Breaking the window: Expedition to Hyperborea
Chapter 18: A speculation is made…
"After our ordeal on the Orpheus, we had only succeeded in ending up having more questions than answers. What happened to the ship which left it in such a state? How did it end up in that cove? What happened to the crew? And, perhaps the most important and pressing questions of all: who tried to kill my cousin Nymphadora? And what did they wanted to remain hidden so badly that they needed to kill for it?"
- Bellatrix Black, Expedition to Hyperborea, published 2006
Hermione opened her eyes and found her cabin bathed in the darkness of night.
Though labelling half an hour of twilight where the sun didn't even properly set before rising again was being beyond generous. The curtains in front of the port holes did an excellent job at keeping the light out of the cabin and yet it was darker than Hermione had seen in a while.
Polar Day. Eternal sun. Such a strange concept. She rather wondered how Big-Mouth, him being a vampire, would cope. The man was an experienced Arctic traveller, so Hermione supposed he was used to it and took all precautions. She figured she should enjoy the darkness while it would last, considering it would only be a few days until Polar Day and no night at all for months.
Another thing she enjoyed was the warmth of Bellatrix, nestled against her. Her soft body pressing against her side, her soft dark curls tickling her skin as she lay it parked on her shoulder. Hermione stroked through those curls for good measure and simply reflected on just how much she loved her. Fate and circumstance, travelling through time and space, had brought this wonderful girl and the love of her life into her arms. Hermione figured she should be more thankful; despite her myriad of issues and problems she was still working through, Bellatrix had stubbornly stuck with her through all of it.
Such was the pain that she had to disentangle herself from said girl, but she really did need to visit the bathroom. Enduring mews of protests of the sleeping Bellatrix, Hermione managed to free herself and let her bare feet slip to the wooden floor. The nice and warm cabin was in stark contrast to the blowing cold beyond the hull outside. She went to the small head and, after doing her business, found herself stood in front of the mirror. She washed her hands under the sink and splashed some water on her face. Eyes adjusted to the dark, she had almost missed it.
Her necklace.
It was glowing.
Nestled between her breasts, her necklace had always glowed to some extent, but this? This was different. A bright, purple glow. Much brighter than she had ever seen it. The purple glow illuminated the small bathroom and, in the mirror, she saw her own skin illuminated with the same light. It was so bright one could mistake it for the light a neon sign could make.
Moreover, it was pulsating. The glow came and went with a steady rhythm. How… ah, yes, she knew why she hadn't noticed it before. There had been so little night as of late that she had simply missed it. Hermione took hold of the necklace and held the crystal in front of her eyes. She found herself drawn to the crystal like a moth to a flame. The patterns inside were intoxicating. Enticing. It was as if… if she was looking straight into another universe. Deeper and deeper she went into the light, her very soul being drawn into it. What were the secrets this crystal held? It wasn't fair that she would never have the chance to unravel them. She had to know. She needed to know.
"HEY!"
Hermione almost jumped out of her skin and dropped the crystal, tapping harmlessly against the skin of her chest. Two strong loving arms wrapped around her, two soft lips nuzzled her shoulder. "What are you doing out of bed, hm?"
"Just, uhm…" spoke a confused Hermione, now once again with both feet planted in reality.
"Just nothing," sounded a pouty voice. A pouty voice belonging to the body now dragging her back to bed. "Go back under the duvet, right now, you! I wanna cuddle."
Yes, Trix was very much like a cat in that regard. Not that Hermione was complaining, having her lovely Trix draped against and over her. And that grin on her face. That bloody grin. "Unless…" sounded a playful voice as Bellatrix did a walking motion with two fingers over Hermione stomach. "… you have other things you'd like to do."
Scant two seconds later, Hermione was on top of Bellatrix, pinning her down and gazing into her eyes. Both girls giggled when they both withdrew under the warm blankets. Giggles that quickly turned into moans and sighs.
In her cabin, Tahki found herself tossing and turning in bed. Sleep didn't find her well tonight. At first she thought it was because of all this talk about skin-walkers earlier getting a bit on edge. Certainly, she half expected some monstrosity to jump out of her closet or to hear tapping coming from the porthole window when twilight had come. But really, that wasn't it.
It was this undeniable pull on the very core of her being which she had been feeling. A feeling which had been steadily increasing as the Kingfisher moved further north. Being a savant meant seeing and feeling the magic all around her, to a degree that other wizards and witches could not. It was a form of hypersensitivity, her gramps had explained. When she was younger, she had to learned how to protect herself from sensory overload caused by sudden bursts of magic. The constant hum of concentrated magic coming from the ship's sanctum stone in the bowels of the Kingfisher had been with her on the trip. But this feeling? This was something else entirely. Concentrated amounts of magic of a scale that blew that of the sanctum stone out of the water. It was like… staring into the sun during an eclipse. Or riding a raft through river rapids.
The Kingfisher was ever moving towards their destination, getting ever closer guided by Chandra's machines, no doubt. But Tahki didn't need machines to know that they were going in the right direction. The mythic city of Hyperborea lay ahead, awaiting them with open arms. The birthright of wizardkind, the place the shamans of her people had shared stories about for generations.
And to think she had just come along for a laugh. It made her giggle briefly.
She had tried to escape. She came to England to explore her roots, that was not a lie, but she didn't want to be tied to any obligations to her family and tribe. Perhaps if she would gift them this city, they would let her be and let do her own things. Let her live her own life.
But most of all, she wanted to make her gramps proud.
There'd be no sleep tonight.
Nymphadora lay awake in sickbay, shadowed in the darkness of precious few moments of night. Merlin's arse, she was thirsty yet again. Nobody told her that getting your throat slashed and losing near half the blood in your body would make a woman want to drink her own weight in water. She groaned as she reached for the bottle of water, her entire body protesting and the very move itself being exhausting.
Blood replenishing potion only went so far. There was only so much magic could do to compensate for severe strain put on a body. It was a humbling experience.
Shit, what she would give for a nice spliff right now. For the mental hit she had taken was even more severe than the physical one. Only now, it had started to sink in just how close she had come to dying.
After making her exhaustive motion to drink half a bottle of water, she lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
She'd almost died. Just like that. One moment of walking around, then bleeding out all over the bloody carpet. Thirty-four years old… and what had she accomplished, really? Nymphadora was never really one who had ever felt the need to leave her mark on the world, but… other than growing a mean smokable batch of plants, what was there, really? There was sponging off mum, of course, a skill she had gotten to be a zen-master at.
It was funny, really. After coming to the Kingfisher, until actually doing something that mattered, it had hit just in the face just how much of a waste of space she'd been. Oh, she'd hide it underneath jokes, bravado and an all-too-convenient Mancunian groundedness. But really, she'd been lying to herself.
Maybe it was still time to change her ways. But that felt so intimidating when everyone around her was so much more accomplished, talented or just better at life in general. Bellatrix, prodigal witch and accomplished published author. Hermione, also prodigal witch, celebrated researcher and fucking war hero. Tahki, someone who could literally see the flow of magic who was daring and enterprising. Her mother, head of House Black who had been leading her family into a new golden age. Her grandfather, another war hero and sharp businessman. Her nan, who ran a sprawling charity organisation. Her own father, while a humble groundskeeper, ran the house grounds with the efficiency of a well-oiled machine.
And herself? She wasn't particularly clever, particularly driven, particularly talented or even particularly useful. How could she even start to mend herself? Where would she even start?
Oh, bugger it, this was dead hard to deal with. How would one even crawl out form underneath the shadow of far greater people?
There was some shuffling near the door and, for a moment, Nymphadora thought that the shadow stood in the doorway was the vampire doctor returning. That is, until the shadow opened her mouth.
"Dori?" sounded the hushed voice of Rilly. "You're awake!"
Nymphadora barely had time to respond before having her girlfriend crush her ribs while smothering her with kisses. "When I heard you were injured…" she managed between kisses.
"You shouldn't be here on the crew deck," Nymphadora said, wrapping her arms around Rilly's body. Looking at her face in the darkness was just… perfection. But there were other concerns. "Big-Mouth only stepped out for a bit. He'll be back soon."
Rilly smiled as Nymphadora felt her gentle weight on top of hers. "I've used all the sneak-ways you've shown me and I even discovered a few new ones. And I've been keeping an eye on the crew. Our friendly doctor likes to maximise his time on deck when the sun is down. We won't see him back here until the sun starts rising. Should give us some time together. And I really wanted to see you."
"Oh, fuck me, Rilly, I…"
"I like the thought but we won't have time for that."
Nymphadora blinked. "What? Uh, no, I was just saying how good it is to see you right now."
"I know," winked Rilly.
Nymphadora snorted. Girl was too clever for her own good.
"I never should have brought you on board," Nymphadora closed her eyes. "It was selfish and stupid. And you're stuck hiding yourself."
"Dori?" Rilly asked carefully while Nymphadora felt fingers run through her hair. "It my idea in the first place. I wanted to be here. With you."
Nymphadora let out a wry chuckle. She gently pushed a surprised Rilly awake and rolled on her side, facing away from her. "You shouldn't be with me either. I'm a useless waste of space. You can do fucking better than me with anyone else."
Nymphadora closed her eyes, when she felt two arms wrap around her waist and Rilly's soft body pressing into her body. Her warmth. Her soft lips on the side of her neck. Glorious. Rilly was a glory she didn't deserve.
"I used to think that about you," said Rilly. "I used to think you were a pointless little rich bint born with a silver spoon in her mouth and caring about nothing but herself and fuelling her own hedonism."
That made her snort. "Well," she responded. "You were right the first time, yeah? I'm in the shadow of my own family. The lesser daughter of greater kings and queens."
"I wasn't," she said. "And neither are you. I changed my mind when we first met outside the house. When we danced and chatted. And then you took me for a ride on your motorbike. The motorbike you built yourself. From scratch by gathering parts and putting it all together. You did that. With your own two hands."
Nymphadora smirked. "The Nymph-mobile. Yeah… I love that thing so much more than the ones I just bought."
"Because you made it yourself!" said Rilly. "And let's not forget you can run laps around even Hermione when it comes to growing and caring for plants."
"But only those I can smoke," Nymphadora rolled her eyes.
"That's my point, you are a passionate person, just like the rest of your family. But only about the things that interest you. Don't talk yourself down, alright? That is well bad and it's pecking my head to see you like this."
"Hah, turning you into a proper Manc after all," Nymphadora smiled in spite of yourself.
"Point is, I want to be with you and not anyone else," said Rilly. "It's you I fell in love with, faults and all. And looking at life with a mellow attitude is a good thing. So stop thinking you're not worth anything. We're both facing our family's wrath for being together because we both feel it's worth it."
That much was true. Rilly stood to lose far more than her if push came to shove. Nymphadora rolled around to face her, her heart now feeling much lighter than before. She gently kissed the raven-haired girl on the nose. "You just… always know what to say," she chuckled. "Kind, gentle… and really, you have a such a crackin' pair of tits."
That make Rilly laugh. A sound that made her feel even better.
"No, really. Your tits are well good. Spectacular knockers all the way to the bank, mum," Nymphadora winked. "Perfect size and level of softness. Fits perfectly in my hand as if they were made for me by a higher being. So checkmate, atheists, gods exists as is proved by the existence of your divine mammaries."
"I see someone is feeling better," Rilly smirked and shifted a little to give her a better view down her cleavage.
Nymphadora ran a hand through her raven hair and gently rubbed her cheek. More seriously, she looked her in the eye and spoke softly. "Things are going to be different. I'm going to do right by you. When this expedition is over, I'm going to tell mum the truth. No more secrets, no more lies."
"My sisters…" Rilly whispered.
"… will be fine," said Nymphadora. "I'll make sure of that. I'm not afraid of my mum anymore. And we'll have options. Besides, we can't keep on sneaking around like this forever, yeah? If we ever want to have a future together, we'll have to seize it for ourselves."
Rilly sighed heavily. "You're right."
"First things first," grinned Nymphadora. "Moment I'm out of this sickbay, I'm going to head down to the cargo deck and show you every corner of the bed."
"Can't wait," said Rilly. A final passionate kiss later, Rilly gently slipped out of the door and into the partially darkened corridor. Nymphadora rolled on her back with a smile on her face, feeling a little better than before.
Yes. Things would be different.
But sweet Merlin, her mum was going to explode.
Sunniva stood on deck, braving the blasting wind and snow. The crew expressed some concern over her standing there in her borrowed clothes without any form of protection from the cold, to a point that one kind soul named Irrena had come to bring her a blanket. Such things were unnecessary: her people were very much resistant to the biting cold of the north. It was an innate magical ability. The cold was in her blood, as it were. Though this ability had its limits, there was still plenty of time left before she would have the need to warm up.
Instead Sunniva stood staring at the distance, though she could barely see ahead as the ship floated among the floes of ice. The ship lay still and the crew were constantly breaking up the ice ahead with strategically placed fireballs or other heat based spells. This was a losing battle until the ship actually started moving again. The Kingfisher was the kind of ship she and her brethren would raid for food and supplies, but she could not help but admire the spirit of its crew. And, truth be told, Sunniva had warmth in her heart.
She thought back to the words of her mother, a woman often harsh but loving in her own way, when she had told her that Sunniva would know her true love when Freyja would cross their paths. Sunniva had known the moment she had encountered the fiery Native-American woman in the corridor a deck below her feet. She had known when that woman was the first to offer her hand in friendship. She had known when that woman would come visit her for chats. She had known when that woman had entrusted things to her she had to no other.
Tahki Black was glorious. And Sunniva had fallen for her. Hard.
And cruel fate had deemed to spat in her face. Freyja had given her the chance of love when she was at the lowest point in her life. Sunniva, regrettably, had nothing to offer this fantastic woman. When she'd been banished, she had lost her position in the queen's guard, she had lost her standing among the clans, she had lost her honour. Back home, all her lands had been stripped from her, all her possessions divided amongst her subordinates and her longboat and jomsvikingr given to her brother. That last one hurt most of all; trusted friends who would be suffering under Ragnar's yoke just because they had once been hers.
Not even her axe was her own, locked up in a vault in the captain's quarters. She literally had nothing but the clothes on her back.
Sunniva knew she was not worthy of wooing Tahki Black. She could not give her the riches she deserved, she could not give her a house or lands. Right now, she could not even protect her from harm. What use was a warrior without an axe?
Sunniva simply couldn't understand why her mother had done what she had done. Her mother never did anything without a reason, she was as wise as she was strong and brutal, and yet… why had she been banished? For this? And why now? It just didn't make sense.
She gently folded her hand around the precious shell-necklace Tahki had given her and held it like she would a treasure. For now, she would simply worship from afar, keep her feeling to herself and enjoy whatever friendship Tahki would offer.
Such was her lot in life.
Nymphadora was having a rather interesting morning. Sat in sickbay feeling rather energized after having had rest and more blood in her body, she was looking forward to breakfast. Especially since her meat rations had been doubled. If it meant extra bacon, it might have been worth getting her throat cut.
Or at least, had been looking forward to breakfast until doctor Big-Mouth had started dissecting the frozen corpse now that it had sufficiently defrosted enough to allow for it. Hermione and Tahki, whom had come to visit her, had quickly left the room the moment the doctor put his scalpels and bonesaw to work on the body's chest. She herself would have joined her if the captain hadn't ordered her to stay put until he'd come to see her and the doctor.
Bellatrix, however, had stayed and looked upon the autopsy with great interest. Sat on a gurney, with her dangling legs swinging back and forth excitedly, she was often taking notes or craning her neck to see better. Of course, her being a horror writer it made sense she'd be interested in witnessing, well, morbid things. But it still felt off. The man's chest cavity now neatly cut open with ribs spread, the corpse was still mostly frozen on the inside. The doctor took out a frozen organ and tossed in a pail after examining it briefly.
"Oh, is that a liver?" cooed Bellatrix excitedly. "Yeah, that's a liver!"
The vampire doctor grumbled. "Yes, that is indeed a liver. Frozen solid and hard enough to beat you over the head with if you don't start being quiet like I told you to! At least five times before!"
"Oh, sorry," Bellatrix bit her lip. "Again…"
Nymphadora chuckled. "Just, uhm, tell me when you start having the urge to kill small animals, yeah?"
Bellatrix made a face. "I would never kill an animal, small or otherwise. Though, uhm, I might make an exception for Hufflepuff first years."
"So, how's the neck looking?" Nymphadora asked, raising her chin while rubbing the skin.
Bellatrix squinted to study the healed skin. "Thin white line, lopsided a little but definitely visible. Still," said Bellatrix, pulling up the sleeve of her jumper. "Not nearly as wicked as mine! I mean, look at that! How awesome is this? Something to tell my kids about later."
"Oh, swear down the story of how you got demolished without even having a proper chance to raise your wand?" Nymphadora winked. "Give your head a wobble!"
"Well snide of you, well snide," Bellatrix raised her chin imperiously. Zipper, sat on Bellatrix' lap was being a good boy, quiet and calm while crunching on an apple and generally paid very little attention to the goings on around him. Especially when being stroked between the wings. So far the wasp didn't seem to be very active today.
"Someone's seen their arse, haven't they?" replied Nymphadora.
Another organ was thrown into a pail, once again attracting the attention of a curious Bellatrix. "Stomach!" she exclaimed, to which the vampire grunted angrily.
"Thanks for the help," he all but snarled.
"You're welcome," replied Bellatrix semi-seriously.
A few moments later, Kirk entered sickbay, nodding to the doctor as he worked before heading over to Nymphadora and Bellatrix. The captain seemed more grim than usual, the lines on his forehead standing out particularly. If Nymphadora had to hazard a guess, he hadn't slept well last night, if at all. Something of a common theme today. The crew itself was quiet and demure on the whole, save for the ever-optimistic Haema and the ever-shouting Beodul. Though this was still Nymphadora's first sea voyage, she supposed coming across the dead hulk of a once proud sea-faring vessel of nearly the same type as their own could definitely give cause for introspection.
"How are you doing, Black?" asked Kirk.
"Fine!" replied both girls at the same time. Kirk was momentarily frazzled until a smirk formed on his grizzled face. He reached into his pocket, fished out his pipe and lit it by snapping his fingers. As the smoke spread, he took a tug from it and exhaled. "Good, good," he replied. "That was a close call at the ship. Tell me what happened. We're still rather puzzled."
Nymphadora shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "I went into the captain's quarters. Damaged hull and snow and ice everywhere. And then I see a book on a broken desk, yeah? With a picture sticking out of it. I think to myself that that's a frightening bit of luck. But it's out of reach, right? So I hold on to a table and try to grab it. And then all this naff darkness comes out of nowhere and next thing I know I'm bleeding all over the fucking floor. What it is, right? I think I heard footsteps in the darkness right before, well… you know what happened next."
Kirk pursed his lips. "We didn't find any book or picture in that room," he said. "All we found is you. Dying."
"What?" Nymphadora blinked. "I swear down, it was there! I wouldn't be reaching for it if it wasn't!"
"I believe you," said Kirk, raising his hands. "That is, I believe you saw something of interest. Truth be told, we were rather focused on getting you back to the ship for proper treatment. We did make second trip once you were stable to finished what we started. We brought on board most basic salvages, some canned food and, of course, the poor bloke on the table. Once you're feeling up to it, have a look at what we've brought to the ship, catalogue and secure it. We're planning a third trip later today with Chandra to see what kind of machinery we can salvage and dig through the hold a tad more. Would be nice to have you along for that too to make it more efficient. I want the Kingfisher to start moving again before noon or we risk freezing stuck in the ice."
"By all means," muttered the vampire. "Ask the doctor first if he's ready to release his patient. His patient who was dying scant half a day ago!"
"Captain's prerogative," said Kirk with a grin before walking along the table and regarding the deceased man. "So, what's your assessment of this poor fellow on the table?"
The vampire tossed another organ in a pail and pointed to the corpse. "My assessment is that my first guess was completely correct. This man died from acute blunt trauma, not from freezing. Take a look at those half-frozen globules of blood in his chest. That indicates massive internal bleeding. And if you look at the ribcage over here you see the entire right side shattered from the impact. He didn't merely slam into the deck. This man looks like he's been shot from a cannon right into a brick wall. It's not the kind of damage you see when a ship crashes into a shore," said the vampire, putting his hand against his chin.
"Could it have been a high-impact spell? Like being caught in a bombarda or an empowered stupefy?" asked Bellatrix.
"How do you know what that would look like?" Nymphadora asked, a little worried. To which Bellatrix merely shrugged.
"Good thought, but no," said the doctor. "That would leave magical residues which we are not seeing here. This is a good old fashioned case of falling from a great height and a sudden stop at the end."
"On a ship?" Nymphadora scratched her head. "This whole mess is making my head spin. I bet there'd be something interesting in that logbook I got my throat cut for."
Kirk and Big-Mouth shared a look, something which made Nymphadora furrow her brow. Before she could asked what was up, Kirk answered for her. "Again, we didn't find any logbook in the captain's quarters," said Kirk.
Nymphadora blinked. "Look again! It was right on top of that destroyed desk on the starboard side of the captain's quarter. It was in plain view!" she all but exclaimed. "Maybe it just fell off the desk and you just missed it."
Kirk crossed his arms, his still smoking pipe resting in one hand while a look of concern crossed his grizzled features. "We turned that captain's quarters upside down on our second visit," said Kirk. "We saw no sign of it. On or off the desk."
Nymphadora protested. "What about that cloud of darkness? What about the fact that I got my fucking throat cut in half?!"
"That cloud of darkness you describe is called the ink-murk charm. It's a common security measure on ships. Harmless enough in itself, it's merely meant to confuse any would be thieves. You might have triggered the charm by touching that captain's desk or perhaps you got too close to a lockbox you didn't see," said Kirk. "I have one cast on the ship's vault in my quarters where I've stored the Viking's armour and weapons."
"As for your throat," said Big-Mouth. "May I suggest you ventured a little too close to the gap in the hull? Those frozen ropes blowing in the wind are razor-sharp and you probably just lost your way in the darkness. Consider yourself lucky it didn't take your head clean off."
Nymphadora sighed, defeated for now. "Fine…" she muttered. A start went through her when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw Kirk looking her in the eye.
"You're alive and healthy, that is what matters," said Kirk. "No more talk about logbooks now, though you are free to look for it should we have time to spare."
"Oh, captain, oh!" Bellatrix excitedly hopped off the gurney and developed a distinct 'puppy dog eye'-look while gazing up at the captain.
Kirk chuckled briefly. "Spare me any speeches, miss Black," she with good humour on his voice. "We've deemed the wreck to be mostly safe, so you're free to join the party for the third salvage visit to make a written account of the wreck of the Orpheus. Though you're expected to follow orders to the letter and do your fair bit of the hauling."
"YES!" Bellatrix exclaimed, doing a playful salute for good measure.
"Both of you report to deck at ten o'clock sharp," said Kirk. "Meanwhile, doctor, prepare this poor sod for burial at sea. We'll have a short ceremony after our return from the wreckage and will get underway swiftly afterwards."
And so Nymphadora and Bellatrix found themselves being shooed out of sickbay by an irate vampire where they slowly made their way below decks through the mess hall. At the mess hall, they found Haema setting up things for today's breakfast for the crew and Hermione and Tahki already sat at their usual table. The browned-haired witch looked up with a grin the moment she spotted them. "So, got your fill of dead bodies today?" asked Hermione. "I was in no particular need to see any of that."
"Hey, uhm," Nymphadora broke in. "Think we can… chat in private for a moment? In my digs?"
Hermione and Tahki shared a look before getting up silently. The group of four went down the stairs to the orlop deck and then down the ladder to the cargo deck. Bellatrix, as she usually did, had run ahead and was already at the door when the rest of the group arrived, her hand rattling the doorknob.
"Why do you keep locking the door?" Bellatrix pouted while Nymphadora reached for her keyring.
"I told you," she said, applying her usual fib. "Riggere keeps stealing all the good rum if I don't keep him out."
Though a half-truth at best, Nymphadora knew she had to buy Rilly some more time to actually get inside her hiding spot. As she reached for the door, she feigned dropping her keys by accident. They fell to the deck with a metallic clink. "Fuck, I need new hands," Nymphadora sighed. Zipper, being the good boy that he was, decided to be helpful and buzzed down to the ground to pick up the keyring. With a crack, he teleported back into the air where he hovered in front of her with the keyring in his mandibles.
"Why thank you very much, my lovely four-winged gentleman," Nymphadora said and took the keyring. Her next feign was to slowly and awkwardly go through the keys pretending she couldn't find the right one. When she finally figured Rilly would be hidden, she found the key and opened the door… only for that silly wasp to immediately shoot into the room and fly right towards Rilly's hiding space where he hovered in front and then crawled over the plank looking for a way in. She swore that wasp must have had some sort of blood-hound DNA.
But, she had developed a perfect countermeasure.
"Hey Zipper," she said and jumped into the hammock while rattling a jar. "Come and get it, mate!"
The eager wasp landed on her stomach and was given the gift of thick salted beef jerky. Not only a staple of food for any sailor worth their salt, but also something Zipper really had to work for to chew up properly. So, the hiding spot was swiftly forgotten in favour of tasty food and scratches between the wings while nestled on top of a warm belly.
With Zipper thoroughly distracted, the subject changed to the reason why Nymphadora called them down to her quarters and told her story. "… so, basically, right?" said Nymphadora. "I think someone tried to off me, that's what. I wasn't anywhere near that hole in the hull. And I definitely heard someone else in the room before… well… you know what happened next."
Hermione, sat on the chair while Tahki lay prone on her bed with Bellatrix sat on the edge, put a hand to her chin and thought for a moment. "Okay, let's sum up what we know. Four people set out to a wreck randomly encountered during a voyage. It was, at the time, unknown exactly what this ship's purpose was or how it was wrecked. Or even if it was the Orpheus at all. The four people on the sloop people were you, captain Kirk, doctor Big-Mouth and Chiputec, accompanied by two of the ship's wasps. During the examination of the ship, you split up in groups of three. Big-Mouth and Chiputec examine the lower decks, you and captain Kirk examine the upper decks. Both groups also have one wasp. So you head to the crew deck and find the captain's quarters, see a logbook and try to fetch it. The moment you do, you are engulfed in magical darkness and your throat is cut. You manage to safe yourself with the help of one of the wasps. From what we've been told, captain Kirk found you, called over the others and swiftly transported you back to the Kingfisher."
"There's more," said Bellatrix. "There was a second trip to the Orpheus to recover the body of the dead sailor as well as finishing the examination of the wreck that was cut short… if you pardon the pun…"
Hermione nodded. "Let's examine what would be the reason for wanting to cut your throat. You say you saw a logbook. It was not there during the second visit. If you were indeed assaulted, the logbook is the prime reason for it. Someone didn't want you to see that logbook to a point they wanted to kill you for it."
"You're assuming that anyone actually wanted Nymph dead," muttered Tahki. "You know how clumsy Nymph can get. She triggered a security-system, got confused and almost got cut up by a frozen rope."
"Okay, Chief Bullshitting Bull-bollocks, explain where the logbook went off to then?"
"Maybe you just knocked it out into the cold, you limey asshole!" Tahki shot back. "You did say there was a big-ass hole in the side of the hull, after all."
Hermione shrugged. "Tahki does have a point."
Nymphadora groaned. "Not you lot too."
"Be fair," said Hermione. "You were confused, everything happened really fast and you were caught in a dark cloud. Not to mention losing about three pints of blood. But still, let's operate under the assumption that someone did assault you. Who were on the trip? Kirk, the doctor, you and Chiputec. It's safe to say that you didn't cut your own throat and I doubt the wasps would be involved. What do we know about the other three? Trix, you interviewed everybody on board multiple times. What do you think?"
"The doctor's the most mysterious one," said Bellatrix. "Gruff, often angry. But he doesn't strike me as a killer. I mean, how often do you see a vampire doctor? Chiputec is a relative newcomer to the crew, but an experienced sailor. He's a gentle man who wants to make money to send home to his family. If he has a darker side, he hides it well. Kirk is intense and commanding, but he cares deeply for his crew. I can see him killing someone if it is to protect his crew. And he was nearest to you when it happened."
"Are you taking the the piss?" said Nymphadora. "I am part of Kirk's crew and he's always trying to… I dunno… give me peptalks and such. Trying to convince me I'm less of a fuck-up than I actually am, yeah?"
"Hah!" Tahki exclaimed, accompanied with a giggle. "Good luck with that!"
"It's safe to assume that getting you to sickbay was their priority and none of the group paid attention to much else," said Bellatrix. "So maybe the logbook was still there, but it was spirited away on the second trip? Or perhaps someone apparated from the Kingfisher to the wreck of the Orpheus."
"That would require prior knowledge of the ship," said Hermione. "And the wreckage."
"What if they have?" said Bellatrix. "What if someone on board did know that that wreck was in fact the Orpheus? What if they'd been aboard before? That would give them enough prior knowledge to teleport over."
"In that case," said Tahki. "Everyone on board is a suspect."
"What about that tall blonde soon-to-be-fucktoy of yours, then?" said Nymphadora. "She seems pretty much capable of cutting someone's throat and probably has done it dozens of times before."
Tahki gave her an incredulous look. "Sunniva? No fucking way," she snorted. "Trust me, if she's the one who wanted you dead, you'd know it was her. She's not exactly subtle! If she wanted you dead, she'd just strangle you with her bare hands and won't bother with the murk-ink spell. And she's my friend, not my fucktoy! Jesus, I'm not into chicks, Nymph!"
Bellatrix seemed lost in thought. "We're missing something here," said she. "Think of it this way. You are a person with a secret to hide on a ship travelling the Arctic. Then, your ship comes across the ship you used to sail on, but you don't want your other crew-mates to know this for some reason or other and this reason is important enough to want to kill for. A group of the crew sets off to examine the wreck, and you start panicking. You teleport ahead to the wreck to try to erase any evidence before it is found, but you don't know exactly what you're looking for. By now, the sloop from the Kingfisher has arrived and you start to panic even more. You quicken the pace as the crew is now on board the wreck and hide yourself behind a spell of invisibility. And suddenly, there you see what you're looking for. But just as you're about to claim your prize, someone from the crew walks right into the captain's quarters and starts looking around. Then, she sees what you see and reaches for it. More panic. You have to act quickly and you do. You cast a spell of darkness to confuse your foe and slash a knife across her throat. Then, you swiftly grab the logbook, teleport back to the ship and hope you aren't discovered."
Hermione nodded. "That sounds… likely," she sounded surprised at that. "So where would the logbook be now?"
"Destroyed, without a doubt," said Bellatrix. "Likely fire magic. It's quick and leaves no trace."
"Undetectable too," said Tahki. "Before you ask, no, I didn't feel any unusual magics. With all the fire magics being used all over the ship to keep the ship warm, I wouldn't be able to tell. Same with teleportation magic, which is the same kind of magic the sanctum stone uses and you know how that's ever present on this ship."
"So we now also know that the would-be killer is clever enough to hide their tracks," said Hermione. "But we still haven't uncovered the reason why they wouldn't want to be identified."
"What it is, right?" said Bellatrix. "I think our would-be killer doesn't want anyone to know they were part of an Arctic expedition thought lost with all hands… because they might be the very reason that ship was lost with all hands in the first place. And they don't want to answer difficult questions."
"If you're correct," said Nymphadora, sighing heavily. "Then that would mean we have someone on board willing kill and has likely killed an entire ship's crew before, one way or another."
"Question on my mind is… who?" said Hermione. "I think we can safely rule out all four of us."
"And the wasps!" Bellatrix added.
"Agreed," said Hermione. "But… other than that, it could be anyone. Let's try to keep our eyes open."
All four girls shared a very uneasy glance and the mood on aboard the Kingfisher seemed just a tad darker than before.