Six

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"Lass," I raise my head at John's voice, sitting up and straightening my crumpled up shirt. "We're goin' down," he continues, "Meltdown shot their longboat outta the sky, saw it crash on the planet."

"Is Jim alright?" I ask, then at his frown I add: "I mean, because of the map."

"I don't know," he says, still frowning, "but you'd be best to watch yourself."

I nod, sitting back as the crew jump aboard, taking up positions on the benches.

The descent is smooth, and at any other time I would have admired the strange beauty of the planet. All around us, lumpy mushroom-like plants reach for the clouded sky, vines and moss coating the ground. But this isn't any other time, and all I can really think about is Jim. I've come to accept that he probably heard me say that he was nothing to me, which is one of the biggest lies I've ever told. Maybe if we find him and the others I can explain.

We trek through the odd forest (forest?) for around an hour before we finally come to a large, cleared area. Across the plain is an odd sort of building with a large hole in the front of it. On closer inspection, it looks like a very skinny person is standing in the doorway, waving at us.

"Hey fellas!" it shouts, jumping up and down. "Hey, we're over here!"

The crew rush forwards, guns drawn and begin firing at the figure, who quickly ducks out of sight. Someone is shooting back at us from the entrance, and I catch my breath. Is that where they're hiding? Is Jim in there?

"Stop wastin' your fire!" John yells, limping up to the rest of us. The gunshots stop among mutters of disappointment as the old cook ties a piece of white cloth onto a stick, holding it high. "Hello up there!" he calls, heaving himself up the hill towards the building. "Jimbo? If ah, if it's alrigh' with the Captain, I'd like a short word wit' ya. No tricks, just a little palaver."

I scramble up beside him, shielding my eyes against the brightness of the sky as I stare up at the house. "Nice place," I note dryly, indicating the copious amounts of vines spilling from the entrance. Actually, I quite like the way it looks.

"Are you sure that it's a good idea for you to be here?" John asks carefully, glancing at the knife handles visible on my belt. I don't say anything, just pull my shirt down and square my shoulders, lifting my chin.

After a few seconds of waiting, I spot someone clamber over the edge of the hole in the front of the building, sliding down the ivy and landing gracefully a few metres away from us. Jim dusts his hands, then walks towards John and I cautiously. I can see the handle of a gun at his waist.

"Hey Morph," I smile as the little guy zooms towards me, swirling around my finger.

"Ah, I wondered where you'd nicked off to!" John says as Morph moves to him, cooing brightly. He sits down on a rock, groaning and rubbing at his damaged leg. "Oh, this old leg's downright snarky since that game o' tag we had in the galley, 'ey?" he chuckles.

Jim glares at him. His eyes flick briefly to me, then to my hand, then away again. I press my lips firmly together, keeping my face as neutral as possible.

"Whatever you heard back there," John begins, seriously this time, "at least the part concerning you, I didn't mean a word of it. If that blood-thirsty lot had thought I'd gone soft, they'd 'ave gutted us both!"

Still, Jim doesn't say anything.

"Now listen to me," John moves closer, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "If we play our cards right, all three of us can walk away from this rich as kings!"

"Yeah?" Jim asks, looking genuinely interested.

John smiles. "You get us that map, and an even portion of the treasure is yours! 'ey?" he extends a hand, still grinning.

"Boy," Jim sighs, and his face darkens. "You are really something. All that talk of greatness, light coming off my sails, what a joke."

"Well see here, Jimbo!"

"At least you taught me one thing!" he continues, "stick to it, right? Well that's just want I'm gonna do. I'm gonna makes sure that you never see one doubloon of my treasure! Either of you!" he turns to me, but looks away quickly.

"That treasure is owed me, by thunder—"

"Well good luck tryna find it without my map, by thunder!"

"Oh, you still don't know how to pick your fights, do you boy?" the cook growls. "Now, mark me. Either I get that map by dawn tomorrow, or so help me, I'll use the ship's cannons to blast you all to kingdom come!" he turns, calling sharply: "come on, lass. Morph! Blast it." He curses when Morph stays with Jim.

I start after him, but stop. He doesn't notice, he's too angry.

"You better go, right?" Jim says, glaring at my feet. "Gotta follow your master."

"I—" I stop, lost for words. I feel like I might throw up again, only there's nothing left in my stomach.

"Or are you gonna throw another knife at me? Maybe you won't miss this time."

"I hit exactly what I was aiming at, when I was aiming at it," I hiss.

"Yeah, me!" he shouts, stepping forwards. "You know, I really thought we had something, (Y/N). But I'm nothing to you, right? Just a way to get the treasure?"

I should tell him that that was a lie. I should tell him that I'm sorry, that I didn't mean anything I said, and that he means way more than is rational to me. I should tell him that if I had to choose between him and that treasure, I'd choose him every time. I should tell him the truth.

But I don't. Instead, I withdraw a knife from my belt and toss it to him, spinning it so that he can catch it by the handle. He does, staring down at it then back at me. 

"Keep it," I say, horrified to hear the tremor in my own voice. I turn around before he can see the tears in my eyes, walking with as much dignity as I can muster after John.

"(Y/N)—" he starts, but I cut him off.

"Gotta follow my master." I spit. 

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