The Blackened Soul

by Candace Osmond

  He continued to advance, the blade just inches from my face with every slice through the air. Half the room was cast in moonlight, the other drowned in darkness. I fell to the floor as I dodged another swipe and crawled into the shadows, out of sight. My sword was there somewhere.

  Desperate and full of panic, I felt around until the familiar etchings of the hilt brushed against my fingertips. I could hear Henry’s clunky footsteps just inches away. I sprung to my feet just as the man I loved was about to take another swing at me and brought my blade up to meet his.

  The sound of metal on metal pierced through the air and I could see how the sensation rang through Henry’s body. He was resurfacing, coming closer to reality and climbing out of the horrid nightmare that played in his mind.

  His arm moved again, lifting his sword and swinging it back down toward me. I advanced. My blade met his again. And again. And again. We danced back and forth in the moonlight, metal clashing, and me pleading for the man before me to wake up. I was good with my weapon, but I didn’t know how long I could keep it up.

  “Henry, sweetheart,” I spoke loudly as I spun to dodge his swipe. “Wake up, God damn it!”

  More groans and incoherent mumbling from him as his weapon cut through the air between us.

  I was getting tired, but so was he. I could tell as much from the simple way he began to lag. His movements sluggish. In a fit of tears and cries, he took one more swing at me, but I was too slow. The tip of his blade caught my shift and tore a hole across the center, just missing the surface of my skin by hairs.

  That was the last straw.

  Angry, I ferociously advanced, forcing him into a corner where I could unarm the pirate and bring him to his senses. Clank, clank, clank, our cold metal met until he could retreat no further. With one hand I grabbed his wrist. The other held the length of my weapon across his chest as I pushed him up against the wall. His grip around the hilt let go and his sword fell to the floor at our feet with a heavy ting. Mine remained tight against his bare body.

  I dared not falter again.

  The sleeping man didn’t fight back, but his breathing quickened to the point of hyperventilation as he slowly urged forward, pressing his naked skin against my razor-sharp edge. I could hear the crisp break of his flesh as it cut into him. My stomach toiled. Tiny drops of blood began to run down his sweaty chest and I choked back tears.

  “Henry, please,” I begged once more.

  I was about to give up and let Henry go, but the sensation must have been enough to pull him out of the waking nightmare because he suddenly gasped. A stark intake of air that cleared his mind and brought him back to me. He finally refrained from pushing against the blade and stood tall. Confused.

  “W-where–” Frantically, his eyes searched the room and then landed on me, falling to the weapon I held and then noted the blood dripping down his front. “What on Earth is happening?”

  Words evaded me. I’d been in a fight-or-flight mode until that moment and now the events rushed through my mind, sinking in. My muscles still tense and my fingers shaking, tears flowed heavily down my face.

  Henry nearly killed me.

  “Did I… Christ. Dianna, what did I do? Are you hurt?”

  His hands reached for me, but I backed away, my sword falling to the floor. I needed time to process it all. I didn’t want to be touched. By him or by anyone, for that matter. All I wanted was to get off this damn ship and run toward the never-ending horizon.

  My trembling arms wrapped around my heaving torso. “I-I’m fine.”

  “Dian–”

  “Just leave, please.” I turned and grabbed a quilt from the bed and threw it over my shoulders. Henry didn’t move. Didn’t speak. His ragged breaths filled the quiet room, making my skin crawl. “Just leave, Henry!”

  I clambered into bed and cocooned myself in the rest of the blankets, waiting for him to go. I didn’t want Henry to see, but my hands were shaking past the point of control and I held them tight against my body. I think I was in shock. He stood there in the corner for a few minutes, but I didn’t protest. I knew he had his own realities to process and I let him come to the conclusion on his own. Finally, he spoke. A low whisper as he moved across the room toward the door.

  “I’ll never forgive myself for what just happened,” he paused and inhaled a breath of sobs, “and I’ll leave. I’ll sleep down in the quarters belowdecks until we get to England.” I heard his footsteps reach the door and the old brass knob twisted open. “Lock the door behind me.”

  And just like that, he was gone.

  ***

  I stayed in my quarters most of the next day, only slipping out of bed long enough to answer the door when Lottie came with food in the late afternoon. She never asked, never spoke of what was going on and why Henry had slept down belowdecks. I knew she wanted to. But, like the good friend she was, waited until I was ready.

  I crawled back into my nest of quilts with my tray of food and sat cross-legged to eat it. But when I glanced down at the plate of toutans covered in molasses, I couldn’t help but cry. I’d never be able to look at one of my favorite dishes again without thinking of him. Without the flood of not-too-distant memories and how our fateful paths crossed. The fried bread dough was one of the ways I’d won Henry over when I was first taken prisoner aboard The Devil’s Heart. If I had known then what I knew now about his tortured mind, I may not have come…

  No.

  I chastised myself for even entertaining the thought. I would always come back for my Henry. Through time, through anything. No matter how blackened his soul may be. Our love was strong enough to conquer anything. That much I knew for certain and I held on to that affirmation with every fiber of my being.

  Obviously, falling in love with me had helped him heal in a way I never knew he needed. But the time he spent on Kelly’s Island did something to the man I loved. It set him back and scrambled his brain. I just had to figure out how to help him heal a second time.

  I took a few bites of my food and washed it down with lukewarm tea before getting dressed. My bruised arms protested at the slight pressure of heavy sleeves. I exited my quarters and made my rounds on The Queen, making sure everyone was doing okay and things were all in good working order. Glancing up at the dreary sky and fast-moving clouds, I remembered what Finn had said about a possible storm coming and went to find him.

  “Finn!” I called as I approached him by the ship’s wheel.

  He turned to face me. “Aye, Captain?”

  “That storm,” I began, “do you think it’s still going to hit us?”

  He nodded and cast his face to the clouds. “Aye, and I reckon harder than I first imagined.”

  “How hard?”

  “Sky’s dark. The wind was chilly this mornin’, but now it’s warm.” He sighed heavily and rubbed his red beard. “It could get rough. I’d advise ye sleep down below ‘til it passes.”

  My lips pursed in thought. I couldn’t be anywhere near a sleeping Henry for a few days. I needed time to process the startling events of the night before and figure out a way to help him overcome it. I couldn’t imagine the immense sense of guilt he must be feeling. But I just didn’t have the right frame of mind to talk to him. Not about anything too heavy, anyway.

  “No, I’ll be alright in my quarters. I’ll secure everything. Just make sure the ship is ready for the storm.”

  “Aye, Captain,” he replied, his expression hovering, waiting.

  I closed my eyes tightly. “Henry will be fine.”

  “’Tis not he I’m worried ‘bout.”

  I tried to smile, but it came out more like a half-turned frown as I pat my friend’s arm. “I’m fine. I’ll… be fine.”

  He never replied, just eyed me curiously. I wondered then, what I looked like to everyone. Was I the crazy woman from the future? Or the naïve girl that they were stuck with as their captain? Or were they all just humoring me? I’d be the first to admit, I had no idea what I was doing.

  B
ut I tried my best and learned quickly. I wanted to be a great captain. But maybe dealing with a pregnancy and a broken Henry made me unfit. Maybe that’s the real reason women weren’t welcome on the sea. We brought with us too many possibilities of failure. Too many emotions.

  I inhaled deeply and left Finn to climb the stairs that led to the deck above my quarters. Up there, I could see out over my ship and everyone on it. I could be alone but present at the same time and I often sought refuge at my post. The warm wind tousled the straggly black curls that hung from underneath my hat and I gripped the wooden railing tightly. Lost in thought.

  Drowning in worry.

  I didn’t even notice Henry climb the stairs until he approached me from the side. His sudden presence made all the tiny hairs on my body stand on end. I wasn’t ready to talk to him. Even if I were, I’d no idea what to say. But, still, my heart hurt to see the pain and guilt that flooded his body.

  “I just wanted to see how you were doing,” he told me, head hanging low.

  It took every once of my being to hold myself together. “I’m fine.”

  Despite the warm breeze, a cold silence hung between us as we stood there, not able to reach one another’s eyes. I didn’t tell him to go because I knew, deep down, Henry was killing himself over what had happened, and he probably felt the need to comfort me. But how do you comfort someone when you’re the one that hurt them? His conflictions were obvious. I understood them. I had my own, after all.

  “Do you want me to leave?” he asked after a while.

  “Do you mean right now or in general? Because, to be honest, I’m not sure how I feel about either at the moment.” I regret the words the second they left my lips, but I really was being truthful. My feelings were all over the place and I was in no position to make a decision like that.

  His trembling lips pursed under the blonde scruff of his face and he nodded. “Very well, then.” He stepped back, heading to the stairs. “I’ll leave you be.”

  What a burden it is to harbor such conflicting emotions. I ached to be near him and, yet, my logical mind warned me to stay away. I was at war with myself and there was no way to tell which side would win.

  Be smart, cut my losses, flee everything once we reached England and find a way back to the future? Or stay. My chest suddenly filled with anxiety at the thought of leaving Henry and my mouth took on a mind of its own as I called after him descending the stairs.

  “Henry!” I spewed out. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. But my mind drew a blank. I searched for words, to tell him to wait, have patience with me while I processed what happened between us. But all that came out was, “I love you.”

  He smiled, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “And I you, Time Traveller.”

  The sky began to fall with warm droplets of rain as he continued down the stairs and strolled across the ship’s deck with a heavy weight on his shoulders. I remained where I stood, unable to move even if I wanted to. My mind weighed down with the burden of my thoughts and my heart ached for the man I loved.

  I felt lost.

  I stayed up there, letting the rain soak into my clothes until they stuck to me like a second skin. The sun had gone down, and the crew busied about to make sure everything on the ship was secure. Finally, I peeled myself from my post and made my way down to my quarters to change and dry off. It didn’t take long for Lottie to come knocking. I opened the door to find her, tray in hand, and curious eyes that were eager to talk.

  “Come in,” I said and walked over to the little table and chairs by the window.

  Lottie entered and shut the door before coming over to join me. She set the tray down and sat.

  “I saw you up there in the rain,” she began as she poured tea into two cups. “Figured you’d need something to warm your bones.”

  I scooped up the tiny china cup and held it in both hands while inhaling the steam. “Thanks. It’s just what I needed, actually.”

  Lottie chewed at the inside of her mouth, bubbling in thought. We both sat in silence, the only sounds were that of our frequent sipping. Finally, she spoke. “So, are you going to tell me what the Hell is going on?”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  “Too bad,” she replied sternly. “Aren’t you the one who says talking is the way to heal?”

  “Yes, but it’s not–”

  She set her cup down hard. “So, heal.”

  I wanted to protest, tell her to mind her own business. But, in the end, she was right. I was getting nowhere with my own thoughts. Perhaps talking through it will help me process it all.

  “Henry had another episode last night,” I told my friend. She leaned back in her chair, inviting me to continue. “Only, it was worse than before. I woke up to him flailing about in bed, clearly having a nightmare. I tried to wake him but…”

  The words died on my tongue. I couldn’t say it. And I realized then, my problem. It was denial. I so badly wanted to ignore what happened, to just forgive and forget. Pretend it never happened. Because it would be the easier way.

  But I couldn’t.

  “But what?” Lottie prompted, leaning forward to rest a comforting hand on my knee. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No. I mean… yes. Sort of.”

  Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Well, which is it? Either Henry hurt you or he didn’t.”

  “He was trapped in the nightmare and grabbed my arms as a reflex. He was defending himself, in a way.” I stopped to swallow hard as I relieved the events in my mind. The fresh bruises on my arm throbbed like a second heartbeat. “He thought I was… Henry had been dreaming of Maria.”

  She reclined again, eyes wide. “Christ.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I said. “But that wasn’t the worst part.”

  Her brows raised. “There’s more?”

  “After I pushed him off the bed, he went into this sort of attack mode,” I tried to ignore Lottie’s confused expression at my words, but corrected them anyway, “Uh, like, as if he were fighting someone. Physically.” That seemed to get translate so I continued. “Still asleep, he drew his sword. How he knew where it was, I have no idea. Then he…” I shrugged, shaking my head, mouth gaping. Fighting back tears, I managed to say, “Well, it’s just good that Finn taught me to use one.”

  My friend took my words and crossed her arms as her eyes wandered, deep in thought. “But he was asleep the whole time?”

  “Yes. Most definitely yes,” I replied.

  “Then it’s not really his fault.”

  “No,” I sighed, “it’s not.”

  Lottie’s eyes continued to search far into her mind. “But he still–”

  “Nearly killed me? Yeah.”

  “Christ almighty,” she cursed and blew out an exasperated breath. “So, what are you going to do?”

  I shrugged, tears welling in my eyes. “I have no clue.”

  Lottie dragged her chair closer to me and took my hands in hers. “You listen here. This is what you’re going to do.” She squeezed, forcing me to look into her cerulean eyes. Sharp with intent. “Come to terms with what happened, it’s in the past, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. You’re strong, one of the strongest people I have ever met. Look at what you’ve done, what you’ve accomplished.”

  “Yeah, but–”

  “But nothing. My mind is racing, trying to imagine what you must have faced last night. All on your own. It would have broken me. And, yet, here you are.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I was shocked to hear my friend say such things because, to me, Lottie was the toughest person around. No one could crack her. No one dared mess with the blonde beauty who could wield knives like a ninja and then fill your belly with a warm meal. She was so brave. But I wondered then, how much of it was an act, a front to hide her true insecurities. After all, she grew up on a pirate ship. She must have had to toughen up pretty fast.

  “Henry has a tortured past, and he’s facing that now. Las
t night must have been terrifying for you. But look how you handled it. Don’t let this break you, Dianna. You’re much stronger than that. Once you’ve accepted that truth, you can help Henry,” she continued. “He needs to talk about it, too. Or I fear he’ll just get worse.”

  I nodded. “Yes, you’re right.” God, she was so right. “One of us has to stay strong. Or we’ll both fall apart.”

  Lottie leaned in further and wrapped her arms around me. “I love you, Dianna.”

  I was taken back by her sudden show of affection. She so rarely offered it. “I love you, too. I honestly don’t know what I would have done on this voyage without you.”

  “And you’ll never have to know the answer to that,” she replied and broke free of our embrace. “Get some rest, sleep on this, and talk to Henry in the morning with a fresh mind.”

  I managed a weak smile for my friend and stood to walk her to the door. “Thanks, Lottie, you have no idea how much I needed this.”

  “Do you want me to stay here with you tonight?”

  “No, I’m fine. I’ll be alright,” I told her. “Besides, if that storm is coming, I want you down below where it’s safe.”

  “You should take your own advice, Dianna.”

  “No, I can’t,” I inhaled deeply, “I’d feel trapped down there.”

  She hesitated but left it alone, and I stood in the doorway to watch her run across the wet deck and descend the ladder to belowdecks. The rain was pouring down now, and the ship began to rock with the heave of anxious waves. I shut the door and crawled into bed where I soon fell into a deep dreamless state, free of my fears and anxieties. A black sleep, void of all the things I had to face in the morning.

  Chapter Four

  Nothing hurts like falling out of bed. Except, perhaps, being violently thrown from your sleep in the dead of night. Lightning flashed, filling the room with silver light for a split second as I pulled myself from the floor.

  Crap. The storm.