"Wolfe…"
They were sitting in candlelight, drinking tea and Mariana was trying hard to avoid making eye contact.
"I won't do that anymore," she said. "I almost got myself and all of us into deep trouble."
The man smiled.
"I thought that getting into trouble was the point of our little manhunt," he said.
It was easy to like Wolfe, although he had not been this kind to her at first; everything about him suggested the slow, steady warming of an oven or a similar process that had more beneficial results than meeting a man who was not as steadfast and dutiful.
"Well, yes, but I don't think I have fulfilled my duties as a captain." Mariana sighed.
"Do elaborate, Cap'n."
It was painful to hear him call her that when she had been so close to the ultimate failure.
She explained everything, ripping the bandaid off within a couple of long and action-packed sentences.
He didn't chastise her for playing with occult forces. He barely even frowned. When Wolfe spoke, she couldn't concentrate on him, though, all her thoughts swam in circles around Daniel like sharks in the water.
Wolfe said something vaguely reassuring and told her to leave the box alone. Or something like that. She wasn't too sure about the exact words.
"We will continue the same way we did before, but without any assistance from anything that does not come with a physical body," she finally said. "I don't trust myself with that box. Take it…take it from me, and keep me from talking to spirits. Guard me; I don't trust myself anymore."
Wolfe did as she asked him to do.
The following days were a bit more of a routine than the exciting battles and calamities. This was a blessed thing. The skies, hanging heavily above them with the clouds churning out bouts of rain every now and then, cleared up every night, allowing Captain Mariana to help the navigator. She didn't know why she had chosen him, for the man was a bit inexperienced despite being in his thirties, which was pretty ancient for a privateer or anyone in a similar profession. He underlined his uncertainty about his craft in every other sentence; he said that he was a mere hobbyist with some fancy tools. This annoyed Mariana. On the other hand, though, she was able to practice her own navigation skills now. As the crew remained obedient, she really had nothing better to do at night.
She had dreams - bad ones.
They always disguised their horrible content in a scene of romance at first. She was approaching a tall, dark man, but then some force told her to stay where she was and let him come to her. She never saw his face at this point of the dream. She would smile coyly, attempting to use her talents of passive seduction. The man would turn his back towards her. The sulking ended up in her running towards him and revealing his identity.
It was Daniel, but with red, demonic eyes that were as small as little holes poked with a needle, and his mouth was always full of sharp, pointy teeth.
At this moment, she always woke up covered in a layer of sweat. Then she would arise, not willing to succumb to slumber again in case of another horrible encounter with fake Daniel.
Mariana considered never sleeping again. She also thought about getting in touch with a decent witch doctor. The second option seemed like a better idea until they sighted Daniel's vessel in the distance.
Mariana knew him, from the maneuvers he pulled even while in deep waters, that arrogant way he furled his sails with a windward jerk that allowed him to get more knots to his maximum speed - oh gods, that craftiness, that mastery of sailing…
She watched, ever enchanted by his tricks. He even did that little starboard side dip he was known for, but no one outside the realm of maritime manipulation of the elements could have possibly known what he was up to.
For her, it seemed blatantly obvious that he had sighted a merchant and was going in for the kill.
There were no common trade routes around the place he was heading towards, but that hardly concerned Captain Mariana. She knew that he didn't just waste his men and their strength on things that were dangerous for those high up in the rigging.
No, Daniel was a careful man, even quite humane when it came to his pirates.
She remembered how he had talked with his crew. She knew that he, in turn, remembered which ones had wives and families. He always went through several extra steps when it came to the men who were all alone in this world.
He made sure that these men knew they had people who cared, who would die for them. The art of captaining a ship was not just about the ship itself. A good captain was a loving leader. Maybe it wasn't fluffy or mushy, but it was still caring, good social leadership that could not be delegated to the first mate entirely.
Mariana knew she had a long way to go in that regard.
One would have thought of her as a people person, but even now, as her men came to her, asking for orders, her first instinct was to retreat from their eyes and the bright, blue ocean that reflected way too much of the scarce sunlight. Her head was pounding. Her longing towards the pirate king pierced her even as she tried to act like a proper, callous heroine.
She had her own life, she had to remember that. She could not let him slip away.
But perhaps she could buy him and herself some time?
Dars had given her a rather generous deadline.
With the help of someone who could communicate with the dead, Mariana could still have a chance to repair things and destroy the ghost.
If she failed, well, that was to be assessed later.