Love and Glory

It was too late. The Admiral told her the captain had taken Little John to his cabin and made an unsuccessful attempt at bringing him back. The first mate let her in with such deep sadness in his eyes that Serenica started to doubt the extent of control he had over the captain.

Serenica slammed the door behind her so that the window made a terrifying noise. She didn't care if she sank the whole ship. There had been a violation of such a basic rule that it did not only offend her healer sensibilities but the laws of the universe as well.

Spade had tried to raise the dead body of someone who trusted them.

Little John deserved better in Serenica's opinion and no amount of pragmatism could change that.

"I can see you're angry. Can you possibly express it in a more original way? I'm tired of doors being slammed. Come on, hit me. It'd do you no harm."

"Except you'd enjoy it and that's what I do not want," Serenica snarled. Her cheeks were on fire. Her heart pumped pure anger into her veins, heating her up from the insides to the extremities.

Spade was playing with a quill. "Perhaps you're right, but what could be so terrible about me having a good time? What do you have against occultists and all those who want to become gods?"

Serenica pointed towards the bathtub.

"Oh."

"That's what your good time means!" she screamed, not managing to contain herself anymore. "Graverobbing, making sure people never reach the peace of the land below the waves, no matter if they're good people or not! I may have robbed a man of his life, but at least I didn't rob him of his eternity!"

"You believe in an eternity?" The captain got up from his seat and dropped the quill, splattering ink all over the chart of Northern Sennas.

Suddenly Serenica remembered just how intense and intimidating Spade could be. His ferocious form was massive enough to take her personal space and comfort and his hands were not wandering, they laid still on the man's hips, not fidgeting nervously, but ready to strike.

It wasn't being hit what Serenica feared the most, though.

"If you're still into those childish fairytales, I don't know what to tell you. I can ask you to do something for yourself, though, and you don't have many options. You will lie down in that bathtub right now and I'll show you what being dead is like."

Serenica was stunned.

Spade placed John's body upright in his best armchair. That was probably meant as a compliment to the deceased city watch deserter. Serenica didn't know for sure and she was too afraid to ask.

She had taken off all her clothes and now she jumped into the peculiar liquid. It felt just right against her bare skin, not too hot, not too cold.

She closed her eyes and imagined what death was like.

The captain gave her a small piece of paper. It was the other half of the contract that was partially in John's mouth.

Serenica thought about the so called ink that the contract was written in and shuddered.

She put the paper in her mouth.

The corpse candle was burning. Everything seemed normal, even though that was such a relative concept nowadays. A suicidal deadrouser teaching a murderous healer how to be more depressed.

Spade blew the candle out.

Then it was suddenly lit again.

"What?" Serenica asked.

"What what?"

"Is that it? I felt nothing. You didn't even give me a moment to look around."

"That's because there is no looking around," Spade said sadly. "I wish I could lie. The truth is, nevertheless, that you spoke to me about secrets that run in your family. You spoke of Helen and how you miss her while the candle was out. You told me some things about yourself that I do not wish to repeat for the sake of privacy. At the same time I had to hold John still. You really have so much anger in you. I don't envy you."

Serenica was so shocked that she got up, spilling the liquid and causing the captain to curse for the sake of his carpet. There had been nothing, absolutely nothing, she had not had even the small awareness of a dreamless sleep, and now the corpse was sprawled out in the armchair as if it had tried to relax and failed. Her will had indeed been taken away and given to a dead man. She had been dead, and she had seen no afterlife, no angels, no demons. Nothing.

"It's not exactly death, since your life force had not escaped too far, but it was on a vacation with your will. Your empty body had only my commands."

Serenica felt even more disappointed. If there was no sure way of telling how real death was like, what was this whole deadrousing business even about? Why did people leave their deceased loved ones to the mercy of the waters? It didn't make sense, Serenica was so disillusioned and she thought that most of the things people did were in vain.

"I know what you're thinking," Spade said as he wiped the stains off the carpet. "I felt the same. There's much to live for, however."

"And what might that be?" Serenica asked sheepishly. "I can't imagine anything that would be worth all this suffering."

"Love and glory, Ingram. Love and glory. You can enjoy both while you're still living. No permission to go to paradise needed."

The following night was the darkest Serenica had ever seen. She didn't know whether it was a tropical phenomenon or a product of her own mind. It was peaceful on the deck and she could have slept, for her eyes were weary. She smoked all night, though. She took some of the paw and the shepherd, too, when the former made her senses too dull and she feared she would fall asleep. She was afraid of everything now. If this life was all she had, she had to make the most of it, but there were so many things on her way.

Finally, at sunrise, she dared to waste a few hours in the arms of a terrible dream.