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After Jolene disembarked, Linebeck popped out of the crate with a big stretch.
“Yeesh,” he crowed, “it's not like I was timing you or anything, kid, but I feel like it took longer to send that wannabe pirate packing than it did last time! You getting sick or something?“
Link yawned. “I don't think it took that long.”
“Listen to that yawn. Hey, twinkles, can't you keep your hero from falling asleep on the job?”
“I'm not falling asleep!”
“There, see, you're yawning again! You yawned six and a half times during that fight. Not very heroic, bucko.”
Ciela sprang off of Link's shoulder and into the air. “You were counting? How did you even have time to notice stuff like that?”
“Huh? How did I have– I was in a crate. It was boring.”
“Boring?” Ciela flew right into Linebeck's face. He squinted away from her glow. “Were we not defending the ship entertainingly enough for you today?”
Link wiggled his sword for emphasis, visibly peeved.
“Aah, touchy, touchy.” Linebeck shook his head, stroking his chin. “I'd expect this tone from the little one, but for both of you to be ganging up on me like this? Get back above deck, you two. Some fresh air oughta fix you right up.”
Link threw his arms into the air. “Do I not even get a tip today?”
Linebeck laughed. “Yessir, you must be coming down with something.” He rummaged around in his pocket for a rupee. “Let's find this treasure and dock for the night, shall we?”
“Okay,” Link agreed wearily. “I guess.”
Before making his way to the stairs, Link cast a tired glance towards Tetra, still as petrified as she had been when they first rescued her from the Ghost Ship. He gave her stone hand a weak high-five and shuffled off towards the deck.
Linebeck watched him go with some level of bafflement, handful of rupees forgotten. “Seriously, though,” he hissed, “what's eating the lil' guy tonight?”
If Ciela had visible arms, Linebeck was sure they would be on her hips. “Oh, I don't know,” she said. “Couldn't have anything to do with the hunk of rock in the room with us that he was expecting to be his best friend, could it?”
Linebeck shook his head. “Aah. You know what'll turn his mood around?”
“Does it have anything to do with finding treasure?” Ciela's tone was flat.
“It has everything to do with finding treasure! Now, go follow the little fella! We’re burning daylight!”
~
It was a chilly evening on the Northwestern Sea. It was more than enough to keep Ciela awake.
She clung close to Link, hovering near his heart. “Just a little bit farther until we find the spot, right?”
“Right,” Link confirmed, flicking his eyes between the map in his hand and the vast sea before them. With a sigh and a hint of a smile, he rolled it back up and stuck it under his arm. “Do you think it's gonna be another ship part?” he asked, adjusting the ship's wheel ever so slightly.
“Ooh, I hope not. I want something more exciting this time.” Ciela fluttered a little higher. “Some kind of strange treasure we haven't even seen yet. I want something that'll really knock my socks off!”
Link cupped a hand under Ciela's floating body. “You wear socks?”
“Oh, you know I didn't mean it for real! How about Mr. Man-of-the-Sea's socks, then? Or, yuck, now that I'm thinking about it, I'd rather he kept those things on.” Ciela flapped her wings harder. She glowed at the way it made Link grin.
“You think it's too much to hope for some super-special metal down there?” Link asked, shifting his weight as the ship's momentum slowed and swayed.
Ciela floated an inch above his hands. “I guess we won't know for sure until we check, huh?” she said, after a beat.
Link nodded, bare traces of his smile still there. Without another word, he let Ciela lead him to the Salvage Arm.
Ciela liked watching the Salvage Arm go down. She was never sure how Link did it– managing to thread the clunky metal claw all the way to the bottom of the sea, maneuvering the rig this way and that around obstacles she could barely sense, let alone see. But Link always seemed to manage.
He managed most of the time, anyway. An underwater explosion rocked the ship; Link winced with his whole body even before Linebeck shouted up from the depths of the engine room. “Hey!” he called. “What do you think you're doing, kid?”
Link rolled his eyes, then screwed them shut. “You're wrecking the Salvage Arm,” he mumbled, taking on a nasally tone. He wrenched the arm far to the left.
Ciela giggled. “He complains like it's his money that fixes the ship.”
“I know, right?” Link's face bloomed with relief as he felt the claw catch on something solid. He reversed the chain, allowing it to chug its way back into the ship as he guided the arm slowly upwards.
“One of these times, his big mouth is gonna be what makes you bump something, not the other way around.”
“What do you think he'd do if I handed him the bill?”
“Oh, something like this. Blargh!” Ciela spread her wings wide and drifted in a loop-de-loop to the deck floor. Link laughed, loud, with his whole belly.
“Almost done, kid? You got any treasure for us yet?” Ciela fluttered back into the air before Linebeck could eye her for too long. “Oh, I see the bug's finally keeled over. A bit disappointing, but not surprising, with the temperatures we've been getting. Brr!” Linebeck gave an exaggerated shiver. “Well, I guess it'll be just you and me now, buddy. We’ll do what we can.”
“Hey!” Ciela zoomed right into Linebeck’s face. “You know I’d never leave Link to finish his quest alone with you! That’d be a fate worse than death.”
Linebeck made a show of swatting the air around her without making any contact at all.
Link ignored them both, hurriedly winching the arm up and pulling it around to drop its treasure on the deck before them. By the time Ciela had regained her bearings, Link was already unlatching the chest.
Linebeck, for his part, had snapped to attention. He gripped Link by the shoulders with a little shake, peering over into the salt-worn chest as he did. “There you go, kid, what a find! Say, can you imagine that we ever thought we would make anything but a great team? Now, whaddya waiting for, are you gonna pull it out, or should I?”
“It's...” There was a frown in Link's voice. “What is this?”
Ciela flew down as Link reached into the chest. “Oh, be careful, Link!” She positioned her body between his hand and the sharp edge of the chests's contents, her glow making the jagged surface glint in the low light. “There's broken glass. Don't get cut!”
“Aah, the kid's been in tougher scrapes than that, hasn't he? I– wait, do you mean to tell me it's broken?”
“It's not so bad,” Link said, quickly. “Here, I'll be careful. Ciela, help me lift it?”
Ciela flew into the waterlogged depths of the chest and found a flat, unbroken surface to press her body against. “I'm ready!” The tarnished metal was cold to the touch. It occurred to Ciela that she was currently lower than something that had been at the very bottom of the ocean.
With an intake of breath and a small grunt, Link found the object's handle and lifted, placing one hand under its base to steady it as he did. When Ciela flew out from under it, the treasure swung on its hinges, to and fro.
Linebeck gave a low whistle. “An oil-burning lantern,” he mused softly. “And just look at the make of it.”
“So it is a ship part,” Link said, definitive. He had been staring at the lantern, an odd look in his eye like he didn’t know what to make of it. But now his eyes were trained on Linebeck, leaning forwards a little, even, like he was ready to stop standing still.
“Likely,” Linebeck said, stroking his chin. “But not one that would suit our vessel, even if repaired.” He flicked the side of the lantern with his finger, and another small crack formed in the surface of the glass. He winced. Ignoring Link's now-pointed stare, he continued, “Some collector might be willing to buy it off of us for a pretty penny. I say we make it someone else's health hazard.”
“Do you think it's worth something? It was in a treasure chest, after all. With a map!”
Link tilted his head.
“Which would imply that somebody put it there on purpose, yes...” Linebeck's eyes were closed in thought.
“And look at these designs, too.” Ciela traced a line of whorls on the unbroken glass with her wing. “So decorative. I've never seen anything like it.”
“You haven't seen much of anything, fairy.” In came Linebeck's fingers, ready to deliver a second undeserved flick. “But I suppose you have a good eye. The craftsmanship should rack up the price a skosh.”
“That's not what I'm saying!” Ciela fluttered her wings. “What if this is something special? Something to do with the Ocean King?” She watched Link's posture change. “Maybe Grandpa would have something to say about it. Or even Astrid?”
If Linebeck was swayed, his face showed none of it.
“Oh, come on, wouldn't an educated appraisal or whatever jack up the price, too?”
Linebeck's face bloomed into a broad grin that Ciela watched him try to suppress. “So you don't think my appraisal is worth enough?”
Ciela's loud groan conveyed more than a roll of the eyes would have, with eyes as small as hers.
“Aah, fine, I give. Who knows, maybe the old man'll want to buy it.”
Link tilted the broken lantern this way and that in his hands.
“But!” Linebeck held up a stern finger. “If we cross paths with even a single sucker– ehh, collector who'd be willing to cough up enough rupees for this thing before we get there, we are taking the offer. Deal?”
Link nodded. “Set sails for Mercay?”
“For Mercay,” Ciela agreed, and then yawned. “And sleep.”
~
As it turned out, the suckers found them before sleep.
“Why are we slowing down? Don’t tell me it’s that madwoman again.”
“You don’t hear cannonballs, do you?”
The traveling members of the Ho-Ho tribe had been, as of yet, little help in Link’s quest to save his friend and the Ocean King’s realm and of little relevance to Linebeck’s own treasure-hunting sensibilities. Ciela sort of liked their funny collars. The crew avoided the treasure-dealers more often than not, in the few incidences when they drew close enough to recognize the other ship as such.
Tonight, Link steered the ship towards the Ho-Ho’s vessel and prepared to board. He caught Linebeck’s eye and gave him a thumbs up.
Linebeck took in the sight before him, then gave a curt nod. “Worth a try,” he said.
“You’re welcome,” Ciela said, and then yawned. “You never thank Link.”
Ignoring her, Linebeck thrust the broken lantern into Link’s hands and pushed him forwards onto the gangplank. “Go get ‘em, kid!” he said. “Settle for nothing less than one thousand big ones!”
Link whipped his head around. Ciela drifted past him, floating slowly forwards. “You really think we’ll get that much for it?”
Linebeck thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “Good instincts,” he said. “This job may require a professional’s touch. Watch and learn, you two.”
Even still, Linebeck let Link be first to run down to the tribe’s chief to begin the conversation, trailing along behind and casting imperious glances at the other members of the tribe as he held the lantern aloft.
Ciela continued to float aimlessly.
“Ho ho! What a strange sight!” The chief of the Ho Ho Tribe tucked his spyglass away and donned his tall cap. “Good thing we fair travelers have yet to go to sleep. We, ah, were almost there, but what a good thing that we were all still awake, yes indeed! Have you found some interesting treasures for us, my small, green acquaintance?”
As Link began gesturing to the lantern in Linebeck’s hands and Linebeck began the haggling– “Eight hundred rupees,” he tried, “...if you think we’re off our rockers! Eleven hundred? Sure. I mean, for something this fine, maybe we could–” Ciela bumped into the side of a Ho Ho’s head.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, rolling off the top of his head and fluttering her wings a little harder.
Out of the corner of his eye, Link watched as Ciela brushed over noses and knocked over hats and knocked around the whole cargo hold, his expression falling a little more with each bump. But it wasn’t until she pushed over a crate of something quite fragile that Linebeck took notice as well.
“Hey, glitter-face!” he hissed. “Mind not spoiling the deal? What do you think you’re—” And then he blinked. “That doesn’t look good.”
While the Ho Hos moaned about whatever precious thingamabobs from Wayaway they had just lost, Link snatched the lantern from Linebeck’s hands and charged up to where Ciela was fluttering.
She was moving in a lazy circle, one with a tilted axis, drifting up to bump-bump-bump against the wooden side of the cargo hold like a buoy on water. Then she would spiral down an inch or three before flying up and at the wall again. If smacking into the wooden wall hurt her in any way, she showed no sign.
“Ciela,” Link whispered. “Ciela?”
The soft glow emanating from Ciela blinked at him in response. Linebeck saw Link’s spine go ramrod straight.
“Would you excuse me a moment?” He smiled obsequiously at the Ho Ho before sliding over to the members of his crew.
Ciela’s glow was still pulsing in and out, painting the cargo hold in an erratic pattern of pale golden light.
“Now, what’s going on over here?” Linebeck shook his head, hands on his hips. “Take it easy, there, bug, now– c’mon, knock that off. Here.”
With careful hands, more careful than Link had ever seen, he reached over to create a cushion between Ciela’s small body and the wall. Slowly, like cupping water, he pulled her away from the wall and towards his chest.
“What’s gotten into you,” he muttered. The beating of her wings felt incredibly strange against his palms– like eyelashes blinking. “Link, kid, you know anything about this?”
Link shook his head vigorously, running a hand through his hair and looking like he was trying really hard not to panic.
Ciela was mumbling something, too faint to hear. Linebeck frowned so deeply he knew it would be leaving lines on his face.
“Excuse me,” came a timid voice from somewhere outside of their huddle, “I couldn’t help but notice through my telescope that one of your companions seem to be having some difficulties. Should we move any, ah, potential treasure appraisals to the morning?”
Somewhat distractedly– Ciela was still trying to drift towards the same wall she had been bumping up against before, and Linebeck had to keep switching hands to catch her again and pull her back towards him and Link– Linebeck called over his shoulder, “Sure, what did I say, thirteen hundred? Or– my apologies, for such esteemed travelers as you, I could bring you down to just seven-fifty. That’s a deal you won’t be getting anywhere else.”
And suddenly, the hold brightened.
“Linebeck,” Ciela said, irritably and all at once like herself, “quit trying to scam these guys and pick a price already, would you?”
Two members of the Ho-Ho tribe exchanged glances through their telescopes. Link laughed loudly, almost dropping the lantern. He reached a hand out towards Ciela.
Linebeck laughed despite himself, his brow unfurrowing. “There you are, kid. Finally wake up?”
Ciela faltered, just a bit, but fluttered over to Link’s hand cheerily. “Did I really fall asleep or something? Ugh!” She flew a shaky circle around Link’s head. “I feel a little woozy, maybe, but I think I’m okay now. I didn’t worry you, did I, Link?”
Link watched her quietly for a moment. And then– “Linebeck, I want to go.”
Linebeck crossed his arms. “Now hold on just a minute.”
Link stared at Linebeck quietly.
Muttering under his breath, Linebeck grabbed the broken lantern by its handle and, with a grand fluff of his coat, stalked off towards the gangplank. Link followed, eyes locked onto Ciela as she flew out ahead of him.
“Hrm. Bye, then.”
~
But when they returned to their ship, Ciela had already started fading once more.
“I think–” she tried, tucking herself into Link’s pocket. “I think maybe I just need some sleep. G’night, guys. Sorry we couldn’t sell the lantern.” And before Link could think of anything to say, her little body was still against his.
“Speaking of the lantern…” Linebeck shook his head. “You might want to take a look at this.”
The jagged edges of the whorled glass glinted with a strange blue-tinted sheen. Inside of the broken lantern, held within the confines of what it used to be, was a little puff of glowing, shimmering dust, a pale golden color that sent waves of light dancing across Linebeck’s face. Quietly, too quietly to make out for certain, a tiny voice could be heard coming from the glow, mumbling to itself.
“So I’m thinking it might be time to check in with the old man,” Linebeck admitted.
Link’s face was absolutely heartbreaking. Wordlessly, he ripped the lantern from Linebeck’s hands and lifted it over his head.
“Easy, there, easy!” Linebeck grabbed his arms and held them in place. “Don’t go throwing this overboard, now, I don’t think we want that.”
Struggling against Linebeck, now, Link grated out, “But it’s got her!”
“Looks like it.”
“I’m not– gonna let it get any more of her!”
Link’s elbow caught Linebeck’s jaw. Grumbling to himself and straining now against Link’s strength, Linebeck gave up trying to hold him back or wrest the lantern from his hands. He squatted down, wrapped his arms around Link, and lifted him right off the deck.
In his shock, Link yelled, dropping the lantern behind them with a crash. Then he yelled again.
Linebeck gave him a few good shakes to quiet him down. “Knucklehead,” he wheezed, “if she’s in there, why are you trying to throw her overboard?”
In some maneuver designed to relieve him of the burden of holding Link’s weight aloft, Linebeck tucked him under his arm, letting Link’s toes drag against the deck. But Link had let his legs go limp, and Linebeck ended up sinking to the ground with him.
They knelt there, next to the fallen lantern. A few more fragments of glass were now missing from its frame. Still, it glowed.
The light danced across Link’s face. “I just want it gone. I don’t know what to do with it,” he said, exhausted.
“Hold onto it,” Linebeck said, leaning back against the guardrail. “Just like we’re holding onto your friend down below, right?”
Link flinched. He stared into the lantern’s pulsing light.
“Listen, kid, we’re not on any kind of timer here. You haven’t been having those nightmares about her calling out to you since we got her body back, have you?”
“No,” Link said, miserably, like he was admitting something awful. “But now it’s happening to– and I just can’t– I don’t want–”
“No it’s not, kid. She’s still here.” Linebeck poked Link in his side, then nudged the lantern with his boot. “...and yes, maybe a little bit in there. Point is, we’re doing just fine. Sparkles can wait, and your friend can wait, and the whole wide ocean can wait. It’ll all still be here for you when you’re done.”
And, following Linebeck’s broad gesture of the arm, Link tore his gaze from the lantern to the glittering sea before them. It held his attention for just long enough that Linebeck could convince himself that he had actually done something with that little speech.
After a beat, Linebeck clapped him on the back. “Now you go take a nap. I can handle the ship for a few hours. We’ll sail back to the dockyard, and the kid’s old man can fix this for us, and you can shell out the rupees to repair the Salvage Arm damages you caused earlier, right?”
“You can pay for it this time.” Link mumbled. “Use that tip money that you never gave me.”
Linebeck barked out a laugh. “Now, why does that sound like something the fairy would say?”
~
When Link had gone to sleep, he had checked to make sure Ciela was safely tucked away in his pocket, and he lay very, very still, careful not to roll onto her or wake her from her slumber. When he woke, however, he was horrified to find that his pocket was now entirely empty. He shot out of his cot like a cannonball and charged up the steps; what he saw when he emerged from below deck was almost scarier.
“Oh! Hello, Link!” Beedle waved excitedly from aboard his ship, which was not positioned in relation to their ship in a way that would allow for easy boarding.
The prow of their ship was, in fact, pointed towards Beedle’s in such a way that suggested that its helmsman was either not very good at steering or, alternately, had either not intended to board at all. Blearily, Link turned to stare at said helmsman where he was practically hiding behind the wheel.
Linebeck rubbed his neck, pointedly avoiding Link’s gaze. “Sorry, kid, did that wake you? Everything’s, ah, under control. Probably.”
“You crashed into Beedle?” Link rubbed his eyes with tightly-balled fists. “Our good friend Beedle? How could you? He’s gonna take away our VIP points!”
“Oh, I’d never,” came a mild voice.
“Listen, don’t you go doubting my credentials now, you little parrot. It was you who fell asleep on the job, wasn’t it?”
“Because you told me–”
“Something’s wrong with the steering,” Linebeck interrupted, lowering his voice. “I don’t know if there’s something stuck in the rudder, or if– an odd current here or there, nothing I haven’t seen before, but–” With a frustrated puff of air, Linebeck cast his gaze towards the few stars he could see through the cloud cover that had gathered. “We’re way off-course. I’m trying to get us re-routed.”
“Where’s the lantern?” Link asked, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach.
“It’s–” Linebeck gestured vaguely behind him, and then, suddenly, his face lit up. “Beedle!” he called, stalking past Link and towards the nose of the ship. “My fine merchant! My fellow purveyor of treasure! Can you hear me from over there, my good man?”
“Certainly,” he said, amicably. “Sound travels well across water.”
“So it does. Say, just between us, between men of the trade– if you came across something like this– hold it up for him, kid, go pick it up– how much would you try and sell it for? An honest price.”
Link ran to where the broken lantern lay on the deck. As he drew nearer, he could hear Ciela’s voice trickling from its core, still speaking in words too low or too unfamiliar to understand. Wind whipped across the surface of the ocean in a harsh gust, ripping the words from the lantern and casting them out to the sea. And still it glowed– brighter than it had done an hour ago, pulsing its erratic signal. The cloud of fairy dust within shimmered and shivered in the night air.
Gritting his teeth, Link held the lantern higher. It cast its light in an uneven circle around him– the darkest spot on the ship, it occurred to him, would have been right in front of him.
“Oh!” Beedle said. “Oh.” He scratched his nose, and then his hair. “Well, I would not sell that at all. I would not buy that in the first place.”
“No?” Link could hear the eyebrow raise in Linebeck’s voice.
Beedle shook his head. “Oh, no,” he said. “You see, that’s the lure of the ghost of the deep.”
~
“The what ?” Linebeck called. “Of the ghost of the what?”
An old legend, Beedle said, raising his voice over the sound of the crashing waves. He’d recognize that relic anywhere, he figured, glowing exactly like it did in the stories! He was curious about the seal that would allegedly appear on the bottom, actually, did it actually have–
“Focus, helmet head. You called it a lure?”
“Oh, yes! For the fish’s prey. Sometimes called a cage– some translations even likened it to a harpoon, which I think–”
“A fish?” The sparkles inside of the lantern swirled. Link’s hair blew into his eyes, and his free hand darted back and forth between pushing it back and grazing the hilt of his sword.
“You got it!” Beedle began eyeing the sails of his ship. “And frankly, I’ve stayed in business this long because I know when to let the big ones get away, ehehe. So no, I don’t think I would sell that treasure. Sorry, did that answer your question?”
Linebeck caught Link’s eye. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled.
“And once the prey makes first contact with the sunken lure, and its Force begins to drain away, it kiiinda leads the great fish back to the victim’s inert body. You know, to really soak up the leftovers. And if I may be so frank–” And here it was quite hard to make out Beedle’s words, because the wind had really begun to pick up, and the light drizzle that had begun while they were talking was gaining some force now, and also because Beedle was returning to the helm of his ship and no longer facing Link or Linebeck. “IthinkI’mneededelsewhereitwaswonderfuldoingbusinesswithyoubyebye!”
“Yeesh!” Linebeck said, hands on his hips, watching Beedle’s vessel pull away on the rocking waves. “Now that’s a coward if I’ve ever seen one.” His eyes darted to Link, as though waiting for a rebuttal, but Link had already dashed to the ship’s wheel.
“Gonna try to sail out of the storm,” he shouted, pinning the brightly-glowing lantern between his legs as he wrestled with the wheel. “Outrun it.”
“Kid, didn’t you hear your merchant buddy?” Linebeck slicked his now rain-soaked hair back. “I think the storm’s chasing us, isn’t it? All because that little fairy just couldn’t keep her grubby– ”
“Don’t you even think about finishing that sentence, you overgrown Cucco!” came a little voice from the lantern. “Honestly, how could he even joke about this all being my fault?”
Linebeck startled so much that he almost slipped on the water-slick deck. “Why, you– you whiny little krill! Say that to my face, why don’t you!”
“What?” The voice rattled around Link’s head. “Link… Link, can you hear me?”
“Tet–” Link shook his head vigorously. “Ciela?”
“Yes! Oh, thank goodness. I was getting so worried! It’s so dark, Link, and I’m so cold.”
Wrestling one-handedly with the wheel now, Link squeezed the lantern handle tight and lifted it to his chest. “Where are you?” he said, adrenaline flooding his veins.
“Can you see me? I think I’m down low.”
With trepidation all the way down to his boots, Linebeck peered over the railing and into the churning sea below. “What am I looking for, kid?”
There wasn’t much for Linebeck to see at first– no tip of a fin, no thrashing tail, no deep, dark, shadow. Some things are so large that you’re not fully aware that you’re inside of them.
“Watch out,” Ciela said, her voice sounding odd.
And when the vast shadow darkened, when it displaced the water above it so swiftly that it raised their ship at least five feet above sea level before ramming into the ship’s hull from below, neither Linebeck nor Link had time to do anything about it.
To his credit, Linebeck had managed to avoid landing entirely on his backside, and instead found himself on his hands and knees in an odd crouching position. The lantern rolled to him and bumped against his boot, soaked clean through yet still burning with Ciela’s light.
Scrambling, Link reached for the lever that launched a cannonball into the depths. His aim was true– though it would have been hard for him to miss such a large target, even in the storm.
“Ooh, I think I felt that!” Ciela called from Linebeck’s hands. “I think that worked! But we’re going deeper again…”
Link spun the wheel around to circle back on the creature, but it had already begun to descend. “Don’t waste another, kid!” Linebeck crawled to the railing of the ship and squinted down into the waves– was that a golden glow he could see, all the way down in the blue depths? Getting smaller and fainter by the second. “We’re not gonna make contact unless it’s practically at the surface again, and by that time, we’re already cooked!” He felt his voice grow hoarse. “Don’t make this ship take any more hits like that one if you want to make it out of this with air still in your lungs!”
“Then what are we supposed to do?” Ciela asked, her terrified voice already growing fainter. On impulse, stupid impulse, Linebeck stuck his hand into the lantern’s center, no regard for the jagged edges scraping at his wrist. He dipped his fingers into the golden glow; it fluttered against his palm, like eyelashes.
Link’s eyes flashed. “Hold on!” he shouted, then bolted away from the wheel.
The ship veered to the side, wheel spinning uncontrollably. Spitting out curses that would shame his mother had she ears to hear them, Linebeck launched himself towards it, one arm still wrapped around the lantern, to steady it with the other.
With a firm grip, Link engaged the controls of the Salvage Arm. “Ciela! Guide me to you, okay?” He plunged the claw into the depths at full throttle.
“Okay! I’ll– I’ll try!” The pulsing glow of the lantern shifted patterns; it burned steadily, with a different rhythm, something almost like a heartbeat. Linebeck could sense it emanating outwards from the lantern, from Link, from the ocean and up through the soles of his boots. The storm raged on. He could have passed out. He clung to the wheel.
The ship was upright, but spinning out of control. Even still, Linebeck could almost feel the triumph in Link’s voice as the Salvage Arm’s claw found purchase somewhere on the great ghost fish’s body– on that little glowing bundle, Linebeck was willing to bet. The shock waves rocked through the vessel. The claw rocketed back up, the chain whirring as loudly as the crashing waves.
“Keep it steady!” Link called. He wrestled with the controls to get the arm to descend once more.
“Keep it steady, he says.” Linebeck’s teeth chattered. “Can you believe it? Like I called the storm down?”
“Eyes on the wheel,” Ciela reprimanded, her voice like music through water.
After the second hit, the great fish seemed to understand what was happening to it; its crooning moan of a roar cut all the way to the marrow of Linebeck’s bones. The rhythm of the shifting waves changed, suddenly and powerfully; another crash rocked the ship. Linebeck hissed through his teeth, catching sight of a sickly green tail flicking up above the surface of the waves. Just the tip.
“Is it gonna do that again?” he ground out.
“It’s gonna do that again!” Ciela shrieked. “Move, now!”
A massive wave crashed onto the ship’s deck, choking out Linebeck’s breath for five moments too long. Somehow, Link was there, at his side, grasping the lever that lifted their vessel out of the water. He pulled it, hard, and their ship achieved flight.
“Perfect dodge!” Ciela cheered. “It’s going down again! Get it, get it!”
Lightning flashed, and again, Link wove the Salvage Arm down, down, down into the ocean depths, grasping mechanically at the monster below.
“Almost…” Linebeck could hear Ciela talking quietly to herself. “So cl… oh!”
The explosion from the Salvage Arm’s strike almost sent Link off of his feet; he knocked into Linebeck’s back.
“Nice work, kid,” Linebeck said, because if he said much more, he may have bitten his tongue off.
“Arm’s gonna break,” Link warned. “Soon.” Linebeck counted the hits in his head. Just across the course of the evening… yes, the Salvage Arm would soon be wrecked beyond use.
“Almost done?” he wheezed, trying for encouragement.
“Almost,” Ciela answered, her voice small and tinny. “All… almost.”
“You don’t sound sure, Sparkles.”
“I’m coming up.”
Grasping at a pulley, Linebeck killed the engines. He let Link lean against him as the leviathan slowly rose from the depths.
It was an ugly, awful thing. The smell was enough to assure Linebeck that he was awake, certainly, but the sight alone could have come from a nightmare. Lightning illuminated its form. Its eyes were dead, rheumy, and knitted over with translucent flesh– and veins and boils covered the surface of that flesh, all across its body, its massive green scales patchy and rotting.
It was facing the ship. Slowly, it opened its jaw– half of the ocean seemed to flood its mouth, and with the way they were drifting, the ship seemed to be coming along as well. Its teeth were massive, numerous, and many-layered.
Hanging over its cavernous maw, like bait on a fishing line, was a bulging sac of glowing flesh. It was a sweet, pale gold.
Someone screamed. It might have been Link. Even still, he reached across Linebeck’s chest, across the last vestiges of Ciela still floating around in the lure-lantern, and pulled the lever that launched a cannonball down the ghost fish’s throat.
And then another, just for good measure. For a brief, awful moment, Linebeck wasn’t sure it had any effect. But the fish’s jaw hung open, wider, now, absolutely slack, and when it began to tilt to one side, Link let out a whoop so loud it cut through the crack of thunder that rattled Linebeck’s teeth. The glowing sac exploded in a cloud of glittering dust as the great monster crashed into the water, sending the ship rocking backwards with the force of the wave.
Slowly, it sank under the waves, which seemed calmer with every inch of the fish it submerged. Linebeck watched it go. He let the lantern slip out of his grip and roll off the deck; it, too, sank.
He was so engrossed that he almost missed Ciela’s grand return. Just as the clouds above began to part, and the first ray of morning sun cut through to touch the ocean, the little fairy materialized above Link’s head, fully-formed, fluttering and glowing as warmly as the sunbeams.
Link sank to the ground; Linebeck followed, propping his elbow against Link’s soggy head for support. Ciela, fresh as a daisy, came down to rest on the back of Linebeck’s hand.
The sea rocked them quietly.
"What do you say we head back, huh?” Linebeck tried, the first to break the silence. “So you can fix the mess you made of the Salvage Arm.”
"Sounds good. We decided that you’re paying.”
"Should have known that bit of mutiny was a joint decision,” Linebeck mumbled, stroking his chin. "Can't be helped, I suppose."