and ate a grape.
"What do you even want from me?" Serenica asked. "You're going to have to chase me, cannons out and everything. That doesn't sound like courting."
"What makes you think I am courting you?" the prince asked.
Serenica couldn't answer. She woke up, sweating, still in tropical darkness.
She had failed her mission.
The night was dreadfully boring and full of sorrow. Heike was crying at the helm.
Serenica went to keep him company and ended up in tears herself.
They wept together for the better half of an hour.
Finally, as they were exhausted, Heike asked her to help with the helm.
"Not as strong as I once was. Even your arms will do, though. I just need a little more force to turn it properly."
Serenica held the smooth wood. She caressed the helm, the wheel of fortune that guided her fate now.
Being a pirate was not easy.
She found herself nearly nodding from exhaustion once the sun was already rising. While they were out of food, they had coffee, and the Admiral came to silently bring her a mug of it.
"You haven't slept much," he noted.
"Aye, I haven't." She touched her stomach with her left hand while the mug warmed her right one. She could actually feel the growling as quivering in her flat belly.
She thought about what Myorka had said about beauty.
"You should go back to bed," the first mate said.
She didn't want to. She knew the Dreamer would be awake and there would be no one to save her from falling into a nightmare.
"The girl can take care of herself," Heike protested.
"If she wants to." The Admiral shrugged. "We need to be fast. I don't like keeping my men hungry."
Serenica had an idea. Wind jars were not something the captain was adept in. However, Spade was not the only witch aboard.
"I could help Spade make a wind jar!" She snapped her fingers to emphasize her point, but the snap only produced a soft, hardly even audible sound, as often happened while snapping one's fingers.
"He is a bit too proud for that," the first mate said. "You can try your best, though."
Serenica found the captain doing paperwork with his wife.
"Where does all this gold disappear?" he complained, probably grumpy due to the constant hunger. "Do we actually drink that much?"
"We need to get rid of this cover operation in Neul," Myorka said and pointed at a name of a business on the paper he was holding.
Serenica tried to read and understand everything. After failing miserably due to the tedious nature of taxes and organized crime she cleared her throat.
"It appears to me that we're going far too slow." She looked at Spade, ensuring she had his attention. "Can I help?"
"If you want to make a wind jar, be my guest. Just put enough stuff in there that the wind doesn't turn into a storm." The captain gave her a quick, forced smile. "Be careful, though. I would rather see you doing that while properly fed. Gods! I am starving."
"Honey, you are not starving. You are hungry," the bookkeeper said and poked him in his belly.
"It's the same darn thing," Spade insisted. "Take the rest of those pink sweets, Serenica. Feed yourself and the crew. A little is better than none. Show me the jar once you are ready."
Serenica was astonished. It had been way easier to convince the captain than she had expected.
She gave out the sugary cubes to the men. They were absolutely delighted.
The wind jar wasn't that hard to make properly. Serenica couldn't understand why Spade kept making huge blunders with them.
She showed her work to the captain.
The jar was crushed at the rear of the ship.
The skies were calm. A group of dolphins swam by. They played in the glimmering water, careless and free. A legend claimed they were ferrymen for the recently deceased. Serenica couldn't believe such good-natured beings to be anything else than just very intelligent and kind animals.
At first, nothing happened. The waves were still small. The wind behind them was weak, yet steady, and it could not support their intentions of getting to Innai's island in a few days. This time of the rainy season was tricky for sailors. The weather was almost magically unstable, ranging from the calmness of the doldrums that made the water stay still like a pond to storms that made widows out of the wives of sailors.
Then a gasp of a stronger wind hit Serenica's cheek, a sudden, forceful kiss that felt better than any smooch she had ever received.
Soon it was visible in the sails as well, blowing into them and making them puff up proudly against the bright blue sky.
Spade had taken the helm. He nodded towards Serenica, clearly pleased with her.
"We'll see if it lasts for long," she told Myorka. "I am not experienced with this."
"I have to ask you something," the bookkeeper said, looking at her feet.
"Go ahead." Serenica guessed the question would concern the subject of offspring.
"Do you think it will be good for my son to be the child of pirates?" The bookkeeper bit her lip, caressing the place where her scars met even skin.
Serenica realized her friend had taken to wearing clothes that left her round hips partially bare and even showed the scars. It was fashionable, of course, but it also made the healer wonder if Myorka was starting to accept what had happened to her.
"Realistically?" Serenica looked towards the horizon. "Many people have far worse parents."
"Will you be the distant yet vaguely impressive witch aunt?" the bookkeeper asked with a surprisingly light tone in her voice.
"Are you asking me if I..."
Serenica couldn't find the right words.
Spirit aunts were a common custom in Raelian culture, and the northern people had adopted the concept as well. Spirit aunts were responsible for the psychic wellbeing of a child, guiding them and guarding them from black magic. To be a spirit aunt was honorable and appreciated.
"You would make a great spirit aunt," Myorka nodded.
Serenica embraced her, tears of joy flowing down her face.