Grim had used his first day onboard ship to get used to the sway of the waves, although this wasn’t his first ocean voyage. By now, three days out from shore, he’d regained the hang of timing his leaps perfectly to the rise and fall of the deck. Any errors of judgment had been made early and invisibly, out of sight of humans. And away from the puppy, of course.
Pip had a regrettable tendency to hero worship, worse now he sometimes stared at Grim and murmured, “That was you.” Grim needed to settle the youngster back down, but not by letting Pip see him be clumsy. Some compromises a cat will never make.
He crept along the edge of the upper level until he reached a point above where Silas and Darien leaned side by side on the railing of the main deck below. A neat leap landed him silently beside Darien, who jumped in a gratifying way.
“Jesus, Grim.” Darien kept his tone appropriately hushed. “You scared me.”
“I didn’t see anyone about,” Grim reported to Silas. “This is as good a time as any.”
Silas turned to Darien. “Ready?”
“I guess so.” Darien frowned, visible to Grim’s cat-eyes in the near-darkness. “It’s stupid and futile that I kind of want to open the whole thing up, just to make sure the demon is in there.”
Pip sniffed at the rope-bound suitcase. “But then you’d have to let it out.”
“I know. And I’m not really worried. Just saying.” Darien turned to Silas. “Shall we do this?”
Silas squeezed his arm. “Ready when you are.”
Grim saw the muscles in Silas’s arm tense as he heaved at the case. Darien pointed and a swirl of his shield extended to slide under the bottom, lifting and easing Silas’s way. Together they raised the suitcase to the top of the rail, and over. Then Darien kept a magical hold wrapped around its weight, lowering the case slowly toward the surface of the black, rolling waves.
“Here?” A hint of strain in Darien’s tone betrayed his effort. He said magic was harder out over the ocean, but he held the suitcase hovering, dampened by the occasional spray of waves against the hull.
“Maybe further out,” Silas suggested. “So it has no chance of hitting the propeller.”
“Good thought.”
Grim peered over the edge, claws dug into the deck, to see the soft gold of Darien’s curved shield ease the case ten feet out across the water. That boy still has no idea how unique he is.
“Let it go,” Silas whispered.
The golden glow disappeared. The suitcase dropped with the smallest of splashes and vanished beneath the waves. Grim stared after it, focusing on his Foresight, wishing his power was one that came at his command. He got nothing, no flash of a demon released, no sudden onslaught of demon gates opening. “That’s as good as it will ever be,” he said eventually.
He heard Darien’s deep sigh clearly over the hum of the engines. Silas bumped Darien’s shoulder, though here on the open deck, they wouldn’t dare more than that.
“No one should be able to track it down,” Darien murmured, as if they hadn’t debated that dozens of times. “Even if they guess we had the original, and track us to this ship, there’s a thousand miles of deep ocean where we could’ve dumped it.”
“Right.” Silas pushed away from the rail. “And if they knew, they still couldn’t retrieve it. That’s done.” He laughed softly. “What a relief.”
“For sure.” Darien’s teeth flashed white in the thin moonlight as he grinned, but then sobered. “Although there’s still the notebooks, and the Polaroids.”
“And I’d bet Xsing has most of the structure memorized,” Grim pointed out, using the Professor’s name here where no one was within earshot. “He’s sharp about those things. But we trust him and Jasper, and we don’t trust the demon. This puts us miles ahead of where we were.” He looked up at his necromancer. “Did you ever hear what Chicago decided to do with the fake demon bottle?”
“As far as I know, they have it in their Guild hall, under strong locks and spells.”
“Huh.” Grim had fully intended to have words with Cap and Soot about their sorcerers’ conduct, but the chance hadn’t arisen. Maybe he’d just let it go. Paris was a long way from Chicago, and no one had bothered Darien in the months Silas had taken to book the trip. “Sounds like they’re still under some illusion of maybe using it one day. Fools.”
“Or they couldn’t decide on a safe way to get rid of it,” Pip suggested. “It took Silas and Darien some time.”
“Not much time.” Grim bopped the optimistic puppy’s ears. Not so much puppy anymore. Though his body would never change, Pip was steadier than he used to be.
Usually. A bigger wave rocked the ship and Grim used his paw to brace Pip’s less effective claws on the deck. “Rain’s about to start. We should head inside—” He paused. “Someone’s coming.”
Darien dug in his pocket. “Quick, Pip. Leash on.”
“Do I have to?” Pip scratched at the collar Darien buckled around his neck.
Grim huffed. “Just be glad Silas sprang for a stateroom, or you’d be in the kennels with the rest of the mutts.” He crouched, gathered his strength, and made the challenging leap up to the next deck, slipping behind a corner of the hatch coaming.
Below, he heard a man’s footsteps approaching, and the voice of one of the stewards. “Hello, gentlemen. Out late tonight?”
Silas replied, “Getting some air before the rain comes.”
“Makes sense. You might want to get yourselves to quarters soon, though. It looks like we’ll get a bit of a blow.”
“Thanks for the advice. We’ll turn in soon.”
The man’s footsteps receded and were gone. Grim jumped back down. “Good thing he wasn’t five minutes earlier. Well, good night all. I’ll see you in the morning.”
As he walked away, he heard Pip complaining, “Why does he get to roam around and I don’t?”
He threw over his shoulder, “Because I can be stealthy, and you can’t.”
Pip’s mutter behind him of, “I can be stealthy if I want to,” made Grim smile.
He didn’t go far yet, despite his plan to check the most inaccessible parts of the ship tonight. Using the hidden walkways and upper decks, and then ducking into the hallway behind them, he followed his men and Pip back to their stateroom. They paused at the door while Silas unlocked it.
“Two more days to Paris.” Silas jiggled the key. “I’m looking forward to getting solid ground under my feet.”
“Me too.” Darien followed him in, with Pip bringing up the rear.
When the door had shut, Grim went and sat near it, listening. Not eavesdropping, precisely. Just making sure his family was settling in for the night. He heard the rustling of shoes being removed, then the soft sound of a kiss.
Pip said just audibly, “I wish I could go somewhere so you could mate, but there’s no hunting on a ship and I don’t know where to go.”
Darien’s voice, soft with laughter. “That’s okay, Pip.”
Silas. “It’s only two more days. We can wait that long.”
Then Darien, clowning around. “Twooooo. Daaaaays.”
Pip whined. “You could put me in the ship’s kennel, I guess, just for a bit. Say you needed space or something?”
All right, that’s enough of that. So much for my plans for the evening. Grim whapped the door at the same time as Silas said, “No, Pip, it’s fine. We’re teasing each other.”
The door opened a crack. Silas glanced out, then down, and eased it wide enough for Grim to squeeze inside before throwing the latch again. “What’s wrong?” He bent to Grim, looking worried.
“Nothing’s wrong. I remembered this is the night I was going to show Pip the hidden places on the ship.”
Pip and Darien said, “You were?” in very similar voices.
“Yes.” He sat and licked around one paw. Nice sharp claws this form had. He did appreciate them. “It might take us an hour or two. If that’s all right with you, O necromancer?”
“Quite all right.” Silas’s gaze met his, and what passed between them only a long-time familiar would understand.
Grim rose and stretched, enjoying the way his form’s muscles flexed and rippled. “Come on then, puppy. You’ll have to be very quiet, you understand. No speaking unless you subvocalize below human hearing. And for the love of all that’s holy, watch those clicky nails on the decking.”
“Yes, Grim.” Pip followed him to the door and out.
He waited until he heard the door lock, until there was a soft thump and a low laugh, as if someone was pushed back against the door. He hoped those two would remember sound carried onboard. He inclined his head at Pip and led the way to the first service ladder going down.
The steep ladders were easy for a cat, of course. Less so for a dog but a little pushing and murmuring directions, and Pip managed to descend, butt end first, with Grim sometimes guiding a back paw to the next rung. When they reached the bottom, in a far less plush and dimmer-lit corridor, Pip pranced, tongue out, tail wagging.
“Yes, very impressive,” Grim murmured under his breath. “Now watch those nails.”
Pip hesitated, looking back up at Silas and Darien’s level, his head cocked. In a carefully soft voice he said, “They’re happy, don’t you think?”
Grim restrained his impulse to say, “at least when they’re humping like bunnies,” because it was a good line, but a long way from the heart of the truth. “Yes, they are.”
“Will they stay that way?”
A parade of images passed in front of Grim’s eyes, futures seen, possibilities. Some fraught with danger, some dark with sorrow, but others where two elderly men with gray hair still climbed those mansion stairs together and locked the bedroom door. “I hope so, pup. But predicting the future is a fool’s game.” He glanced around. “They have two days on this ship without a demon or even another sorcerer in a thousand miles. They can make the most of that, and then let the chips fall where they may. And you and I will do the same.”
“Yes, Grim.”
“Right. This way.” He paused for one last look up to where he fully expected his necromancer and his sorcerer were making a very different kind of magic, though one perhaps no less powerful. Let those best visions be the truth. He lowered his voice further. “Now, look like you belong here, be confident, not sneaky. But silent. If someone catches a glimpse of us, they may not believe their eyes, or may decide it’s someone else’s problem.”
“Okay.”
He led the way down the hall toward the descent to the next level. “Did you know, big ships always used to have a cat on board.”
“They did?”
“Indeed.”
“Why?”
“Because, my young Pip, big ships carry food, and food attracts vermin. Rats, Pip. Ships like this have always had a rat problem, and we cats are the answer.”
“Dogs can be an answer too.”
He hid a smile in his whiskers. “So they can. Tonight, at least. The humans put traps out, and poison, so don’t eat any rodents you find. But some rats are too smart for humans. That’s where you and I come in.” He paused at the top of another shorter ladder, as the decks grew lower and more cramped. “Down this way, puppy. We’ll leave our men to their own fun for a while.” Their own fun, their own love, the center of the life we all share. He sent up one more good thought to the universe, then sharpened his gaze and let a feral grin take over his face. “You and I, puppy? We’re going hunting.”
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