The Undead Captain Takes No Living - Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Ghost Port was not a port.

It was more like an old painting left to rot in seawater.

When the Ghost Ship passed beneath Sunken Bell Reef, I saw another sky reflected on the water.

There was no sun in that sky.

Only a gray-white moon, hanging so low it looked ready to smash down at any moment.

The harbor emerged from the fog.

Wooden posts, lanterns, tavern banners, fish stalls.

Every single thing looked like the human world.

And every single thing was wrong.

What lay on the fish stall were human shadows.

Beneath the tavern banner sat headless customers.

What burned inside the lanterns was not fire, but closed eyes.

I stood at the bow, gripping Leon’s ledger in my hand.

Victor had been tied up by Gloria with chains beside the mast.

He said he was here to help.

Gloria said, “I’m helping you stay in place.”

I thought Gloria was being very polite about it.

Cedric draped a black cloak over my shoulders.

The cloak was very old, with fine silver thread sewn into the lining.

I asked, “What’s this?”

“It hides the scent of the living.”

“Yours?”

“Mm.”

“Then what about you?”

He did not answer.

He was always like this.

When he did not want to speak, he simply put his silence in front of you.

But this time, I did not want to let him off.

I grabbed his sleeve.

“If you give me the cloak, will Ghost Port recognize you?”

He lowered his head to look at my hand.

Only then did I realize how tightly I was holding on.

So tightly that his sleeve had wrinkled.

I let go.

“Sorry.”

“It won’t.”

He said.

I looked up.

He added, “I’m dead.”

He said it very softly.

As if he were afraid of frightening me.

But my chest tightened instead.

The little boy at the bottom of the well seven years ago, the one who could not speak, should not have become like this.

Back then, he had still been warm.

His palms had been filthy and his fingers thin, but he would still carefully hide the red thread inside his sleeve.

I asked, “When did you die?”

Gloria suddenly coughed hard beside us.

I looked at her.

She turned her head and looked at the sky.

What was there to see in Ghost Port’s sky?

Cedric said, “Three years ago.”

I froze.

“When you boarded the ship with my brother?”

“Mm.”

“Who killed you?”

He paused.

“I did.”

The ship docked.

A row of wet wooden ladders stretched out from the pier of Ghost Port.

Cedric went down first.

The moment his foot touched the wooden ladder, the entire port fell silent for an instant.

The headless customers stopped drinking.

The stall owner selling shadows lifted his face.

The eyes inside the lanterns opened one by one.

They were all looking at him.

I followed him off the ship.

The moment my feet touched the ground, something brushed my ankle.

I looked down.

A small hand reached out from between the planks and grabbed my shoe.

“Big sister, want to buy a shadow?”

I took half a step back.

Cedric lifted his hand, and black fog pressed down.

The hand shrank back into the gap.

Gloria whispered, “Don’t agree to any deals in Ghost Port.”

I nodded.

“And don’t call anyone by name.”

I nodded again.

“And don’t look back.”

I could not help looking at her.

“Anything else?”

Gloria thought for a moment.

“Don’t die.”

“I’ll do my best.”

We entered the port.

Victor was left on the ship.

He was not happy about it.

Gloria stuffed his mouth with a wad of torn cloth.

I glanced back.

Victor was cursing up a storm with his eyes.

Cedric took me to a pawnshop.

A sign hung at the entrance.

We Pawn Only the Affairs of the Living.

The shopkeeper was a short, thin old man wearing three masks on his face.

Joy, anger, and sorrow.

When he saw Cedric, all three masks smiled at once.

“Captain Lu. It’s been a long time.”

Cedric placed Leon’s bronze token on the counter.

“I’m looking for someone.”

The shopkeeper’s fingers stroked the bronze token.

“Leon, is it?”

I immediately stepped forward.

“Where is he?”

The shopkeeper’s three masks swiveled toward me simultaneously.

“A living person?”

Cedric pressed down on the counter.
Wood groaned in protest.
The shopkeeper laughed even more cheerfully.

“Patience, patience. Ghost Port does business honestly, cheating neither old nor young.”

“The price.”

Cedric said.

The shopkeeper extended one finger.

“A memory.”

I asked, “Whose?”

The shopkeeper looked at me.

“Hers.”

Cedric immediately said, “No.”

But I asked, “Which one?”

The shopkeeper said, “The one where she saved you.”

The room fell silent.

Cedric’s hand slowly clenched.

I understood.

Ghost Port didn’t want an ordinary memory of mine.
It wanted that moment at the bottom of the well, seven years ago.
Before Cedric became an Undead Captain, the last shred of his living past.

I asked the shopkeeper, “What happens if I give it?”

“You’ll forget him.”

The shopkeeper smiled.

“Forget him completely.”

I looked at Cedric.
He didn’t look at me.
He only stared at the brass plaque on the counter.

Suddenly I felt a small ache.
Not because I would forget.
But because I realized he seemed to have long grown accustomed to being left behind.
Left at the bottom of a well.
Left on a ship.
Left outside Ghost Port.
Now even a shred of the past where someone remembered him could be traded away.

I pressed my palm on the counter.

“Something else.”

The shopkeeper shook his head.

“Only this.”

“Then no deal.”

I picked up the brass plaque and turned to leave.

The shopkeeper’s voice came from behind.

“Leon only has three days left.”

My steps halted.

“In three days, he will become a Port Gate.”

I turned back.

The shopkeeper’s three masks pressed together, laughing softly.

“When that happens, Ghost Port will be able to open into the human world.”

Cedric grabbed me.

“Let’s go.”

I looked at the shopkeeper.

“Without my memory, could you still find someone?”

The shopkeeper didn’t answer.

I smiled slightly.

“So that’s a yes.”

From my sleeve I produced the cracked seashell.

“Will you buy this?”

The shopkeeper’s laughter stopped.

Cedric said in a low voice, “Ilya.”

I ignored him.
I placed the shell on the counter.

“Leon sent this to me. It holds water from Ghost Port, and his voice.”

The eyes inside the shopkeeper’s three masks narrowed simultaneously.

“What do you want in exchange?”

“Leon’s location.”

“Not enough.”

I raised the Soul-Crossing Blade and cut my fingertip.
Blood dripped onto the shell.

Suddenly the shell emitted a faint, high ring.

Every lantern in the pawnshop dimmed.

The shopkeeper stepped back half a pace.

“Soul-Ferrying Blood.”

Cedric seized my hand.
For the first time his voice carried real anger.

“Who told you to spill blood?”

I flared back.

“What else? Sell you?”

He froze.

I pointed at the shopkeeper.

“Deal?”

The shopkeeper stared at the shell and the blood, then slowly smiled.

“Deal.”

The brass plaque on the counter suddenly flipped over.
A new line of text appeared on its back.

Third Street, Flaying Theater.

The shopkeeper took the shell away.

Cedric still held my hand, very tightly.

I winced at the pain.

He let go at once.

“Sorry.”

I looked at him.

“You scared me.”

He pressed his lips thin.

“You bled. I can smell it.”

I paused.
That was an odd thing to say.
He seemed to realize I’d misunderstood, and added, “Ghost Port will smell it too.”

Outside, many footsteps suddenly sounded.

The shopkeeper laughed and backed away.

“Miss Ilya, I forgot to tell you.”

“Soul-Ferrying Blood in Ghost Port-it’s rather like ringing a dinner bell.”

Beyond the door, row upon row of faceless people stood in the rain.
They all looked up at once, grinning wide at me.