Chapter 47: Hoist up the Thing
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“-and when they first pulled me out I thought I had died! Weird historical clothing and a sailing ship. I’m still not sure I hadn’t; those were icy waters, and hypothermia can set in in an instant. But there’s no use worrying about that since I have a business to run.” Said the captain, describing his ill-fated adventure on a crabbing boat in the 1980’s. He was thrilled to meet someone just as alien to this world as he was.

The most annoying part of his ships name was that he wasn’t even from Alaska. He had gone up there on a whim after hitchhiking across the country. The 80’s really were a different time. I couldn’t even imagine doing something that dangerous in the modern day. Or would it be dangerous? Naturally, it’d be dangerous but with a cell phone, and with the majority of states having constitutional concealed carry, things would be much safer. At least the hitchhiking aspect would be. None of that helps if you sign on with a crabbing vessel as a deckhand and get washed overboard.

The captain, a Michigander with the name Eddy Thompson, ending up here was a stroke of luck, as he said. Rather than taken by Lord Neptune to the briny depths he somehow washed up in another world. And one with normal sized people at that, none of that Lilliputian nonsense being staked down onto land. And now he was the captain of his own trading vessel at the young age of 30. It’s probably better he went with the Alaskan themed name; if he had named it The Edmund Fitzgerald I would have refused to board. The song must have came out when he was in his teens, which really wasn’t that long ago from his perspective.

Don’t ask me how the math works out, time gets wonky when it comes to traveling between worlds. He was introducing himself to passengers he suspected were VIPs, and was thrilled to hear I was from the good old US of A. Weird how this sort of thing works out. If I didn’t know better I’d be afraid of wandering back through a wardrobe to find no time at all has passed, a scenario I’m not sure would be any better than the Swiftian giants and horse people.

“Shame you weren’t born a few decades later, you could have ended up on a Discovery Channel show.”

“Huh?’

“Don’t worry about it. You really lucked out.”

“Sure?” Even the connection of being from the same world couldn’t fix my inherent awkwardness. Or maybe it was the lack of coffee. Actually…

“Do you mind if I borrow some boiling water?”

“Sure. Hey Muller, grab them some tea!” He shouted to a man standing off to the side. Would that be his First Mate, or were they a steward? Either way, I had to stop them.

“I don’t need tea.” I said, reaching into my bag. The small sack I plopped down on the stateroom table caught his attention. He could smell it. “I don’t suppose you’ve had any of this in quite a while.”

“Muller, belay that. Just get a kettle.” The classic Rose technique. Distract from any awkwardness by showing off something interesting. This was totally not just an excuse to get caffeine into my brain. At least that’s what I told myself while pulling out a grinder and the pour-over set-up out of my bag. The only issue? Actually not currently an issue.

“Are the seas normally this calm?”

“At this time of year? It depends, but storms don’t get too strong until summer. Think mid-Atlantic. Which is something I still haven’t really figured out since I went overboard in the Bering sea just to get picked up far south of here. The continent shapes vaguely resemble our world and- you know what? I was going to show you the charts anyways.” He walked over to an alcove to the side, with numerous maps rolled up into cubbyholes. One was already out on a table, iron weights pinning down the corners.

“As you can see, it’s not too long of a journey. We’re coasting northwards, with a few stops at settlements and one major city, before we get to the Appelian capital. While there’s a slight risk of an iceberg drifting south it’s nothing to be concerned about. And with it being so close to the capital there’s no risk of pirates.

“I was just asking because it’d suck to spill while trying to brew this.”

“Oh. There shouldn’t be any issue today. That is a good point, however. Luckily we have a sorcerer who’s famous for his weather forecasting skills, not to toot my own horn. Why do you think the local lord went out of the way to hire me? It’s well known we otherworlders tend to have a knack for magic, and my specific knack seems to involve magic related to the sea. Weird, considering how I almost died from it.”

“Akshually-” Mary butted in, beginning a long lecture about talent and the role fate can play in it. If nothing else it helped pass the time before Muller returned with the kettle. I was completely off my game, so anything was a pleasant distraction from the thought of having to keep a conversation going.

“Excuse me, where’s the head?” I asked.

“Down the hall and to the right.” The captain answered.

I just needed to get away for a bit. Call it lack of caffeine, call it my antisocial tendencies rearing their head, or maybe it was just the unpleasant realization that this was going to be a much longer trip than I hoped away from that comfy cottage in the wood with Mary. But maybe splashing some water on my face would help get my mind back in the-

Fuck, of course this style of sailing ship wouldn’t have running water.


I paused, halfway through informing Captain Thompson about the effect one’s fate can have on magical specialties. It really is such a fascinating topic, with the interplay between the attempts for a path to be woven and the inherent free will of the individual, but that was hardly important when Rose seemed so out of sorts. Okay, I may have slightly gotten into lecture mode.

“Excuse me, Captain, I’m going to check on Rose for a bit.”

“Sure. She might just be a bit surprised, the heads on ship aren’t anything like a regular crapper back in our world.”

“Of course.” What the hell is a crapper? I could have sworn I heard that word before. Regardless, I know Rose mentioned having been a marine, I’m not worried about her being unfamiliar to the ship-board restroom. It’s just that she seemed extra spacey today.

I left the room. Rose was immediately visible at the end of the hallway. She was leaning against the bathroom door massaging her temples, a sign I learned over the past few months was never a good thing. It was never anything exactly bad either but she’d usually act more moody when she had headaches. As soon as I closed the distance I grabbed her hand, clutching her arm to my chest.

“You doing okay?”

“It’s fine, just a bit of a headache.” She replied, giving me a forced smile.

“It’s been a busy day after all, and an early morning. As fun as watching the ship leaving the harbor with you was I’ve never been the biggest fan of traveling myself.” I gave her a peck on the cheek.

“It’s nothing to worry about. Just a minor headache.” She muttered, looking perturbed. I gave her a hug.

“The coffee should be ready, but if you want to hang out here for a bit…” Don’t judge me, hugging her really does seem to help her when she’s like this. The fact that I enjoy it is completely irrelevant.

She shot me a flat look.

“Here, in a busy hallway?” Drat. Wait, no, I’m here because I was worried about her. At least she seems to bounce back pretty fast. I’m almost a bit concerned at how well she can get over stuff at times but, well, it’s just her own special form of resiliency.

“We can go back in for coffee then.” The scent of it also seems to help her. “Unless it’s that talkative captain who annoyed you. He did seem to be acting overly familiar with you. In fact, maybe we should take our coffee back to our cabin once-” I was interrupted by her patting my head.

“It’s fine, Mary. Besides, he doesn’t seem familiar with our, uh, reputations back in Porte. Maybe we should take advantage of the rare opportunity to talk with someone who doesn’t look at us like we might burn the town down or destroy buildings?” She smiled, this time without the strain of forcing it.

“It wasn’t us that time and we both know it!” She giggled at that.

“Obviously. I still don’t know how I got lumped in with it all. You’re the one who’s supposed to be the Madness witch after all.”

“Shhhh! Captain Thompson still seems to think we’re just some normal vassals of the local lord. Don’t blow our cover like that!” He didn’t even seem to be aware we were witches. We stashed our hats in our bags before boarding. Don’t want such nice head-wear being taken by an ocean breeze, or at least that’s how Rose put it.

“I’m sure one of us will slip up at some point. Actually, he’s from the Eighties, how would he even react to a proper witch? With the Satanic panic and all that he’s probably primed to think the worse.” I’ll need to ask her what those are, actually, I could have sworn the captain said he was from Michigan, not the Eighties.

“He’s been in this world for a while now, I’m sure he’s used to witches.”

“Oh, that’s true. But would he be used to the infamous Madness witch and her loyal apprentice?” She threw back her head and started to let out a high-pitched cackle, before blushing and looking down. “Fuck, they probably heard that.”

“See? And to think I’m the one with that embarrassing nickname. You truly have earned the right to be known as my apprentice.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Except for the occasional accusation of destroying buildings or other criminal mischief.”

“Aren’t you a wanted criminal back in the mundane world?”

“Minor details. It was just a spot of supposed tax evasion. The NFA is completely unconstitutional anyways.”

“So you say. Anyways, your coffee will definitely get cold if we keep talking out here.”

“Once more into the breech? Come to think of it, it feels sort of off seeing a ship like this without cannon.”

“Did the ones in your world have them?”

“Oh, historical museum ships did. Like the Constellation and Constitution, centuries old warships. Except we’re on a merchantman, so more like the Friendship of Salem? Though she was also a privateer at one point.” We had reached the captains office. I loathed the thought of letting go of her hand, but she is shy about publicly showing affection.

Except, happy fate, she held firm to my hand as she flew into the room.

“Sorry about that. While it’s better than a port-a-shitter it was a bit of a shock having a head with no running water. Well, except the big expanse of water at the bottom. It’d suck to drop your phone down that one.” Captain Thompson seemed confused about that one. I was just as confused. Normally she was a bit more reserved.

“How do you drop a phone in the head?” Asked Captain Thompson.

“Oh, yeah, the Eighties. They were still called car phones back then. So, coffee? Thanks!” She grabbed one of the remaining cups on a tray, bringing it up to her nose with a look of ecstasy. She took in a deep breath, and an exhale, before taking a sip.

“Delicious. So captain, anything else we should know about our voyage?”

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