"You bitch," he gasped. A dark look came over his features. He sat up to kneel, growling low in his throat. Lina swallowed; before, he wanted to quiet her. Now their fight had changed.
A red light bloomed from atop the barrels above them. It shifted slowly, illuminating Lina and the pirate before her. She looked up to see the wide underbelly of a scryn.
The creature leapt. It screamed as it landed on the pirate, its manta-wings wrapping around his forehead. The man yelled and threw up his hands. It did no good. The scryn wrapped itself tight and lashed out with the sting on its tail whenever the pirate tried to grab it.
Behind her the barrels shifted. Some fell down in the paths off to the side. Warm yellow light illuminated the scene as Allen bulled through to stand above Lina.
"Lina! Oh good Goddess above!"
The enemy pirate stilled, his arms swollen from the poison of the scryn. Abruptly, the creature released him and he curled into a sobbing, bleeding ball. The serpentine creature flapped back from him to land on the deck between Lina and the pirate. It was covered in blood. The thing curled its wings around its body and sat upright.
"Chirr!" it said, happily. It flowed forward onto Lina's legs, then her chest and back. She held herself very still as it wrapped itself around her again, snuffling greedily at the hand that had held the flask.
Moving slowly, she picked the metal container up from the floor where it had fallen. The scryn perked up and she tipped the opening towards it. The scryn latched on greedily, like a baby with a bottle.
"Runt," she said quietly.
"What?" said Allen. The Brother of the Cog was almost beside himself in horror.
"I'm going to name him Runt," she said.
The pirate was still alive, amazingly. Runt calmed, drunk immediately off of the dregs of the flask and what it had sucked off of Natasha's Reaver. Lina sent Allen out to find the first crewmember he could. A few minutes later he returned with Ryan Gae.
Her friend leapt back in the doorway, fumbling at the cutlass at his side. "Lina! Get away from that!"
Lina held up her free hand. Runt was laying across her shoulders again, rumbling like a cat in contentment. "No, Ryan," she said. "This is the one from earlier, remember?" She beamed. "I'm keeping him. I named him Runt."
Ryan stared at her. His mouth pursed beneath his scruffy black beard. "Lina, you saw what happened. Those little monsters are dangerous."
Lina sighed. "Look, it's docile at the moment, and that's not why I had Allen go find you." She stepped aside so that he could see the unconscious, wounded pirate. "This fellow attacked me. I think he's one of Natasha's Reavers."
Ryan quieted immediately. "Stay right here," he said quietly. "I'm going to go get the gunnery mistress. You too, Mechanist."
Her friend drew his cutlass and shoved Allen into the small room, then left to go get more help. Sarah Lome arrived with him a few minutes later, and from the shouts up the hall it sounded like searches were being made of the remaining storerooms on this level. The huge piratess said nothing, only hoisted the Reaver over her shoulder and hauled him up to the deck. Lina followed, rubbing her pet on its sinuous neck just behind its head. The creature seemed to like the gesture, and belched contentedly now and again.
The Dawnhawk floated across the night sky of the Yulan. Darkness encompassed them, broken only by the pinprick lights of the stars and the few low lanterns lit on the deck of the ship. The Stormwall was somewhere to the west, the wreck of the Albatross hours to the south. The moon had yet to rise. It was warm here; each little breeze was more pleasant and cooling than it had been out over the sea. It smelled different, not briny, but instead carrying a rich scent of earth from the impenetrable jungle below. So many little things told them they were strangers here, tourists in this land.
Crewmen moved quietly about the ship. A few low gas-lamps had been lit in standing braziers along the centerline of the ship. Both shifts were out; having recaptured the Dawnhawk, any sense of urgency was lost. Those without obvious duties were belowdecks in the hold, counting the treasure from the Albatross.
Ryan, Sarah Lome, and two others hauled the stung Reaver up towards the captain at the bow of the ship. The three of them kept stealing looks back at her and her new pet; Gunny Lome shoved their captive forward. This might damage her standing with the crew a little, but Lina didn't particularly care. Runt was hers.
They reached the bow. Fengel stood there leaning over the gunwales and peering at something down below. Henry Smalls stood by, Fengel's faithful right hand, as always. Three stout pirates stood nearby, hands on a set of ropes tied off to a cleat down on the deck. The ropes ran over the bow. Lina heard faint yelling from that direction.