CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: SHYRI
Fawkes finished his sandwich and flopped onto his bed. Did he need to worry about this sorcerous elf his spell had revealed? Elves rarely came to Blackstone, and when they did it was in caravans as they made their way into the kingdom from the Southern Fangs mountain passes. If an elf was in town, they had to be in disguise as he had never seen one and Shyri had never mentioned one. Why hide themselves? Elves were welcome. Was the elf on the ship, a member of the Hand?
What about the Hands getting all hot for his boat? Did they really want his boat or were they just trying to silence him? They did not bring their wizard so they did not suspect him of doing magic. Right?
The Gosling rocked on the small waves stirred up by the wind. His thoughts kept swirling between the elf and the Hand. Somewhere between his thinking and the rocking, he fell asleep.
PeyPey barked a soft warning.
Fawkes' eyes shot open. JuJu came over and started dragging Fawkes off his bed.
"I'm getting up, JuJu." he protested and got to his feet. Rain pounded on the roof. A quick glance out the window showed the sun was setting behind the clouds.
"Be a nice doggie and let me on the boat," Shyri's voice said with impatient pleading.
Fawkes huffed out a breath. Why was she out? Did she think the boats coming back meant things were safe? He shrugged on his slicker that had been hanging on the wall as he strode out. Flipping up the hood at the tied-open flaps of the tent, he stepped out onto the deck.
"I'm here, PeyPey," he said. The dog went back in under the tent and gave himself a good shake.
Fawkes looked at Shyri standing on the dock in a slicker that probably belonged to one of her older brothers as her hands were unseen. Certainly not Thimmy's with those trouser cuffs rolled up like that. Or maybe they were hand-me-downs from his older brothers to him. He looked down the dock and over the dockyard. There was no sign of Thimmy.
"Come on board before you drown, Shyri," he held out a hand to help her down.
She ignored his hand and jumped down beside him. Fawkes gently took her elbow and escorted her under the tent before she had a chance to protest about keeping up appearances.
"What brings you out in this unlovely weather and without your little brother chaperone?"
"The boys and father are all busy with placard players. Those players were so grabby that I was ordered to my room for the night while the boys serve them." She smiled at Fawkes. "And there is all this lovely rain keeping people inside. In a bit, it will be perfectly dark for that brandy heist."
"I sent you my last bottle so you wouldn't. You did notice there is a new ship in town? It's chock full of the Hand."
"Silly Fawkes. Of course, I know." She stepped close and pushed back his hood. Putting her arms around his neck. With her hand slipping into his hair, she pulled his head down for a kiss right on the mouth.
Two panting dog laughs sounded behind Fawkes, who broke off the kiss. He carefully pushed her back a bit before looking into her smiling eyes.
"Best stop all that if you want to be going for that brandy," he told her with a wink.
Shyri laughed but moved to a bench and sat down.
"Well, I really need that brandy and the sooner we get it the better." She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to say something, then snapped it shut. Flushing a bit, she beamed a smile his way. "Father will be doing room checks and I need the brandy to prove my mischief was all innocent fun, in case he checks too soon."
Fawkes raised a brow at her. One of her secret schemes she can't share again. We made a promise to keep our secrets to ourselves. Secrets are for married folk and that's not us. So we dance around them. He swallowed. Much as I really want to help her, I can't.
"We? Tonight? After the Hand just tried to nab my boat?" If I don't help, will she go on home and wait for a safer night?
"A token effort. And one they won't try again, not with all the fishers putting up deck tents and drinking on their little boats with their bottles of rum."
"You just happen to know all this."
"Father sold several bottles to a bunch of fishers all fired up about the Hand going after their very own 'Hero of the Docks'." Damn Putur and his drunken stories! No wonder the Hand is onto me.
"The Hand's going to give up on my boat just like that?"
"The Hand needs this town on their side more than they need your boat and that includes the fishers, which is why they bothered to return those other boats." She hopped to her feet and darted over to him. Giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, she stepped back with that lovely devilish grin of hers. "You're a fisher now, so ... let's get going."
She won't go home if I don't help her, but find a way to do it herself and probably get in trouble. Or hurt.
"Let me put out the lanterns, then we'll go." He watched her step back and cross her arms. One foot began to tap on his deck. Flashing her a grin, he hurried into his cabin and blew out the lantern. In the dark, he dug into his belt pouch for the key to the cabin door. Once it was in hand, he stepped out under the tent, pulling the door closed. He turned and huddled close to use his body and slicker to hide what he was about to do. He slid the key into the lock.
"Yrkyn'lik," he whispered and turned it. The lock flickered with a faint golden light until he took the key out and stuffed it back into his pouch. Putting out the second lantern, he joined Shyri.
"Let's go."
