He squints at the ceiling and jumps back, his stocky legs bumping into the refurbished desk behind him. He covers his eyes with his large palm and bellows, “What in god’s name is tha'?”
A laugh gurgles to my throat which I hastily push down. I rush to the Captain’s side and grab his bicep with both of my arms.
“Captain! Calm down it’s just a ceiling lamp.”
He straightens up clapping his hand over both of mine and peeking at the ceiling light. “Where's the fire?”
Removing my hands from his, I pat his arm. “It’s a new invention... Uh, I mean it’s a type of magic, like your candle and the lanterns which we’ve moved onto the deck. I had it installed throughout the ship as a surprise for you. We have running water to wash with too, and I updated the décor a bit.” I say it all in a rush, thinking fast and coming up with the best fabrication I can.
He seems calmed by the idea of magic as he steps away from me to inspect the rest of the room. The floor and walls remain wooden with red velvet curtains draping over the windows, held back by threaded gold tiebacks.
There is a vase of fresh sunflowers on a newly acquired French coffee table in front of the re-upholstered chaise longue. I can already smell the flowers’ sweet fragrance wafting with the sea breeze and ridding the room of the harsh chemical smell of varnish and thinners.
The Captain flops into his chair, placing his hands on the desk before him. “Well, it looks nice.”
I smile.
“What other updates did ye make?”
I shrug slumping into the chaise longue. Pushing the damask patterned scatter cushions to the side. “Nothing serious. I mean we have plates, knives and forks now.”
His brow puckers. “What do we need with forks?”
“Well... We can eat with them.”
He doesn’t look convinced but drops the subject. “From now on don’t surprise me okay.”
I nod slipping my thumbs into the belt loops of my new jeans and leaning back. “So, you like it?”
He looks down at the shimmering surface of the desk and picks at his teeth. Grunting he looks back at me. “It seems ta make ye ‘appy.”
“It does, but I also want it to make you happy.”
“I like it, lass, it makes ye ‘appy and so I'm ‘appy.”
My lips part to argue with him. A knock interrupts me, reverberating throughout the room. I guess the acoustics of the room will always echo.
The Captain rolls his eyes. “Ye see what ye did lass? Now all the lads are knocking.” He hides his smile as he yells towards the door, which is still standing wide open. “What are ye knocking for ye scurvy dogs? Get in here.”
I giggle as Riley and Gus enter. Gus is holding a small silver pistol and behind him follow two tanned men who look as if they are twins and a hooded man with green eyes.
I sit up straight. Were they having another meeting? Should I leave?
“Here are the men you asked for Captain,” Riley says moving away from them.
“Thanks, Riley, ye can go.”
Riley nods and turns to leave the room. He closes the door behind him his eyes downcast. Is he avoiding my eyes? What had happened on their excursion? My heart drops into my belly. Have I done something to upset him?
“Lass, these four have the finest talents of all my crew.”
I look up startled from my worries.
The Captain taps his fingers against his desk as if playing the piano. “I’ve asked them ta instruct and aid ye with their knowledge, and so shall I.”
I gulp stuttering, “Oh,” in my shock. What is going on?
He seems to read my thoughts. “It’s important that ye know these things lass, in case yer life, is ever in danger.”
I blink as I finally understand. The Captain beckons for one of them to step forward. The men look at each other, all except the hooded one, until finally, Gus takes the initiative, brandishing his silver pistol towards me.
I shy away from it, ducking my head behind one of the large scatter cushions.
“For ye lass, don’t be afraid.” He precedes to poke my knee with it.
I push the cushion down and eye him warily. “Okay! Just don’t prod me with that thing or wave it around like that.”
His laugh tinkles throughout the room. He places the weapon flat on my open palm. It has an intricate vintage design and is very pretty for something so dangerous.
“It is for ye. I’ll show ye how ta use it.”
“Thank you. That’s kind of you.”
He shakes his curly little head excitedly. “It’s one of me favourites.”
Finally, I relax. Gus is giving me something special to him and I'm acting like he's a cat who has just dropped a dead mouse at my feet.
“Then I will take extra special care of it.” I place it on the seat beside me, making sure the barrel faces away from everyone in the room... just in case.
The two men who look like twins nudge each other before the left one speaks. “I’m Dante and this is my brother, Colin. The Captain wants us to teach you how to fight.”
I squint at them as I interpret what they are saying. Their accents are alluring and very close to what I'd heard of Caribbean speakers. I then realize what they are saying.
My eyes grow. Fight? Like Kung Fu? I'm not sure if I will be very good at that. I stand and shake their hands which are limp and attached to rigid arms. I guess handshakes aren’t normal? I’d wave at the hooded guy then...
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say. “And thank you. I don’t know how good I’ll be at it though.”
Colin’s eyes narrow as Dante speaks. “You are only as good as you allow yourself to be. With us teaching you, you will be the best.”
I move away from them so that the back of my knees press into the side of the chaise.
“I don’t doubt that.” I turn to look at the hooded man who has remained silent and stoic. I wave and his dark eyes turn to slits.
“This is Caiseal. He dabbles in magic.” The Captain murmurs.
It's as if a hush goes over the room and a shiver takes off down my spine.
“You’re going to teach me magic?” I'm suddenly unable to hide my excitement.
Caiseal remains stiff. His lips thinning as his low voice replies, “Not just magic but the history of our world too.”
My chin bounces. “Thank you. I’d like to know about that.”
“Alright lads, off with ye. Ye can start tomorrow after we set sail.”
I watch as the brothers push past Gus to get out of the door. Caiseal trails behind them.
I pick up my new pistol. It's cool in my hand and surprisingly light. Maybe I can get used to it after all... I glance up and meet the dark eyes of Caiseal who has paused in the doorway to look back at me.
Goosebumps erupt up and down my arms. Why does Caiseal remind me so much of those weird demons they used to have on the old Charmed reruns?
CHAPTER TEN
Breathing heavily, I block the blow of my aggressor’s sword.
My leather corset feels tight and uncomfortable in the heat of the afternoon. My lips tasting of salt from the sea spray.
I leap and twist, stabbing blindly behind me as my opponent swings again. His green eyes flash, his sword clanging against my own with a force that has me dropping my arm to my side. His blade swishes past my ear and lands, vibrating in the wood beside my boot.
I search the floor for anything that might have been cut off, my chest rising and falling as I catch my breath. I'm relieved to find nothing and I pat my head where my damp hair sticks, sweat dripping down my cheeks like rogue tears. Turning, I face Riley, who stands behind me, annoyed to see his forehead clean of droplets. I blow out a wave of air so that my flyaway hairs flutter out of my hot face.
“Have you given up?” I ask, unable to hold back my grin at the idea.
He laughs and the sound sends shivers all along my arms and legs. “Oh, not at all Miss Scarlet... But I can see that you have.” He grabs a neatly folded gre
y towel from beside a barrel and throws it towards me.
Grabbing hold of it I dab at my forehead, crinkling my nose. “If this is how you treat all the girls you meet then it’s a wonder that you get any at all.”
Stepping forward so that his hands grip the hilt of his sword he whispers into my ear, “but I don’t teach all the girls to sword fight.” He pulls and the sword comes away ringing.
I roll my eyes, compacting the plush towel into a ball as I walk to the edge of the ship. I look out to the endless expanse of sparkling ocean. This whole sailing thing is turning out to be pretty boring. The first week had flown by but by week three I’d discovered that the only thing that keeps me from going stir crazy are my lessons.
“Whatever. How am I supposed to learn anything when you’re not even giving me a chance?”
Dropping the towel beside my feet I tug at my corset and lean forward, breathing out of my mouth instead of my nose.
Fighting Riley is like running a marathon. I'm sure I won’t be able to move any of my limbs in a couple of hours.
“Oh Cris! Stop being such a sour loser.”
I tilt my chin so I can glare at him. “It’s not sour... It’s sore, which thanks to you I’m going to be plenty of.”
He flashes me his teeth and moves to lean beside me. I can smell my own body odour from working out in the midday heat, the ocean wind and Riley’s musk which is a mixture between brine and cherry Tobacco.
He drops his head to look me in the eye. “I could give you a massage?”
“Oh! Seriously Riley!” I groan, moving away from him I cross my arms over my chest. “I am trying to be serious here.”
Riley sighs and turns so that his back is towards the ocean.
“You asked me to practice with you. I was never ordered to help you.”
He's right. The Captain is the best swordsman on board and he's been training me. The problem is I seem to have an unsteady sense of balance. It could be that my sea legs aren’t very well adjusted, but whatever it is I don’t want to disappoint the Captain. Being taught by him is an honour. I don’t need to be a pirate to know that.
Riley lifts a brow. “You can’t deny that you keep pulling at your corset and breathing heavily. Not only am I doing you a favour by fighting you but I’m letting you rest occasionally too. In a real fight, you’d be dead by now.”
I drop my hands and huff. “I still don’t understand why I can’t go put on a t-shirt and jeans and learn in that.” I haven’t been this uncomfortable since I crash-landed on the concrete path of the harbour.
He lifts his sword so that it appears to cut his face in half.
“Ladies don’t wear t-shirts and jeans Cris, especially pirate ladies.”
“I don’t think there is such a thing...”
He drops his sword and stares over my shoulder, his brows knitting together.
“Well then you’re the first and you should make a good impression. Learning to fight in your pirate clothes will help you one day. Trust me.”
I recognize the look on Riley’s face. Whatever he's staring at he doesn’t like. I follow his gaze and groan inwardly. Kevin and Jerome are on the opposite side of the ship watching us. The original crew is made up of twelve pirates. Making me lucky number thirteen on an already overly superstitious ship. Riley and Jamie are the only members of the crew who tolerate me.
The rest keep to themselves, mostly, but not Kevin and Jerome. They make it a point to hover around me while I'm learning and they never ever speak directly to me. It's a little disheartening and I'm sure it's their plan to throw me off my game, especially when I'm sword fighting.
For the two weeks we've been at sea I've seen them lurking around every single one of my practical training sessions, but only once during my first shooting lesson. It turns out I have a good aim and a knack for pulling a trigger which I guess is something they don’t care to see me do well at.
Shaking my head, I perch myself next to Riley. “I’m sorry for complaining. I do appreciate you helping me.”
He doesn't reply instead; he watches the waves as they build and exhale against the sides of the ship. I listen to the ocean rumble, the wind occasionally interrupting the sound with its own white noise. My hand is hip distance from his. It seems as if there is always a distance between us, even when manoeuvring around each other in our cabin. If I get any closer to him or even brush his skin with my own, it feels weird, as if we are magnets repelling each other.
He turns, catching me staring at him. Instead of looking away his eyes graze over my face until I turn away, feeling self-conscious. I feel his fingers brush against my skin as he tucks a lock of my dark brown hair behind an ear. Looking up I blush. His eyes always catch me off guard. Their lime incredibly bright against my own mossy green irises. At the same time, his remind me a little of my cousin whose are a similar colour, only her pupils are diamond shaped.
Remembering her leaves me with an ache in my heart and a stabbing ghost pain in my hip where the scar from the bullet wound, she'd given me remains. Dawn hadn’t always been evil, at one point we’d been inseparable, attending the same pre-school and spending every weekend at each other’s homes. That was until Dawn had turned seven and my aunt and uncle had surprised her with the impromptu trip to England.
She'd squeezed me tightly just before they left for the airport, promising to bring me back a snow globe. She never had... Later, I’d found out that Dawn’s parents had sent her away, ashamed by their child with her demon eyes and ostracised by their church for birthing her. I don't know what had happened at Dawn’s boarding school, but whatever it was had changed her, so that her inside finally matched her eyes.
“That’s okay Cris. Just work on defending yourself better. Your blocking has improved but you can’t stab someone from behind you without turning to look at them.” He makes a show of inspecting the back of my head. “Unless you have eyes in the back of your head that is?”
Smacking him away I reply, “I know. The Captain tells me that all the time.” I sigh. “If only I could use my gun instead.”
Tilting my head, I look up at the billowing black and red sail and the mast it's attached to. There is a little nook at the top and I often watch Riley clamber up there with a looking glass. It's empty now. The entire deck is vacant except for Kevin and Jerome, but I know it will be bustling as soon as Riley and I depart.
“And when your gun is smacked from your hand or you run out of bullets? How will you defend yourself then?”
I groan. “Okay, okay. I get it. I’ll practice more.” “Dante and Colin will be thrilled,” I add sarcastically.
I'm still not sure how the brothers feel about me. I know they tolerate me because they are close to Riley, and the Captain ordered them to teach me, but that doesn't mean they like me. Sometimes being the only girl on board is incredibly lonely.
Riley stretches his arms up over his head and twists from side to side. “Speaking of the brothers I have somewhere to be... that’s if we are done here?”
“Ah yeah, sure,” I reply.
He moves his head in a half nod and walks away from me. I gulp as my solitude encapsulates me. When I'm busy I have little time to think about how my friends and family all think I'm dead. The moment I stop moving or talking I'm sucked into darkness I'm scared will one day suffocate me.
I push away from the edge of the ship, rubbing at my temples with my index fingers. I’d eat and then catch up on some reading. That's one sure way to ignore how I'm feeling. It's important I eat protein right after my workouts anyway so that my muscle doesn’t deteriorate. I step onto the winding stairs that lead down toward the kitchen and stumble as my flowing skirt whips around my legs aided by the force of sea winds.
I turn into the dull light of the room where a long silver aluminium table stretches. From the corner of my eye, I catch someone scuttling behind a door as it slams shut. I immediately know it's James. He still hides whenever he sees me coming. To this day I'm still not sure what he looks
like and can’t help imagining a stringy-haired hunchback.
The kitchen sink and surrounding counters are piled with dirty dishes and a thin layer of dust. It is progressively worse than the last time I'd seen it since pirates will never be clean no matter how much you badger them.
A dark-haired man called Elvin sits at the very end of the table eating something that looks like porridge. Caiseal is seated beside him reading a scroll which he's stretched out and laid flat with the help of a milk jug and a jam jar.
I am yet to learn how to actually do magic because he believes that since I'm not originally from the magical world I won’t be able to work it. From what he’s told me, magic is wild on Erthe and only a few can tame it. Others who aren’t magical creatures or tamers, like the Captain and most of the crew, have to resort to purchasing magical objects like potions and the Captain’s candle which is imbued with a base or tame magic.
Keenan, Jamie’s best friend, sits near the entrance to the kitchen. A newly opened bottle of rum resting beside his elbow as he puffs on a self-rolled cigarette.
“Finished ye lesson Miss Scarlet?” Caiseal says looking up from one of the scrolls.
“Yep and I’ll have you know that I am done for today, no more lessons” I reply sternly.
Despite the hollow feeling in my chest, I am actually eager to lie down on my bunk and get some reading done. It's the one thing I've always enjoyed and before we left, I'd bought two full brown paper bags of new books from Librairie Gréfine, a charming bookstore and the only one in La Rochelle stocking English books.
“Have it ye way lass,” he says pushing the milk jug and jam jar away from his scroll and rolling it up. “Pity though, I was planning on going over something you would like today.”
Pushing plates of dried food and cups of congealing liquid to the side to make space for a cutting board I pull a freshly baked loaf of bread from one of the two bread holders and start hacking slices from it.
“What did you want to teach me?”
“Oh, just about mermaids, since I know it interests ye.”
Time Torn Page 9
