Their minds met. It was a brief encounter, long enough to exchange ideas so clear and articulate that they were almost words.
The Captain showed Thomas that they would perish, unless they worked together.
Thomas showed that he did not care, if he, Thomas, was not to be the master. Thomas made it clear that he was tired of others dictating his fate to him.
The Captain reluctantly agreed to cede control of the Crimson Ship to the half-daelkyr, if only briefly, but Thomas would have to keep the half-orc from firing the great bow.
It was an instant. Technically it wasn’t even that, as there was no way to record the time. But it was all that was necessary for an agreement of necessity.
Their minds joined. The fiend submitted his control to Thomas, but led, like a tiny tugboat pulling a great barge.
The Crimson Ship seized, then rippled, and then became actual.
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