Eight ArmsREADING ROOM

Devilfish Annotated Read-Along · Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

October 26, 2026

Declan stood at the shore end of the long pier, watching the Argonauta’s crew tie up and disembark. She was floating high in the water, so she couldn’t be bringing much cargo in for trading. Her mainsail was set, but tattered, and barely hanging on at the clews. Rigging lines hung loosely against the shrouds. The red paint on her hull was faded and peeling, and her sides were pockmarked with an irregular pattern of shallow, splintered holes.

She could have been battered in a storm, but that wouldn’t explain the holes, or at least not all the holes he could see. They looked like something had eaten away at the wood. Declan was used to the constant maintenance a wooden ship needed to guard against teredo worms burrowing into the hull, but these marks were above the water line. He couldn’t think of anything that would damage a ship like this, especially at sea.

The temperature had dropped after the last few unseasonably warm days, and the brisk wind that had blown the Argonauta in this morning was more typical for early April. Elliot was probably lingering over eggs and sausage in Nance’s breakfast room, hot coffee at hand. Declan had bolted a cup of coffee but abandoned his breakfast when he caught sight of the Argonauta tying up at the end of the pier. Nance had tactfully stayed at the house, too, so Declan could speak privately to his father.

Declan made it through the hand-shaking and back-slapping from the crew as they jostled around him. His father’s first mate and bosun looked half-starved, their shore clothes hanging off their gangling frames. The crew members Declan didn’t recognize didn’t stop to introduce themselves, making a beeline for the bunkhouse and the hot meal Nance had waiting for them.

His father was always the last to disembark the ship when he pulled into port. When he finally appeared at the top of the gangway, Declan hardly recognized him. He seemed smaller, his greatcoat flapping around his knees and its turned-up collar obscuring most of his face. The sleeves bunched around his wrists where his hands were stuffed into his pockets.

Declan waited as he made his slow way up the pier. His head was down, and he seemed distracted, apparently not even recognizing Declan as he made to pass him.

“Father.” Declan said, a little sharply.

His father stopped short, blinked a few times at him, and then something in his face cleared. He smiled at Declan, that rare lopsided smile barely visible behind his thick mustache and bushy beard, stretched his arms wide, and enfolded Declan in a crushing bear hug.

His father felt thinner under the bulky coat, but his arms still had the wiry strength of a man half his age. Declan caught the combination of cigar smoke and sun-warmed wool he always associated with his father, but it was overlaid with old sweat, unwashed linen, and a strange coppery note Declan couldn’t identify.

The Captain drew back enough to cup a hand under Declan’s jaw and gaze into his face. His eyes crinkled under bushy eyebrows, and the lines in his weathered cheeks deepened. “It’s good to see you, boy,” he said gruffly. He patted Declan’s cheek, then let go, and brushed past him.

“Father,” Declan said again, but the Captain shrugged him off. Declan grabbed his arm. “Wait a minute, damn it.”

The Captain swung around. “What?” he demanded. Declan stared at him.

“What do you mean, what? I haven’t heard from you in months. You missed our usual rendezvous and left no word other than that map and cryptic note. I’ve been sailing up and down the goddamn west coast looking for you for months. And you sail into port here today with your ship all beat to hell, and all you have to say to me is ‘good to see you, boy?’”

Not to mention everything else that had happened since the last time Declan had seen his father.

“What do you want from me, Declan?”

“An explanation, for one thing. Where the fuck have you been?”

His father sighed impatiently. “I finally found the blasted thing. She slipped away in a storm, and I need a few repairs before I can get back out there. But this time, I’ve got a bead on where she’s heading and I’m going to catch up to her.” He patted Declan absently on the hand clutching his arm. “Just need to pick something up Nance is keeping safe for me.”

Declan matched strides with his father up the lawn to the front door of the big house.

“You figured out the pattern of the supermoons, too, then?” Declan asked. “Charlie Lauder told me what he told you in New Westminster.”

“You been tracking me, son?” He flashed Declan that crooked smile again. “Should have known you’d catch up to me sooner or later.”

Declan smiled back. “Well, it cost me a pretty penny when I had to tell Ah Ling his next opium shipment from you would be delayed. Had to scrounge up double the shit Wong Chin produces to cover the deal. So yeah, I’ve been trying to catch up with you. Ling might deal with someone else next time if we can’t get him his usual.”

The Captain grunted noncommittally, and Declan sighed internally. For all the years his father had been looking for the ship that took Marie, he’d never let the search interfere with business. Which meant he must be close to finding the damn thing.

“So, you know where it’s going next? That’s the part we haven’t figured out yet.”

“We?” The Captain shot him a sideways look. They were trudging up the lawn, approaching the house, and his father would find out in a few minutes anyway. Declan took a deep breath.

“Elliot and I. I picked him up in Port Townsend last month.”

The Captain stopped walking and swung around to face Declan. “Why the fuck would you do that? After everything I’ve done to keep that boy safe, you brought him here? On the trail of this thing?” His eyes flashed at Declan. “Damn it, Declan, I thought I could depend upon you to protect him!”

Declan clenched his fists to keep from striking his father. “I have kept him safe! For fuck’s sake, Father, you were the one who sent me back to him! And he was fine, when I first saw him. He was about to get married, you know. To the Reverend Brady’s daughter.”

The Captain crossed his arms over his chest, his brows furrowed in thought but his eyes still cold. “I remember her. Nice girl. Bit odd, as I recall.”

Declan shrugged, remembering Celeste’s bright expression the day she introduced him to the octopus she’d named Eleanor and her strange behavior the night they’d played Charades with her in the parlor. Odd or not, she was important to Elliot, not to mention part of whatever was happening to him now.

He glared at his father and continued. “The night before the wedding, she disappeared. And when Elliot found out that Pat Lennan saw the same goddamn schooner off Union Wharf, do you think he was willing to just sit at home and wait for her to come back? Of course I tried to convince him to do that. But no, he insisted on tearing after it, chasing it down wherever the trail led him, just like you did when Marie disappeared. How exactly would you have suggested I stop him?”

He took a deep breath to calm down, conscious that their shouting was likely to draw the attention of everyone inside the house. He lowered his voice a little but couldn’t keep the bitterness out of it. “For all that you’re not blood kin, the two of you are exactly alike sometimes.” Always chasing after something—or someone—else, with little regard for their own safety, or for what it was like to travel along on an obsessive fool’s errand.

The Captain sank into one of the wicker chairs on the front porch, elbows on his knees, head cradled in his hands. “I didn’t know,” he whispered, almost to himself.

Declan scrubbed both hands over his face and through his hair. He could use another cup of coffee. Or a stiff drink. Dealing with his father was enough to drive even a temperance activist to the bottle. “How could you not have known? You’ve been chasing it for fifteen damn years and you knew it had come to Port Townsend once before.”

“Twice,” the Captain muttered, his voice muffled by his hands.

“What?”

He lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot, though no tears shone on his cheeks. “The schooner has been to Port Townsend at least twice before that I know of. Sally told me after Marie disappeared. The first time was in 1864. In August.”

Declan had already figured out there was a supermoon that month. Eight and a half months before Elliot was born. How much did the Captain know about why the schooner collected all these women? Did he know about the devilfish hybrids? Could he have any idea that Elliot was now one of them? How long could Declan keep that information from him? And what the fuck would he do when he found out?

“When it took Marie and you left us, you told me to take care of Elliot. And even though I was only twelve years old, I did. I was there for him when no one else was, and still you never told me it could come back.”

Until he took Declan away from Elliot for long enough that Elliot turned to someone else to care for him. Though that was as much Declan’s fault as the Captain’s. If Declan had gone back to Elliot sooner, he might never have agreed to marry Celeste. But then the ship might have come for Elliot himself instead of Celeste, so there was little point in bemoaning the things he couldn’t change now.

The front door opened behind them, and Elliot’s broad figure filled the doorway. Declan looked over the Captain’s shoulder and shook his head slightly to signify they’d be inside in a few minutes. Elliot nodded back and disappeared into the house interior.

The Captain rubbed a thumb across his forehead, just above his eyebrow, then looked up at Declan. His knuckles were gnarled from his years at sea, and he suddenly looked older than Declan had ever seen him.

“I’m sorry, son. I should have told you more. But I’m so close to it now. And when I find the damned thing, I’ll force them to tell me where they took Marie. Elliot’s girl is probably there too. We can go after them together, the three of us.” He gave Declan a tired smile. “Maybe finally find you a nice girl too, to settle down with. Then things can finally get back to normal.”

Declan sighed. He doubted that things would ever get back to normal, at least not the normal his father meant. He couldn’t even fathom how to explain Elliot’s shifting, much less exactly how Elliot shifted back. Or that he didn’t even care what Elliot shifted into, now that he finally had him back in his bed. After what had happened between them these last two days, Declan had foolishly believed they could concentrate on each other for a little while. Next month was another supermoon, the last one for this year. Declan had thought he could be selfish for once in his goddamn life and have Elliot to himself, at least until the full moon passed. Then they could talk about what to do about Celeste. And maybe by then, Elliot would decide to stay with him and give her up for good.

But if his father was right—if he knew where the schooner was going next—Elliot would surely want to track it down. And if it could lead them to wherever it had taken Celeste, he might well stay with her, since she was now more like him than Declan. How could Declan stand in the way of Elliot learning more about his new form from someone who shared it?

Declan dropped a hand on his father’s knobby shoulder as he crossed to the front door. “Come inside, Father. We’ll figure it out.” Whether they told the Captain about Elliot’s shifting or kept that to themselves, it was long past time for the Captain to share all the information he’d gathered with them.

His father nodded, then pushed himself up from the chair and followed Declan into the house.

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