“Let me get this straight, you want to pay for a single barrel with… a diamond?” the shopkeeper asked, gaping at him in disbelief.

Cas blinked. “Yeah. Is that a problem? If it’s not enough, I can give you another one.”

He reached into his bag, scrambling to yank a second diamond from one of his many necklaces. “Honestly, I still don’t really get the human conversion rate.”

“No, no, no, one is more than enough,” the shopkeeper said, frantically waving his hands until Cas stopped. “I just don’t want to take advantage of you.” His gaze flickered awkwardly down to the large diamond resting on the counter between them. “Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to exchange it for coins and then come back later?”

Cas shook his head. “I don’t have the time. Besides, going through all those dumb steps seems kinda boring and complicated, and I don’t really do boring or complicated. I assume a diamond for a barrel is at least moderately close to a fair trade, right?”

The Shopkeeper simply stared at him. “Uuuuh…”

Cas grinned. “Just keep the change! I really don’t mind. Treat yourself to a nice parfait or something with it.”

***

Twilight had fallen by the time Cas reached the docks, the sky above staining the waves in indigo. Numerous ships bobbed in the bouncing waves, their forms silhouetted in the moonlight. But even amidst an armada, there could be no mistaking the Scarlet Mamba.

The boat was massive, constructed from mahogany wood with three glorious masts reaching into the night sky. A figurehead extended from its bow—a serpent made from smooth, scarlet-stained oak. The serpent's head lunged forward into the darkness, its jaws wide as if in mid-attack.

Well, Cas thought, that was certainly a statement piece.

Several dock workers moved supplies, traveling back and forth across a wooden plank leading onto the ship. The Scarlet Mamba’s cargo lay packed together at one end of the dock.

This was going to be tricky, Cas thought, but hey, within one day he had turned into a human, been nearly arrested for public indecency, and survived annoying the living daylights out of the Devil/Demon Captain, Ripper of the Sea, Butcher Among the Waves. He could handle this.

As the dock workers made their way back up the plank to The Scarlet Mamba, carrying several wooden crates between them, Cas put his plan into motion. He glanced about, making sure the patrollers were looking elsewhere before hoisting the barrel onto his shoulder and making a mad dash across the dock.

As Cas ran, the workers set down Valentine’s supplies on the deck of The Scarlet Mamba. Cas raced towards the end of the dock, closing the distance between himself and the waiting cargo. Just as Cas reached the base of the plank, the dock workers began to turn around.

Frantically, Cas set down the barrel and flung himself inside, pulling the lid down as he scrambled to fit. The confined space was dark, the musty scent of whatever cargo had been stored in the barrel before him lingering within.

Cas had asked the shopkeeper to carve a small hole in the wood, and the man had thankfully agreed. He had said it was the least he could do for the price Cas had paid. The mer-prince stuck his eye up against the hole now, peaking out as he watched one of the ship loaders turn, his gaze landing on the mysterious new barrel.

The man’s eyes narrowed and Cas’ heart skipped a beat as the man approached. “Oy,” he called, wrinkling his nose. “Johnny, I think something might be wrong with this barrel.”

Shit, shit, shit, shit. Panic clawed at Cas’ gut. Oooooooh this was bad. This was very, very, bad.

Through his peephole, Cas could only make out the ship loader’s feet as the second man came to stand beside his compatriot.

“What’s the problem?” Ship Loader Number Two asked.

Number One sighed. “Just smell it.”

They both took in a deep inhale. A second later, gagging sounds followed.

“Pee-yew! That thing stinks!” Ship Loader Two said.

“I think whatever’s in there might’ve gone rotten,” Ship Loader One replied. “It smells like trash.”

Cas made a mental note that he needed to replace the burlap sack and bathe ASAP.

“Rotten or not, it’s really none of our business,” Ship Loader Two answered with a sigh. “It’s their supplies. We’re just moving it. Captain Valentine would slit both our throats if we opened his cargo.”

With that, Ship Loader Two grabbed hold of the barrel and hoisted it up over one burly shoulder. Inside, Cas’ world spun, the motion sending him smashing into one side, then another as they carried him up the plank.

Cas didn’t even dare to breathe when they finally lowered his barrel, its base meeting the deck with a dull thud. The ship moved beneath him, slowly rocking back and forth with the rhythm of the waves. After a moment, the creak of footsteps faded, swallowed up by the muffled crash of waves as the ship loaders descended back down the plank.

Once Cas was sure they were gone—and for the first time since this nightmare of a day had started—the mer-prince relaxed. He let out a long exhale, slumping against the side of the barrel as his mind attempted to process that, against all odds, his plan had worked.

Now, if only he’d also thought of a way to get out of the barrel.

Cas wasn’t exactly expecting a warm reception from Valentine. In fact, he had a feeling that when he was inevitably discovered, Valentine would probably fall somewhere between a nine and a ten on the “let’s murder Cas” scale.

He sighed, his arms wrapped around his folded legs. Well, that would just have to be a problem for tomorrow’s Cas, he thought. Right now he was way too exhausted to think, let alone scheme up a proper plan.

Hopefully he’d come up with something before Valentine decided to send a bullet flying through his skull.

***

Cas awoke to a stream of bright light. This was quite concerning, considering that upon falling asleep last night, his barrel had had a lid.

His head jerked up, and he winced instantly at the painful ache in his neck and shoulders. Cas made a mental note to never fall asleep in a barrel ever again.

The crash of the waves and the shrill shriek of the seagulls surrounded him, briny ocean air filling his lungs. Swallowing hard, he lifted his head, finding two faces staring down at him over the rim of the barrel.

Cas recognized one as the redhead he’d seen the other day, his wiry frame a stark contrast beside the bald giant of a man standing next to him. The latter was a walking canvas of tattoos, intricate designs covering every inch of his skin, while a golden ring dangled from his nose like an ox. Cas shuddered as his gaze fell to the man’s massive arms, which could probably crush his head like a watermelon.

“Well,” the bald one said, his voice so deep it practically vibrated through the air. “This ain’t the biscuit barrel.”

“Yeah,” the redhead replied, his tawny eyes still wide as he stared down at Cas. “That’s, um… definitely not a biscuit.”

“Hiya, fellas,” Cas said, offering them an awkward smile. “You seem like reasonable men. So, err… why don’t the three of us strike a deal? You just go on about your day like you never saw me and in return… I’ll… um…”

Cas thought for a moment, perking up. “I’ll give you a fabulous hat! I only have one, though. So you’ll have to share it. But I promise, it's totally worth it. According to the guy I bought it from, it’s so gorgeous that when a soldier wore it into battle, his enemies just dropped their weapons and wept at its beauty.”

The pair stared back at Cas with wide, rounded eyes.

Cas flashed them a crooked grin. “Normally, I would never give up such a treasure, but you boys seem like gentlemen of taste. Surely fellows as, uh... distinguished as yourselves would properly cherish such a phenomenal piece of headwear. ”

He winked. “So, what do you say?” Cas proceeded to stick his hand out of the barrel, waggling it in an attempt to get one of them to shake it. “Do we have a deal?”

Instead of responding, the giant man reached into the barrel, grabbing Cas roughly and flinging him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Okay,” Cas said. “So I’m going to take that as a no.”

The man didn’t respond. He simply moved in silence across the deck with Cas still draped over one shoulder, the redhead scampering after them. The heads of their fellow crew members turned to watch as they passed, staring in confusion.

“So,” Cas said with a sigh, letting his arms and legs flop limply. “I assume you’re bringing me to Valentine?”

“Mm-n,” came the rumbled reply.

“You do realize he’s probably going to kill me, right?”

“Mm-n,” the bald man said.

Cas’ eyes narrowed. “And you’re just like… okay with that?”

The bald man nodded. “Mm-n.”

“Wow, I see you’re quite the conversationalist,” Cas muttered, letting out another weary sigh. “I bet you’re a blast at parties.”

“Mm-n.”