Chapter 29: Pirate Crab

Chapter 29: Pirate Crab

Iadjusted the black leather strap around Sergeant Snips’ carapace, her body wiggling in excitement.

“It’s hard to get it in place with you moving about, Snips!”

She shifted even more to spite me, blowing bubbles of amusement.

I laughed at her antics, holding her still as best I could with one hand, the other sliding beneath her and pulling the strap through a loop. Putting both hands underneath, I pulled tight, locking it into place with the metal buckle. I took a step back, admiring the fit.

“It doesn’t hurt?” I asked, looking at her now-hidden eye.

She shook her head, but both claws moved up and down in joy, making it a confusing gesture.

“Not to toot my own horn, Snips, but you look amazing.”

She nodded, blowing bubbles of agreement as she felt her new leather ‘hat’ with one claw.

“It makes you look almost dangerous—you have a real air of mystique, Snips.”

She squinted her lone eye, leaning into the claim and clacking her claws in an approximation of aggression.

The hat I’d made for her was a black eye patch, covering the scarred shell of her lost eye. The strips of leather acting as a strap were thick and wide, spreading out the pressure of its snug fit across her powerful carapace. I had feared it might cause her pain, but my worry was misplaced; it was perfect.

“It should hold up in the water, too, but don’t stress—even if it wears out, I’ll gladly make as many as you need.”

She preened, walking beside me and rubbing herself against my leg.

I bent down to pat the top of her shell.

“I love you too, Snips—and you’re very welcome.”

We walked over to the fire, and I inspected the pot of saltwater atop it. I’d intentionally kept the heat of the fire as low as possible, and the liquid had reduced only minimally over the day.

“Back in a moment, Snips.”

I walked inside, grabbing another large empty pot, a medium-sized pot filled with clean water, and a few tea towels. I returned to the fire, placed the tea towels atop the empty pot in layers.

“Would you mind holding these towels in place while I pour?” I asked the Sergeant.

She nodded, scuttling over to hold them down with her clawed appendages stretched wide.

I picked up the pot from the fire, the handles cool enough to grab since the fire was so low. I walked over to the pot Snips held, and with a steady pour, strained the saltwater through the tea towels. The water took time to filter through the combined mesh of layered cloth, and I waited for it to drain completely before dumping more water in.

When there was no more liquid left to strain, I inspected the top cloth in the late afternoon sun. A noticeable pile of sand sat inside it, interspersed with dark-brown flecks of other sediment.

“No wonder the last batch went bad, Snips.” I pointed down at the waste.

She got up on her tippy toes, peering down at the strained materials. With a tentative claw, she grabbed a particularly large brown fleck and put it in her mouth. I furrowed my brows in abject discomfort. She tasted it for a bare moment before spewing bubbles of disgust. I laughed so hard that tears came to my eyes. I fell over, trying and failing to get comforting words out through the fleeting giggles.

“Snips—I could have told you that was a bad idea. Are you okay?”

She scuttled over to the pot of clean water, sucking some out and ejecting it onto the sand.

I held the emptied pot out to her. “Would you mind rinsing this off in the river to remove any remaining sediment? I’m gonna wash off these towels.”

She nodded sharply, happy to contribute.

I took the tea towels and, placing the sediment-filled side down, washed them in the clean pot of water. Snips returned with the washed pot just as I was finishing with the cloths, and I wrung any remaining water from them.

“We’ll filter it one more time then chuck it back on the fire, Snips!”

She blew bubbles of assent, setting the river-washed pot down next to the one filled with filtered seawater. I had her hold down the tea towels again and repeated the filtering process. The sediment was almost non-existent this time, telling me the seawater was mostly free of impurities.

I put the pot of salt-filled water back on the small flames of the fire.

Uncommon

Found in the fresh and brackish waters of the Kallis Realm, this fish is a staple source of both food and bait.

A mature version of the juvenile cichlids!

The fish was short and fat, just longer and wider than Snips. I grabbed it by the mouth, knowing the fish had no teeth. I reached behind me, slipping the nail from my pocket and dispatching both fish with a swift jab.

“Sergeant Snips—you beautiful pirate crab!” I looked between her and the two fish. “We got bait and dinner!”

She bubbled with delight.

Gary slipped inside the Cult of the Leviathan Tropica branch, casting his vision around. His boss wasn’t in the main room, and he let out a sigh.

Thank Hermes’s divine guidance.

Sebastian had always been a disagreeable boss, but he’d become even more verbally abusive since the murder of Pistachio and his precious crickets. There were more crickets on the way, which Gary was holding out for.

Hopefully he’s a bit more agreeable once he has some little snippers to care for . . .

Gary walked through the room with padded steps, ensuring he made no noise to alert Sebastian of his presence, just in case the man was in another of the rooms. He winced as he walked past Sebastian’s bedroom and glanced inside. Gary sighed again; he wasn’t in there, either.

Just as he was about to leave the doorway behind, a red flash caught his attention. He dipped his head inside—the unnatural light was coming from a bag on Sebastian’s desk.

Oh—just the artifact.

He was about to leave, but something drew him in. Following the pull, he stepped up to Sebastian’s desk, reaching into the bag and withdrawing the flashing artifact.

“What the . . .”

The light above the approximation of a human flashed red as it always had, but something else had changed. The small bulb set below the drawing of animals also flashed at the same rhythm as the other.

He stared, uncomprehending.

. . . there’s an ascending creature . . . ?

Gary reflexively went to call for Sebastian but stopped himself. He thought back on his boss’s actions since discovering the flashing light. He’d ruined practically everything on learning of an ascendant human—what would he do upon learning there was also an ascendant creature?

Nothing good, Gary decided.

He closed the bag, taking the artifact with him as he left Sebastian’s room.

“How are you feeling, dear?” Barry’s wife asked from the door to their bedroom.

“Bad,” he croaked from beneath the covers.

“Can I get you anything?”

“No—thank you.”

She paused in the doorway, but after a few breaths, he heard her retreating footsteps.

How long can I go on like this?

After a couple days of no sleep and constant worry, Barry was no longer coping. He took a steadying breath, exhaling it slowly in an attempt to calm his fraying nerves. It worked—for a time.

He drifted off to sleep, but after what felt like a few seconds, he was violently awoken. His tormentor had returned, once more making itself known and expelling him from his only reprieve—sleep. Barry’s unseeing eyes stared into space, lingering on the words before him.

Please select a name.

A line blinked after the sentence, drawing his attention with each flicker.

“Please . . .” he said, fighting off tears. “Just leave me alone . . .”