Chapter Four Hundred and Forty-One - The Crack of Dawn

Chapter Four Hundred and Forty-One - The Crack of Dawn

Chapter Four Hundred and Forty-One - The Crack of Dawn

The next morning came quick!

After chatting with Cholondee for a few hours, we had made our way back to the Beaver with a few stops along the way to order things Awen needed which she thought might take a while to get delivered.

We arrived just before the Scallywags returned, all three of them loaded down with stuff. They'd bought new clothes and sundries and a few things they guessed might be useful on the Beaver.

We had a big lunch together, then Steve and Gordon left just as it was getting dark. Even Clive went with them, saying that he'd keep an eye on the two while hopping over to an old sailor's pub he enjoyed.

I ended up going to bed a bit early. I wanted to be up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and while I was really-really tempted to stay up super later just chatting, I felt like it was my job as captain to at least pretend to be responsible. Plus I was a bit tired.

All that meant that I was the first up the next morning and was able to cook up breakfast for the whole crew.

Surprisingly, Calamity stumbled into the dining room, looking bleary eyed, his cat ears down and his fur all matted on one side. "Urgh, ur, uh," he said.

"Good morning!" I replied.

Calamity stared at me, rubbed his face, then blinked a few times. "Did you know that cats, I mean small ones, are crepuscular?"

"I don't know what that means," I admitted.

"It means they're most awake in the morning and evening. Dawn and dusk."

"Oh," I said. "You don't seem super awake right now."

"Nya don't say?" he grumped. "What's for breakfast?"

"Oatmeal! But I filled it with fruits! We have fresh berries, and something that looks like a banana, but I'm pretty sure it isn't. Cat people can eat fruit, yeah?"

"Sure. It's not a nice rare steak, but it won't kill me. Probably good to load up on something like oatmeal, I have a big day."

"Mhm!" I said as I bobbed my head. I rubbed my hands on my apron. I think the scallywags had bought it, because it hadn't been in the kitchen before. It was a big apron with "Hug the Chef" written on the front, and I instantly loved it. "Here you go! First served, and you get extra fruit for being nice!"

Calamity dug in while I got back to work. Soon enough Awen stumbled into the room, yawning big as she did. "Morning," she muttered before flopping into a seat. She was still in her PJs and didn't look all that ready for her adventure today.

I tried to pep her up with a good breakfast though! We had oranges and so I squeezed a few into a big jar and served it to everyone. So much sweetness in the morning was probably not great, but my friends would need that little extra energy boost. "So, you're going to the Exploration Guild first thing?" I asked.

Awen nodded. "That's where we'll be meeting the other new explorers," she said. "I hope we'll be good enough to pass."

I snorted. "I passed and I only had one class and a few levels! Amaryllis wasn't too far ahead."

"I was significantly ahead and remain so," Amaryllis said as she stepped into the dining room. "I had a full magical education behind me. I might not have had the skills to back it up, but it's still very valuable. Skills and numbers aren't everything."

"Awa, that's not reassuring," Awen said.

Taking a deep breath, I turned away from the guild. There were still a few hours before Amaryllis and Caprica would be back from their shopping spree. They were going to pick up meats and teas and pastries for the tea party with Cholondee that afternoon.

It was still quite early, though, and for the first time in a little while, I didn't actually have anything specific planned.

I grinned. That just meant that I could do an unplanned drop-in on a friend!

I wanted to visit Julien, the old grenoil that ran the Rock Inn and Roll Inn, and I wanted to check out Booksie's bookstore.

Actually, on thinking about it and the layout of Port Royal, it would be easier to see Booksie first. Plus I didn't know that she'd be home or have time for me, then I could stop by the inn on the way back before meeting my friends back at the Beaver in a few hours.

I made my way through the cobbled streets of Port Royal with a light heart. The sun was slowly rising higher in the sky, and the warmth felt good on my skin. The morning crowds were out in force, with stall owners setting up their wares and shoppers already hunting for the best deals.

As I walked, I found myself humming a tune, one that I'd heard somewhere, but couldn't quite place. It was upbeat and catchy, and I felt like dancing as I continued on my path.

Before long, I arrived at Booksie's shop.

It didn't look open. The lights inside were off, and the sign on the door was flipped to "Closed." But... well, Booksie, as nice and cool as she was, didn't strike me as an early riser. In fact, something told me she was the 'read until the sun comes up then panic' sort.

I took a moment to glance around, searching for any movement within the store. But the windows, though slightly dusty, only revealed the dim silhouette of shelves packed with books and the occasional decorative ornament. It was eerily silent.

Something felt wrong. It was a tingle in my tail and a shiver down my spine. Maybe it was just my friend-senses that were tingling? I wasn't sure what caused it, but I was starting to worry.

I wasn't sure if it would be rude, but I decided to knock softly on the door, just in case she was inside and just forgot to turn on the lights. Rapping lightly on the wooden door, I waited. A few moments passed, and nothing.

I chewed on my lower lip. It was probably nothing.

But I still felt like something was off, so I circled around the building, shuffling through a nearby alleyway to get to Booksie's backyard. Or at least, the yard behind several of the shops on this street. It was a small space cleared out, with sheer mountainous walls behind it. It looked like there had been a few sheds and such here, for storage and such.

Now those had been cleared and there was an impressive pile of pillows just sitting outside under a large pavilion tent. Was that where Rhawrexdee and Booksie read? It looked very cosy.

I noticed something odd. The back door to Booksie's shop was ajar. The wood near the handle looked splintered, as if it had been forced open.

Steeling myself, I carefully approached the door, listening intently for anything from within, but it was all quiet.

I pushed the door open gently, taking care not to make any sudden movements or noises. The shop was dimly lit, with only the morning light filtering through the drawn curtains. At first glance, the store seemed like its usual self shelves of books stacked neatly and the faint aroma of old paper in the air. But as my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I saw some unsettling differences.

Books and papers were scattered all over the floor, as if someone had rummaged through them in haste. The counter, where Booksie usually sat reading or working on her ledger, was also in disarray. The cash register lay open, its contents spilling out.

"Booksie!" I called out. "Booksie!"

My voice echoed in the silent store. There was no Booksie.

Someone had kidnapped my friend.

***