Sacred Blood

The ship rocked so that the liquid in the tub shifted and revealed a pile of bones and vaguely organic matter. The body had decomposed to the point where it was no longer recognizable. Serenica feared it might have, at some point, been John Longlines. She had thought the informant had been buried, but she could not remember for sure. So much had happened.

"Is this him?" she asked.

"Why do you think it could be him?" Spade shot back at her. He took a comfortable position in the chair that Myorka had abandoned and began scribbling something on a large piece of paper.

"I don't know," Serenica said, irate and unnerved. "You have a history of doing blasphemous things."

"I do. However, it's hard to preserve bodies. Believe me, I tried. I buried him with an apology gift."

Serenica wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. "That was the only reason you didn't keep him?"

"That, and your insistence on doing the right thing," the captain admitted. "Want to take a look at this contract?"

Serenica got closer to him and peeked over his shoulder.

The contract was far more complicated than anything Serenica had ever used in her own witchcraft. The wording was, perhaps intentionally, so clear on every line that there was no chance of any literate person misunderstanding anything. Sure, these things were a lot like mathematic formulas in every area of magic, but Spade had taken the approach to an extreme that both fascinated and terrified Serenica.

"What about the signature, though?" she asked. "Do you use your given name?"

"Spade is my given name," the captain replied. "I've had such deep conversations with the spirits - there is no room for error. They have told me it's good that I use the name Spade."

"Can you teach me to talk to spirits?" Serenica asked.

"They'll come to you once they think they need something."

Serenica thought about the mouse. It was probably afraid and frustrated, having to live in someone who routinely did courageous deeds. Still, the survival skills of rodents were unmatched. Man did his best to exterminate every single one of them, yet they thrived where he thrived.

"This man used to be a friend of Theod," the captain explained. "I killed him while you were shopping in Aja Vana. Just to get more information about the route of the corna ship."

"And did he provide?" Serenica raised an eyebrow. She was not surprised that Spade had no problems with murdering people to further his own cause. She was sure he could rationalize it somehow. She knew she could have done the same.

"Not yet," the captain said and grinned.

"How on earth did he get so bad so quickly, though? His flesh...if I can call it flesh anymore...it...looks like mashed potatoes."

Spade grimaced. "A curse. People often get themselves cursed for a situation like this. I hate it, makes them so much more difficult to raise back up."

"What makes you think you will succeed this time?"

"Your mere presence," the captain said, nodding towards her.

"I suppose that is meant as sincere flattery?" Serenica asked.

"Oh, don't worry, there is nothing sincere about it. Should we start or does your heart pound too hard? We can have some paw to calm us both down." Spade signed the paper and folded it into a neat little square

"No paw," Serenica said. "If we die, we die like men. I have had enough of cowering behind substances like a puny little attic."

Again, the mouse in her screamed. The soundless scream echoed with a nasty, painful thrill through her very bones.

"No paw? You are a brave woman. I will operate the matches this time. You, put this paper into his mouth. Wherever that may be."

Spade lit the corpse candle.

Serenica bent over what remains she could see in the murky liquid.

Luckily Serenica only had the tendency to throw up when drunk or under the influence of the paw. She had seen all kinds of wounds, from little papercuts to those gashes that revealed both bones and bowels, and never had she been thrown off badly enough by the sight of an injury to vomit. This body was no exception. It was mushy and rotten and disgusting. Serenica hated herself for even looking at it, but while she felt pain as she looked at its decomposed, slit throat, she didn't feel nauseous at all.

The captain noticed her strong constitution.

"You are hard-headed, I like that," he commented.

"Don't count your blessings just yet," Serenica said. "I will scream when something terrifying happens. I am a woman, not a goddess."

Serenica figured out where the mouth of the corpse was. It looked absolutely deformed at this point; at least the teeth were intact, though.

She slid the paper square into the mouth of the dead man.

"What do I do now?" she asked.

"We need to pump some energy into that rotten scoundrel," Spade said nonchalantly enough that the lightness in his voice made his nature very clear.

He was a madman.

"What exactly do you think will do that? He's almost liquid at this point." Serenica shook her head, biting her lip to relieve her tense nerves.

"Some rum and blood will do the trick."

That was too much for Serenica. She sprinted towards the door, but the captain was fast, again moving in a manner very unfamiliar to all other men of his considerable size. He blocked the doorway. His face got serious and dark, and his frown wordlessly commanded Serenica to stay where she was.

"All right, then," Serenica said, but she wasn't feeling brave at all. She was shaking.

Spade made her pour some of his blood into the gaping mouth of the corpse. She had never been this scared before. Blood was sacred, death was sacred, too, of course, but the blood of the living did not belong to the dead. This act brought on such extreme bad luck that she could already feel worms moving in her veins.

The captain blew out the candle.