Pezock waits until everyone is inside the crab before fitting the chitin “door” back in its place. Seeing Hú Lí admiring the crab’s rigging, he enthusiastically shows her how it works. “Just look through the peephole there,” he directs, then works the levers, raising the claws, opening them, and snapping them shut. “It took forever to get the opening and shutting exactly right,” he says proudly. “I can wiggle the eyes, too, but you can’t see that unless you’re outside. Oh, but where are my manners? I never have guests. What to do, Pearl?” He taps his fingers on the fancy hilt of his rapier. “Some tea would be just the thing,” he says, and proceeds to bustle around, removing a hot coal from a small pot, blowing up a little fire, and boiling some water. He seems either to have forgotten about Takahaan’s question or not to have heard it in the first place.
When the tea is ready, Pezock serves it in mismatched bowls and cups. It is surprisingly good, with a woody sweetness and a sort of gingery bite. “I retrieved this stuff from a few of the wrecks around here,” he says absently. “The Crow’s Tooth was our ship. Seven of us survived, including Eraka, our captain. She--she was a dear friend. They all were. We found that camp over there”--he waves his hand in the direction of the camp to the southeast--“with a couple of shelters already built, which saved us some effort. But it was a mistake to use it. They use those campsites like traps. Like--like larders. They came in the middle of the night and cut down three or four of us before we knew what was happening. Savages, like wild slavering beasts.... Eraka was fighting them, but she was soon struck down as well. She told the rest of us to run. ‘Pezock, save yourself!’”--the kenku here speaks in a strong, womanly voice--“’We can’t fight them here. Take my sword--I can’t bear that it should fall into the hands of my killers.’” Pezock’s voice quavers, and tears come to his eyes. He rests his hand tenderly on his sword-hilt. “I ran, and Oswick with me. We didn’t hear them pursuing immediately--we heard them laughing. We looked back, just briefly, and one of them had--had--” (Pezock steadies his voice with considerable difficulty) “--had cut out her--her liver. He waited until we were looking back, and--and ate it....”
Pezock rubs his face, taking a moment to recover. “Oswick went berserk. I don’t know what happened to him. He couldn’t bear it--he charged straight back at them, screaming like an animal. They killed him. I kept running. I didn’t look back again.”