and out onto the middeck, where the crew were still gathered around the injured youth. They crossed the deck unnoticed and climbed down the ladder.
The huge cast-iron stove, with its many warming plates and two ovens, stood amidst the chaos of copper pots, pans and food. Half-covered in debris, a large grey-haired man sprawled dead on the galley floor.
‘That’s Cookie. Staz is his apprentice.’ Miron saw she didn’t understand. Tears filled his eyes. ‘Staz got bitten. I shoulda—’
‘Couldn’t be helped.’ Piro squeezed his shoulder. It made sense to keep the Affinity beast eggs in the galley, where it was warm. ‘Bet Cookie didn’t like having Affinity cargo in his kitchen.’
‘How did you know?’
She knew cooks and she knew Affinity beasts. If she was lucky, she’d find the kresatrices curled up asleep in their nest. ‘Where were they kept?’
‘This way.’ Miron picked a path through the pots and pans, giving the dead cook a wide berth.
‘It must have been a terrible fight,’ Piro observed.
‘When they swarmed me, Cookie roared like a wyvern and swung his cleaver. He saved my life.’
‘How many kressies were there?’
‘Nine.’
‘All of them hatched?’
Miron nodded.
‘Did Cookie kill any?’
‘Just the one.’ Miron pointed to a large over-turned baking dish on the floor. ‘There.’
Piro lifted the dish gingerly. She needn’t have worried. The kresatrice was well and truly dead, its body hacked to bits.
Miron sniffed and hunkered down. ‘Poor kressie.’
Piro turned the little thing over. It had the hard plates of a kresillum, but with its lizard’s tail, legs and neck, it was most like a cockatrice. The small, feathered wings wouldn’t have been strong enough to lift it off the ground. The face was curiously sweet. Now dull in death, in life the large eyes would have been jewel-like, but that small snout contained...
‘Fangs.’ Piro pointed. ‘That’ll be how it injects poison. Wish I knew what the surgeon used to revive—’
‘He saved Staz?’
‘Too soon to be sure,’ Piro told him. ‘Are the kressies all this pretty?’
‘I only got a quick look, but some were prettier.’ Miron crawled over to the stove. ‘This is where we kept them.’ The great cast iron stove sat in a tiled sand-box to prevent the heat from the stove scorching the deck. The cabin boy pointed to a chest with a distinctive symbol on the side. ‘It was filled with straw to stop the eggs from breaking.’
Now it was filled with eggshells.
‘It’s very deep. Are there more eggs underneath?’ Piro went to dig her hands down into the straw, then thought better of it. Taking a knife, she carefully parted the broken eggshells and straw. ‘There’s a rock.’
She put the knife aside and removed the rock. There were veins of something pretty running through it, and when she touched these, she sensed...
‘Affinity?’ It all made sense. ‘The mother would have kept the eggs warm, but they needed both heat and Affinity or the babies wouldn’t mature and hatch.’
Piro placed the Affinity stone on the table and dusted off her hands. Siordun would want to see this. ‘We should take the body up. I’ll need a big pot with a lid.’ She spotted just the thing.
Behind her, Miron whimpered.
Piro slowly turned. Three kresatrices had climbed over the cook’s body. They perched on the cook’s broad chest, their tiny mouths stained with blood. Serpentine tongues tasted the air.
Two of them had red chests with iridescent blue markings on the neck and legs. The third was emerald green with red markings. Three sets of jewel-bright eyes fixed on Piro.
‘They’re so colourful,’ she whispered. ‘They should have been easy to find.’
Miron dug into his pockets. ‘Where did I put me...’
The kresatrices began to whine. Piro found the sound annoying, but Miron swayed in time to it, sinking to his knees. She caught his arm. ‘What are you...’
He gave her a dreamy smile.
The
The huge cast-iron stove, with its many warming plates and two ovens, stood amidst the chaos of copper pots, pans and food. Half-covered in debris, a large grey-haired man sprawled dead on the galley floor.
‘That’s Cookie. Staz is his apprentice.’ Miron saw she didn’t understand. Tears filled his eyes. ‘Staz got bitten. I shoulda—’
‘Couldn’t be helped.’ Piro squeezed his shoulder. It made sense to keep the Affinity beast eggs in the galley, where it was warm. ‘Bet Cookie didn’t like having Affinity cargo in his kitchen.’
‘How did you know?’
She knew cooks and she knew Affinity beasts. If she was lucky, she’d find the kresatrices curled up asleep in their nest. ‘Where were they kept?’
‘This way.’ Miron picked a path through the pots and pans, giving the dead cook a wide berth.
‘It must have been a terrible fight,’ Piro observed.
‘When they swarmed me, Cookie roared like a wyvern and swung his cleaver. He saved my life.’
‘How many kressies were there?’
‘Nine.’
‘All of them hatched?’
Miron nodded.
‘Did Cookie kill any?’
‘Just the one.’ Miron pointed to a large over-turned baking dish on the floor. ‘There.’
Piro lifted the dish gingerly. She needn’t have worried. The kresatrice was well and truly dead, its body hacked to bits.
Miron sniffed and hunkered down. ‘Poor kressie.’
Piro turned the little thing over. It had the hard plates of a kresillum, but with its lizard’s tail, legs and neck, it was most like a cockatrice. The small, feathered wings wouldn’t have been strong enough to lift it off the ground. The face was curiously sweet. Now dull in death, in life the large eyes would have been jewel-like, but that small snout contained...
‘Fangs.’ Piro pointed. ‘That’ll be how it injects poison. Wish I knew what the surgeon used to revive—’
‘He saved Staz?’
‘Too soon to be sure,’ Piro told him. ‘Are the kressies all this pretty?’
‘I only got a quick look, but some were prettier.’ Miron crawled over to the stove. ‘This is where we kept them.’ The great cast iron stove sat in a tiled sand-box to prevent the heat from the stove scorching the deck. The cabin boy pointed to a chest with a distinctive symbol on the side. ‘It was filled with straw to stop the eggs from breaking.’
Now it was filled with eggshells.
‘It’s very deep. Are there more eggs underneath?’ Piro went to dig her hands down into the straw, then thought better of it. Taking a knife, she carefully parted the broken eggshells and straw. ‘There’s a rock.’
She put the knife aside and removed the rock. There were veins of something pretty running through it, and when she touched these, she sensed...
‘Affinity?’ It all made sense. ‘The mother would have kept the eggs warm, but they needed both heat and Affinity or the babies wouldn’t mature and hatch.’
Piro placed the Affinity stone on the table and dusted off her hands. Siordun would want to see this. ‘We should take the body up. I’ll need a big pot with a lid.’ She spotted just the thing.
Behind her, Miron whimpered.
Piro slowly turned. Three kresatrices had climbed over the cook’s body. They perched on the cook’s broad chest, their tiny mouths stained with blood. Serpentine tongues tasted the air.
Two of them had red chests with iridescent blue markings on the neck and legs. The third was emerald green with red markings. Three sets of jewel-bright eyes fixed on Piro.
‘They’re so colourful,’ she whispered. ‘They should have been easy to find.’
Miron dug into his pockets. ‘Where did I put me...’
The kresatrices began to whine. Piro found the sound annoying, but Miron swayed in time to it, sinking to his knees. She caught his arm. ‘What are you...’
He gave her a dreamy smile.
The
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