Author's Note: This fic is the third installment in the Legends of the Skyways series, a collab between myself and cakeengland. (The first book is entitled Quest for the Legends: Finding the Iron Dove.) As always, I'm writing the odd chapters while she takes the evens. Enjoy!
Daring Galen Everret hated rabbits. Most people found them cute and cuddly, but having just been tricked by one, a certain One-Eyed Jack, Galen was not feeling at all charitable toward the creatures. That's what you get for trusting someone.
Galen slammed open the door of the Black Spot Tavern, which Jack owned, and stormed to the back where the dubious rabbit could usually be found. Sure enough, there he was, his many earrings glinting in the half-light, his expression disgustingly smug. "Well, if it isn't young Everret himself! Have you come to pay back my favor?"
"That's one way of putting it," the young swashbuckler growled. "That tip you gave me about the Storm Captain almost got me killed!"
One-Eyed Jack smiled and shrugged. "I just told you the lead I heard about the legend's whereabouts. It's not my fault if some sharks got there first! You still owe me a favor."
Galen clenched his teeth. "You haven't done me any favors, so I owe you nothing. And how did you know about the sharks, anyway?"
Maddeningly, the jackrabbit was unruffled. "Well, I could tell you, but that would count as another favor, wouldn't it?"
Galen had had enough. Quick as a blink, he seized Jack's collar with his right hand and whipped out his favorite dagger with his left, holding it up to the scoundrel's throat. "How about you do me the favor of never speaking to me again, I do you the favor of sparing your life, and we call it square?"
Jack gulped, his single remaining eye darting about as though searching for an escape that was not forthcoming. "Okay, okay," he stuttered nervously. "N-no need to b-be so d-dramatic about it…"
"So we're square, and I'll never have to see your ruined face again?"
"Of c-course!"
"Good." Galen released the rabbit, who was now thoroughly cowed, and turned to leave the tavern, when he heard a soft voice. The room was noisy, of course, but something about the voice caught his attention. He turned to look.
"Maybe he'll listen now," said the voice's owner, and Galen's heart skipped a beat. She looked to be about his age and had short, straight chocolate-brown hair that hung to her chin, framing a lovely face with large eyes the color of sapphires. Even in a militaristic black-and-white officer's coat with a rifle slung over her shoulder, she was breathtakingly beautiful. She was also talking to an ostrich.
Galen made a snap decision and went over to talk to her. "Problems with the rabbit?" he asked casually.
The girl looked thoroughly alarmed. With a small yelp, she darted toward the curtain that separated the back of the tavern from the rest when it was closed, hiding behind it. Her faithful pet ostrich followed, pecking confusedly at the fabric. Galen followed as well, tentatively asking, "Is… everything all right?"
Galen waited. No response. After a few impatient minutes, he turned and saw the girl, now talking a little shyly to One-Eyed Jack. He noticed that the rabbit seemed to have regained some of his swagger, and the girl seemed flustered. Glaring at the trickster, he pulled out both of his daggers this time and drew himself up to his full height. He had recently hit a major growth spurt and topped six feet - his new height was taking some getting used to, but it came in handy from time to time.
His eyes fixed on One-Eyed Jack, Galen saw the exact moment the bunny noticed him - his tall ears flattened, and he shrank back. He and the girl exchanged a few more words; then the girl turned and made for the door. The ostrich, which had been pecking at the curtain the whole time, followed her with a confused expression.
After being separated from his sister and friends, Galen had learned the hard way that no stranger deserved his trust, especially among pirates, but something about this girl - something beyond her beauty, although that was a factor - intrigued him. Against his better judgement, he ran after her. "Wait! What's your name?"
Out the door, down the hoist, and out into the crazy mess of wrecked ships that had somehow fused together to form the town of Flotsam. The girl was fast and obviously spooked. Maybe I shouldn't do this if she's this alarmed, Galen thought ruefully, slowing his pace until the girl was out of sight. Guess I'll never know who she really was.
A bit at a loss, Galen made for the docks. Since his latest lead on his sister Holly had led to a dead end (almost literally), he had nothing to do and nowhere to go. Moving at an almost leisurely pace, he passed through the gate that led to the dock area and went to board his ship.
Distracted and disheartened, he boarded the small ship with Silent Falcon painted on the side of the hull near the prow and headed for the captain's wheel. He had at first been dubious about flying a ship uncrewed, but had soon found out that the magic of ships went beyond fitting into bottles when you needed them to - they could also be flown by a single pilot standing at the captain's wheel.
As Galen prepared to cast off, he heard a familiar, indignant voice. "What are you doing on my ship!?"
He recognized the girl from before, glaring up at him. "Huh? But this is my ship!"
"Didn't you look at the name?" the girl complained.
"Yes, I did!" Galen protested. "The Silent Falcon."
"Exac- wait, what?"
"What, what?"
Instead of replying, the girl took a quick look around, then pointed. Docked on the opposite side of the pier was another ship of the same class, also with the name Silent Falcon painted on the side, but with Galen's personal flag (two crossed rapiers behind a compass rose on a blue and black field) hanging limply at the top of the mast. Galen checked the top of the mast of the ship he had been about to fly and saw a black flag with a grey and white wolf's head on it. "Oh."
Sheepishly, he stepped away from the wheel and descended to the deck to face the girl who apparently owned the ship. "Sorry about that," he said, hoping he wasn't blushing.
The girl laughed uncomfortably but said nothing. Galen tried again to get a response. "So, um… what's your name?
"Why do you want to know?" It sounded less like a challenge and more like confusion that anyone would care to ask her. Galen's heart melted a little.
"I-I'm not actually sure," he confessed. "I just… I saw you in the Black Spot and just felt like you could be someone I would want to know."
"Oh." The girl didn't seem particularly pleased or especially disappointed; she just seemed to want him gone. Galen could respect that. He turned to leave, but then he noticed something on her person he simply had to ask about.
"Is…that a cat sticking out of your jacket?"
"Mew." Sure enough, there was a tiny cat poking its fuzzy little head out of the girl's jacket.
"Can I pet it?" Galen started to reach forward, then stopped, not wanting to invade the girl's space.
"Him," the girl corrected. "His name is Tickles."
So you'll tell me your cat's name but not yours? Clicking his tongue, Galen held out a hand toward Tickles to let him sniff. To his surprise, the cat burst from the girl's jacket, flapping a pair of feathery wings to fly toward the startled boy. Something seemed wrong, though; the tiny animal's flight seemed erratic, and he tumbled ungracefully into Galen's arms.
"Tickles!" the girl exclaimed. "What are you doing?"
Sitting up in Galen's arms, Tickles twitched his ear and flicked his tail at her - he almost seemed to be talking to her, in his own feline way. As he moved, Galen noticed that his right wing seemed a little stiff. Taking a closer look, he found that it seemed bent at an odd angle compared to the other wing, many of the feathers were rumpled or torn, and there was a bloody scar near the joint. "Poor friend," he murmured, stroking the cat's head.
"Oh, fine," the girl said, leaving Galen confused. "My name is Esmerelda Yveson, and Tickles likes you, so I've decided to trust you."
"Smart cat," said Galen jokingly, at which the cat in question began to purr. "Can he understand what we're saying?"
Tickles purred louder. "That would be a yes," said Esmerelda proudly. "He's no ordinary cat."
"Evidently," Galen agreed, eyeing Tickles' wings. He winced at the obvious damage to the cat's right wing. "He seems a little worse for wear."
Esmerelda's face fell. "He got attacked by a Skarakeet," she explained. "I've been trying to find someone who can heal him, but the supposed pet doctor One-Eyed Jack directed me to turned out to be nothing but a scam artist."
Galen scowled. "Figures. But, you know, Sam Feathers over in Scrimshaw is a miracle worker with every kind of animal you can think of, and he's no scam artist - if he's still there after all these years, I'm sure he can help Tickles." He gently handed the cat back to Esmerelda.
Her face brightened. "Really? Thank you!"
"You're very welcome." Galen swept off his hat, a dramatically wide-brimmed affair with an enormous blue feather, and took a bow. He began to leave, but Esmerelda stopped him.
"One last thing. What's your name?"
"Oh, it's Galen Everret. And it was a pleasure to meet you, my lady." She made no reply, so he strolled off down the gangplank, humming to himself. I hope we meet again.