The Immortal Chronicles | | b o o k 2

2. shipwrecked strangers

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IMMORTAL CHRONICLES : BOOK ONE : attus sally

. . .

There were few things in life Attus Sally loved more than his wife, his ship, and a full bottle of whiskey. In fact, Attus could count them all on one hand and sleep peacefully on it. That was what he planned on doing that night, seeing as it was the first time in two weeks he'd spent on land.

The Sally East crew had stumbled across an island on their way back to the mainland after a month out by the Trench whaling and catching a great ton of shark meat. They'd be set for months if they got back before it all spoiled, but Attus decided one day on land wouldn't hurt them a bit.

Every once in a great while he stumbled across islands like these—out in the open, inhabited by no one except exotic birds and land critters that looked like they walked straight out of the ocean. Actually, he enjoyed exploring islands like these enough to catch and display the smaller of the critters in his captain's quarters—he had an entire collection started behind the glass frame on his wall.

That evening, as the humid air collected sweat over his brow, Attus sat perched on a flat rock out in the tides, a lamp held up in one hand, and a crude net in the other. The sea critters were always friendly around this time of day, and gathered in the diminishing light to sun themselves one last time. When he swept the lamp over the water, the light caught on the seafloor surface a foot below him, and the curious fish and sea life settling on the bottom. The fish sped away from the light, which left him with an open window to gently dip the net into the water, and scoop up a miniature ancient sea creature from where it lay burrowed halfway in the sand.

"Ya caugh' 'em good, ey?" Attus' firsthand mate, Mose, commented from behind him. He was standing aimlessly in the water, just where Attus said he should wait or else his shadow would scare the creatures away.

"Yeah. Ya got the jar?" he asked, raising the net slightly out of the water. Mose unscrewed the cap on the jar and held it out, allowing the creature to be plopped in. It had pinchers, the type that could cut a man's finger something awful, but at the moment it was too shocked to move properly, especially when it's minuscule legs were caught in the holes.

After the critter was caught, Attus took it up in his hands and held it against the light of his lantern. It didn't seem at all panicked, and he took that as a good sign.

A rather large tide carried in a layer of foam, and caught Mose around hips. He staggered back a bit and caught himself, and Attus jumped from the rock to land beside him. "How many's that?" Mose asked, tapping the side of the jar with a finger.

"Fifty-eight," he replied. "I s'pose I'm runnin' outta room in there."

"Need bigger quarters if ya ask me," Mose said with a laugh. He clapped Attus on the back and declared he was going to cook up one of the fish by the fire. Attus watched him go, and stood with his ankles in the water and his toes in the sand until he realized that the water was cold enough to make his feet numb.

On land, he marched over to one of the boats and placed his newest find in a cloth pouch he brought with him to land. He could smell smoke from here, and the aroma of cooked fish over a fire. He hadn't had a good meal in weeks, and when he approached the pit, his crew members were shouting left and right, "Ey, Cap'ain!" "How's it goin' Cap'ain?" "Ya catch anythin', Captain?"

He swung his feet over one of the logs and sat alongside a member of his crew who held out a speared fish, it's innards gutted and the scales shaved off. It was a toasty golden color, and after pulling out the spine, Attus savored the flavor on his tongue and as they filled his stomach.