The captain assigns me to kitchen duty. I hope she realises I can’t cook to save my life. She’s also put me in possibly the tiniest crevice one could call a “room” below deck, though I’m not complaining because the most of the rooms we passed on our way down with approximately six to eight hammocks smelled like ass and smoke. This one just smells like dust (and is just big enough for a hammock to stretch across diagonally). There’s a tiny window at the top of the “far” wall, and a singular ray of sunlight pushes its way in.
The first thing I do is take the hammock down from its hooks, go into the corridor, and shake it out. I cough as I’m hit with a huge cloud of dust. When I’m satisfied, I bring it back in and hang it up again.
I sit on the floor and undo my boots. Then, I take off my uniform slowly; this is the last time I’ll be doing so. Or, at least until I can get off this ship, I think. Then I remember that I’ve been banished and would probably be killed on sight.
I fold everything to give back to Archie, but slide the leather pouch off of my belt and leave it in the folds of the hammock. I leave on my protective vest for obvious reasons - armor is a good thing to have.
I pull my new clothes on, tying the sash around my waist. The weapons I had I left in my quarters back in Ravolox. Only the dagger strapped to my boot remains. I unbuckle it and instead tie it to the sash. I feel strangely light and vulnerable.
I put my boots back on and turn to leave, but the flash of my pins on the breast of the coat catches my eye. I sit back down and take them off, slipping them into the leather pouch.
Archie is stitching together what looks like one leg of a pair of pants on a squeaky sewing machine when I return. He barely looks up and waves a hand towards a basket on the floor that was definitely not there the first time I was here. I take his gesture to mean I should put my clothes in it, so I do. Then I go back into the galley. The cook is rummaging around in a lower cupboard, so I just stand in the gap between the two counters in the middle of the room and wait.
As he emerges with an armful of potatoes, he catches sight of me and grins.
“Capt’n told me you’d be helpin’ out!” He says happily. He dumps the potatoes into the tiny sink next to the stove and holds out a hand. “Name’s James August Fisher.” As he says this I can hear Archie’s wheezy voice imitating him. “But you can call me Jim.”
“Elyas,” I say, shaking his hand.
“Well, Elyas, I hope you can cook!” He turns back to the sink and starts peeling the potatoes at an astonishing rate. “You can start chopping onions; they’re in the cupboard over there.”
I head over, passing by the stove. The whole room smells delicious, and I catch sight of a simmering pot of soup. There’s a second pot of water on the other burner. “Two pots?” I say questioningly.
“Capt’n’s informed me there’s to be a party this eve’in’,” Jim says, “In your honour.” I’m startled by this information, but that didn’t really answer my question.
“So why a double batch then?” I ask, opening the cupboard.
“More people’ll be eatin’. See, usually the one’s with a night shift sleep through dinner and eat in the mornin’,” He explains, “But capt’n’s parties get everyone up.”
“Hm,” I close the cupboard and open the one next to it. A basket of onions sits on the top shelf. I grab a few. “How many?”
“Two should do it. Make sure they’re peeled” He says. He’s produced another cutting board for me and is chopping the potatoes now at an equally astonishing speed as he peeled them. I put one back and bring two to the counter. He kicks a metal bin over to me and I peel the dry skin off of the onions into it.
“Knives.” Jim says, jerking his head behind him. I see a block and take one. “Not that one.” He didn’t even turn around, but I put it back. “Top left.” I take the top left one and he nods.
I start cutting. By the time I’ve managed to cut half of one sufficiently, he’s tossing all of the potatoes into the now-boiling water and starting on the next ingredient.
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An hour later, he has me take the first pot out onto the deck. It’s starting to get dark, and tiny lights have been strung up on the ropes and sails. There’s already a fair number of people out and talking and drinking. I see several crew members off to the side with instruments.
I set the pot down on a barrel and go back in. Next, he sends me out with a crate of bowls. Then spoons.
The trumpeter starts playing, and then the rest join in. At the sound of the music, more people come up onto the deck to join in.
