81 Death on the Water.

"Oh, the ugly beast of unliving discrimination rears its head once more," Percy moaned, stepping onto the deck and leaning against the wall. "Just because someone dies, all feelings stop, is that it?"

"Usually," replied the devil.

"You! You should be on my side," Percy said. "You're not alive either."

"But I don't get sick," it pointed out.

"Now you mention it," Cuthbert said. "I don't feel too good myself. Do I look pale to you?"

Dreth looked at the two zombies critically. "You may be a little greener than usual, but I put that down to rot, not seasickness."

"Daddy! I feel funny," Sprat chimed in. "And not a good funny, like when I ate that boys' brain."

The medical debate was cut short by the sound of footsteps, and Tybalt's head appeared up the steps from the lower deck. "We're being intercepted!" he reported.

"We know," said Dreth. "Blue and a couple of her friends."