D. Jackson: A Plunder of Souls

The eagle called again, grasping its pilfered meal in its talons.

Ethan walked on to the Dowsing Rod, trying to shake off his fears. For now, he knew, the captain was gone. He might be back before long. But for today-for the time being-he could rest easy.

Upon reaching the tavern, he found it empty, save for three laborers who stood at the bar, drinking ale and eating oysters. Kelf winked a greeting. Kannice came out from behind the bar and walked with him to a back table.

Resting on the table was a new tricorn hat.

“For me?” he asked.

“Unless you think it would look better on me.”

“I’m sure it would. How did you know that I’d lost the old one?”

“You’ve been wearing the same damned hat just about every day since we met. Don’t you think I would notice when you stopped wearing it?”

He tried it on, though he knew that Kannice would have found one that fit him perfectly. She had.

“How does it look?”

Kannice tilted her head to the side, regarding him with a critical eye. “Clean,” she said at last. “Mercifully clean.”

“I’m sure,” he said, laughing. “Thank you. I feel badly that I don’t have anything for you.”

She smiled. “There are remedies for that.”

“You do remember that I haven’t yet earned anything for this most recent job.”

“Aye, but you will. You said that Mister Rowan intends to pay you. And I also remember that before helping Reverend Caner you worked for Andrew Ellis.”

“That I did. Very well, my lady,” he said, offering her his arm. “What shall it be? A bauble? A new kerchief?”

She shook her head. “A sweet.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “A sweet?”

“Aye. I’ve had my fill of chowder and oysters and ale. I want some sort of confection, and I know just the place to get it.”

“Very well. Lead on.”

She pulled him toward the door. They passed Kelf, who shook his head and gave a basso chuckle, and then they were on the street, basking in the warmth and the sunlight, confident that for at least one more day, the skies over Boston would remain clear.

Still, as they strolled arm in arm toward Faneuil Hall, Ethan couldn’t help but glance toward the harbor, his eyes scanning the sunlit waters for one small, well-tended merchant ship.