Maybe Mundane, Maybe Feline

"Tell me about the GHOST!"

SLAP!

The cat o' nine tails, the one with the nine knots, was one of the best instruments aboard a ship when it came to torture and discipline.

It was the second best, actually.

Mariana's hand was the best.

"I'M ALREADY TELLING YOU ABOUT THE BLOODY GHOST!"

"Then why do I understand absolutely nothing?" Mariana hissed and slapped the stretched cheek of the pirate captain.

When stretched with the correct equipment, the soft flesh of a cheek was much more sensitive to pain, and this in turn allowed for more cost-effective interrogations.

Heavens knew that it did no one any favors to waste a perfectly good whip by using it every time there was a need to inflict pain or injuries. Mariana liked to consider herself crafty, she liked to do things in a homebrew fashion if she could save resources by doing so.

Really, whips were so expensive and easily broken.

"His name is Dars, he was your adoptive brother who died of consumption, what else? WHAT ELSE?!"

"He…"

The pirate captain was clearly trying to calm his nerves after the facial assault.

"He curses everyone who speaks about him or meets him," the man finally said, panting, eyes wildly searching for solitude in the dark hold of the Good Wife. "That is…that is why I said nothing. He may be sweet, but that man is an undead witch. You stay away from him, you hear me?"

Mariana frowned.

"How do I know that you are not telling me this to throw me off?" she asked. "And why are you even warning me? I took your wine, Captain, you should hate me."

"No one really hates privateers." The pirate shook his head, splashing the bilge water with his shoe.

There was quite a nasty accumulation of that water. The shipmaster would have to do something about it before there could be a danger of the entire ship sinking. The Good Wife was gulping up way too much of the sea; it was as if there had been a reason for the reasonable price of the ship.

"No one hates us?" Captain Mariana raised her eyebrows.

"No, because it's just another way of life. I don't know if you realize this, but most practically minded people don't spend their nights grinding their teeth and pointlessly wallowing in hatred."

"I might just disagree about that," she muttered.

The rest of the interrogation was not as fruitful. Apparently, the ghost just operated on pure malice alone and did whatever he could to stop his victims from achieving their goals. This was concerning. People had motives for Mariana to exploit. Ghosts did not. They had nothing to lose.

Now she was cursed, having cursed her true love. That had to be a bad thing.

Somehow she wasn't all that afraid, though. The loot had been good enough to quench the thirst of her men. The day had been pleasant enough.

It was nearly midnight when the shipmaster arrived to Mariana, looking worried.

"She is sinking, Cap'n."

"She is…"

The words hit her like a kick of a mule in her chest, knocking out all air in her lungs.

"Sinking. She can't be. I just bought her."

It was customary to talk about ships like one would have talked about women, but in this particular situation the habit only added to the distress.

"Well, she does go downwards, which is not the way for a ship to behave. Cap'n."

"Yes, we must do something," Mariana muttered.

But what?

They did not have enough boats to hold everyone and something inside the captain rebelled against letting any of her men die while the others lived.

The only possibility was a magical intervention.

Against the demands of the shipmaster, she ordered him to keep quiet about the situation. She locked herself in her cabin and started to throw the dice.

At first, she got a combination that looked vaguely familiar.

She was hoping to get Dars to come to her and do something about that curse.

No, what she got was a regular cat peeking from under the table. It seemed like a regular cat, but none of the felines on the ship were that black.

It was probably demonic in origin, although with its soft, reassuring purring, the word "angelic" could also apply. The cat jumped up, making the wine goblet shake as the hefty behind of the animal put some jiggle into the feeble furniture.

"Thank you, cor, that helps a lot," Mariana said and regretted her sarcasm straight away as the cat looked away from her.

It was almost like the bright thing could discern between the proper usage of honorifics and an insulting bit of irony.

"Can…can you help me, cor?" She tried again, this time with sincerity.

The cat turned towards her, its yellow eyes shining in the candlelight.

It was a tomcat, judging by its size. Its gaze was clever, attentive, and a bit scary, but the general presence of the animal was a nice change from the constant mortal danger.

"I need to…I need to get a hold of a specific ghost. His name is Dars."

The cat blinked twice.

"Is two blinks a yes, cor?"

Another two blinks.

Mariana slapped her forehead. Even if that was a no, she had no way of knowing that if she used conventional logic.

"Well, I would like to roll the dice, but I am afraid of summoning something or someone with…less class and less fluffy, perfect fur. How would you feel about helping me, cor?"

The cat blinked twice again.

For a moment, it seemed like this strange creature was just going to keep her company as she drowned slowly, sinking with the Good Wife.

Then the cat put its paw against the dice. It was obviously going to play with them.

"Nonononono, cor, please don't summon a demon. Dear cat -"

The dice rolled off the table. The cat and the captain both ran to check out the result.

The symbols were very much familiar this time.

Mariana lifted her gaze from the floor, seeing a pair of slender, translucent legs that seemed to fade off before they could form two ghost feet.