God's Forsaken

Chapter Eighteen

There were advantages to having a spirit rooted into a ship. Ingrained magic reinforced the hull into a durable shell. When Vipa went under the Truffle, she found its bottom cracked and damaged. Yet, an inside examination of the decks revealed that only a few narrow rips punctured the hull. A small amount of water seeped through, but a bit of tar fixed that problem easily.

Vipa returned to the top deck where she found Michel. Staring through binoculars, he studied the island shore. Wooden dummy logs, planted in the sand, had been set along the beach. By eye, Vipa guessed the distance between the ship and the marked targets was twenty meters. Michel looped the binocular around his neck before lifting his rifle. Anything short of a demon perished under his rapid fire.

Tense silence filled the air as Vipa approached the assassin. She always knew him to be a little off-putting, but his eyes, glazed over with an icy sheet, startled her. Of course, the huntress refused to be scared off. She leaned upon the railing with a welcoming grin. Mock tranquility ruled between them as gunshots punctured the air.

"Well." Drumming her fingers on her arms, Vipa stared at the splintered dummies. "We're alive." The assassin nodded curtly. "And we now know what to expect the next time we meet Tragun." A distant thunk answered her. The huntress questioned who the assassin wished the bullets for. "Aren't we sullen? Not used to your targets getting away?" That earned a grunt.

Sighing, the huntress glanced around the ship for Truffle. Warm company was needed, but her cat had disappeared last night - probably off to nurture her wounds from the failed invasion. Pushing off the railing, the huntress' gaze turned to the steering wheel. Ozresbet and Sainh, seated on the ground, stared at the cards in their hands. Neither had risked a move in the last half hour.

"You know," started Vipa, "we need a quick vacation!" Vipa clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. "Anywhere will do. Might even head to the mainland." Bellowing gunshots matched the apathetic expression of their master. Vipa patted Michel on the back with a winning grin. "Better yet, you can make the suggestion."

Michel's trigger finger froze. A startled shout came from the poker players, but a thunk cut it off. Glancing to the huntress, the assassin searched her face for any tricks. Sincere warmth beamed from the huntress's smile to convey her good will. The assassin propped his gun upon the railing.

"Explain," demanded the angel.

"I've dragged you on this trip." Vipa, due to height differences, hugged Michel around the wrist. "And you're not my slave. I have no right to be a bitch like that. So choose a place, anywhere in the region, to go to. Heck, we can go to the Yactum Peninsula if you like." Pulling away, the huntress flicked her hand to the north. "The Barrol Alliance has a few cities and towns allied to them there. If we show them proof of citizenship, we can go."

Slowly, as if to make sure he had heard Vipa correctly, Michel asked, "Anywhere at all?"

"I trust you." Vipa cracked her knuckles upon her chest. "Do you trust me?"

Snorting, the assassin propped his back upon the railing. "There are people out there looking for us."

"Including your friends?"

Michel started to take his gun apart. "How long have you known?"

Chuckling, the huntress knocked the side of her head. "I'm blunt, not dumb. How else did you get poison for yourself that you trusted not to kill you? You don't go to strangers for that."

"Fair enough," commented Michel. The ice in his eyes started to melt. Plain as he may be, Vipa found his small, ghostly smile to be enduring. "I have a place I would like to visit, but if we go you have to promise me something."