At first he had been reticent. She'd seemed wild, chaotic, truly her father's daughter. Quickly enough he realized she had a hard edge to her, and was capable of surprising shrewdness. He'd thought that over time maybe he could channel or curb her worst excesses, which often threatened her, her crew, and everyone else around. Mordecai suspected that he had been wrong.
But what could he do? She was his captain, and he didn't dare quit his post. Once word got out, he'd be lucky to find another berth in Haventown at all, much less one on a skyship. Euron still had quite a bit of sway, and Natasha wasn't one to ever forgive a slight. Mordecai thought dark thoughts and watched the jungle horizon.
Boot steps brought him back to the present. Guye Farrel was approaching him rapidly. Mordecai felt a small moment of glee at the prospect; the greenhorn pirate was the perfect outlet for his frustrations. He turned to snarl at the man, and paused.
Farrel was a wreck. Bandages covered his neck and lower jaw. He moved with a limp. Hair was missing in rough patches and wherever skin showed, he was covered in bruises.
"What in the Realms Below happened to you?" asked Mordecai.
The other pirate paused to take a labored breath. "The white ape. We killed one, but there was another hiding inside the frame."
"And it got you before it died?"
Farrel shook his head. "No, it drove us away. It's moved in up there now. The lookout has some sort of truce with it. I think it's eating the seabirds that land atop the frame."
Mordecai growled in exasperation. "Well then, what are you doing down here? Get back up there with some men and kill the thing!"
Guye Farrel winced. "Sir, lookout sent me to ask you to the bow. Fengel and his Men are being hauled into that temple."
Mordecai blinked. And what in the Realms Below do I care? But no. He glanced back to the helm. Natasha had already received the message, and she was striding up to the bow. He had to check her, keep her from doing something ruinous.
"Fine, then," he growled. He stalked off, hoping to make his way to the vantage point first.
Natasha beat him to it. Cursing silently to himself, Mordecai moved up beside her and the lookout, Farrel limping behind.
The lizard-creatures still gathered in the plaza below to point and jabber at the Dawnhawk. Above them, on top of the temple stair, a few others were still gathered, though the procession was making its way inside. Mordecai caught a glance of only one of the prisoners, a huge woman that could only be Sarah Lome.
They watched the last of Fengel's Men disappear inside, along with their captors. A single lizard-pygmy ran after them, having gathered up a shining golden object from one of the temple terraces.
"Well," Mordecai said. "That's that, then." He felt a little relief. Out of sight, out of mind.
Natasha drummed her fingers on the rail. "We should do something."
Mordecai turned to stare at her. His captain looked pensive. She stared down at the entrance to the temple and the lizard-creatures there. A small frown twisted her lips. He knew the look; she felt guilty.
"We could drop a lit keg into the temple. Or some other distraction. That should be more than enough an opportunity for him and his crew to use. I don't want to have to mount a rescue. That would be going a little far."
"What?" said Mordecai, aghast. "What are you...why are you even considering such actions?"
Natasha looked at him, almost surprised to find him there. Her face hardened, but the feelings underneath were visible. "Fengel knows where the Lantern is. If we leave him to his fate, we will never find the thing."
"To the Realms Below with the Governor's Lantern!" Mordecai almost yelled. "No. No! This is enough and more than enough! He's dead, or as good enough to us to be. Move on. Let's just go! Bury whatever wretched sensitivities you have for that fool and his stupid monocle, and just move on! We're pirates, after all!"
Natasha glared at him. "Mordecai. I have heard all that I care to hear from you. Go audit our food stores for the return trip."
"What? Don't be daft, woman—"
"I," she hissed, "am captain on this ship. I decide what ultimately needs to be done. Make yourself scarce, and that's an order. By the Goddess above, I'd be better served making that white ape first mate, I'm beginning to think."
Mordecai flushed. He stared at Natasha for a long moment. She met his gaze, daring him to defy her. "Very well, then," he said. Mordecai turned away woodenly, and strode down the deck.
She's well and truly gone. More than that, he could read the writing on the wall; he had no place at her side anymore.
The thought filled him with inchoate rage. Years, years he'd spent propping her up, slaying her foes, and maintaining her ship. The Dawnhawk, and the Cloud King before it. And just like that, it was at an end.