Chapter twenty seven - you're an angel from below

I am anathema.

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The sound of heavy and brazen footsteps on the deck above pulled me from my sleep in a state of alarm. There were far too many men up there for such an early hour. Faintly, I heard blades cross with a resonating ring, and I scrambled out of my bunk and towards the noise with blatant abandon. A fight was the last thing Gerard needed right now– it was the last thing any of us needed right now.

The moment I set foot on the deck, Dewees launched himself in front of me, accidentally crashing our skulls together and almost knocking me back down the steps. He babbled frantically, appearing to be attempting to form sentences. Although I could not distinguish any particular words, it wasn't difficult to form a vague understanding of the situation. The Aurora was back, and they were mad.

The scene was carnage, snapping movements and sharp turns, fighting colder than anything I had seen before. I glanced anxiously around for Gerard, distantly hoping that he was still in his cabin, but to my dismay, I found him growling at a man I vaguely remembered being called Trohman, their swords grating against each other in an ineffable struggle for superiority. This fight was not about killing, it appeared, or even doing damage to the opposing side. It was about pride, something I'd never witnessed a pirate paying mind to in all my life. The hierarchy was a purposeless social construct, created for the benefit of proper and civil citizens to make them feel ever more superior. It was made for respected citizens, not us. Not pirates. We were all down in the dregs together.

I glanced behind me to where Dewees had been standing, intending to ask how the fight had started since I thought we were at a truce with the Aurora, but he had already propelled himself across the deck to ram into anyone who wasn't participating enough. I supposed that he had expected me to throw myself into the heat of the battle immediately, without any forethought, as he hadn't so much as nudged me to join in.

I was suddenly far more conscious of my surroundings. You don't 'join in' a fight, like Dewees was urging the crew to– you 'join in' a game of poker, or a competition. And that's what this was– some kind of twisted psychological game. A terrible struggle for pointless dominance. I'd had a cursory knowledge of the situation from moments after I arrived, but I had not realised how deep set this feud was.

I pushed through the mass of grubby, greasy men– who were, for once, not roaring at one another, but only glaring and sharpening their swords on one another's limbs– and scrambled to reach Gerard, to shove him back into his bunk. Whether he was physically strong enough or not, he was a far cry from emotionally prepared. He was at the furthest part of the deck from the steps, and of course, he was fighting the fucking captain, blood splattered down the side of his face and his knuckles almost white from clutching Wentz's throat. And of course, he had seen me, and of course, the moment I stepped in to prise him off Wentz, he whipped around and dashed through a clump of men caught in a fistfight to where I couldn't reach him.

I struggled through the mass of people and weapons and blood, only to be dragged back my a bony hand grasping my wrist tightly. I spun around, poised to snap the arm of whoever had pulled me back, but was met with Lisa's familiar face, and I froze. I had intended to ask her what she was doing in the middle of a fight, but all I managed was a splutter.

"Frank," she hissed. "What the hell is happening?"

"What are you doing here?" I said. "You'll get hurt."

Lisa laughed, high and breathy. "No, I won't."

"How are you still alive? What are you doing?"

"I'm fighting," she said, teeth gritted as she sharply kicked Dewees in the shin. Clearly, he didn't expect it to hurt nearly as much as it did, and he made a high pitched cry and clutched at his leg.

"Why?" Dewees cried, wheezing. "Jesus, that hurt."

"She's with the Aurora," I said dismissively, and Dewees' eyes bugged. I turned back to Lisa. "Why are you here?"

"Why are we fighting?" she retorted. "We didn't come here for a battle."

"You never come here for anything but a battle," Dewees said incredulously.

"We came here to talk, and all of a sudden we're being fucking attacked."

Even I was taken aback at that. I had never heard a lady swear before, especially not one as elegant as Lisa. "I don't understand," I said.

Lisa didn't reply though, she was already darting through the masses of men towards Gerard, and I barely had time to stumble after her before Dewees thundered across the deck towards me and almost knocked me over. As expected, the moment Lisa reached Gerard, he spun around and held his sword with the blade towards her, poised to attack. She didn't try to fight him though, to my surprise. She didn't even try to defend herself.

"What the hell's she doing?" Dewees asked me.

I didn't reply. I just watched.

"Gerard," Lisa said. Her voice was unexpectedly gentle, and she looked at Gerard like he was an old friend.

Gerard narrowed his eyes and stepped towards her, his grip on his sword steady.

"Gerard, it's me."

Gerard looked as irritated from being in the dark as I felt. Did Lisa mean that she was the scorpion child? That all along, the Aurora had been sheltering her? Perhaps they had come to share their fountain wish with us, now that we were mutual non-enemies.

"It's Michael," Lisa said earnestly.

On second thoughts, perhaps they had not come to share their fountain wish.