Jay Eight-Legs: Leg the Fourth

Jay considered the situation as he deftly patched up Gib. The Warlock’s blade was made for slicing, so the stab wound was not truly terrible. Gib was also a big, tough ogor and it would take more to kill him than most. On the other hand, the ethersea keeping Jay from suffocating in the air would not last forever, and it seemed there were other forces with their own agendas on the island.

Humans, dark elves, lizards, ogors, and an ochtar very far from home.

But whatever he had to do, he couldn’t do it without Gib, and Gib wasn’t much help in this state. He poured the ogor’s drink over the wound with one tentacle — Jay couldn’t tell whether Gib’s pained look was from the sting or the loss of so valuable a liquid. With another two tentacles he unwrapped the roll of rags and tried to stem the blood. Using yet another, he prepared a pad to stick on top.

“Arr, yer many arms do all, but ye say nothing.”

That’s what you think.

Jay admired his handiwork but a realisation was dawning and he could no longer deny it.

The thick jungle air has surely infected it. Gib needs herbs quickly if it will ever heal.

He tried to communicate his plan with a series of colour flashes. Gib looked back blankly.

“Do what ye gotta do, Eight-Legs. Leave me pistol, mind, if that there Warlock comes back I’ll be damned if ‘e can dodge two shots.”

Jay flashed blue and floated off into the trees.

The human camp couldn’t be far now, he reasoned, and they certainly had to have some kind of medicine. This first assumption was proven just a few minutes later, as Jay heard the hubbub of a large group. He advanced more slowly, wrapping himself around trees as we went, keeping two eyes out. The camp could just about be made out through the thick foliage. Without the noise, he’d have just happened across it.

Slithering through the undergrowth, he peeked out. The camp had been hastily constructed in a clear space at the base of the volcano, which glowered above the scene like a disapproving overseer. The colourful, patchwork tents covered most of the open ground right up to the sheer flank of the volcano. It was up there, on the slope, that Jay could glimpse a platform with some unidentifiable items piled atop it. Sticks? Whatever it was, that was certainly the ritual. More pressingly, he also noted that the sentries were alert.

Perhaps news about their dead comrades has made it back?

Jay hated snakes. Still, there was no choice. He slithered along the ground into the camp, keeping as low a profile as possible. There was very little open ground before he reached the tents. He snuck into a small, triangular one made out of sailcloth.

May as well start somewhere.

It was full of fish. Barrels and barrels of fish. Jay inadvertently flashed green. Without giving it a moment’s thought, he dipped a tentacle into one of the barrels and smuggled it up into his beak. He paralysed it out of habit then injected the acid that would liquify it. Now lying on the ground, tentacles all bunched up together, he sucked up the fish flesh with relish.

Not quite a crab, but —

A noise outside. He shot up to the top of the tent and suctioned himself across the roof, flattening himself. A head poked in.

“Ah, Shyish, someone has been at the stock again. I’ll have their guts for it.”

The fish carcass. Looking down, the skin and bones were still there, a neat mess in the entrance way.

The head looked left and right but, thank the sea, not up, then popped out again.

Phew. I will have to move fast.

Jay left it a moment, checked the coast, and slipped away from the feast with great reluctance. He investigated one tent after another, but found nothing of use. His skin glowed a more and more frustrated yellow. Abandoning another small storage tent, he came across a large one made of sewn-together rags. Inside, it boasted several bunks and hammocks.

Perhaps they will have something in their effects?

Leafing through pirate boxes and knap-sacks was a smelly experience — it reeked of land. Still, his efforts were rewarded. There was a leather pouch full of herbs that Jay recognised from their preparations for the disastrous invasion of the island. He curled a tentacle around it and wobbled back over to the entrance.

There was someone standing in it.

“What the — ”

Jay shot between the legs, giving the human a slash on the calf as he went. It cried in pain.

Imagine having hamstrings.

Floating on his side, he fanned all his tentacles out vertically, then bunched them horizontally. Jay flew through the air outside, direct toward the trees, with many open-mouthed humans looking on. He corkscrewed to get a bit more distance, but he wasn’t fast enough.

“Someone catch that octopus!”

One tried to leap on him. He darted up and tried to push forwards. Another fired a shot. Yet another barred his way. Jay heaved himself up a bit further and dived diagonally down through the air, over the head of his would-be captor.

The trees!

Jay wrapped a tentacle around the trunk. A shot embedded itself just above. He heaved himself into the jungle. They were right after him.

If only we were really in the sea… maybe I can get to Gib before they catch me and he can ‘blow them to bits’.

It was leading his friend into danger when he was supposed to be helping, but he had to put the success of his mission above all else.