Engine Trouble

Barnes fixed Captain Marston Prestwick with exactly the kind of glower that had made him miss her as a First Mate. “I thought I’d told you that I would never set foot on one of those damned steam-ships?” she growled.

“You did say that, yes,” admitted Prestwick.

“No engines, I said. I hate them.” Barnes spat on the quay. “Nasty, smelly, clanking things. Give me honest sea air any day. At least it’s natural.”

“No engines. I promise. I’d never ask you to break an oath, Barnes. It’s me.”

Barnes’ eyes narrowed. “Yeah? Well, this doesn’t look like a sail-ship to me, captain.” Barnes struck the side of the Fleetwind with more savagery than Prestwick really thought was necessary to make her point. The clang that echoed forth from the ship certainly wasn’t wooden. It could only be born of iron.

“It isn’t,” replied Prestwick. “But it doesn’t have an engine either.”

Barnes scoffed. “You expect me to believe that? How’s it supposed to move, then? You going to ask the fish to shove it?”

“I can show you, but you’ll need to board first.”

“And I told you I’m not setting foot on anything with an engine.”

“Which the Fleetwind does not have.” Prestwick sighed. “Look, Barnes, we’ve been through a lot. Have I ever double-crossed you? Cut you short? Withheld your share? No? Then why not trust me on this? Just this once?”

Barnes looked at him steadily. “Fine,” she eventually snapped. “But if this is a trick, you’re going overboard.”

“It’s a deal,” grinned Prestwick. He led Barnes up the gangplank, onto the deck and towards the engine room. Barnes grumbled all the way. Prestwick ignored it, and spoke only when they reached the engine-room door. He opened it and gestured for her to walk through.

“After you, Barnes.”

Barnes had some choice words ready for when she entered the engine room. She didn’t manage to say them. Instead, all that escaped her throat was a strangled: “Sweet buggering fuck!”

There was no engine in the engine room. Instead, there was a large, glass tank filled with water. Within it was a figure swimming in circles. It looked almost human, until you noticed the webs joining its fingers and toes and its large, disc-like eyes.

Behind Barnes, Prestwick closed the door and tutted.

“I’ll ask you to watch your language on my ship, Barnes. That rule hasn’t changed.”

“That’s a fey!”

“No. Xyr a fey, and xyr name is Queniel.”

The fey popped their head over the edge of the tank and waved. “Pleasure to meet you. Marston’s told me so much about you.”

Barnes blinked. “He’s what?” She turned back to Prestwick. “Captain, what the blasted hells is going on here?”

Prestwick shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “Quen’s the engine. Xe powers the boat.” He pointed. “There’s a little trapdoor in the iron – you know how fey hate iron – big enough for xem to manipulate the currents and drag the Fleetwind wherever we want to go.” Now in full flow, he beamed. “It’s a stroke of genius, if I do say so myself.”

“No. I mean – how did you persuade a sea-spirit to cooperate with anything a human wants?”

“Ah, well. Quen and I… we have a… special relationship,” replied Prestwick. He walked up to the tank and pressed his hand against the glass. Queniel pressed xyr own hand against the same spot. The two shared a glance which could only mean one thing. Barnes sighed.

“Oh. I see how it is.”

Prestwick frowned and pulled his hand away from the tank. He made an effort to square up to his former First Mate.

“You can’t talk me out of this, Barnes. My heart is set, and so is xyrs.”

Barnes chuckled and shook her head. “I wasn’t going to try. I know you, captain. You’re as stubborn as I am.”

Prestwick visibly relaxed, and his frown melted away into a grin.

“Then you’ll rejoin my crew?”

Barnes thought about this. Prestwick getting tangled up with sea-spirits was exactly the kind of nonsense she’d expect from him. That didn’t stop him being a good captain and, more importantly, one she’d missed. When he’d finally given up the old sailing ways, Barnes had jumped ship – literally – but she couldn’t deny that he wasn’t using an engine. Her private conditions for considering joining up with him again were fulfilled. Damn him.

“I suppose I can’t really say no now, can I?”

Queniel raised xyr head from the tank again. “Not really, no.” Xe stuck out a translucent tongue then splashed back under the surface.

Barnes smiled and clapped her hands together. “Right. When do we cast off?”

Author’s Note

This story was part of my October 2021 Writing Challenge. Here, @AlteredInstinct requested a revisiting of my characters from “For Love of the Sea” (published last year in Tales from the Pirate’s Cove from Inklings Press). So here you have it – an origin story, of sorts.

Do you enjoy my writing? There’s even more available (with illustrations!) in my monthly zine, Endless Otherwheres. Alternatively, you can buy me a coffee.