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Some Alone Time — Description
H.M.S. Raven: Day 23 – Mandatory Vacation Period
The dim lights played over the inner hull of the ship casting shadows that danced across the floor and surrounding crates. It had taken her best tricks to keep Gus away from her inner sanctum, though not what was used to when dealing with her abilities to create, she was still quite proud of it. An array of various cushions covered the floor between the stacked crates, those she had covered in an assortment of red velvet cloth and several candles she had procured from storage. Over this she had draped a fine whisper silk cloth that caught the light, turning it inwards and creating a warm glow to ripple through the fabric.

Now all she had to do was bait her victim down here. What would normally be a simple task of reaching out and calling to him was made doubly hard with her lack of a voice. No. Other subtleties would have to serve here. Locating him in the kitchen galley she, began by doubling back, and setting out a fine trail of rose petals leading down to the hold. Care was required, though the wind was with her, keeping her scent off his sensitive nose.

Her trail established and with daylight giving way to full night Sirse slipped back into her sanctum and waited. It felt odd not being able to connect with her other side, as though being blind in one eye as well as mute.

Sirse’s hand moved to touch her throat, mute. Mute and powerless, and on vacation. Mandatory vacation for dereliction of duty. Emotional instability, rash decision making, and several other issues that had been generated over the last year. ‘Go and rest.’ Her employer had instructed her. ‘Then come back when you have a clear head. That’s an order.’

It had been almost a month at sea in the Caribbean shallows now, island hopping, diving, setting up tents on the beach when the ship was moored in a lagoon, or some cay that they had chanced upon. Sirse lay back and wondered, what was her employer doing right now? Probably getting himself into trouble without her. Probably doing half the things she had learned to warn him against. Probably- she let the thought slide away. You are supposed to be relaxing, she told herself. Still she found it hard to do, she still felt wound tight inside. She needed a distraction, now, this day more than any day.

She had almost forgotten it, so easy to do when adrift without purpose to drive her. Valentines Day, and it seemed her employer had not seen fit to furnish the ship with an excess of cards, or associated gifts for the occasion. Though, now that she though about it, he had never taken much liking to the holiday.

‘Bloody accursed day of days.’ She recalled him muttering as he busied himself with making a mess of the files on his desk. Files he had spent hours organizing before. ‘All went down hill when they stopped feeding people to the lions. Sirse – Make a note of that: Petition Mayor Lion Heart to reinstate feeding mammals to carnivores on such occasions as this.’

The thought made her smile. To this day she was not sure if he had been serious or not, though dutifully she had sent the appeal in. The response would have been funny, though the current mayor seemed to not find the subject of devouring other sentient mammals to be very amusing.

A sound of the stairwell’s floorboards creaking drew her attention from the past. Had he come at last?