Cabin Fever

“Have at you, foul pirate!” The words rang out over the clash of swords and roar of the rolling waves. The scent of sweat and blood filled the air along with the ever present crisp smell of salt. A gallant figure stood at the wheel of the ship, the wind catching a long royal blue coat embroidered with gold, causing the tails to billow around the figure. He leapt to the railings, drawing his sword with a flourish, allowing the masterpiece of metalwork to catch the light and shine like a weapon from the heavens.

“You’ll not corrupt these seas again!” The man proclaimed as he landed squarely on deck, ready to hold back the shadowy sea bandit horde, “not while Captain Lash sails these waters. No wait.” He paused a moment, brows knitting together as he gazed up at the sky “The Great Captain Lash…Admiral?”

Laurence lowered his poker as the grand scenery of his imagination began to fade away, placing him in the quiet, unassuming study where he spent his days. His blue eyes gazed distantly toward the floor, his vision focused past the boards as he mumbled to himself, attempting to navigate the ranking system of the Navy.

“Aha!” he exclaimed suddenly and leapt up again to flourish the iron poker, ready once again to heroically face down an endless swarm of enemies. “I shall be the Grand Admiral Lash, protector of the seas, bastion of justice on the open waters, champion among men and lover of women!”

“Laurence dear, what are you doing?” A voice came from the door, causing the daydreaming fox to freeze, the fur on his neck and tail standing on end. He turned slowly to see a gorgeous feline leaning in the doorway, her sleek black fur causing her simple blue dress to stand out in stark contrast. Laurence paused for another moment as he met her eyes, caught up in her gaze. She had eyes a man could fall into, deep blue blending into a gold band around the iris. They called to something deep within him, something small, to wake and twist, though he could never really place what it was, just a small mysterious insistence of “more.” His whiskers twitched as he remembered the present and pulled himself to the surface again. He glanced to the poker in his hand, still poised like a sword from its sheathe. He quickly lowered his hand, looking sheepish as his brain began to spin, trying to work out an acceptable excuse for the scene his wife had walked in on.

“Oh, Aser, well you see dear, the fire was getting low and so I was just-“ he began, but it was too late. She had already reached her own conclusions.

“You’ve been playing games again, haven’t you?” She asked softly as she glided over the floor, soundlessly stepping toward him to gently place her hand on the poker handle. He forced himself to look away from her slightly disappointed face, keeping a loose grip on his imaginary weapon.

“Not play so much as, well... it’s just that…” he began to stumble over more excuses, desperately seeking a way out, a way to make her happy.

“You remember what the doctor told you.” She insisted over his mumbling.

“That I must rest. Yes dear.” He repeated the instructions obediently.

“You’ll never be over your fever if you keep prancing around like this.”

“Yes dear, but I-“ he began, but she cut him off again, taking the poker from his hand. She grasped his muzzle with her free hand gently guiding his gaze to stare into her eyes again.

“You are not Captain Lash, sailor of the four seas.” She insisted softly, “you are Laurence Shantay and you need to stop these silly games. You need to rest so your memories return.” Laurence’s ears twitched slightly as he gazed into her eyes before he relaxed and sighed softly.

“Yes dear,” he answered automatically as she stepped away to place the poker in its stand by the fireplace before stepping past him again. He watched her reflection in the mirror above the mantle a moment before shuffling back to his desk. Gazing over a small pile of papers as he sat, they seemed to have attempted to form into organized stacks, but had given up halfway through. He looked up as Aser paused in the doorway. She held his gaze silently for a moment before her lips pulled back into a slight smile.

“Everything will work out Laurence, trust me” she purred as she reassured him. “Just try to do a bit of work and see if that helps at all.” She instructed as she stepped out, shutting the door behind herself.

Laurence smiled weakly as he watched her leave before turning back to the papers and allowing his expression to fall again. Right, this wouldn’t be so bad. He’d just tackle a few papers and it would all come flooding back. This fever couldn’t beat him forever. He’d be an accountant, he’d get back to work, and he’d support Aser again.

He picked a random page from the pile and began to work, but soon his vision swam with incomprehensible numbers and phrases. He struggled to bring it all together, and make some form of sense from the dancing symbols upon the page, but it seemed the skills of accountancy eluded him. He leaned back in his chair with a sigh and gazed around the study as he rubbed his muzzle roughly in annoyance.

Laurence turned in his chair to gaze out the small window behind the desk. Waves gently broke upon the beach shore, a short distance from the house. Palm trees swayed in the wind, lonely figures on an empty beach. It was calm, picturesque, perfect, and bothersome. It was another thing he couldn’t place, but the emptiness of the beach had always bothered Laurence. Of course the beach would be empty, it was their private land. After they sold the assets in the city there had been enough for them to live comfortably in this seaside home. A private quiet retirement all so Laurence could recover from the terrible fever that had left him weak, taken his memories, and put most of the trip itself in a fog. It all made sense, logically, but still he couldn’t come to terms with the emptiness. The beach, the house, the isolation, it wasn’t peaceful, it was claustrophobic. That was the problem, he felt trapped.

Laurence stood abruptly from his chair, catching it before the momentum caused it to fall. He shook his head roughly to clear it and gently pushed the chair back into place beneath the desk. He headed for the door, sparring one last glance to the confounding papers lying in chaotic abandonment, before turning the knob. He opened the door half way, moving slowly as he slipped past. His ears swiveled back and forth as he listened for even the faintest sound. As he shifted his weight to the ball of his foot within the doorway, the ancient boards creaked beneath his feet. He pinned his ears and froze, but it was too late. Aser stepped out into the hall from a nearby room and folded her arms with a frown. Damnable floor boards! How did they always manage to creak for him and not her?

He gave Aser a sheepish smile as he straightened up and shut the study door.

“I just thought I might slip out for a walk along the beach. Clear my head a bit, get some fresh air, all that healthy er…stuff the doctor mentioned,” he hurried to explain. Aser’s expression didn’t change as she gazed back at him. “I’m not going to pretend I am a rogue captain burying treasure, or scouting an island, or general nautical things,” he added, ears beginning to droop under the withering effect of her gaze. “In fact, why don’t you join me dear?” he offered a hand out to her. Her expression softened slightly as he spoke, but she shook her head, brushing his hand away. A sharp feeling of disappointment welled up in his chest, but Laurence ignored it, gamely putting on a poker face to hide his feelings.

“I have a few things to do around the house” Aser explained patiently “but enjoy your walk darling; just don’t stay out too long.” Laurence stood silent for a moment before nodding and moving to step past toward the stairs.

“Yes, yes, of course, wouldn’t want to do that. I’ll be back soon dearest,” he insisted as he headed down the stairs, glancing back to see if perhaps she changed her mind, but she had already walked away and the hallway was empty. He shook his head and stepped out onto the porch, gazing out into the distance where the deep blue of the ocean met on the horizon with the light blue of the sky. He stood on the porch for a moment, taking time for the weighted feeling of disappointment to fully fade away, but it lingered, and with a weary sigh he stepped out onto the loose sands of the beach. They were warm beneath his feet as he began to walk aimlessly along the shore, allowing his mind to wander again, this time to the broken lured memories of his past. A series of blurred images, indistinguishable buildings, and vague faces, small inconsequential parts of what must had been his life in the city. The first clear memory he had was waking up in the hospital bed, Aser by his side. He’d managed to piece together his past life based on stories and explanations, a highly successful accountant in the city nearly killed by a sudden and terrible fever, blah blah blah. He couldn’t remember any of it, and as he strolled along the beach, letting the edges of the waves lap over his feet, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to. It all seemed so boring and pointless. Maybe this was a sign to make some changes, to go out and see the world, sail the seas, and do anything his heart desired.

A sharp pang of guilt stopped those particular thoughts, his ears drooping again as his thoughts turned to Aser. She’d sacrificed so much for him and now he was thinking of running away. He settled down beneath a palm tree, leaning back comfortably to watch the light shimmering over the waves, yawning as the steady ocean sounds put him into a drowsy stupor. It wasn’t so bad here, alone with his wife and this seaside paradise. Besides, sailing couldn’t be that wonderful. There were things like scurvy and moldy food, pirates and foreign diseases. What kind of nutcase would want that over a nice comfortable house? Some loony with brain damage maybe. He smiled to himself and yawned again, closing his heavy eyelids, just to rest them a moment, just a moment in this nice warm sunlight, listening to the rolling waves.

The waves crashed sending a flood of water over the deck, a cacophony of shouts went up over the din of the storm as the crew made sure no man had been swept away with the wave. The storm clouds above were so thick that the deck was bathed in darkness, lit only with a few lanterns and momentary blinding flashes as lightning arced across the sky. The wind howled, ripping at the cloth sails and tearing them to shreds.

“Rat!” The captain called out into the darkness, screaming to be heard above the din of the storm. His coat whipped and twisted around him as he grasped the spokes of the wheel in an increasingly useless attempt to control the ship. He turned his head against the stinging rain and called out again “One of you damn rope monkeys get up there with a spyglass and call!” he snarled as several crew members began to climb the rigging in an attempt to save the sails and look out for rocks or other hazards. “Rat, I need you up here!” the captain screamed out again as young brown rat hurried up to the wheel shielding his eyes from the rain with an arm.

“We’re taking on too much water!” Rat yelled over the wind.

“I need a direction or we’ll run right into the cliffs. I can’t see a bloody damn thing in this calamity!” The captain snarled as he tried to turn toward an oncoming wave ready to roll over the ship’s side. The ship creaked as it crested the wave before falling for a few moments to crash into the water again.

“I don’t know a direction. I’m as blind as you are!”

“We’ll have to do something. We have to find something, a landmark, anything is this hellish darkness. What the he-“ The captain began to exclaim as his vision was filled for a moment with a purple light before being replaced with a white hot flash and an earth shattering, ear crushing boom. For a second in time, there was nothing but whiteness and silence before vision slowly returned, blurry figures moving back and forth among flickers of orange light. A high pitch ring filled the silence as the scene grew clearer. The sails were ablaze and small fires had broken out on deck. One of the masts had been smashed at the base and was falling into the water, knots and lines snapping and bringing more flames down onto the deck. The ringing slowly faded and sound returned with a wave of incomprehensible noise, the boom of thunder, crackling of the fire, and the screams of the men ablaze combined in a harmony of chaos. The captain used his arms to slowly push himself up, and gazed at the destruction in stunned silence as the ship listed dangerously, water flooding onboard. Smoke billowed into the sky, lost in the storm clouds, as the ship began to sink.

Laurence woke with a start and looked around hastily, expecting to see dying men and broken timbers strewn around him. He sighed heavily and relaxed as he realized he was sitting beneath a palm tree on the beach far from any storm or ocean tragedy. He rubbed his eyes in an attempt to rid them of their heavy feeling but stiffened as he opened his eyes again, his gaze falling on a scar on his arm. He frowned, brow furrowing as he brushed the fur on his arm gently, fingers tracing over the scar. It was an unremarkable scar. It wasn’t gruesome, or nasty, but a small light scar falling over his wrist, faded as if it were old, except Laurence did not remember where it had come from. Had it been there before? Surely he would have noticed.

Laurence stood worriedly and headed back to the house. How did a scar just randomly appear? Perhaps it had always been there. Perhaps this was another symptom, something new. Maybe Aser was right and he shouldn’t be playing games and losing himself in imagination. He shook his head again to clear it before walking into the house. No he’d figure this out; it must have slipped his mind. No reason to make such a big deal over something so small.

He headed up the stairs and looked around thoughtfully as the boards creaked softly beneath his feet.

“Aser?” he called out as he began to walk toward the study again.

“Oh there you are Laurence” her voice came from behind “I was getting worried.” He turned and smiled ears and whiskers drawn back with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry my love; I fell asleep on the beach.” He replied apologetically as she raised a slender eyebrow.

“Are you feeling alright dear?”

“Yes” he replied immediately before hesitating and looking away toward the floor. “Well, no” he amended “I sort of have this new scar.”

“You cut yourself while sleeping?” Aser asked in a tone that was almost painfully incredulous, twisting the words into a new question ‘you can’t really be that foolish, are you lying?’ Laurence looked up again meeting her eyes earnestly and for a moment fell into those deep blue pools. He pulled himself back, and shook his head quickly.

“No, no, not at all, really” he insisted. “I fell asleep and when I woke there was this scar on my, um…” he raised his hand to demonstrate the scar but the fur remained smooth and unmarred. He ran his fingers over the wrist a moment before glancing up at her “um…” he faltered again then smiled and chuckled. “Must have been a dream” he finished lamely as he turned to gaze at his arm again. Aser stepped up, touching his chin before gently lifting it so he was once again gazing into her eyes.

“Laurence” she spoke softly, her voice lulling him to relax, “All these silly ideas of a hard life on the seas are getting to you. Don’t you enjoy it here, with me?”

“Yes dear,” he replied automatically, the words falling from his mouth without any thought.

She moved closer putting her arms around his neck “Relax Laurence, stop these flights of fancy and enjoy your life here.” She said firmly. He nodded and smiled before leaning in, but stopped as she smiled and touched his nose with a finger.

“Perhaps it would be better if you took some quiet time to settle yourself” she said softly. “I’ll see you after I finish my work.” Laurence nodded in answer and stepped away, trying to hide his disappointment again.

“I should try to get some work done as well. Try to get a bit of momentum going” he said as he shuffled back to the study. He didn’t really want to go back to work, but honestly didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t want to be alone, though he did dare try to interrupt Aser from her work. He lowered himself into his chair and gazed out the window, his fingers brushing over his wrist gently.

His thoughts turned back to the dream. It had been so vivid, each blinding flash revealing the scenes of destruction. The smell of burning sails and flesh were still present in his mind, the dying screams of men were still ringing in his ears. Why would he have dreamed of something so horrific? So much gore, so much death. He rubbed his eyes and turned from the window, his gaze meeting those of his reflection in the mirror above the mantle. He did not look well really; no wonder Aser always seemed so worried. His eyes seemed to be reddening at the edges and he was developing visible pouches beneath the eyes. He frowned a bit and rubbed his muzzle as he looked at the papers on his desk again, still laying haphazardly over the desk, just as he had left them earlier that day. He leaned forward to rest his arms on the desk and picked up his fountain pen, refilled the ink again and started to write.

The room was silent except for the steady ticking of the clock and the quiet scratching on the pen nib upon paper. Laurence did his best to concentrate and keep his mind off the nightmare, or his ever present day dreams. The hours began to blend together as Laurence lost himself to the ever present, intrusive, ticking of the clock.

A sudden crash caused Laurence start. His eyes took a moment to focus as he realized the room had grown dark, illuminated only by the fading embers of the fire. He sighed rubbing his eyes cursing himself for falling asleep at the desk again. He stood to shuffle to the fireplace with a weary gait and stir the logs with the poker, bringing the flames to life once more. Another crash downstairs pulled his mind from his sleep troubles and back to the present. He clutched the poker close as he crept toward the door to crack it open as he listened intently for the source of the noise.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears as his gaze darted around the darkness, focusing down the hall to the bedroom door where Aser would be sleeping. His eyes narrowed as he stepped out, moving low and close to the wall as he moved toward the bedroom, his thoughts buzzing in his head, forcing their way to the forefront of his brain. Was Aser alright? Was it an animal? Who would break into their private beach?

He moved slowly, toes splayed out as he shifted his weight with agonizing patience, careful not to disturb the old floor boards. Each moment seemed like an eternity as his ears turned and swiveled. They pinned at the sound of a soft faint creak from behind. His lip twitched slightly, curling upward for a brief moment. Another faint crick from those wonderful, damnable, floorboards, Laurence turned, brandishing his poker at the figure, standing in the hallway, bathed in shadows. The figure shifted a moment turning to meet his gaze in the darkness, the dim light reflecting in his eyes for a second before he sprang forward. Laurence jerked back, bringing the poker up instinctively to block a sword, but the sword blow never came. The figure grabbed his wrist roughly, using the spare hand to clasp his muzzle shut. Laurence struggled, pulling back and using his spare hand to dig his claws into the unfamiliar hand and free his muzzle from the viselike grip. He managed a muffled cry as the figure gripped harder despite the claws.

“Shh” the figure hissed as he pushed Laurence back toward the study, shoving his roughly through the door, “And stop with the claws,” he added as he closed the door with a foot. The light of the fireplace illuminated the mysterious figure, an unimpressive, ragged, rat, dressed in threadbare clothes that had been patched and repatched time and time again. The only thing of value on him seemed to be the pistol and sword hung loosely from his belt. Laurence narrowed his eyes as he took this in, the man meeting his gaze a moment. “Lash, it’s me. Rat.” he insisted as he loosened his grip on Laurence’s muzzle.

Laurence jerked away to free himself, and bared his fangs and he sucked in air, readying himself to yell to Aser, tell her to get safe, but paused holding his call for a moment. Lash?

“How do you know that name?” He asked slowly as he took in the man’s appearance again. Hadn’t he seen this man before? Then suddenly it hit him. This was the same man from his dream, though looking much worse for the wear. Laurence stared, “that’s not possible” he stepped back, backing into the door and slowly sinking down to the floor.

“How the hell could I not know you Lash? Now come on we gotta get out of here before she notices” Rat insisted as he stepped up grabbing Laurence’s arm to pull him up again.

“What are you talking about?” Laurence spluttered as he stood “Before who notices? How can you even be here?” Rat pinned his ears with a hiss as he tried to shush Laurence again, looking Laurence up and down for a tense moment before frowning.

“What did she do to you?” he asked glancing again to Laurence’s vest and tie.

“Who?!” Laurence demanded again, refusing to be shushed.

“Shht” Rat hissed and moved to try and grab Laurence’s muzzle again to force him to be quiet “Aser, you fool, the witch of the eastern seas!”

“That’s my wife!” Laurence snarled baring his teeth slightly as he grabbed Rat’s arm, stopping the man from shutting him up once again. Rat tried to pull away, his eyes wide with shock as if Laurence had just slapped him across the face. Laurence took advantage of the situation and grabbed his shirt, pushing him back several paces to shove him against the mantle so forcibly the mirror above wobbled forward dangerously. “Now tell me how you know that name” he insisted. Rat gazed back with a frown, his brow knitting slightly as his ears drooped.

“You mean your name, Lash?” He whispered back. “She isn’t your wife; she has you under a spell.”

“No, that…that can’t be true. “ Laurence frowned at him before releasing Rat again to turn away. “This must be the fever. I’m dreaming again” he said softly as he tried to come to terms with a fictional man telling him his wife was a witch.

“Fever? Really?” Rat spoke up, voice dripping with incredulity. Clearly this was the most stupid thing he had ever heard.

“Look just, shut up you!” Laurence snapped at him.

“Shh!” Rat hissed again.

“Stop shushing me!”

“Stop yelling! Look we don’t have time to go through all this you damn fool. You’re not, whatever the hell this is supposed to be” he gestured to Laurence’s clothes. “The charm won’t last long, she’s going to find us soon, we have to get out of here Lash” Rat insisted.

“Accountant…” Laurence mumbled.

“What?”

“I’m an accountant”

“You bloody well are not and we need to get out of here before-“Rat froze suddenly, hand going to the sword at his waist as his eyes narrowed, focusing on something just past Laurence’s shoulder. Laurence turned with a blink to see Aser standing in the room, arms folded as the firelight danced over her dark fur. Laurence glanced to the door and back to Aser. Had the door opened at all?

“You!” She pointed at Rat, eyes glaring daggers, “How dare you enter my home!” Laurence stared at her expression. He had never seen her so angry before. It was strange; it seemed to twist her features. She looked darker, sharper, and more dangerous. Was that really Aser? How could he have wanted to please that so much?

“I’m here to get Lash back you witch, and avenge our crew!” Rat snarled back at her as he grasped the hilt of his sword, preparing to draw.

“Laurence are you going to let this common scum pull a sword on me?” Aser asked turning to Laurence, her sharp expression having softened, imploring him to protect her. He turned to Rat, automatically moving to stop him from drawing the sword. Rat shoved him hard to push him away.

“Stop it” Rat snarled “Lash, you’ve got to break loose from this spell”

“How could you say such a thing, why would I put a spell on my dear husband?”

“You’re nothing but a dirty witch!” Aser’s eyes flashed and her expression sharpened again. The argument rolled over Laurence like a fog. This was too much to process. Nothing was making sense and everything felt wrong. He watched as Rat pulled a knife from his belt and in one swift motion released the blade, aimed for her heart.

“Wait no!” he protested and leapt forward to block the knife, but as he moved Aser melted away, her form evaporating into misty wisps and flitting over the floor towards the other end of the room. Laurence turned mid-motion to follow the wisp across the room and watched as the mists drew together and Aser reformed, this time with a gorgeous cutlass in hand, bright silver blade set with a gold and brass hilt, with a single sapphire placed into the pommel.

As he stared at her Laurence slowly began to understand. No wonder he never heard her coming. Of course she had never stepped on the creaking boards; she never had to take a step at all. All those tiny inconsistencies made sense. She gazed back before looking over to Rat.

“Oh look what you made me do. Now I’ll have to kill you both” she pouted before stepping forward suddenly to strike like a viper. Laurence jumped back, the sword whistling in the air so close that he felt the breeze on his nose. He fell back tripping over his feet and landing hard on his backside. His eyes went wide as she brought the sword down, He cringed as he anticipated the blow, but before the metal could slice through there was an ear shattering clang. Laurence looked up to see Rat had blocked the blow with his own sword and struck out at Aser again.

“Wh-what” Laurence squeaked, his hands were shaking as he tried to push himself up. Aser glanced at him as she deftly blocked Rat’s strike. Her eyes were sharp, dangerous, no longer the relaxing pools he longed to fall into, but the deadly eyes of a predator.

“I’m sorry dear, but I can’t have defective toys” She commented lightly as she caught Rat’s sword with her own before shoving him back against the desk with a loud crack as his head connected with the solid oak. Rat slumped down to the floor slowly, dazed by the strike. Aser turned on Laurence again “and you were so terribly stubborn, always wanting to run back to your dirty nasty old habits. It was all I could do to convince you to stay.” She stepped forward casually, her voice remaining calm. Laurence caught the flash in her eyes at the last moment, leaping to his feet and away again just as she brought the sword down again. He barely escaped the blade’s edge as the sword cut through the fabric of his vest and shirt without any resistance. He fell forward, unable to stop his momentum he ran into the mantle, this time bringing the mirror down onto him, the glass shattering around him as he collapsed.

Laurence groaned as he pushed the frame away and slowly stood, glass shards tinkling as they fell around his feet. The remnants of his shirt and vest fell away from his body and he paused, something strange stood out in the corner of his eyes. He turned slightly to see the few shards still attached to the mirror frame, reflecting the image of his back. Scars crisscrossed over the muscle and spine, skin puckered, fur no longer growing, the skin tone faded on the raised wounds. These were old lashing scars.

His knees went weak as something snapped in his head. The memories all can rushing back and felt as if they were being pushed physically into his skull through a pinpoint between his eyes. The old lashing scars from his childhood, his own namesake, the product of life on the open sea. He remembered it now; lightning had struck the ship, shattering the deck, the sails aflame. In the smoke and chaos she had stepped onto the deck. The ship was sinking, the men were dying, and she just stepped up as if it none of it was happening and simply took him away, back to the island. She took his sword and made him forget.

She’d taken his sword. Lash’s eyes cleared again suddenly, narrowing to focus on Aser. She just stood at the center of the room, sword hanging limply in her hand. She smiled coldly, showing her fangs. “Nice to see you again Captain” she twirled the sword “oh or was it admiral, no grand admiral, emperor now perhaps?” she added with a condescending laugh. Lash just moved slowly to collect the discarded poker from nearby. “You may as well pick something fantastic now that your ship is gone,” She continued to taunt.

“I can get another ship” he replied calmly as he held up the poker pulling the rest of the shirt away to keep the fabric from catching at his arms.

“Oh poor Lash, still dreaming. Dead men don’t sail ships you know.” She shook her head “It really is too bad, you would have made such a wonderful pet. Your looks could have kept for years.” Lash didn’t reply but just grinned. Aser stopped smiling and frowned. “What are you smiling about?” she demanded

“It’s a story” Lash replied lightly.

“What?”

“It’s a day dream, a fairy tale, and everyone knows the dashing hero will beat the evil witch. I’ll be fine.” He chuckled as her eyes flashed; managing to accomplish what she had been trying to do. She struck suddenly, the sword whistling as she swung. Lash moved fluidly, stepping away lightly and bringing the poker up to block the strike. He danced over the floorboards, blocking and parrying easily as Aser continued trying to disembowel him. As Lash danced and twirled his makeshift sword, Rat slowly began to come to. He rubbed his head and looked up at them blurrily. Aser glanced over as the movement caught her eye and grinned, stepping away from Lash, her intent was clear. If she couldn’t out fight Lash, she could easily run Rat through.

Lash scowled and tightened his grip on his poker moving to get in the way and block his friend as Rat tried to stand on wobbling legs, a shaky hand going to a worn flintlock pistol shoved into his belt. Aser was on him ready to strike, still too far for Lash to block in time. Lash panicked and in a final desperate act threw the poker, the solid iron bar turning end over end and aimed straight for her head, but before it could strike she melted away again, shadowy mists wisping away across the room again to form by the door. She grinned at them, fangs glinting, her eyes slits.

“How could you fools possibly win when you could never land a blow?” she asked coldly. Rat squinted at her as he carefully tried to pull back the hammer with his shaking hands.

“It’s iron” Rat mumbled as he raised the gun and started trying to aim. Lash glanced at it and grabbed the pistol from the rodent’s shaking hand before rushing forward toward Aser. She smiled again and brought the sword up. Lash ducked suddenly as she swiped, pinning his ears as a sharp sting indicated the sword had nicked the tips. He brought the gun up, burying the muzzle into her chest, over the heart, and pulled the trigger. The hammer snapped down and Aser’s eyes went wide as her form exploded into a cloud of water droplets raining onto the floor. The sword fell and buried itself into the wood floor with a dull thud.

Lash took a moment to catch his breath, the fur on his back and tail stood on end as he scanned the room, ears roving, as he desperately searched for any sign of another reformation. The steady ticking of the mantle clock pierced the silence, punctuating the nerve-wracking moments. Finally Lash turned and grasped his sword hilt with his free hand wrenching the blade from the wood before walking back to Rat.

“What’s iron supposed to do?” he asked after a moment as he held the pistol out to return it. Rat looked up at him, taking a moment to focus.

“I dunno, read it in a book once. Something with magic. Slows her down” he mumbled as he took the gun back and shoved it back into his belt.

“So she’s not dead” Lash asked carefully as he glanced around. Rat just shook his head slowly,

“Don’t think so, just injured”

“Then we better run”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Rat shook his head as Lash put an arm around his shoulders to help him walk as they hurried out to escape the gilded cage. Rat was silent as he led Lash over the beach toward a small boat, hidden away in a small cove too far from the house to be seen.

“Hey” Rat spoke up as they both swam out to the small vessel bobbing gently on the waves.

“Huh?” Lash began to climb up onto the deck and turned to help Rat back onto the boat.

“Remember me again?” Rat looked up at him earnestly. Lash smiled and nodded as he hauled him up.

“Aye, Rat.”

“Good, wouldn’t want to lose you again,” Rat said lightly as he hurried to tiller as Lash prepared the mainsail. “She’s going to be pissed when she pulls herself together.” Rat added after a while, looking over, his brow creased with worry. Lash nodded as he tied the main sheet and moved on to grab the jib sheet.

“We have to get out of her waters and somewhere safe.”

“West then,” Rat agreed and set them on the right course, sailing away from the rising sun and that terrible island. “Welcome back Cap’n”