Face Of The Monster

~13~

Lillian couldn't help her listlessness. As she stalked up and down the deck, she thought to herself how unpleasant she must seem, but at the same time could not force herself to stop it and breathe.

Who could? Around the next bend was something that could only be described as certain danger, probable harm, possible peril. There was no avoiding it. They would have to run the gauntlet soon ready or not.

Lillian recalled the choppy waters conveyed on the map, formidable and gray. These weren't the spouts of her anxiety, though. The source of her fear was the tiny flag illustrated on one side of the strait, a familiar, terrifying thing that made Lillian want to turn the entire ship around and leave their travels behind.

The emblem on the flag was a grotesque interpretation of the skull and crossbones, its teeth stained red as blood. And rather than being crossed, closed like a gate beneath the skull, the bones sat on either side like pillars on a building.

Lillian knew that flag, and so did the rest of the crew. All of them agreed that they did not at all want to encounter a ship with this flag hoisted above its sails, but if it was truly unavoidable, they would be able to deal with it.

Why were the pirates of Crystal Sky Strait so abominably formidable? Because they couldn't be fault like most enemies. They were guards, gates in and of themselves. In combat, no one stood a chance against them. The only way to come out unscathed was to play their game.

They were sick-minded, those pirates, but awfully smart. Their job was simple and, as it was, difficult to accomplish. See, their job was not simply to stop ships from sailing through the strait; rather, they were meant to decide which ships could be granted passage and which could not.

Therefore, their jobs became games of character judgment.

Lillian felt herself shivering with dread as she stalked across the deck once more. The Crystal Pirates had strange tactics, torturous tactics. Lillian couldn't blame them, of course. How else could you know that a person's intentions were sincere aside from hurting someone they loved? How else could you know that they were capable of crying real tears of making real sacrifices?

This was why she dreaded being intercepted by this particularly vicious band of sea scoundrels. What if she wasn't one of the people they were looking for? What if she proved too selfish, too unfeeling to be granted passage. What if this test revealed all this about her and exposed her to the crew?

She felt a gentle breath on the back of her neck. Lillian froze, hands closing around her waist. Her entire body broke into a cold sweat.

"Good morning, my love," Gabriel said. Still not noticing the rigidness of her posture, he propped his chin on her shoulder and placed a kiss on her neck. "Crew says you've been a little uptight. It's putting everyone off a little, you know that?"

Suddenly, her mind was full of sights and smells from the cove, scents of rum and grass and the sweetly rotting aroma of the woods. She saw the dark, forbidding trees with their warning hands, the man, leading her deeper in. Gabe's hands felt like talons sinking into her skin. Lillian jerked her body away, trying not to cry out with horror.

"Aw, don't be like this, love," He said, trying to take Lillian in his arms again.

She shoved him firmly back, her hands shaking with agitation. "I'm sorry," she breathed. "I just need to be alone for a minute, if you don't mind."

"Of course not," he said, stepping back from her. "Of course."

She waited for him to cross the deck before she snuck down below, already digging through her pocket for the coin. She had no idea how exactly to summon Agatha, but she remembered it had something to do with this bit of metal. She imagined that the woman, in all her enigmatic glory, would be able to tell she was needed.

But the coin just sat there on the floor, quietly, uselessly, still.