Lost at Sea, Book 2: Drifters - Cover

Lost at Sea, Book 2: Drifters

Copyright© 2018 by Captain Sterling

Chapter 23

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 23 - The ongoing adventures of Ship's Navigator Will Sterling and his crew of trusty, lusty pirate wenches. Finally gone from Bastard's Bay, the crew of the Kestrel deals with new adventure, old betrayals, and the aftermath of loved ones left behind.

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Drunk/Drugged   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   High Fantasy   Paranormal   Genie   Ghost   Magic   Light Bond   Group Sex   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   Cream Pie   Exhibitionism   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Sex Toys   Tit-Fucking   Big Breasts   Prostitution  

The crescent shaped cliffside was littered with walkways and bridges, and dotted throughout with caves. Platforms made from a hodgepodge of materials were anchored into the walls, and stacked on each other haphazardly. Thick ropes and chains made an elaborate net that reminded Will of rigging designed by a madman. The largest platform hung in the center of it all, ringed with crane arms and hoist tackle. The whole web looked unstable, but figures walked throughout the tangle without a hint of concern.

Jack and Will stood at the far corner of the cliffside above the cove. Where they were the rock face was sheer, but the cliff became more and more sloped as it curved to the other side of the cove. On the far side they could see ramshackle buildings stacked in rows on the shallower incline, like patchwork stairs

“It looks like a giant snagged a bunch of shipwrecks, and then hung the net over a bowl,” Will said, staring in bewilderment at the mess below them.

“I think it’s rather genius,” Jack said. “Everything supports everything else, like a spider’s web.”

“Or a sailing ship,” Will nodded. “Which is great if the whole thing is stable. Not so great if it looks like it might all come down in a stiff breeze.”

In the water below the criss-crossing ropes and platforms, two large ships were docked at an elaborate, multi-level pier. They’d both been stripped of their rigging, sails, trim, crossbeams, and figureheads. Behind them, up against the wall of the cove, another ship was stripped down to a skeleton. It looked like a wicker basket that was starting to come apart as a work crew stripped the planks from it’s hull.

It was midmorning, and the odd little shanty town was bustling with the sounds of work and music.

“What is this place?” Jack asked. “A salvage yard?”

“I ... think it’s a squib dock,” Will said, starting to puzzle it out.

“A what?” Jack made a face at the odd word.

“Squibbing is when you change a ship’s profile. Usually, it just means re-hanging the rigging and sails in a new configuration, for different kinds of sailing and such. It can also mean pulling everything recognizable off a ship and replacing it so it’s unrecognizable,” Will explained.

Jack raised an eyebrow at the ships below. “Why would anyone need to do that? And why do it all the way out here?”

“If the ship is stolen, or if there’s a price on it, or a new owner just decides they want a change,” Will shrugged. “At any Imperial drydock, squibbing has to be approved and recorded by local notaries. This place seems pretty off the books.”

“So these are pirates?” Jack asked, sounding worried.

“Not exactly,” Will said. “I think it’s just a place that’s pirate friendly.”

“So, yes. Pirates. We shipwrecked in a pirate cove.” Jack sighed. She pulled her hat a little lower against the sun. “Wonderful”

“I think it’s pretty lucky that we found this place at all,” Will countered. “It’s exactly what we need.”

Jack started to answer, then looked at him strangely. “Yes ... It is.”

Will eyed her sideways, slowly realizing what she was getting at and hoping he had it wrong. “You sure you want to keep going with that?”

“Come on, Will!” Jack insisted. “This isn’t just simple luck.”

Will gave her a level stare, feeling anger starting to rise inside him. “You’re really doing this.”

“It’s a rather large coincidence that we’d end up shipwrecked on an island with a fully staffed secret shipyard,” Jack said pointedly, holding her hands up like she was apologizing for something she didn’t want to explain.

He forced himself to stay calm, but couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. “You really think this was my doing?”

Jack looked pained... “Not purposefully, but yes. The odds of this are ... next to impossible.”

He stared at her in angry silence.

She looked away. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I only agreed to come out here with you because you specifically promised we wouldn’t talk about this,” Will said through gritted teeth.

“I didn’t mean to!” Jack said, throwing her hands in the air. “You have to admit, this is pretty bloody unlikely.”

Will took a deep breath and tried to disbelieve, but he already knew she was right. That was why he was suddenly so angry. “I know. I knew as soon as we saw the place. I just didn’t want to admit it. Or talk about it.”

“Maybe ... this is an opportunity,” Jack suggested hesitantly.

“For fucking what?” Will snapped. “It’s a little late to stop any of it, don’t you think?”

Jack kept pushing. “To learn more! You have to face this, to really analyze it, if you’re ever going to understand it enough to change the hold it has over you.”

“You don’t get it!” Will snarled. “It already happened! We had to figure it out in retrospect! That’s how it works!”

“I thought you could feel it when it was starting?’ Jack asked, puzzled.

Will let out an angry breath and shook his head. “Sometimes. It’s subtle. It feels like ... slow motion. A sort of disconnect from myself, I always feel like I’m watching things happening to someone else. I don’t remember feeling that today.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed in thought. “It wouldn’t have been today. We’re already here. It would have been while we were in the storm, or even before.”

“That could have been any time after we left Barcola,” Will said, frustrated. “I don’t think picking apart the whole trip is going to help us learn more than we already know.”

“When did we first start to go off course?” Jack asked.

Will thought back, then stood there paralyzed as horror washed over him. “You’re right. I did feel it.” He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to center his reeling ming. “I was looking through the Captain’s spyglass and caught that black ship against the skyline. I was there at exactly the right moment. I felt it. That’s how I knew we were in trouble.”

Jack inhaled sharply as she saw his expression. “Will, don’t...”

Will’s face twisted with anger and self loathing. “It was my fault. All of this.”

Jack shook her head. “Don’t do that to yourself.”

“Fuck.” Will forced himself to breathe.

“I could very well be wrong,” Jack tried to reassure him. “Coincidences do happen.”

Will gave her a sharp look. “Don’t pull that fake reassurance bullshit with me. You’re terrible at it. You had it right the first time. This is exactly the kind of horrible shit that used to happen before I retired. It’s just ... bigger than I ever thought!” Jack tried to reach out for him, but he stepped back and yanked his arm free of her touch. “After I made it back to Bastard’s Bay. I took six months to recover and started feeling normal again. I hadn’t figured out the curse yet. I thought it was just a run of bad luck. After a good night at cards I thought it had to be over, so I hired onto another expedition. It started great. Navigating had never been easier. I could picture where we were, and where we were going, and everything in between like I’d already been there. It felt good. Then the galley caught fire. It spread faster than I’ve ever seen. While we were fighting to save the sails, it caught the powder stores.”

“Oh gods,” Jack whispered.

Will’s eyes bored into her like he was trying to push understanding right into her mind. “It blew the whole quartermaster’s hold out the side. Between the fire and the breach we lost nine crew. The captain managed to beach us on a sandbar, but we were lost. The fire took the sails and rigging, and the back half of the ship. It was only a matter of time before a big enough wave dragged us back into deeper waters and sunk us. We were there on that sandbar for four days, just waiting to die. I thought it was a miracle when an Imperial patrol passed by and spotted us.”

“It’s ... possible,” Jack said, not believing it as she said it.

Will shook his head. “I was the one that smelled the smoke. I felt it ... the disconnection, the world slowing down. It had happened a dozen times after that before I made it home. I’d been telling myself I was just messed up in the head, like soldiers after war, but when I kicked the galley door open and saw the flames, I had this moment where I wondered if I was cursed. After the Magistrate confirmed it, I knew the whole ordeal was my fault for being there. I just ... never thought that being rescued might have been part of it too. What kind of curse dooms someone, and then saves them?”

“The kind that isn’t trying to kill you?” Jack suggested. “It’s just putting you in bad situations.”

“And apparently getting me out of them,” Will said grimly, trying to process what he was starting to understand and struggling with the anger rising inside him. “That’s the way it’s been ever since...”

“Since I left you there,” Jack finished guiltily.

“It’s been the same sequence every time. I would barely survive, end up needing a miracle, and then against all odds I’d get it.” Will slumped against a tree and slid down until he was sitting on the ground. “Over and over.”

“That’s not so different than before, is it?” Jack asked. “Sounds like how I’d describe any number of our adventures.”

“No,” Will said with a bitter shake of his head. “It’s like ... the stakes are higher, and I’m always betting blind. You and I didn’t go into situations unprepared, and we had each other. We did our best to keep everyone else out of whatever madness we were putting ourselves in. We went looking for adventure. Now, it’s like adventure comes looking for me. I’m always caught off guard.”

Jack knelt next to him. “That does sound worse.”

“This is why I’m still mad,” Will said, snapping his head towards her. His blue eyes were rimmed with red. He was keeping himself calm, but he could feel all the anger he’d been bottling up for years welling fiercely. “I’ve been pretty good about keeping things cordial between us. It’s even been fun a few times. In spite of everything I missed having you around, and it works as long as I don’t think about...” He trailed off, unable to find a way to describe the vastness of what his curse encompassed, how he felt about it, and all the consequences that his presence had inflicted on others. He took a deep breath. “I’m just so gods damned mad at you. You explained what you could, and I sort of understand your reasons. I want to move on. I want to put it all behind us and see what we can rebuild, but I just ... can’t. When I stop and think about what my life has become because of the choice you made, I feel...”

“Helpless,” Jack finished for him. He nodded. Jack settled her back against the tree next to him. “I understand.”

“Do you?” Will snapped. He took a deep breath and looked out into the sky, trying to keep his calm. “Every time I figure out something new about all this, it gets harder. Every layer is worse than the last. Everywhere I go, I bring horrible situations to people who aren’t ready for them.” He gestured to the cove below. “I can’t even feel good about getting through the hell I’ve created, because it might just be more cursed luck. How the hell can I ever know what’s me managing to succeed, and what’s been preordained by this thing you did to me?” He glared at her. “I became a hermit. I tried to hide, to never do anything risky, and just like before the exact right people showed up at the right time and lulled me into a false sense of security. I got just enough hope to think I could try again, and now more people are dead and the rest are stranded. Again.”

Jack put her hand on his forearm. He didn’t pull away this time. He just stared at it, trying to figure out how he should feel.

“You can’t blame yourself,” Jack whispered gently.

“I used to,” Will said flatly. “Now I blame you.”

Jack felt like her heart had contracted, but all she could do was nod. “As you should.”

“Still think it was worth it?” Will snarled, not able to stop himself from lashing out.

Jack closed her eyes. “I couldn’t let her die.”

A muscle in Will’s jaw twitched. “If she knew how many people have died because you wanted to save her, what do you think she’d say?”

“She would be horrified,” Jack said, sounding defeated.

“Yeah,” Will said angrily.

“I didn’t know this would happen. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I don’t know what I did wrong,” Jack swallowed.

“You mean besides hanging this curse on me in order to get what you wanted from whatever the hell was in that place?”

Jack shook her head fiercely. “That’s not how it happened!”

“Sure seems like it,” Will growled, looking back out at the horizon and trying to compose himself.

“The curse wasn’t part of the trials. It wasn’t a trade to save Bella. It came after,” Jack said.

Will narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean.”

Jack hung her head, struggling to find words. “You think the curse was part of some trade where I saved Bella by dooming you, but that’s not true.”

“That’s exactly what you told me,” Will interrupted.

Jack shook her head firmly. “No. I did trade you for her. That part is true. That was the last trial to get what I needed to save her. The curse wasn’t part of it though. It was ... a mistake. I still don’t know what I did wrong.”

Will glared at her, holding back more angry words. After staring at her for a moment he took off his hat and leaned back against the tree, trying to force himself to relax. “That’s always what happens when you play around with magic.”

“I thought I was prepared, and was doing things right. It was ... an apology. I thought ... it would make your life better,” Jack sighed.

“Well, you couldn’t have fucked that one up any worse,” Will laughed bitterly. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Jack was spinning the ring on her finger like a worry stone again. He turned to look at it and felt a wave of bitter anger flow through him again. “I can’t believe you wear that damn thing.”

Jack looked at him, then down at her hands where he was looking. She hadn’t realized what she’d been doing. She covered the ring with her hand. “I have to.”

“What?” Will asked dubiously. “Why, did you get married while you were away?”

“No,” Jack shook her head. “It’s ... part of my half of the curse.”

“What does it do?” Will asked.

“Mostly, it gives me what I want,” Jack sighed.

“How horrible,” Will said, rolling his eyes.

“You have no idea,” she said sadly.

“Why don’t you tell me,” Will demanded.

“Your curse is a good example,” she said with a small shrug. “It’s because of something I wanted. I tried to give you a gift. You can see how that worked out.”

Anger slowly drained from him as he looked at her. He closed his eyes tight and pressed a knuckle to his forehead, annoyed at the hollow feeling that opened in his chest after the anger was gone. “Alright, yeah. That’s pretty awful.”

Jack nodded quietly and looked out over the glittering morning sea. They sat there together in silence for a while, each wrestling with their own tangle of guilt and bitterness as the gulls squalled above the cove.

“Can’t you get rid of it?” Will asked after a while.

“What?” Jack asked, snapping out of her reverie.

“The ring,” Will explained. “You said it was part of your curse. Can’t you just throw it away, or sell it or something?”

“In stories about cursed objects, how does that usually play out?” Jack asked.

“Good point,” Will said, sounding tired.

“In five years, I’ve never taken it off.” Jack sounded like she was thinking about something for the first time, and rambling. It was out of character for her, but she kept talking. Words ambled from her mouth without destination. “I could, I think. It wouldn’t kill me, or anything like that. Nothing would change. It’s bound to me. I don’t think I could throw it away if I tried, but I don’t have to wear it. I ... suppose I choose to.”

Will waited, but she didn’t continue. He turned his head to look at her. “You’re not just going to leave off like that, are you?”

She blinked, and glanced at him, as if she was realizing she’d been talking. “It reminds me of you, Will,” she said with a sigh. She rolled her eyes. “It seems so melodramatic to say it out loud. Wearing it reminded me of the last time I saw you, for all the good and bad of it.” She looked down at her hand. “I suppose it’s just a habit now. It didn’t occur to me that seeing it might upset you.”

Will watched as she twisted it on her finger. It was a reminder to him too, just as much as to her, which was why he hated it. It didn’t need to be though. Objects only mattered as much as people wanted them to. “It’s just a ring.”

“If only,” Jack sighed.

Will gave her a puzzled look, and she swallowed, looking like she’d come to a decision. “Quinn,” she said quietly.

A sudden, pleasant breeze brought the sea spray to Will’s face. “What about him?” he asked.

Branches crunched behind them and Will turned, reaching for his rapier. He was shocked to see Quinn push his way through the underbrush and join them on the edge of the cliff.

“Mistress,” Quinn answered in his strangely accented smooth baritone. Will blinked.

Quinn looked ... translucent. Will swore he could see the outlines and shadows of the trees behind through Quinn’s body. His raised, teal tattoos were moving. Their delicate filigree swirled and flowed across his green skin in patterns that reminded Will of waves. As he watched, they slowed, and settled until they were still, and Quinn was solid again.

“I need to ask you a question,” Jack said without looking up at him.

Quinn waited. Will looked between them in confusion, but somehow knew better than to say anything.

“When we first met, did I ask the wrong questions?” Jack asked.

“That is subjective,” Quinn answered simply.

“Do you think I asked the wrong questions?” Jack clarified.

“No,” Quinn said.

“Did I ask for the wrong things?” She continued.

“Again-” Quinn began.

She cut him off. “Do you think I asked for the wrong things?”

Quinn was quiet for a few moments. He looked between Jack and Will, implacably considering. After an agonizing few moments, he slowly nodded. “Yes.”

Jack’s composure cracked. Her eyes closed tightly and she swallowed back her tears. She nodded. “Were there ways I could have gotten what I wanted without things turning out like this?”

“Yes,” Quinn said without hesitation.

“So it is my fault,” Jack whispered. “It didn’t have to be this way.”

A hint of sadness creeped into Quinn’s dark eyes. “No.”

Jack began to quietly cry.

Not knowing what else to do, Will took her hand. She squeezed like he was stopping her from falling. He had no idea what was going on, or how Quinn had even gotten here, but as bizarre as the situation was, he found himself distracted. Something else plucked at the edge of his mind. It was his way. When he couldn’t understand something, he instinctively focused on what he could. When things were too complex to grasp, he tried to focus on the simple. At the very least, it was a lifeline when the world plunged into madness.

“Would other ways have been worse?” Will asked, looking up at Quinn.

The green warrior raised an eyebrow at him. It was clear he was considering the question, but also wasn’t going to answer questions from anyone but Jack. He said nothing. Will gave Jack’s hand a squeeze. She looked at him, blinking back the tears as what he’d asked Quinn started to filter through her grief.

Her eyes went wide. “Yes!” Her whole body trembled with the shock of revelation. “If I had asked for what I wanted differently, would things have turned out ... worse?”

Quinn’s eyes narrowed in thought. “That is impossible to say.” Jack started to open her mouth to clarify again, but Quinn held up a finger to subtly ask for time. He looked at Will, considering, then back to Jack, deciding on how much to say. “Many have attempted similar things. All I am aware of became tragedies.”

Jack’s excitement drained. “I suppose I am no different.”

Quinn gave her a rare, small smile. “That remains to be seen.”

“Sure seems tragic so far,” Jack said bitterly.

Quinn shook his head. “That is not what I see.”

Jack looked up at him. “Tell me what you see that I don’t.”

“In your whole life, you haven’t the time,” Quinn half-smiled.

“About this. Us,” Jack clarified, gesturing between herself and Will, sounding a bit exasperated.

Quinn crossed his legs and sunk down to the sparse grass to sit beside Jack. “I see the world creating this moment for you both. It has arranged itself to accommodate the desires of two people who desperately seek what they already have. They are so caught in their past that they cannot see their present. Together they sit on a beautiful day, at a cliffside overlooking the sea, holding each other’s hands in a scene fit for song, yet somehow still unable to enjoy the short time they’ve been gifted.”

Will looked at Quinn like he’d grown a second head. He shook his head, bemused. “I see what you mean about him being the philosopher.”

Jack’s heartache cracked enough to smile for a moment. “I told you.”

“He does that a lot?” Will asked, masking his wonder with mocking sympathy.

Jack smiled at Quinn. “No. He only does it when I’m being particularly thick.”

“So a lot,” Will teased.

Jack rolled her eyes.

Are we just ... being stupid?” Will asked.

“Yes,” Quinn answered.

Jack and Will looked at him with the same expression of affronted surprise and impressed amusement.

“You are human,” Quinn said with a hint of mockery in his eyes. “It is your nature.”

Jack gave him a small glare. “Alright, smartass. What would you do?”

Quinn gestured to the small bustling port below. “Focus on the task at hand. Let go of as much pain as possible. Appreciate joyful moments when they present themselves.”

“A bit vague,” Jack retorted.

“It’s a point on the horizon,” Will said, considering thoughtfully. “Sometimes that’s all we have to work with.”

Quinn nodded.

“So we need to focus on getting the ship fixed,” Jack said, forcing her mind to focus in a different direction.

Will nodded. “And we can’t do it if we keep dragging each other into this swamp of old problems.”

“The situation isn’t your fault,” Jack said.

“Sounds like it isn’t really yours either,” Will said with a long exhale. He’d been blaming Jack for so long that the words sounded alien to him. The deep pit of anger he had devoted so much energy to keeping a lid on felt like it had drained in a moment. He felt hollow.

Jack swallowed, struggling a moment to hold her composure. “That ... is nice to hear.”

Will’s accusatory glance swept between the other two. “I have a book’s worth of questions, by the way.”

“I hope someday I can answer them,” Jack said with a glance to Quinn.

“Is she right that explaining things puts you at risk?” Will asked Quinn.

“Yes,” Quinn answered. “And herself. And you.”

“What the hell is so bad that just knowing about it is risky?” Will asked. Jack started to speak, but Will raised his hand. “That was rhetorical. I believe you, and I guess that’s good enough.”

“So where does that leave us?” Jack asked.

“I don’t know,” Will shrugged. “Somewhere new.”

“Finally,” Quinn said with an exasperated roll of his eyes.

The both looked at him, shocked. Then Will started laughing. “I like you.”

Jack looked between the two men flanking her with a pained expression, then turned apologetically to Quinn. “This must have been insufferable to watch.”

Quinn’s lips tightened a bit in consideration. “Quite.”

Jack let out a tired laugh. “I’ll try not to subject you to it anymore.”

Quinn looked doubtful.

Will snorted, then looked away when Jack turned a glare towards him.

“Will that be all, mistress?” Quinn asked.

She turned again and leaned in to kiss him. “Yes. Thank you.”

Quinn gave her a small, secret smile and stood without a word.

“Just going to disappear like you came?” Will asked.

Quinn gave him half a smirk. “Differently.”

With two steps he jumped powerfully off the cliff. Will began to surge to his feet, but Jack’s hand against his chest held him back. Will looked at her in confusion, his heart suddenly pumping in his ears. Quinn’s heels arced out of sight as he flattened himself, then dove.

“He’s fine,” Jack said.

Will sat up straight and craned his neck just in time to see the green warrior hit the waves and vanish.

“We’re two hundred feet up,” Will blurted.

“A hundred and fifty. Perhaps a bit over,” Jack corrected, settling back against the tree.

“What about rocks below the surface? Or getting dashed on the walls?” Will demanded.

“He’s fine,” Jack repeated firmly.

Will stared at her. “Why the hell did he do that?”

“He likes diving,” Jack said simply. “And I think he was telling me that he trusts you.”

“What?” Will shook his head, confused. “How?”

“Now you know more about him than you did,” Jack explained. “He showed you something he usually keeps hidden.”

“That he’s a mad cliff diver?” Will’s voice was thick with incredulity. Something dawned on him and he looked back over the cliffs to the water below. “He ... didn’t make a splash.”

“He never does,” Jack shrugged.

“Is this another one of those things you’re just not going to explain?” Will asked.

“Yes,” Jack said, not quite able to hold back a teasing smile.

At a loss, Will relaxed back against the tree, shaking his head to clear it. “I think we should find a different way down the cliff.”

Jack leaned her head on his shoulder. “In a bit.”

Will stared at her a moment longer, then shook his head in bemusement and let himself relax against the tree again.

Comfortable together for the first time in half a decade, they sat and watched the rolling sea glitter under a clear blue sky.


The hike around the cliff took a couple hours, but was pleasant. Jack and Will came out of the treeline to the surprise of twenty or so loggers who were busy carving back the jungle. They were nice enough, and pointed across the curve of the cove to two places where cargo lifts had been built to ferry goods and people up and down the sides. Or they could walk all the way around the curve to the slope where the houses were, and find lodging at the top or bottom of the steps.

They stood at the edge of the first lift, waiting for it to reach the top. The old codger running the apparatus barely moved when they’d approached and only responded in grunts when they’d asked to head down. In lieu of conversation, he’d raised a red flag and waved it. A few moments later they saw the big pulleys start to move.

The whole thing was an oversized block and tackle, operated by someone they couldn’t see. It took about ten minutes, but eventually a flat, raft-like platform reached the top. It hung by a single thick rope that split into four lines that were attached to the corners of the platform. It had nothing in the way of railings. The only thought to safety seemed to be the smaller ropes suspended across the corner lines about seven feet above the raft. Without getting up, the old man reached out with a shepherd’s crook and hauled the platform towards him. It pivoted on a rickety looking crane arm until it was above solid ground, and then he waved a yellow flag. The platform lowered a foot and came to rest in front of them.

Jack and Will exchanged a worried look, deciding if they wanted to get on the contraption.

“You first,” Jack said.

Will shrugged. “Apparently my magic luck will save me, so why not.” He stepped onto the platform and reached up to grab the rope.

“Yes, well it might not save me,” Jack said dubiously. After a moment’s hesitation, she followed.

The old man grunted, and gestured back and forth between them with his flag. Will and Jack exchanged another confused look.

“I’m sorry, what?” Will asked.

The old man rolled his eyes and lifted the red flag. The platform started to rise, tilting dangerously as Jack and Will’s weight caused it to begin swinging. He lifted the yellow flag. The lift stopped rising, The platform was barely a foot off the ground and already tilting wildly. The corner Jack and Will stood on caught the ground and started pivoting.

Jack and Will held tight, looking like they were about to jump free when the pivot slowed and then rocked back the other direction.

“Oh,” Will muttered as a realization dawned on him. “Right. That’s what he was saying.”

“You’re going to have to translate grunts and flag waving,” Jack said, annoyed.

“The load has to be balanced,” Will explained.

The old man grunted an affirmation and waved the yellow flag again. The lift lowered back down to the ground again.

Will walked to the center of the platform. “Over here. We need to keep to the center and balance our weight. I’m heavier so you’ll need to adjust out a bit once it’s up.” Jack looked like she’d rather walk around to the other side of the ridge line, but followed him to the middle of the lift. The old man gave them a nod and waved his flag again.

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