Dark Waters Rising

Grey

"Come on," Wesley said, Evander's arm slung over his shoulder for balance as they crossed the street. "We have a very small window to catch The Blight of the Sea before she leaves port."

"The Blight of the Sea?" Ambrose asked. "As in Captain Cross? The most ruthless pirate of our day?"

"Yes," Wesley said, beginning to regret their decision to exchange Andromeda for his father. Well, it was her decision, really. And the books'. And it was necessary. 

"Why in the world would we seek help from him? He'd sooner kill us than agree!"

"Well, we're not asking him," Wesley said. "We're asking his former quartermaster, Cassius Grey. He's captain now."

"Is he dead then? Cross?" 

"He was," Wesley grumbled under his breath so low that only he could hear it. Then, clearing his throat, he said louder, "No. Just retired from pirating."

"People don't just retire from pirating," Ambrose said, disbelief in his tone. 

"They do for the people they love." 

Ambrose hummed in thought. "I pity the poor soul who would be cursed to love him."

"Then you pity me," Wesley nearly shouted. He felt hot anger churning inside him because of the slander directed at his mate. He knew better than to act on it, but it was proving difficult, especially with the emotional state he'd been in since seeing his father again. 

"Oh," was all Ambrose could say. 

Evander was wisely silent. 

"I'm sorry," Ambrose said after a moment. "I didn't realize."

Stormy blue irises flicked to the older man. "Is that all you have to say on it?"

"What else would I say?"

"I don't know." Wesley shrugged, eyes trained on the cobblestone street they followed. "I figured you might be disappointed to know your son chose the company of men over women. The company of a pirate no less."

"I have no right to judge your life choices after the ones I've made," Ambrose said simply.

Wesley knew why he felt angry. It was the years he'd grown up without his father, forced to be the man of the family and work himself to the bone to make ends meet for his mother and sister. His father had chosen to gallivant through a world full of magic instead of being with his family. Then to find out that the man had given up all of his memories, all of the precious moments they'd shared in his childhood, made Wesley feel worthless. 

As far as he was concerned, the man beside him was his father in blood only. He didn't care that he'd left in order to help Waverly. That he'd given up his memories to help Waverly. The man he knew as a child was dead. The memories were gone. There was nothing tying him to Ambrose Roberts but a bloodline and this bloody quest. 

"Let's just get to the next port. Do you see an open carriage anywhere?"

Ambrose's head turned to peer down either end of the street. Seeing a horse and buggy parked down the way, he jogged over to it with his hand raised, flagging it down for the pair of boys that were following behind at a much slower pace. 

"How long did it take my brother to get used to his legs?" Evander asked, leaning heavily on both Wesley and his cane for each step he took.

"I don't know," Wesley admitted. "By the time we met, he had me believing he was human."

Evander nodded. "I'll have to ask when we get back."

Wesley nodded, though he wasn't exactly sure that would be an option. The forces he was gathering would be the catalyst for starting the rebellion. A much needed distraction so that Valentine could put the final pieces into motion uninhibited. If he was able to see the siren again at all, he'd thank the gods for their luck, because there was bound to be a lot of chaos before the water cleared enough for them to meet again. 

After paying the driver a few coins, Wesley helped the young siren step up into the carriage and take a seat. He followed behind, and once Ambrose was also inside, he closed the door and banged on the ceiling to let the driver know they were ready to go.

"This is magical," Evander breathed with wide eyes as he pulled the curtain aside and peered out the side window. He sent a dazzling smile at some of ladies that were walking down the street before letting his eyes wander across the shops and signs they passed. 

"Ironically, this is the least magical thing we've done recently," Wesley said, watching the smaller version of Valentine with an amused and protective feeling in his chest. 

"Hey, it lets me see the city without exhausting my legs, so it's magical to me."

"Fair enough."

"I can see why Valentine is so eager to come back," the boy muttered. "It's so simple, but elaborate at the same time. I feel like I understand it all and none of it at the same time."

Evander wasn't sure any of that made sense, but it did to him. As they passed more signs, he again became overwhelmed with a desire to learn how to read. After a life under the sea, the human world fascinated him. The grittiness, the colors, the fact that one could not simply move up and down as they pleased. Everything was confined to a single plane of motion. Parallel to the ground. Fascinating.

It was all so different, and that was refreshing for the young prince. 

He was excited to see what this world had to offer next, and what this Cassius Grey person had to say about his brother and their plea. 

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A/N

Question: How many houses are you privy to the location of the silverware drawer?

Happy Wednesday,
-Mora Montgomery.