The Dark Moon drifted aimlessly across the White Sea. The deck was filled with the lively scent of food, with several grills set up on it. Glowing charcoal burned beneath them, while skewers of octopus meat covered the racks.
Carlos had claimed a grill all to himself, along with the ship's chef, Kelly. The two of them grilled octopus together, shaking handful after handful of chili powder over the meat until it was bright red and looked painfully spicy.
But there was no helping it. Carlos had a heavy palate and did not care much for sweet flavors. What he loved most was numbing, spicy food. As the captain, he was abusing his authority, and Kelly would not be getting away until she had grilled enough meat for him.
The rich aroma of grilled meat mixed with the scents of all kinds of seasonings and spread in every direction. Crates of chilled drinks and alcohol were piled on the deck. They were going to party like there was no tomorrow.
Only after grilling several hundred skewers of intensely spicy octopus in one go did Kelly finally go help the others under their insistent demands. Grilling meat was not difficult, but grilling it well was another matter entirely.
Only a master chef like Kelly could perfectly control the heat and accurately measure the seasonings. Everyone else had their flaws to some degree. The clumsier ones were flustered enough to burn the meat black.
Carlos grabbed a large handful of bright red, fragrant grilled octopus and casually carried three bottles of ice-cold beer to the wolf head at the bow. Drinking, snacking, and keeping watch—he did all three at once.
The octopus had been grilled to perfection. It had not lost all its moisture, remaining tender yet chewy. Combined with the right