Interlude: A Caught Fish Baits the Hook
Time no longer had meaning. Will had no way to know how many days had passed since his soul had been snatched from the broken body floating face down in the polluted, stagnant waters of the Bay. Had it been mere days, or weeks? To his tortured mind, it felt like months had passed. Each moment was separated from the next only by the visions that faded in and out of the green mists. Some were fleeting, just a recollection of a single moment from the past. Others were a series of events that spanned several days. He had lived through possible futures as well that had taken him to the end of a life not cut short by Pyke’s harpoon. None of it had given him any clues to how long he had been in this verdant hell, or when he might be allowed some measure of peace.
But, in spite of all the mental and emotional turmoil, Will had not been wasting his time. He still struggled with the pain that was the obvious intent of the unseen keeper of this prison. However, he had learned to see through the sadistic lies and into the mind of Thresh. That was the first insight he had gleaned. The name of the demon that held his soul was Thresh. The second, more important understanding was that Thresh was not a god. He was, or at least had been, a man. That one thought brought him an unreasonable amount of satisfaction because a man could be beaten. A man could be outplayed. A man could be destroyed. 1
Will now staked his hopes on that possibility. He had come to terms with the reality that escaping and returning to some semblance of his previous life was likely impossible. That sadness was greatly diminished though when he grasped that he could be instrumental in frustrating the schemes of his hated foe. He had never been a man who indulged in wanton vengeance, but to beat this sadist at his own game would be the crowning achievement of his existence. That it would be his last labor of love for his former Captain gave him that much more incentive to succeed.
Thresh aimed to exploit that love, not only to twist the psychic knife in the soul of his captive but to give him an advantage over Sarah Fortune. At some point that Will couldn’t quite pin down, the focus of the demented visions had shifted from pure torture, to attempts to gather insight into the Syren’s mistress, probing her vulnerabilities. In his thirst for information, Thresh had not only toned down the heart wrenching nature of his attacks but Will discovered, much to his surprise, that with a great deal of willpower, he could direct the content of the visions.
The temptation to simply salve his raw emotions by reliving the happiest moments of his partnership with Sarah Fortune was at times irresistible. He refused to give up those few moments of sanity even if Thresh did gain some useful leverage from them, the benefits to Will’s mental stability far outweighed that downside. Besides, there was value in reinforcing the idea her incredible resilience even after all that she had lost, to plant the seed of doubt in the mind of their adversary. To counterbalance that leverage, Will had begun to subtly introduce suggestions of weak points that would seem like ripe targets for an opportunistic enemy.
He almost didn’t notice the shift in the random flow of the mists that preceded a fresh assault on his memories. Will scrambled to put his mental house in order not only to steel himself for the grueling ordeal but to be ready to exert whatever control he could. The mists swirled faster and then parted on a familiar scene...
A rare sunny day drenched the White Wharfs and even made the somberly bobbing grave-bouys take on a bizarrely festive appearance. Sarah had made a new “friend” named Ram or Billy or something and the three of them were loitering around a pile of crates waiting to be loaded onto a barge. They were waiting for the return of an informant who was supposed to know the whereabouts of a particularly slippery pirate captain who was creating unwelcome chaos in the Bay. The crazy days and weeks after Gangplank went up with his ship in an eruption of flame and ash had seen the young bounty hunter and former spirit of vengeance reborn as an able uniter of former rivals. She had taken it on herself to tackle the power vacuum she had created and against all odds, was succeeding.
“Billy, my new, bestest friend! Are you ready to have some fun or are you afraid to mess up that pretty face?” she teased.
“I told you, my name ain’t Billy, and I am more ready than anyone else you will find on this god forsaken rock,” he replied. “When is this going to get interesting?”
“Be careful what you wish for, Billy boy. You may find you aren’t as good as you think you are. Don’t worry about it too much though, I like having you around to keep things interesting even if it turns out you can’t fight. Maybe I’ll take you drinking later. A spirited fight tends to make me want to get good and wasted afterwards.”
—Spirit Will allowed himself a mental smirk at that last fiction he had managed to insert into the scene. Captain Fortune rarely drank and when she did, she ALWAYS maintained control. Let Thresh think he could catch her in her cups, though. That would be fun.----
Will leaned back on the crates and let the sun wash over his face and closed his eyes. The easy banter of his two companions allowed him a quiet moment to just appreciate the calm before the coming storm of violence. There were always flickers of jealousy when Sarah found a new interest but, honestly, it was easier for him when her attention was elsewhere. The force of her personality could make anyone forget their obligations and duties even when that wasn’t her intention and the First Officer of a crew like the Syren’s could not afford that.
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by gunshots and the sound of running feet from down the dock. He looked over to see that Shock and Awe had seemingly appeared out of nowhere into Sarah’s hands and the completely focused look on her face jarred comically with the completely lost expression on Billy’s face. He took the briefest of moments to wonder where Sarah kept those two massive guns in her skintight outfit before he pulled his sword to confront the mob pursuing their snitch.
The fight was on them quickly and Will found himself falling into the easy rhythm of so many fights before. Sarah Fortune was laughter and gunfire incarnate but even she needed someone to watch her back and that was Will’s job. The few raving thugs that slipped through her cover fire found themselves face to face with his blade.
The mists closed again as quickly as they had parted and Will heard a voice that he had never heard until now. Low, raspy and hollow it said, “Did you enjoy that last excursion? If you cooperate with me, I can arrange more, even happier reunions with your dear Captain. I might even let you out of the Lantern, hmmm?”
“Coward demon bastard! Have you ever felt the fierce joy of fighting side by side with someone? Of having their back and knowing that they have yours? What could you possibly offer that would make me betray her?” he responded without thinking.
Thresh laughed, “We will see. That level of concern for your friend makes you vulnerable. I do understand having allies, however and I am currently investigating a newly met acquaintance. I shall give you some more time to soften your resolve while I do that, farewell, slave.”
Will choked back a string of useless curses as a new thought dawned on him. He could speak with his captor. He had added a new weapon to the struggle. If he still had teeth to bare, his smile would have been vicious.
Chapter 6
Baited and Hooked
The table in the corner of The Bait and Hook had become the center of the universe and the lantern was its unholy moon. Thresh and Dania stared at each other across the well polished wood slab, and although each of them appeared outwardly calm, each was feverishly analyzing the other hoping to divine some insight into their motives and goals. The silence stretched out longer and more intense all while the conversations around them continued on. Occasional nervous glances from around the common room bounced off the invisible bubble around the two adversaries without gleaning any useful information into the nature of the wordless struggle.
Dania parted her lips as if about to break the stalemate. Thresh leaned forward with an expectant glint in his eye. Dania smiled thinly, sat back and re-arranged the folds of her jet black skirt. Thresh frowned and the expectation was replaced with a bored grimace. He pushed his chair back and started to stand. He had never been a patient person even when mortal and had become even less so since gaining the ability to snatch the souls of others and bend them completely to his will. The fabric of his perfectly tailored pants had just barely broke contact with the seat when Dania rose one finger and cleared her throat. A low, gravelly growl rumbled from somewhere in his chest and he rose to his full six foot plus height, met her eyes, and instantly regretted it.
Normally, the eyes truly were windows to the soul. Normally, Thresh sought out those twin portals like a shark following the scent of blood in open water. Normally, that was the last thing his prey saw before feeling the bite of the hook that dragged them into the lantern’s depths. As Thresh brought his emerald-green gaze to bear on Dania’s hazel eyes, he prepared to relish the look of shock that normally greeted him if for no other reason than that he could put an end to this irritating woman who dared try to play games with him. What he found were depths that he had never contemplated before. In those eyes beneath the green flecked brown was an enigma, something that he didn’t understand. It simultaneously intrigued and annoyed him. There was a soul in there somewhere , but it had been bonded, blended, merged so completely with another….thing, that it would be nearly impossible to separate the two. Worse, the combination of her natural being with another alien one made it impossible for him to read her. So intent was his focus on teasing out the mystery, he didn’t notice the thin tendrils of mist trickling from his lantern, slowly wending their way toward the table’s other occupant.
Dania noticed it. “Dear sir, I believe you are leaking,” she said dryly. “I would have thought that a gentleman of refinement such as yourself would show more self-control.”
“I am sure I have no idea what you are referring to,” Thresh replied as he quickly composed himself and the errant emanation snapped back. He raised his voice and looked around the tavern, “Did anyone else see anything?” A unanimous shaking of heads passed through the room, even though it was obvious that all the patrons were studiously avoiding looking at the pair in question.
“See? However, I am glad that you were ‘kind’ enough to break the silence first,” he intentionally oozed insincerity. “What is a fine lady like yourself doing in a place like this? Ah, but where are my manners? Introductions are in order. I am the owner of this establishment, Master Erlok. I rarely have others purposely seek my company, so please forgive any lapse in my etiquette.”
The infuriating woman had the gall to resume her apparently indifferent scrutiny. He felt his patience slipping quickly as he stood there with his hand extended and she merely covered her mouth with the back of her hand and yawned. He could no longer control himself when she sighed disappointedly, stood up, and began to walk away. The candles flickered and dimmed abruptly as he withdrew the one hand and the other shot out, flinging a wickedly barbed hook attached to a chain wreathed in verdant flame. It flew across the short space still separating them and buried itself in her back, ignoring the dress and any armor she may have hidden underneath.
Thresh smiled hungrily and prepared to savor victory but when he began to pull the hook back, the impossible happened. Dania reached around behind her back and slowly wrapped her fingers around the chain and held the hook firmly in place. The look on her face as she leisurely turned around showed the first hints of emotion since entering the Bait and Hook. Her eyes were no longer flat and unreadable, they were triumphant.
“Thank you, Master Erlok for finally revealing your true nature. I came here looking for the fiend Thresh and now I have unmistakable proof that I have found him,” she crooned, still gripping the hook and stepping closer. Now face to face, even though there was a noticeable difference in their physical heights, she intoned with the cadence of a binding contract “My name is Dania, and we shall be allies until I have retrieved what I want from a certain Captain Sarah Fortune.”
“Every.. body.. OUT!” Thresh growled, recovering quickly from his shock. Even though the command had been issued at a volume barely above a whisper, the main room of the tavern emptied rapidly in a flurry of scraping chair legs and scurrying boots.
This was something new. He felt an undercurrent of excitement beneath the seething rage cascading through his entire being. Drawing himself up to his full height, he summoned his fire in a blazing, unholy nimbus and returned her stare.
“Why wasn’t she drawing back in fear?” he thought to himself, the barest hint of confusion beginning to flicker at the back of his mind. “ No, forget drawing back, why wasn’t she cowering in terror?” Every light in the room, every flame in the candles, even the dancing tongues of fire in the massive stone fireplace dimmed as their energies joined the aura around the tavern’s master now resembling a spiraling inferno.
“Who do you think you are, woman? Do you think to challenge me, in my own domain? Your spirit will join the spirits of much stronger beings than you.”
Finally moving but never breaking his gaze nor releasing her grip on the hook still protruding from her back, she raised her other hand and slowly traced one finger down his cheek.
“My soul shall not be yours, at least not in the way you are accustomed to, sir. I have suffered a blight, a sickness that has altered the very makeup of my spirit. It is no longer mortal or fully human. It is not susceptible to your predations. It does not respond to your intimidation.” In one fluid movement, she grabbed the lapel of his jacket and sat on the edge of the table behind her, pulling him to her. Once again eye to eye, she permitted one corner of her lips to twist upwards in a sly smile.
“And I am not challenging you, my dear,” she whispered, “I am binding you to me. We shall be fully partners.”
With the slightest effort, the hand gripping the hook jerked it free and tossed it to the ground at her side. In a motion too rapid for the eye to follow, she transferred her hold to the back of Thresh’s head and held it in place while her lips found his. He immediately tried to break free but found himself locked in an unyielding embrace. His eyes widened in shock and his arms pushed back on her shoulders in an effort to break free. So complete was his astonishment that he lost control of his physical manifestation. His body began to cycle through form after form, looking for a way to escape. In rapid succession he became a deep sea monster with writhing tentacles, a flaming skull, the green fire turned blue and took on the appearance of flashes of lighting reaching out to all the metal surfaces. He became a dark celestial with a gaping black void in place of his mouth and still found himself locked in place. At one point, he assumed the form of a dark-skinned man with a large, neat afro and glasses and this finally had an effect on his captor.
“Interesting, I actually felt something that time. I thought that was lost to me when I got sick,” ruminated Dania and she abruptly loosened her grasp.
Thresh staggered backward and tripped over a cane that one of the patrons had let fall to the floor in their rush to vacate the room. He dropped hard on his back looking at the implacable demon in a neatly tailored dress perched on the polished hardwood of one of his tables, speechless.
“Wait a minute, is it possible? Can it be that the fearsome Chain Warden, in the entire length of his existence, his many lifetimes, has never been with a woman?” Dania quickly crossed the space that separated them and dropped down astride the paralyzed man. “I have changed my mind, perhaps we shall not be full partners,” she said wryly, “I find that I rather like it more when I’m on top.”
In a shadowy, grimy alley outside of a nondescript tavern close to the docks of Bilgewater Bay, a blind man lay dying. He had once had a name but in the last of a series of indignities that was his life, he breathed his last few breaths, penniless and forgotten to all but the rats that hid in the corners waiting for the final twitches of life to leave him before they could dine. Sadly for the rats, this was not to be the night for feasting.
The sooty, opaque windows of the tavern suddenly flared with a blazing, green light like a sickly star that had gone supernova. The light reflected and danced in the staring eyes of the dead man before rapidly imploding back within the confining walls of the establishment. The man sat up abruptly and drew a deep breath as he looked around. His hands roamed over his ragged, dingy clothing as if to reassure him that he was real flesh and blood. Joy and uncertainty in equal parts played across his face as he realized he could not see but then he lifted a bruised chin to the sky and exalted,
“I’m free! I’m actually free! I am Will Nonce and I. am. FREE!