Late in the morning while she dozed, Blue was awoken by the sound of water moving. Considering the calm weather and even calmer island water, she thought that was quite odd. When she sat up and turned around, she was surprised by the sight a light blue galleon coming to a stop beside the sloop.
That seemed problematic.
After subduing her fight-or-flight response, Blue considered her options. Nothing jumped out at her as a particularly good idea. Starting a fight was out of the question with the galleon's cannons already pointing at them; simply making for the rigging controls and lowering the sails to put some distance between them didn't seem like something they might allow for — again, what with their cannons already vaguely pointed at the smaller ship.
So Blue did the only thing that seemed right.
"Good morning, sirs," she said, getting to her feet with a casual stretch, wrapping her blanket around her shoulders. When the crew didn't respond immediately with hostilities, she felt much better about the situation. Z was still something of a wild card, but she trusted that he wouldn't do anything stupidly rash when he showed himself. Then again, how would this galleon crew perceive a shipmate of hers?
One of the galleon crew, a brute of a woman with curly red hair, waved back to her, perhaps out of obligation as the gesture lacked energy. Something about her expression didn't sit right with Blue. An ink-black-haired man at the helm hollered back, "Good morning!" He was clearly no ordinary sailor, a pirate, though he was one that cared greatly for his appearance, and for good food. He was dressed in well-cared-for dark clothing and sported a beard that outlined his face; his entire countenance reminded her of someone she had met just before entering the Sea of Thieves. A crewman still finagling with the rigging looked much rougher all around and with a build of bulky muscle. The final member of this crew was the finest looking of them all. His appearance was well-cared for and he dressed even better than the helmsman did, though wore no shirt under his jacket, showing off a well-toned form.
"What can I do for you this fine morning?" she asked.
"We have some business at this island," the shirtless man answered.
"I see."
A rope was tossed to her and she caught it. Guessing correctly that it was so that they could pull the ships close together, she tied it to a support beam of the canvas back and the master rigger worked on doing exactly that. Should they have wanted the island to themselves, surely they would have simply asked this little sloop to give them the space. To pull the ships together…
"If it makes matters easier for your crew," Blue began, her words slow as curiosity began to turn to concern; "we can be on our way."
"Oh, by all means, stay a while with us," the man replied, apparently unperturbed by her plural word usage. He made a motion to the crewmate that was pulling the ships together — mostly by pulling the Forlorn Phoenix's stern closer — and motioned that his work was satisfactory before looking to the helmsman. "Garrett, would you be so kind as to begin looking over the book once more?"
The fine man Garrett nodded and disappeared into the captain's cabin. The other turned his attention back to Blue and she spoke quickly.
"Might I dress before we continue? It is rather chilly this morn."
He paused for a moment before nodding and motioning for her to do that. "Yes, of course."
When Blue made her way to the hold, she was unsurprised to find Z sat on the edge of the bed, wide awake, ready to go. He looked frazzled.
"We have company," she stated plainly, voice hushed so the galleon crew did not hear.
"How many?" Z asked. "What kinda ship?"
"At least four. It is a galleon," she replied, stepping past him and beginning to rummage through the clothing chest. When she looked back at him, he had moved to the foot of the bed with his back turned to her.
"I don't like this."
"Neither do I," she said after wondering if she should try to calm him. She was mostly done changing her clothes and had turned back to him; at some point, he had turned to give her an incredulous look. She ignored him as she flattened the cuffs of her coat's sleeves, forgoing a nice dress in this situation — just in case — for something similar to Z's outfit, if more stylish. "I do not believe we are in any danger, however. They seem confident. If they were not, they could have sent us to the seafloor already."
"Doesn't mean they ain't about t' try robbin' us," he shot back.
"Perhaps." She paused and added, "I have not hidden your existence from them."
He sighed and looked fairly exasperated until he took note of Blue placing her dagger on the back of her belt, hiding it under her coat. This precautionary measure seemed to appease him some.
"Get a change of clothes on and show yourself, hmm?" she suggested.
"… Fine, but I'm comin' up armed."
She decided that was fair and nodded, making her way past him and heading back up to the quarter-deck. While Garrett was still out of sight and the one she had not been talking with was busy making sure the galleon was stopped properly, she spied the woman disappearing below deck. The one she had been talking with now stood on the short gangplank of the gally that stuck out, hovering over the sloop. He visibly eyed her new clothing.
"What business brings you here?" Blue asked, ignoring his look.
"The skeletal kind," he answered simply.
Blue regarded him with curiosity. If there was a skeleton crew here, they had not encountered it. This may have been a large island, but it struck her as odd that they had not been greeted by swords. How very odd. She wanted to voice that thought but he moved to speak first.
"My crew — forgive me, allow me to introduce us. You are acquainted with Garrett, my bookkeeper. Arthur—" he gestured to the sturdy man that had been busy with the ship and still was "—is my quartermaster. Fisher downstairs is the best cook out of all of us, though she still tries to me give an attitude about it. And I—" he brought a fist to his chest, standing proudly "—am Captain Jackadyle Hancock! But my friends just call me Jack. Our fine ship here is the Winter's End."
She wasn't sure if that was an invitation or not.
"I am Blue," she said with far less bravado. Gesturing to the ship underfoot, she added, "This is the Forlorn Phoenix. My hired help is Z."
No one ever seemed to know what to think of his name. This one, however, seemed to think better of commenting on it.
"If you do not need us to get out of your way, then how might we assist you?"
The obvious answer would be for them to assist the crew of the Winter's End in killing their bounty target, of which there must have been multiple. Or Z was right and they had more nefarious intentions.
"Your ship has been here for a time?" he inquired.
Blue nodded her head and said, "We have been here for about a day. We have set foot on the island and not spotted any recent skeletal activity. If you have a bounty here, they are well hidden."
"Well, it's not a typical bounty that we seek, you see," Captain Jackadyle began; Blue's skin started to crawl. "Have you checked the edges of the island and the islets?"
"No. We had no idea that we were looking for anything when we arrived," she said.
"That makes sense," he said, nodding after a moment.
"What about your target is not typical?" Blue asked, making note of Fisher reappearing on the deck. She and Arthur came together at the hatch opening and spoke quietly to each other.
"Well, y'see, it isn't the skeletons that we're after but instead something they have," he explained.
"How curious." Blue had never heard of such a thing. It didn't seem totally ridiculous that a crew of skeletons might have stolen something of value and that a crew would task themselves with recovering it, but something seemed off.
Before she could respond, a sharp, "Nuh uh," came from Z as he climbed the final steps to stop on the main-deck of the Forlorn Phoenix, a hand on his cutlass' grip. "Ev'ryone jus' writes off whatever skellies make off with," he started; "Either y're lyin' or what they have is worth a fortune."
The three aboard the galleon seemed taken aback by his aggression. Blue was slightly annoyed, but…
"Forgive my partner's brashness, but I find that I agree with him," she said carefully. "I have not heard of any sort of mission like the one you say you are on."
"Well, we know a group of skeletons are supposed to be here, and we know they possess something of priceless nature—"
Blue cut him off so Z didn't. "Pricelessly valuable or worthless?" She could not hide her suspicion now and she detected annoyance in Jackadyle's expression.
"We would greatly appreciate your assistance."
"I think we've got better things t' do with our time," Z said.
Sensing tension, Blue raised a hand at her shipmate.
"We were not asking," Hancock clarified.
Z had halfway drawn his cutlass when he and Blue eyed each other, the two crewmen of the galleon having approached their cannons. Their aiming point would not have been optimal, but the ships had enough distance between their bows that they could still adequately blast the sloop apart.
"I'm certain that we can come to an agreement," Blue said, forcing a pleasant smile as Z reluctantly sheathed his weapon.
"Of course!" Hancock said with a clap of his hands. "Fisher, would you fetch the plank—"
"Nonsense," Blue interjected; "It is not that far."
Decisively, she made the small jump from the sloop's high stern to the galleon's ladder. She ignored everyone's surprise — she only aimed to keep the peace and get this over with. Even still, she could just hear the scolding that Z surely wanted to give her. He could complain later, she decided, setting foot on the deck of the larger ship whose captain directed her to the cabin.
Through the door lie a fairly simple room. The furnishings were as to be expected: a bed in the corner and a nice desk with a matching chair occupied the room, as well as a waist-high cabinet that contained who-knew-what to the desk's side. On the other side was a shelving unit, full of documents and books and perhaps some still unopened voyages. Atop the cabinet was a model galleon in great likeness to the Winter's End that she found a little self-indulgent.
Between the desk and shelf stood Garrett, hunched over a small book. Though she didn't have a good look at it, Blue swore that it was full of scribbled markings, perhaps drawings even, but definitely not proper writing. The bookkeeper stood upright as though to greet her before surprise crossed his features. She couldn't pinpoint what exact sort of expression he wore after that.
Behind her, Blue heard someone's footsteps. She was going to ignore that and get on with a greeting and helpful question to Garrett when Arthur stepped to her side, taking one of her arms in his grip and beginning to tie a rope about her wrists. A moment later and Blue was quietly embarrassed at how unperturbed she was at this.
"Boss doesn't want you gettin' int' any trouble while you're sailin' with us."
"… of course."
Something about his expression now told her that Garrett didn't approve, though neither did he make any attempt to stop it.
Blue patiently waited for Arthur to finish his task. His knots were quick and sturdy, as to be expected. She only gave him a sideways glance when he took her sword from her and stepped back out of the room.
If she had to guess, the noises she heard outside were those of Z being subdued. His response right off the rip had been a rough one; she did not doubt that he would refuse to cooperate in the slightest. They could simply kill him, she supposed, but perhaps they worried that might endanger her compliance. Not only that but there would be no telling when he would return from his trip to the Sea of the Damned. No… No, it made plenty of sense to not kill him.
As to why this crew needed the extra hands so badly, Blue was still uncertain. Her eyes went to Garrett, who had also paused at the sounds outside. He noticed her looking but said nothing as Hancock opened the door and stepped inside.
"Garrett! Ready for our next task?" he inquired, acting as though all was well. His clothing was slightly lopsided now, his golden hair less laid back.
"Ah, yes sir. Shall I go onto the island with Arthur?"
"You shall. Take care of it in one go, aye?"
"Aye," Garrett responded, understanding the previous statement to be an order, not a mere suggestion. He closed the book and took it in hand. "Just in case," he stated before stepping out. He spared Blue another glance when he passed her.
Blue took a moment to consider how withdrawn the bookkeeper had become before turning her attention to Hancock. She lifted her bound wrists up into view. "Is this really necessary?"
"I'm afraid so, my dear," Hancock responded as he sat at the desk. He motioned for her to sit at the foot of the bed.
As she sat, she contemplated things. Blue happened to agree; with how quickly the situation had degraded, this crew had needed more control over it if they wanted any sort of help. She considered this, taking care to sit carefully so her dagger stayed concealed.
"Our quest is not a typical one, and as such we require extra hands to aid us in completing it. You would be right to refuse us, but we cannot afford to wait for others to offer their services," he said.
That raised some questions. Before she could voice any, Hancock picked up a skull that was resting on the desk and inspected it. So strange it was with the brilliant purple crystalline structure atop it that Blue had not recognised it as a skull, instead assumed it was a decorative piece. It was quite unlike anything that she had ever seen.
"Another 'priceless' item?" she asked, not quite able to help her curiosity.
"Aye, it is," he said, putting it back down. "Without its mate, it is worthless. But when the two come together, they are far more valuable than any mere trinket."
Blue wondered what that could mean until she concluded that the items must fit into each other to become a single unique piece. She decided that must have been the case until something else crossed her mind: magic. Any item could be unbelievably valuable if it could do something, she figured. Now, just what that could have been eluded her and neither did she ask.
Another thought did cross Blue's mind: it was a damned shame that this whole situation came down to being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It didn't help matters at all that she couldn't figure out what the crew could require aid with if they could handle a particularly stealthy group of skeletons.
The more Blue thought about it, the more suspicious she became.
The chalice was interesting, but less so than the skull was. Though she had never seen anything that compared to either of the items, Blue found a cup with an upside-down skull for a vessel rather drab. It certainly was pretty, she had to admit, but drab, too.
Some of the crew was at the map table. Hancock had said something about map coordinates that she hadn't heard clearly before he disappeared downstairs with a freshly returned Garrett who had drying blood coating one side of his face and looked far more ragged than Arthur did. The man must not have been the greatest fighter, she wagered.
Arthur, currently, was putting his rope-wrangling skills to use. A set of two ropes making four lines had been fastened around the bowsprit of the Forlorn Phoenix and then tied to the railing behind the captain's cabin. Blue was certain that towing the sloop was so that she and Z couldn't escape if they caught a death or simply swam into the waiting arms of a merfolk, but it also occurred to her that she had never heard of anything like this happening in the Sea of Thieves. Many of the pirates here were fairly docile compared to the waters on the other side of the Devil's Shroud, yet even the most ill-behaved pirates here did not take hostages. Any pirates whose names had become infamous had done so by being particularly aggressive, killing pirates and sinking their ships with efficiency, not stealing them away.
Current ongoings were indeed very strange.
In the time she spent waiting — for what she did not know — she had made herself more comfortable, now sitting in the middle of the bed with her legs crossed and back against the wall. The door had been left open so she was watched the entire time, even before she had moved; when she had finally done that, Arthur had come through to start on the tow ropes. As amusing as it had been to fantasise about how she would kill each of the crew for their misgivings, she was becoming anxious.
Hancock and Garrett returned to the room proper a short time later, the latter having cleaned himself up some. He busied himself with a book at the desk while his captain stepped outside to inspect the towlines. He and Arthur returned to the room together, though the latter then continued on and stepped back onto the main-deck.
"Garrett," Hancock started; "We are going to begin to our destination. Make sure our guest is comfortable, will you?"
Garrett simply nodded before his captain stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Blue forced her expression to stay impassive despite her frustration at being watched so closely.
When she grew tired of the silence and of Garrett glancing up at her from it, she asked, "What is so important in that book?"
"It contains a record of…" He sighed. "Well, I am not sure how much I should tell you. The cap'n wishes you to only know what you must, and that is very little."
Blue raised her bound hands. "I believe the contents of that book and whatever it has you doing are quite important."
He looked at her and sighed, visibly annoyed though she didn't think with her.
"I can get you something to eat if it pleases you," he suggested instead.
They hadn't been allotted an opportunity to eat breakfast. They. She wondered what Z's status was like, then impressed upon herself that there was nothing to be done about him until she took care of herself.
"I would appreciate that."
He nodded. "I'm sure we can spare something." He looked up from the book to the door, staying still for a moment before getting up and heading over to her. "The cap'n also wishes for me to go over your possessions."
They looked at each other for a long moment before Garrett sighed.
"Look, miss, this will be much easier if you just tell me what you have on your person. I've no interest in forcing my hands upon you."
He sounded genuine enough. Still, Blue was deeply frustrated at being backed into a corner as she was. She could simply give up her dagger, or she could try striking now as the cut out on the top of the blade would be perfect for relieving him of his own blade, but Blue rarely fought with just her dagger, and never in such a desperate situation. The noise would surely attract unwanted attention, too…
With a sigh, she lifted her arms and twisted around to one side, displaying the grip of her dagger to him. He made a small noise before taking it off her belt.
"What an exquisite weapon," he commented before storing it away in a drawer of the desk.
With nothing else to do, Blue demanded, "What is it that you need us for?"
Slightly taken aback, Garrett stared at her, contemplating his response. He drummed the fingers of one hand along the backrest of the chair. "It is… a fight."
Blue could not fathom what sort of fight could be worse than a horde of skeletons and require such drastic actions. Still… "Best you feed me then, hmm?"
He nodded and made his way to the door, opening it. Rather than personally retrieving something for her, he called for Fisher to bring something up. Of course, she wouldn't be left alone and Blue couldn't help grinding her teeth some.
An annoying amount of time passed. Garrett was content to sit at the desk and go through books and documents — she stopped counting how many he thumbed through — and Blue stayed quiet. When Fisher appeared with a coconut in hand, the woman had tried to give it to her whole and uncracked until Garrett glowered at her for being so cruel.
All of this bothered Blue some. Captain Hancock had been happy to put on a smile and pleasant act until there was a sign that she and Z would not cooperate willingly with them. Arthur and Fisher had been impassive from the start and more than willing to get rough with them, perhaps even eager to carry out those commands. Garrett, however…
"What sort of fight is it to be?" she inquired when they were alone again.
Garrett looked up from the pair of documents in his hands. "What sort of— ah." He looked unhappy. "A tough sort of fight," he explained, looking back to the papers.
Before Blue could push the matter, Hancock came through the door. He gave her a nod of acknowledgement before addressing his bookkeeper.
"Have you made any progress in our plans, Garrett?"
He nodded, quickly saying, "I have some ideas. I have found nothing specific to our situation, nor any particular, eh, plans. But I have some ideas. I would like to go through our supplies before I suggest any, though."
"Very well, make it so," Hancock said, nodding. He took Garrett's place in the chair when he could, glancing over everything strewn across the tabletop. "I trust you're comfortable?" he asked, not even looking at Blue. She wondered if he could hear her glaring at him. "No matter. We will reach Old Faithful Isle by sundown. First thing at sunrise, we will begin."
"Begin what?"
"You see," he started, adjusting how he sat; "These items—" he gestured to the skull and chalice "—are for a ritual, of which you must partake in. We will—"
"If you need a pretty maiden in distress to sacrifice—"
He laughed. Blue wasn't sure this was so funny.
"No, no, my dear, it has nothing to do with your sex or disposition. We simply need someone to… focus things a bit."
She blinked. "Focus things?"
"I will explain more in the morning," he said, putting on a pleasant smile. "For now, I believe Garrett and my quartermaster would like to go over our supply situation."
Blue hated how few answers she had.
The cabin was dimly lit by a single lantern by the door that led out to the balcony. To no surprise, Blue had been unable to sleep very much, an expected result of the current situation and being hobbled for the night. Now she could hear the island birds waking up.
As it had been they who alternated spending time in the cabin with Blue, Hancock and Garrett had refused to tell her anything more about the situation. Hancock, whose pleasant demeanour had slipped away more and more throughout the day, had been particularly interested in keeping a close eye on her after learning of her dagger while Garrett had spent much of his time going through documents. He still sat at the desk now, doing just that.
Rolling over from her right side, Blue sat up and looked at the man until he stopped what he was doing to look back.
"Were you up all night?" she asked, bewildered.
He sighed and nodded. "I'm too… too nervous to sleep. My mind is running faster than a brigantine in a crosswind."
That, in turn, made her nervous.
"I've been thinking."
"Careful with that," Blue said unkindly.
Garrett took no offence and chuckled. "I've been thinking," he repeated, the words trailing as he stood. He made his way to the main door of the cabin and peered through it — for it was still left ajar — and stepped away when he was satisfied with whatever he did or did not see.
"What have you been thinking about?" Blue finally asked, impatient.
"It isn't right, what we're doing."
She blinked. "You mean…"
He gestured in general to her and her sloop.
"I could have told you that."
He closed his eyes and his posture slumped some before he forced a sad little smile. To her surprise, he turned and left the cabin. Blue was so dumbstruck that she didn't immediately heed the opportunity to try to rifle through the desk right away and retrieve her dagger; by the time she thought to, she could hear footsteps nearby. Instead, she waited.
When Garrett came back, it struck Blue that it was unusual to see white clothing like the set he had returned with. A sword was included underneath the set.
"I need you to put this on."
Blue recoiled at that.
"Now, I'm gonna let you do it yourself. I need to untie your hands anyway for new ropes — Jack wanted to use chain but I convinced him otherwise. They're better put to use on Graymarrow anyway."
She stayed still as he approached her, placing the items in her lap. It took a long moment for her to recognise that word as a name, one she had realised she had overheard of before in taverns but knew almost nothing about. Garrett took her wrists into his grip and started working on the knots.
"Graymarrow?" she asked.
Garrett heaved a great sigh. "Yes, Graymarrow. That is who we're after here."
"That is some skeleton captain, I presume?"
He gave her a look that told her she was wrong even before he shook his head. "Haven't been 'round here very long, have you?"
"Long enough," she muttered, giving him a sideways glance.
The knot was proving to be a hassle. Frustrated, Garrett drew his cutlass and used the very tip of it to slice the knot off. From there, he unwound the rope binding her wrists together and then did the same for her ankles. When Blue proved docile while a weapon was brandished at her, slowly and steadily getting to her feet, he stepped over to the desk and leaned back on it, putting a comfortable amount of space between them.
"If you don't know who Graymarrow is, count yourself lucky until yesterday."
"I've heard the name before," she said sharply. When that proved to make her a fool, she looked away and added, "I've heard others repeating the name. Sometimes they had stories to tell, too." She paused. "They seemed like very silly stories. But according to you… They were true, weren't they?"
He nodded. "Most likely. Graymarrow is a Skeleton Lord who takes down anyone who gets in his way, marooning their souls so they can never exact their vengeance upon him."
Blue wasn't quite sure what any of that meant. "Explain."
Frustrated, Garrett took a breath in and held it for a moment. He kept his eyes on the floor when she moved to begin getting changed.
"You've certainly met skeletons before. Their gravelly voices speak no words,; they only emit growls and raspy breaths. They do nothing but try to kill you. Lords are different. They've kept their consciousness. They can think and act just as they did in life, but they've become a twisted abomination that would prefer to kill you rather than hold a conversation. Most notably, however, Graymarrow has learned some foul magic to bind souls to objects."
That must have been what he meant by marooning souls. "That's why you brought us here," she said, beginning to realise the severity of what had just been shared with her. She stared at the shirt she was about to put on. "But, why?"
Garrett lifted his chin to look out the door before settling back to staring at the floor. "Graymarrow hunted down a crew for a treasure they possessed. The less I tell you, the better, I think. But even after scuttling their own ship, Graymarrow hunted for them, and when he found and killed them, he bound their souls and left them on the island he found them on, taking the treasure he sought in the process. One of our ships discovered their story and freed their souls.
"The captain of the slaughtered crew learned a fair amount while they were hunted. With that information, we discovered that Graymarrow had a fair number of crews working under him. Two of them were tasked with — well, it's not important. It shouldn't be, at least, not if we're successful. The point is, we retrieved the two items required to wake Graymarrow from his rest, something that the M— the other ship's captain discovered he must do despite his immortal nature."
Blue pondered this information for a moment. "The plan is to… ambush him while he sleeps?"
"Yes."
"That seems…" Low, she wanted to say. Cowardly and without honour. But here in this Sea of Thieves, pirates could get second and third and fourth and even more chances at life. To cross Graymarrow, it seemed, was to forfeit that opportunity, to forfeit an afterlife, even. If a Skeleton Lord was that dangerous…
"… No wonder you lot captured us…"
Garrett sighed once more. "Yes. It is— … yes. When we took on this task and gathered the information to do so, Jack, he… I've never seen that man so pale, so… afraid."
"Why take this job then?"
The other was quiet for a long time, long enough that Blue finished dressing in the uniform she had been given. She was just about to inspect the sword when Garrett looked up at her. She stayed still.
"It seemed like a simple task, to pick up what our alliance-mates had started and finish it. When we learned a little more, it seemed right, like something that needed to be done. When we met up with them and—" He stopped and sighed. "… when we met up with them, Jack tore them a new arse for being so… so…"
"So scared?" Blue asked, raising a brow.
"Yes. But rightly so. The—" Garrett stopped himself. "… they wanted us to join together in proper for this voyage. That was the best idea. And then Jack told them that they weren't worthy of… of anything, really, if that was how they were going to be. But then we looked through their notes and the other ship's notes and… and something in Jack cracked. He normally runs right into things without a second thought, but the more and more we learned, the more nervous he got. Oh, he tried to hide it from us, but the rest of us were even more anxious about this. Jack made a joke about getting some help at any cost and the other two… well, they didn't think of it like that, and then he did, too. I thought they were joking, that they couldn't be serious…"
"And yet here we are."
He nodded before approaching her. Her expression must have betrayed her.
"I'd keep that blade sheathed, if I were you. It's seen better days."
She looked from him to it and then back to him. Then: "… I don't get it."
"Get what?"
"Why give me this? Why tell me everything?"
"Because as afraid I am," he started, putting the sword on her belt for her; "I am more ashamed that it's come to this."
This new rope that he began working onto her wrists was set up differently; Blue immediately realised that she was to still have some range of motion with her arms. She would, however, not be able to do anything useful such as unsheathing the sword she had been given, which was apparently not even worth doing, she reminded herself. This was frustrating.
"And yet it hasn't stopped you—"
"Girl, you do not understand what is to come in mere minutes."
"I think I do."
He scowled. "Graymarrow is a menace, but we have concocted a plan that should allow us to fell him. Before you are to place the ritual items, we will line the battlefield with gunpowder kegs, spare ropes and chains to snare him, to stop him from moving and make him an easy target to blast apart. Your part in starting that for us will be to blast him into the tripwires with the first gunpowder keg."
"It sounds as though I am not to survive that."
He shook his head. "Jackadyle doesn't really care if you do or not. It's not a terrible plan, either, but the use of an unwilling scapegoat is shameful."
"So why tell me all of this if you're not going to do anything about it?"
Garrett looked up from her bindings to stare back at her before taking a deep breath. He turned and made his way back over to the desk and she thought that would be the last of their conversation until she spied him rifling through the drawer. He stepped back over to her with her dagger in hand and wrapped his hands around her waist to set it back in place as he'd found it.
"I don't think you've put this on quite right," he started, referring to her open, untucked jacket.
"Old habits."
"Good habits, I take it." He gave the dagger a small tug to make sure it was set well before closing her jacket by two buttons and taking a step back. He looked about her and then nodded. "Well hidden."
"If I may…" Blue started. When he nodded for her to continue, she said: "That blade is more a tool than weapon. And if this sword is as old as you—"
"It is a fine blade. The sheath is not."
Blue blinked. "You lied."
He chuckled. "Yes, I did, miss. I'm not the best fighter."
She could appreciate that, though she still felt oddly betrayed. "An old, shitty sheath for a good blade?"
"Precisely. Jack didn't want to equip you with any weapons at all, but I insisted on something so you look convincing to Graymarrow."
She hated that, but it was smart. "Then I ought to have a gun as well, shouldn't I?"
Garrett gave her a sideways glance before sighing. "Do you prefer musket or pistol?"
"Musket."
He nodded. "I will retrieve one when Jack comes up to relieve me of my watch duty."
"What, you don't trust me not to make a mess of things?"
He couldn't help a small, amused grin. "I don't. And I also don't want to ruin this ruse by mucking up what I've been told to do. If they catch wind of this, they'll clap me in irons next. Wait to cut those ropes until the time is right, hmm?"
That made sense she supposed. Uncertain of what else to do, Blue sat on the edge of the bed, resisting the urge to fiddle with her new restraints. The whole situation was awful but at least one of the crew had enough of a conscious to fill her in on important details and arm her.
It was a small while until Hancock finally showed up. He didn't look as though he had slept very much — Blue supposed no one on the ships had. She could easily imagine Z spending all night angrily staring at a wall in the hold of the Forlorn Phoenix and that made her wonder if he was being watched as carefully as she was. She'd find out eventually, she supposed.
Garrett and Hancock went over Blue's current state, the bookkeeper explaining that he thought it would be a good idea to also put a musket on her back so her appearance didn't immediately tip Graymarrow off to their plan. Hancock took the bait. Just as expected, he stayed in the room with Blue while Garrett was gone. Still, the captain looked… rattled. Yesterday morning he passed for a fine gentleman of perhaps too much swagger; now he looked as though he had aged ten years.
Blue refrained from saying anything to him, fearing the possibility of ruining the plans she and Garrett had made, and when he returned, the captain left. As discussed, an Eye of Reach was placed on her back, further hiding the dagger's presence.
"Now, we can't spare any ammunition—"
"I have some in the pocket of my other trousers."
Said ammunition was transferred to the pair she currently wore.
"It's better than nothing," Garrett said. Blue agreed. "Now then," he started, standing up and looking about the room. "I suppose there is no delaying it further. Although…"
She agreed with him — they had done their best to meander, but… "Although what?"
Garrett leaned over the desk, scanning everything strewn about it. He grabbed a couple of books and made a stack of three of them.
"Should things… Should they go well, I hope we simply part ways." He paused, tapping a finger on the desk. Both of them wondered if Hancock would allow for that. Garrett shook his head. "If things do not and we are all slain, then there will be nothing to discuss. But if you prove victorious and we are not, I want you to take these," he said, gesturing to the books. "They have vital information to this mission in them. It is where all the captains recorded all that they knew, and where I have been chronicling our journeys. It would be a damned shame for all of it to go to waste."
Blue looked over at him, the curiosity she felt outweighed by growing concern. "If this is all so dangerous, why do it at all? Why face Graymarrow?"
He smiled and shook his head. "Graymarrow binds the souls of all he comes across. How could we not? It is a perfect opportunity to weaken an otherwise invincible enemy to all of the Sea of Thieves."
She recoiled slightly. "… you're really going forward with this…?"
Another sigh. "As much as I hate how Jack's handled this, I'd hate more to be responsible for not trying to stop Graymarrow when we had a chance."
They looked at each other for a moment before he picked up the skull and chalice, making his way over to her. Blue awkwardly took them, a buzzing panic beginning to fill her chest.
"Come now."
