Solstice, Book 1: A Prince, A Thief, Etcetera

Chapter 3: Answers at Last

Below decks, the Crimson Lady was not at all like what Levi was expecting. For one thing, it was much more spacious than it appeared from outside. The hull was bisected by a plush hallway that looked about twice as long as it should be, complete with a floral patterned strip of carpet and heavy wooden doors along the walls down both sides.

Levi descended the steps slowly, making his way from the upper decks to the bow--what Lindel had called the forecastle, and where he'd said Levi would find his room. He walked as if in a dream, because that's exactly what it felt like. Being abruptly woken after the second worst day of life, only to be tossed onto a magic ship, or schooner, or whatever this was, then plunging out into the black and dreary ocean--that couldn't have been real.

He knew that he shouldn't trust them. Peculiar or not, this experience was still the most terrifying of his life. But it was something else too. It was exciting. Absurdly, Levi felt excited.

He knew that feeling was all wrong as well, and that it probably meant he was mad. Any normal person would probably be panicking right now, or desperately searching for some way to escape, even though there clearly was none. But with each passing minute, he could feel his fears slowly being washed away, as if by passing waves. He supposed, after all he'd been through over the past twenty-four hours, he needed someone to trust. And being alone with Lindel and Ferrus out in the middle of the ocean, what choice did he have, really, but to trust them?

He reached the bottom of the steep staircase and found himself in a narrow wooden corridor, dimly lit by the flickering light of a few torches hanging from the low ceiling. The floor rocked significantly, and it was hard to keep a steady footing. Levi sincerely hoped that he wouldn't get seasick. Even though he'd lived near the coast his whole life, he didn't have much seafaring experience, but so far he had managed to keep down his dinner. Or lack thereof. Blimey, he was hungry.

The hallway was narrow enough that he could reach both walls at once if he stretched out both his hands, which he did for balance as he stood on the creaking, swaying floor, trying not to fall over. Lindel had told him that he would find a washroom immediately to his right at the bottom of the stairs, and there was in fact a small, wooden door there. Levi pushed it open, and stepped carefully inside.

The small, cramped room was dimly lit by a single candle fixed to the far wall, and instead of a toilet and sink, there was a hole in the floor and a washing basin situated in front of a mirror. Sitting on the edge of the basin was a small bottle full of a murky, blue liquid. The bottle had a hand-written label fixed to it that said, Poultice de Danann: abrasion repair.

He studied his reflection in the mirror. The painful souvenirs left from his encounter with Bradley and his gang were still evident on his face. His right eye was swollen and the skin around it had a yellowish tinge. There was a crusting of dried blood under his nose and on his chin, and his lip was split. Both cheeks were also red and lined with lacerations. He looked again at the bottle labeled Elixir Cream. Was that supposed to be some sort of medical ointment? He pulled out the cork with a loud pop and sniffed at its contents. He had expected it to smell bitter and foul, the way medicines usually do, but to his surprise it was sweeter than the sweetest flower he had ever pressed to his nose. Cautiously, he coaxed a drop of whatever it was onto his finger and gingerly touched it to his cheek. Immediately, the spot where his finger touched began to bubble and smoke.

Panicking, Levi dropped the bottle and hastily tried to rub the stuff off, but not a moment later the bubbles cleared, leaving behind perfectly smooth skin, with no signs of injury whatsoever. Amazed, Levi quickly snatched the bottle back up before much of its contents could spill out and began dabbing the liquid to other parts of his face--his eye, his lip, his nose. Everywhere the potion touched, it had the same effect. It bubbled and smoked and completely healed his wounds. Soon, his face looked as though he had never had a run-in with Bradley at all. He chuckled giddily and marveled at the now almost empty bottle. What are these guys? He wondered again. Did they make this stuff? And why aren't they selling it and making a fortune? It heals like magic. With these thoughts buzzing in his head, he stepped back into the hallway.