The Witch's Patron

Chapter 17

The sun was just cresting the horizon when Noori staggered into her father's office clutching a steaming mug of coffee in her hands. Even when she hadn't spent half the night at Keizsa's studio, she still struggled to greet the mornings. But there was so much work to be done and business at the port waited for no one, so Noori was awake and doing her best to stay that way. 

With a wide yawn she sank into the chair at her father's desk and adjusted the lamp so she could see the daily ledgers. This, she knew, would be the easiest part of the day: leisurely sipping her coffee while she reviewed the names of the ships that would be arriving, departing, and remaining at berth over the next sixteen hours. When her eyes spotted the Halcyon listed under the day's anticipated arrivals, Noori's heart ached. She wished that she could be the pilot to greet Captain Denali and guide her ship into the harbor, but without Toddrick around to help she would have to settle for meeting her friend dockside instead.

For a few blissful moments, Noori let herself daydream about being back onboard Mystic Sal with Toddrick, slicing through the waves and feeling the rush of cool ocean air against her face. The longing she felt made her think about her last conversation with Keizsa, which brought on an entirely new sense of longing. It had been days since she'd last seen the witch, and she was surprised by just how much she missed her. Noori was no stranger to missing her friends — she was all too accustomed to the stretches of listless boredom that came with each of Toddrick's long voyages. But missing Keizsa felt different, deeper. On more than one occasion, Noori caught herself gazing out at nothing as she wondered what Keizsa was doing at that moment. She missed the witch's company, her stories, her smell. The lack of Keizsa left Noori feeling strangely unmoored; a ship adrift at sea.

Distracted, Noori realized she'd scanned the rest of the day's register without actually retaining a word of it. She cursed under her breath and started back at the top of the page, forcing herself to focus this time. It was during this second reading that her eyes fell on a name that took her by surprise and filled her insides with an icy chill.

"Papa?" she called. "When did the Kraken return? I thought Lourda wasn't scheduled to be back for months."

Her father poked his head into the room. His halfmoon glasses were fogged from the curl of steam from the cup of tea that was pressed to his lips. "Late last night. He's lucky we had an open slip for him."

Noori chewed on the inside of her cheek. Worry bloomed in her chest. "Did he say what business brought him back so soon?"

"I haven't had a chance to speak with him yet," her father said. "I wonder if he's already having trouble with that fancy new ship of his. Wouldn't that be something?"

"It certainly would," Noori mumbled. She wondered if it had anything to do with Lourda's betrayal of Keizsa. Was the spell that created the Kraken beginning to unravel? And, if so, would the Captain blame her? "I'll check in on him when I do my morning rounds."

After gulping down the last of her coffee, Noori grabbed her satchel and hurried out the door. By now the sun was rising and the last of the morning fog was burning off the water's surface. The docks were already bustling with sailors, crew, and dockworkers alike. Familiar faces called out greetings as she hurried past, but Noori couldn't bring herself to stop and chat like she normally would. Instead, she made a beeline to the slip where she knew the Kraken was moored. The closer she got to the ship the thinner the crowds became. By the time the Kraken's dark masts materialized through the mist, Noori was the only person on the dock. There was no hive-like buzz of activity from Lourda's crew, not even on the ship's deck. The gangplank was raised and the vessel was eerily quiet. Wondering if perhaps Fernweh's mystery illness had found its way onboard, Noori's eyes scanned the rigging for a quarantine flag, but found nothing.