Jamie sucked in his breath, not wanting to make any discernible sounds as he carefully stared through the little crack between the door and the wall and into the next room, wherein the most of the crew of The Persephone were gathered. Instinctively he reached up towards his neck, whereupon hung that disgusting shriveled head like a weighted necklace. He was startled, for he had not until now registered that the thing was there. He was positive that he had left the thing on the ship, in his sack, by mistake! How was it here adorning him now?
“That- what? The necklace?” Cook stammered in confusion. “Aye, I thought it peculiar and unsettling, but it’s the only possession that boy owns, so I thought nothing of it!”
Cheshie took a step nearer, her eyes wild and deranged. “Aye, but you know what? It showed me things! It had to have been that… thing! There’s no other explanation ‘fer it!”
The young girl had stepped uncomfortably close to the larger man in her babbling, and so he shoved her back wards harshly with both of his hands, and she stumbled until she caught herself on the edge of a table.
“Back off lass, ‘yer losin’ it!” Cook growled at her.
“I stole it from his pack! Aye, I admit that!” Cheshie replied in a raised voice so that all of the crewmates could hear. “Three days I had that bauble! ‘Fer two of them, I experienced nightmares, wicked and awful…”
A flush of cold shock came over Jamie there as he listened, remembering back to the last time he had seen her, for her eyes and skin had been sallow and gaunt as if she had not slept well! And the revelation that she had stolen from his private things filled him with an indignant fire, creating within his belly an ugly, muddy black feeling of discontentment.
“...but on that final day, I had put two-and-two together!” Cheshie continued. “I left that necklace as far away from myself as I could manage, an’ ‘fer once? I slept pleasant!”
The rest of the crew began to mumble beneath their breaths, eyeing each other with looks of bemusement or disbelief.
“It’s true!” Cheshie cried angrily, turning about as she did so in order to plead to the lot of them. “It’s true! I can prove it!”
“Alright lass,” Cook replied in a mocking tone. “-if ye’ve got proof, we’d all love to see or hear it!” He put out his arms, gesturing to the rest of the gathered men and women there. “Lay it on us.”
Then Cheshie grinned. Grinned like a fox, and she marched over to Cook so that she was unnervingly close once again, and so that she could whisper a thought that only she and he could hear.
Jamie, who was further from the two of them than any of the rest of the crew, strained his neck to lean in closer to the crack in the door as if it would somehow help him eavesdrop on their secret conspiring. As he did so however, he was surprised to find that he actually could hear what the two were whispering to each other... only not from the direction that they stood. He looked down at his torso from which the sound was coming, and he reached beneath his shirt to bring up that shrunken head closer to himself, for its mouth had cracked open and was moving! As the mouth moved, he heard from it come the voices of Cheshie and Cook, in small whispers tinted by some ethereal-sounding filter.
“Oh I saw things Cook…” Cheshie said to the larger man, menacingly. “I saw you put a logging axe between another man’s shoulderblades, before you dropped him down a well.”
Cook took a small step backwards, his face palid and ghastly with fright! “How the fuck d’you know ’bout that?” He demanded angrily.
Cheshie followed his step so that she remained close to his chest, well within range to whisper some more. “I could hear you arguing over your late mother’s inheritance, and I saw you chop up your own brother for only a handful of old gems and jewelry!”
Cook shoved the smaller girl to the floor harshly, who quickly scrambled up back to her feet, and then he squared his shoulders, looking about at the rest of the crew there, who had risen from their seats as well at the man’s sudden aggressive action. Cook looked back to Cheshie and scowled at her, but remained pale and perspiring from the shock of what he had just heard.
“It’s that necklace I tells you!” Cheshie said, more to everyone present than to Cook alone. “It shows him things! Things from our pasts! He might even be watching us right now!”
The crew began to mumble and clamor with worried, uncomfortable looks on their faces. All of these men had pasts, things they would much rather keep hidden and to themselves, and the thought of anybody, even a young Cabin Boy, having the ability to learn of these dark secrets shook them worse than the threat of any blade. Several of them looked over at Cook for answers, who did not return their gazes but continued to glare over at Cheshie.
“What would you have us do, then?” He demanded. “He’s jus’ a lad, after all!”
Cheshie did not immediately reply to the man, first reaching to the back of her belt and withdrawing a long, sharp, and somewhat familiar-looking dagger.
“Well if age is the issue, then I can just take care of the little bastard for us!” She mused with a mischievous grin, and much to Jamie’s dismay. “All you would have to do is let it happen, and not to stop me... like you did the other day!”
A sudden gasp caused every man and woman within the room to startle! All of the eyes shot over towards the doorway, wherein Jamie had been hiding and listening intently. Only after a beat of silence did the young Cabin Boy realize that the sound in question had come from his own chest, and that they were all staring over at him, alerted to his presence! Without another thought, Jamie took off into a run, and no sooner had he than did he hear everyone in that room clamber up to take after him!
“It’s that facking Cabin Boy!” Cheshie shouted, enraged.
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Cook did not go to chase after him, but put out his hand after him and cried. “Lad! Wait!” Though it was in vain.
The building of the Inn was shaped in such a way that as Jamie hustled around the next corner towards where the doorway to the outside was situated, so too did the other hallway which connected the lobby to the common area, meaning that as he sprinted towards the doorway a wall of swarthy sailor men appeared across from him and moved just as swiftly to prevent his access. Jamie, however, was much practiced in slipping under, around, and through the gaps of his crewmates as they feverishly went about their work on the crowded deck, so as these few men came upon him to tackle or grab him, he was able to expertly slip his way through the doorway before taking off and disappearing into the night!
“Damn it all!” Cheshie cried in frustration from the doorway as he watched her quarry vanish. “He’s headin’ towards the ship! Getcher asses moving, or we’re all gonna hang!”
Heaving breaths and hurried footsteps cut through the heavy silent darkness of the night. Jamie ran with everything he had, even as his muscles began to burn and his throat grew so dry that he worried it might crack like clay. He descended down the cobbled road towards the pier, whereupon lay the only home that the young man had ever known. He had not a thought in his mind as he ran, though, he was drawn only for the fact that he knew not where else to go in this world. Not one of his senses detected any inkling of a pursuit from the rest of his crewmates, but he was sure in his guts that they remained hot on his trail regardless!
As the land ended and the wooden docks began, one of the old planks cracked and his leg fell through into the cold water below! Jamie yelped and struggled, but he eventually dragged himself out of this rut and back to his feet so that he could continue haggardly towards The Persephone which lay straight ahead. Up the drawbridge he went, and then onto the empty deck, only illuminated by faint moonlight. After a brief beat wherein he leaned over and propped himself upon his knees, breathing in deep breaths to steady himself, he then slowly began to creep forward across the deck, as if more of his unfriendly crewmates hid around every corner or mastpole, waiting to spring out upon him.
As he drew nearer to the center of the ship however, he began to feel... something. Some unearthly tug, not upon his body physically, but upon his heart and mind. Some force beckoned him on, perhaps it had for his entire flight, and only now had he come to realize it. Towards the stairs which led to the lower decks... down... down more, he followed this feeling as if he was being led along by another, held by the hand. Truthfully he already knew where his path led, though he prayed to himself that he was wrong now. Still, when he reached the bottom of the third flight, and descended into that dark cargo hold, his fears were all but confirmed. Now he was in a daze, light in the head, as if he was looking out from his mind at what his body was compelled to do, able to watch and wonder, but unable to control himself. Now that the majority of the hold had been emptied onto the docks, it was a simple glide over to that large, peculiar wooden crate which lay horizontal in the center of the space. Jamie set down the small dim oil lantern which he had retrieved from the entrance and then reached out and began to scratch and pry against the hard exterior, cracking and rending the nails of his fingers as he worked to pry one piece of the wood from another. There was no give to this crate, however, and all of his efforts appeared to be in vain. So engrossed in this task was the young man, though, that he did not detect the creaking of wood from behind him as a tall dark silhouette drew ever nearer...
Suddenly a hand, large and calloused, grasped him by his shoulder and pulled him around with a great strength! Jamie was startled and yelled, pushing against his unseen assailant, though rather than them falling back, Jamie felt himself instead sent crashing against the crate behind him.
“Jamie?” Asked a familiar voice with a tone of surprise.
The young man opened his eyes and looked up with alarm to see the face of Captain Voyagan now illuminated in the lantern’s light, his off-hand only just now leaving where it had lay at the neck of the cutlass at his hip!
“C-Captain!” Was all Jamie could stammer in reply.
Voyagan studied the lad suspiciously, and then his eyes fell upon the crate which the young man now lay propped up against, as well as the scratches from his fingernails which decorated its corners.
“What are you doin’ lad?” He demanded, sounding more exasperated than anything else. “You’re supposed to be on shore leave! Where is Cook? I thought you were staying with him!”
Jamie did not reply, staring up at his Captain silently and sheepishly. Voyagan sighed with exasperation, reaching a hand up to rub stress from his sellion. At this moment of weakness, however, the Cabin Boy unthinkingly lunged for the Captain’s belt, withdrawing his sword from its scabbard before Voyagan had the chance to react!
“What the devil?!” The Captain cried, retreating back two steps. “What is this, Jamie?”
“Sorry Captain…” Jamie said as he held out the tip between them to keep Voyagan at bay. Then, however, he whirled around and drove the tip of the sword between the cracks of the wooden panels of the crate, before wrenching with all of his might against it!
“Don’t..!” Voyagan cried, putting out his hands, before withdrawing it so that he could chew his nails nervously, worried for the integrity of his blade.
Crack!
The wooden panel finally gave way and fell to the floor, revealing was looked to be a flat stone surface behind it. Jamie let the sword clatter to the floor, where the Captain retrieved it swiftly in order to study for any damage. With both of his arms, the young man grasped upon the center panel and pulled as hard as he could, until it as well came free with a crack, and revealed more flat stone on the other side. Jamie looked back at the Captain with a look both serious and nervous.
“Help me with this.” He all but commanded.
The Captain looked no less confused than he ever had, but he moved forward to comply with his crewman anyways, no doubt curious to see what had brought his Cabin Boy to such a state. With the help of the much larger man, the two finally broke off the top panel of the crate, and both of their eyes grew wide as they looked upon its contents, for what stared back at them unblinkingly was a face. It was a face carved from stone, with blank eyes, and a simple stoic expression. Beneath the face were hands that were clasped together at the chest, and within the hands was carved a sword pointed downwards. This was a sarcophagus made for one of Noble standing!
“What the blazes..?” The Captain muttered to himself, skirting around the length of the large stone block to study it further. He looked over at Jamie for answers, but what returned was a gaze equally shocked and surprised by what they had found. “We deliver grains! And farming tools! When did something like... like this come aboard? How did I not hear of this?”
Jamie’s eyebrows raised the same as did his spirits in that moment. The Captain is not a part of this Plot! The young man realized. He can help me!
Swiftly, Jamie reached over the large stone coffin to grasp his Captain’s hand on the other side, letting that horrid necklace that he wore dangle over as he did so.
“I’ll tell you everything Cap’n! I’ll spill it all! But you’ve got to help me, first!” Jamie begged him desperately.
“Lad?” The Captain replied worriedly. “What’s goin’ on? Tell me about what?”
So entranced were the two of them now, that they did not detect the low, scraping sound as the lid of the sarcophagus began to slowly slide open beneath them.