... from much further back in the story. I was deleting some old posts, and came across it.
For the next few days, they had beautiful weather and a following sea. A strong south wind, sent by Yuudai from the top of the Minami Mountain, blew them further and further from the cold and ice of the southern wastes.
Sometimes they sailed past icebergs, their smoothly chiseled sides a pure white above the slate blue waters, smaller chunks of white ice drifting around them. The sight of these icebergs never failed to fascinate Gilly; she would stay by the railing until they had passed out of sight.
One night, Pidguyok told Gilly about the colossal squid that roamed the very deepest layers of the ocean, their pale pink flesh and trailing arms far longer than the length of the Unabara Maru itself. On each tentacle were hundreds of sharply barbed, rotating hooks that dug into the flesh of their prey. If their prey struggled, they were only embedded more deeply and no matter what, they were drawn closer and closer to the curved black beak of the squid, to be slowly chewed alive, piece by jagged piece.
Tenshio had been absorbed in reading at the time, the lamp above his head gently swaying back and forth; Kaito kept a very well stocked library in his office in the smaller salon. The two daemon tended to stay back there, enjoying each other’s company in a mostly unspoken sympathy of character. Though their experiences in life were considerably different, they were close in age, shared a deep appreciation of solitude, and a similar philosophy of life, in which endurance, loyalty and stoicism were largely featured.
This left the main salon to the child and the Krigmerk and, from time to time, a passing crew member.
The daitoku walked down the short hall just in time to hear Pidguyok explaining how those long-tentacled creatures swam in the dark waters just under the ship itself, and how they could come rolling up to the surface, revealing their flat, black eyes, eyes the size of a pot lid.
“Pidguyok!” cried Tenshio, in his low, resonant voice. “What exactly do you think you are doing?”
“Telling a story,” explained Pidguyok, in surprise.
Gilly’s face had gone white under her sunburned cheeks and nose. Her head swiveled toward Tenshio, her eyes large and liquid in the lamp light. She was sitting cross legged on the salon floor, before the potbellied stove that was casting a glow of warmth over the girl and the husky that lay beside her. In her arms was clutched Plum Blossom, only slightly damp and smelling of salt water.
“About the squid,” she whispered.
“So I see. That was, perhaps, not the best use of your judgement,” Tenshio said to Pidguyok, his voice dry. He looked down at Gilly. “It is time for you to prepare for bed."
Gilly glanced over her shoulder, at the dark interior of the galley, where the door to the head was located.
“By myself?” she asked, uncertainly. She thought of the hole that led down, straight into the depths of the ocean, and shivered.
Tenshio glared at Pidguyok.
“I will accompany the small one,” said the husky, getting heavily to his feet. “I will stand guard outside the door.”
“I don’t want to use the toilet,” Gilly said, not budging from her spot. “What if something comes up from the ocean?” She saw a tentacle, pale and pink, writhing up from the inside of the toilet bowl, reaching around blindly, the hooks gleaming in the dim light. The imagined sight inspired a rare obstinacy.
“I won’t!” she declared with fervor.
Tenshio crossed his arms and bore down upon the husky with great focus in his golden eyes.
“I…” stuttered the husky. “I… will go and look!” he finished, regaining his usual confidence. “I will send forth the all clear! ….before His Holiness burns me up from the inside with the fire of his righteous wrath,” he finished, half under his breath, as he paced into the galley, his tail swinging half-heartedly. “No one ever appreciates the artistry of my stories.”
“But what if it comes after he leaves?” Gilly asked Tenshio in a worried voice. “Anyway, I don’t need to go. I’m fine.”
“You must clean your teeth, wash your face and brush your hair,” said Tenshio, unyielding.
“I’ll do that in the galley,” cried Gilly, leaping up and running after the husky. “Is anything in there?” she asked Pidguyok.
“Nothing at all. And anyway, the smell from the head drives all squid far, far away. They can’t stand the smell,” Pidguyok explained, earnestly. “I just didn’t tell you that before, because it’s just such a boring detail. But, I thought it might come in useful now.” He lifted his pale blue eyes to the tall form of the daitoku that still waited, immovable, in the salon.
“Are you sure?” Gilly asked, doubtfully.
"What? You doubt me? I, who have lived all my life on or near the sea? Raised by whales, practically? Taught the language of the waves through the mouths of shells? I tell you what, I’m sure.”
