by Chanda Hahn
Howland stepped in front of me. The old man puffed out his chest and tried to stand up to Fang, even though he only stood a few inches over me. He pointed to the oncoming longboat. “Ye best prepare for the crew’s return.”
“The crew’s back already?” Fang asked in surprise.
Fang and Thorn glanced over the side of the ship at the longboat, and they seemed shocked. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought these men were in league with Sirena. For how else had they escaped her clutches?
“And the captain.”
Thorn cussed under his breath.
“How did ye escape the spell?” Howland asked.
Fang reached up and pulled out chunks of wax from his ears. “Something my father taught me when under attack by sea folk.”
“Ye coulda shared that knowledge with the crew,” Howland growled.
Fang shook his head. “You seem just fine.”
Howland lunged and I grabbed his arm, holding him back. The old man sighed before backing down. He patted my shoulder, shoving me toward the galley away from danger.
Howland and I quickly prepared the rations. We would probably sail away fast, and the men needed sustenance while they worked. I used the time to explain to Howland what I discovered in the storeroom, what I believed to be selkie furs.
“So that explains why Fang reacted the way he did. I bet he hoped ye woulda died and their nasty secret with ‘em.”
I grimaced, thinking back to the painful lashes. “I’m not sure how I didn’t either.”
“Well, ye only received three lashes before a mighty storm came. Scared the men, so they threw ye in the brig. I’m so sorry I couldn’t help ye, Meri.”
I heard the commotion and the confusion when the captain and crew came aboard.
“I best go hand out the rations.” Howland sighed, putting down his knife. “I’d stay down here if I were you until this business with Thorn and Fang is over.”
“I know,” I muttered.
I listened as Howland limped out of the galley and headed up to the deck. I could hear muffled cursing from the men. The ceiling sounded like it was caving in as heavy footfalls ran down the steps and toward the galley.
Brennon burst through the door. “You’re here!” he gushed when he saw me sitting at the wood table.
“I’m here,” I replied softly, waiting for him to yell, curse, or cuff me for leaving his room.
He blinked and looked at me in confusion. “You’ve been here.” He pointed his finger at the floor. I could tell from his dilated pupils that he was still under the effects of Sirena’s spell. He was probably still in shock from dying and being revived. It would’ve been easy to pretend I had never left the ship at all.
“I was here in the brig, actually,” I said.
“The brig? Why were you in the brig?” His hands fell to his sides.
“Fang and Thorn,” I said sourly. “Fang gave me three lashes for stealing.”
“Did you?” Brennon’s voice was stern.
“No,” I snapped as all the emotions from the last few days came pouring out of me. “I found what I believe to be selkie furs.”
Brennon’s look of concern turned to one of suspicion. “Selkie furs. Are you sure?”
“Yes. I overheard them earlier say they were trying to unload them in Fairehaven but could not. They’re hidden inside an ornamental rug.”
His lips pressed into a vindictive line. The muscles in his jaw clenched angrily. “A pirate. Just like his father. I will deal with both of them shortly.”
Howland returned carrying an empty crate. He moved to the other side of the long worktable and watched the captain warily.
Brennon paced the galley in thought. “So, you weren’t on the island? I could have sworn you saved me. That you....” He ran his hands through his hair.
“I wasn’t on the island,” I repeated firmly. “I never left the ship.”
He shook his head in disbelief and reached for my hat, and I pulled away from him. “Don’t touch me,” I warned.
Howland came to my rescue and stepped between us. “Ye heard ‘im.”
Brennon’s face turned hard. I saw the clench of his jaw as he glared at me and shook his head. “I must have been mistaken then.” He had to grip the pillar for support as he swayed slightly.
“Are you okay?” I asked worriedly.
“No. I mean… yes, I will be as soon as we leave this dreaded island. It was a mistake to come here.” Without further accusation, he spun and stormed out.
“Merisol,” Howland muttered. “Why would ye deceive the captain like that? What good would come from lyin’ about bein’ on the island?” Howland was the one to turn distrustful eyes my way. “What happened in that place that has everyone actin’ all crazy?”
“You were right. It is a cursed place, and for the sake of the men and myself, I cannot speak of what transpired. It’s safer for me if they don’t know what happened. Can you trust me on this?”
He scratched the shadow of a beard along his chin and sighed. “I’ll trust ya, but just to let ye know, I won’t be lyin’ for ye. If he asks me straight out, I will tell ‘im.”
I nodded and accepted the peace and comfort that gave me. Sailors were a very superstitious bunch, and if they knew I was a sorceress, I’d be tossed overboard. That’s why I hid after rescuing them and why I would continue to hide my identity. Brennon called for all hands to go on deck and drop sails. Everyone was in a hurry to leave. I was wrong about saving the whole crew. Despite my rescue attempt, there were seven members missing. Not all of us escaped the sea witch’s clutches. I prayed they were still alive and ended up marooned on the island, but then I remembered the cave full of skulls and I knew better. They were gone.
Without their help, they tasked me with climbing the chains to the foremast and dropping the top-gallant sail. Being as small as I was, I felt like a spider clinging to a web for dear life. But I feared failure more. I, too, wanted to leave this dreaded place.
Once I unfurled the sail, Crowley began securing it. I threaded my arm through the rope chain as we sailed away. From my perch by the crow’s nest, the island slowly became nothing more than a black speck on the horizon. When it was the size of a marble, I finally felt the weight lifted from my chest.
Brennon was a different man after he returned. Not once did he comment on my vacancy from his quarters. In fact, it was as if he forgot who I was completely and the game he accused me of playing. I counted my blessings and went to sleep in my hammock. Though the eight empty hammocks next to me haunted my sleep.
I dreamed of men drowning, of a shell piercing my hand, of being eaten alive by mermaids. And finally, I dreamed of the sea witch. Standing over my hammock, touching my face.
Gasping, I sat up so fast I almost rolled out of the hammock. My breathing was ragged, salt crusting my cheeks from silent night terrors. In my hand, I clutched the dagger—the same one I had abandoned in the cavern when I dove underwater to save the crew.
I pulled the dagger from the pearl sheath and gazed at the deadly double-sided blade. Sheathing it, I glanced over at the floor below me and saw the footprint-sized puddles that led from my hammock up the stairs.
Chapter Fourteen
Our course and speed were nigh impossible. Brennon had become a man possessed and hardly left the helm, determined to put as much distance between the island and our ship. We had even dumped non-essentials to lighten our load. Only when the fog became too thick or the seas became too rough for the knots we were sailing did he slow.
They had tried Fang and Thorn at sea and found them guilty. The captain sent them to the brig for the rest of the journey. They were lucky they weren’t tossed overboard, for Brennon was angry enough he could have killed them.
Since the island, I threw myself into work so I wouldn’t have to worry about the curse. I had to mop out Brennon and Vasili’s cabins, polished their boots, and spent the rest of my time mending sails or running up and down the chains. It was backbreak
ing work, but I dared not appear weak or risk drawing attention back to me.
But then I would chuckle to myself. I was a powerful sorceress. I didn’t need protection from a man. Yet, using my magic terrified me. Multiple times a day, I would stare at the coral pattern and trace it on my hand, wondering if it had grown any larger since the last time I looked. I kept telling myself that maybe if I didn’t use magic ever again, I would never fully be siphoned.
But I knew it to be a foolish dream, for each day the white poison marker moved an inch up my arm. Some days, I was the barrelman and had to sit in the forward crow’s nest. I could see seven shadowy figures following in the Bella Donna’s wake. I was so fixated on what was following us that I didn’t notice the temperature rise, the wind change, or the wall of white clouds until I heard the most dreaded call.
“Squall!” Crowley cried out, pointing toward the oncoming storm.
“All hands on deck! Get the sails stowed! Batten down those hatches!” Brennon roared.
I scrambled out of the crow’s nest, climbed down to the top yard, and crawled out to the end. Securing my feet in the footropes under the yard, I frantically tried to stow the sails. Crowley, Swifty, and Adair quickly climbed up and joined me on the yard.
“We won’t get them all secured,” Conroy warned. “Do your best, boy, and when the storm gets us, tether yourself to the ship and hold on for dear life. Do you understand?”
I nodded while clinging to the yard. My hands clawed at the sail as others pulled the ropes to secure them. I worked at a frenzied pace while continually glancing up at the white wall we were sailing into. I tried to hide my fear from the others as we secured one sail. In front of me, I could see others on the fore mast doing the same thing. If we left the sails up as we went through the storm, they could be destroyed, and we would be left adrift at sea.
Howland and Barley were scurrying across the deck, using batten rods to close and secure the hatches that led below. Vasili and Brennon were discussing the storm. I could see Vasili using his hands to direct the best sailing route. Brennon shook his head and pointed to the west.
The storm was a good ways away, but on a normal day, it could take a full day to stow the sails; we knew they wouldn’t all survive the coming storm. We did our best. But my best wasn’t good enough for me. When the others had made their descent, I struggled with my section of the sail.
“C’mon, boy! Leave it. It’s not worth yer life,” Howland cupped his hands and yelled up at me.
The crew tied themselves off using spare rope to the sides and the masts, in case they were thrown overboard. I knew I had forgotten something as I rushed out onto the yard. The closer to the storm we came, the more the end of the sail flapped out of my reach. I just needed to secure this last bit. My fingers worked at the knot as the waves got rough.
Brennon turned the ship to hit the waves at an angle, the waves knocking into the ship, the wind whipping us relentlessly.
I clung to the yard, too scared to shimmy back down to the mast.
“Merisol!” Howland yelled. “Get moving. Now!” He stomped his foot.
It was my actual name that did it. I abandoned the corner of the sail and, hand over hand, my ankles wrapped around each other, I pulled myself toward the mast.
We crested another wave as I was going down the rope chains. I missed a step and felt myself fall. I screamed and reached out, clawing for purchase. My face smacked against the chains, the rope burning my cheek as I slid and tumbled down. My arm caught on a cross hair of rope, and I slowed. My hat disappeared in my tumble.
Warm blood trickled down my face, and fear paralyzed me. If I let go, it would fling me into the sea. I could sing, but then I could also die. The wind and waves beat at my heart and soul as I contemplated just ending it all. Letting go. And then I wouldn’t have to kill anyone, and the sea witch couldn’t claim my powers for her daughters.
One by one, I worked my fingers loose, and I was about to release, when a hand clamped over mine.
“Don’t you dare let go!” Brennon growled. I looked up into his stormy eyes. His blond hair was pulled back, but the wind whipped out tendrils. Rain and water dripped from his nose onto my cheek. He had scrambled up the lines and placed himself over me, pushing me farther into the chains. “Tie yourself to me,” he ordered.
“I can’t move,” I cried out.
Brennon wrung one hand in the rung above me then quickly worked a rope around my waist. He brought his face low to my waist and used his teeth to tighten it. He came back up, yanking on the rope, and gave me a sly grin.
His warm hand wrapped around my waist and pressed me closer to his chest. As I followed his lead, Brennon and I took it step by step. When we made it to the deck, he wasn’t ready to let me go. He gripped my hand and pulled me into an embrace, as if he tried to shelter me with his very body. I shivered against the cold and against the heat that burned between us.
Vasili had taken the helm. Man against the sea, man was losing. Crowley rushed to his side, and both men struggled to keep the ship steady as we hit another massive wave.
One of the partly tied sails became unfurled.
“Watch out!” Brennon pushed me to the deck as the wind snapped the closest sail, and it flung around. The end of the sail was like a snake with its head cut off, whipping in the air, catching a few off-guard, and sending one man into the sea.
I could hear his scream, and then it stopped.
“This is not a natural storm,” Brennon cried.
I closed my eyes and listened to the sea as Brennon’s words rang through me. It wasn’t a normal squall. Magic created it, and I knew what was happening. The sea witch sent this. She wanted me to save them again. If I used my magic, she could syphon me faster.
I pushed against Brennon’s warm body. “Untie me,” I said.
“Are you crazy? If I do, you’ll die.”
“We are all going to die if I don’t do something crazy.” I placed my hand on Brennon’s arm and gave it a squeeze. “Trust me.”
He looked at me and nodded. He untied me from his waist, and I walked out onto the deck. I stumbled a few times but then quickly regained my footing.
I couldn’t hide who I was anymore. There was no shame in being a daughter of Eville. There was no shame in being me.
I pictured the emblems in my mind and sang them into being. My hands, first lifeless at my side, raised as my voice crescendoed. Instead of looking at the glowing white markers that were slowly burning up my arm, I closed my eyes and sang.
Sang a song of silence to the wind.
A song of obedience to the waves.
My arm burned, and I could feel the mark burning up to my elbow. But I would not give up until the ship was safe. The sea, at first, didn’t want to listen, like a petulant child, but I could feel the authority deep within myself. I had only briefly touched it in the cavern. The power came.
I commanded.
The sea obeyed.
Then it was over. I opened my eyes and saw the boat was sitting on a still ocean. The sky was clear and the sun shone across my face.
Never had I used so much of my power. Never before had I sung until my voice was raw. Even though the storm passed and the boat was still, the deck rocked beneath my feet.
I saw Brennon’s white face, and I tried to move toward him, but my world slid out of focus as I blacked out.
I awoke disoriented with a pounding headache. As my eyes adjusted, I realized I was in Brennon’s bed without a single window left cracked open or a lamp left to give me light. Stumbling through the darkness, I found the door and turned the latch. He locked it. My fists nor my voice brought anyone to my aid. How dare they lock me in like a prisoner? From the position of the sun in the sky, I slept through the night and it was past noon.
A candle mark later, I heard the click of the door, and it swung open as Brennon stepped inside with a tray of food.
“Why do you lock me up like a criminal?” I asked with venom in my voice.
/> I had taken Brennon’s chair at the table and sat facing the door. My knees were pulled up in front of me. It wasn’t very ladylike, but since I was still wearing pants, I didn’t care.
Brennon wouldn’t make eye contact with me. He placed the tray on the table and removed the lid. I had seen the fare Howland and I prepared for Brennon and his officers. This was nothing more than my daily rations. Dried biscuits and fish.
“Because you are a criminal,” Brennon answered. “Or is there a different reason the men were chasing you at the waystation?”
I wrapped my hands around my knees and refused to answer him.
Brennon slammed the dome lid back on the tray. “I’m doing this for your protection.”
“By keeping me a prisoner?”
“By keeping you alive. Most of those on board don’t like your kind and would sooner put a knife in your back.”
“My kind?” I asked, dumbfounded.
“Many blame you for what happened on the island. That you bewitched and killed their comrades. They are calling you a witch.”
“Sorceress,” I corrected. “I was not born a witch. I had a gift for sensing water magic and was trained in its control. Just as someone trained you to see the wind and sail on the sea.” I snorted and looked away. I was in a foul mood, and Brennon’s mood echoed my own.
“Nevertheless, you shall remain here.”
“What have I done that deserves this?”
He turned and gave me the full force of his gaze, and I trembled under the weight of it. I could sense his impatience. “You lied to me.”
“I-I... uh….” I couldn’t correct him. My shoulders dropped, and I nodded.
“You were on the island. There’s no doubt about it. I remember you, but you did something to our memories. Now I have to figure out what part you played. If you were in league with the sea witch the whole time.”
“No, Brennon. I’m not.”
“That’s Captain Pike to you!” His voice was hard.
