Strangulation

The Admiral looked at her seriously.

"I will get Spade. He can help."

Serenica was now left alone, her head between her knees. She was afraid to close her eyes. She didn't want to see more horrors or impossibilities.

"Look at that," the voice of Seppei said.

Serenica got up and took a look around.

The first mate was no longer on the deck. Instead, the one of the Johns with scurvy and a bad attitude was standing next to a madly grinning Seppei.

"You know how it's easier to apologize afterwards than it is to ask permission beforehand?" Seppei asked. "Well. It'll be a heckload easier to throw your rump overboard and be seen as the hero once the curse is lifted."

Serenica had heard so many negative things about herself lately that she started to believe in them. She could be cursed. It was far from an impossibility.

"If you think killing me will bring you relief, you are free to try," she said, noticing a hint of confidence in her own words.

"You think you can take me?" Seppei asked. "The Admiral ain't here to save you. He's gone to have a nice little bottle of wine with our nice captain, who so unfairly favors you."

"You can't be serious," Serenica hissed. "You are envious because of a few sweets? You want to talk to the dead yourself, you can do it! Be my guest! Don't come crying to me after your life turns into a nightmare."

"A few sweets wasn't the only thing he gave you. He's given you more gold than you are owed..."

Seppei seemed to be completely convinced of his claims.

"They will be here soon," Serenica warned him.

"Then I will have to be quick," Seppei replied and grabbed her by the throat.

At that moment Serenica wasn't sure if she had been strangled before. She did know that she had been struggling for air many times. It had never felt quite this bad. Her panic was immediate. Her eyes felt the pressure. Her blood stopped its movement and her head throbbed. The edges of her world began to fade to black fast enough that she lost hope. She would die like a dog for the sake of an imagined curse.

She did not want this.

If Seppei had tried to throw her overboard, she would have had a chance of wrestling him until someone came to help her. She was afraid he would break some vital structure inside her throat.

A shot rang across the deck. Seppei screamed. He let go of her in a moment that made the will to live blaze upwards in Serenica, towards the sky until she felt herself collapsing into a pillar of white light.

The strange feeling passed. As she got up, she realized that Seppei had been shot in the back.

Spade was standing on the other side of the ship, his pistol smoking.

"Is he dead?" he asked.

Serenica checked the wound. It would kill Seppei, slowly, though.

"He will be," she replied.

John put on a regretful face that somehow didn't seem to fool the Admiral, who tackled the scurvy-ridden man onto the deck, placing his hand on the hairy throat and apparently squeezing really tight judging by the cold pink color of John's face.

"Get off him, William!" the captain yelled. "He will be keelhauled. We're honorable men. We kill him painfully! Painfully! Do you understand?"

The first mate groaned and let go.

Serenica forced her breath to be even again. She enjoyed the night air. She enjoyed the commotion. The crew gathered around her, alerted by the gunshot, and nearly everyone came to check if she was all right.

The mutinous intents had belonged to two men, only two of them. The rest of the crew was very much upset with Seppei. They let him know that, kicking him as he bled out.

"If you try to make a bandage, I will kill you myself," Spade warned Serenica.

"Oh, trust me, I am fine with him dying," Serenica said, without remorse, not even blinking as she watched the pool of red expand under the wounded man. "That kind of damage is terrifyingly painful."

"You must understand that this has never happened before," the captain said and walked up to her.

He took off one of his scarves and wrapped the warm piece of wool around her.

Serenica had to hold back tears.

The Admiral embraced her, even though he had to let her go once Myorka ran up to them, openly crying. She demanded to hug Serenica as well, and her perfume pierced every part of reality as it was, sweet and floral.

"This will never happen to you again, I swear on my life," the bookkeeper said. "I am so sorry for calling you a spinster."

"I am all right, I swear, except for the Mother," Serenica said.

The way she said those words made it clear. She was talking about the goddess of death.

"You saw her?" Spade asked, sounding worried. "This night is somehow special. I dare not go on with bloodsight."

"This is insanity, only madness, nothing more," Serenica said. She didn't much care to hear a grown man so worried by her words. "It will pass once I find the cure."

"Only madness? You understand how severe that is in itself?"

"Can we just lock John up and keelhaul him tomorrow?" Serenica begged. "I need sleep."

"Of course. But you will sleep next to Myorka."

"There is only room for two."

"That was not a mere suggestion. I will stay up and guard your sleep. Understood?"

Serenica didn't argue with her friend. She had no energy for that.

The bookkeeper curled up around her on the bed, her smooth skin lulling Serenica to sleep.

As she drifted into a deep, relieved slumber, she began to feel like she had forgotten something important.

She couldn't remember what it was. A painful feeling in her throat jolted her awake. She was afraid the numbing effects of the paw caused her to ignore serious injuries.

As she closed her eyes again and gave in to the power of sleep, she remembered in a short flash of lucidity that she had forgotten her obsidian.

She would be vulnerable to psychic attacks from the Dreamer.

She was too tired and intoxicated to get up or even say anything. A darkness washed over her, thick and heavy, sweeping her consciousness away into the perilous night.