Peg-leg pulled back and kissed her forehead. “Then ye can believe me when I say there be no doubt in my mind that no matter who or what knocks ye down, ye’ll always pick yerself up again. Because ye’re our daughter and I be knowin’ just who ye are.”
Raising her chin, Ebba looked at his face. The twisted knot began to slowly loosen until she was able to take a fuller breath than she had in weeks.
“Better?” he asked her.
More tears spilled across her cheeks, but she nodded, a tremulous smile forming on her lips. “Aye, bit better,” Ebba whispered. She sniffed. “I just wonder why these things keep happenin’ to us, is all.”
Out of everyone in the realm, they were meant to shoulder these burdens. Right now, real heroes could be on this quest while she drank coconut milk and swung in a hammock on Zol, blissfully ignorant of any strife.
“It ain’t all bad,” Peg-leg said, pulling back to peer down at her.
She wiped her nose. “Feels like it sometimes.”
He glanced up and his face firmed. “Nay, I can’t agree with ye, lass. But . . . perhaps ye need remindin’.”
Peg-leg took hold of her hand and drew her with him to the port side, leaving the tangled rigging behind.
They reached the opposite bulwark, and he let her go, reaching up to grip the rigging.
Her mouth dried as she realized what he was doing.
Her father glanced back at her, a nervous edge to his words. “What do ye say, lass? I’ve always been more o’ a starboard rigger, but I’ll go up if ye stop cryin’.”
Ebba dashed an arm across her eyes as Peg-leg swung up onto the ship’s side and studied the intact rope lattice extending to the crow’s nest.
“Ye can do it,” she whispered to him.
He peered down, nodding. “I can.”
The work on Felicity stuttered to a halt as Peg-leg began to climb, relying on both arms and his sole leg. None of the sprites but Sally could know how monumental this moment was, and yet even they detected the change of atmosphere on deck.
Ebba’s heart rose into her mouth as her father pulled himself higher and higher up the squares of rope.
She knew exactly what he was feeling, the lurch of the rigging, the small cut and roughness of the ropes. A lump filled her throat, and Ebba didn’t feel any embarrassment as hot tears spilled over her cheeks.
“Go Peg-leg,” she called to him, clapping her hands as she cried.
Her other fathers joined her, Locks looping an arm about her shoulders.
They watched in silence, aside from the sounds of her happy tears as Peg-leg reached the first boom and shook out his arms. A sheen of sweat covered his brow. His tunic stuck to his back. But none of that compared to the joy on his face. A broad smile was there. His shoulders were drawn back to his full height.
Her father was happy.
An answering smile curved her lips as he continued to the next boom.
The entire crew, mortal and immortal, royal and pirate watched Peg-leg; watched as he passed the second boom, climbing to the shrouds for the first time since he’d been crushed and left in ruins. Their crewmate, a member of their family, was opening a door he’d slammed shut on himself in his lowest, darkest time.
By the time he reached the crow’s nest, by the sounds of it, not a dry face remained.
Her father swung himself into the nest and waved down at them, shouting wordlessly. He was on top of the world. And Ebba would move the realm itself to get her other fathers to the same place.
Peg-leg was right. Life wasn’t all bad. Not at all.
“Guess what?” she said to the others as Peg-leg continued hollering in the crow’s nest. “I’m goin’ to get my nose pierced once we’re finished savin’ the realm from evil.”
“No, ye ain’t,” Stubby immediately replied. The rest of her fathers had stilled.
Ebba turned to them, hands on hips. “I’m fierce, and I don’t take no for an answer.”
Twenty
The rest of the crew were attaching the ropes and sails, and Ebba sat against the bulwark in the bow. Sally had settled cross-legged on the tops of her bent knees.
Caspian sat beside Ebba. He’d placed the purgium to the side so he could also touch the scio and talk to the sprite queen.
“Sal? Were ye really on holiday? Is that why ye snuck onto our ship all those months ago?” Ebba asked, watching Pillage roll around on the deck in the sun by Caspian’s feet.
The sprite sighed and glanced away. “I’ve only recently come into my rule. My mother died just before you entered Syraness.”
Caspian and Ebba shared a look.
“Sal, I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be. I’m not. She never would’ve saved your crew in Syraness. She was a horrible, horrible person. Alas, while she ruled, I did not have to. When the time came, I’m afraid I decided running away was a better choice.”
“I can relate to that,” the prince said, rubbing the back of his head and disrupting the russet curls there. “Though I ran before my father died, I suppose. Then I just failed to keep the throne.”
“Leadership is no easy choice,” the queen said, shaking her head. “More so when there is no choice in it to begin with.”
Caspian hummed in agreement.
Ebba wasn’t entirely sure Sal was as uncaring about her mother’s death as she professed. Even if your parents were cruel brutes, it’d be hard not to care a smidgen over their death. Maybe that was why Sally had turned to the grog.
She poked Sally in the stomach. “So ye went on a massive bender and ditched yer minions for months on end?” She snorted again.
“Some of them are really irritating,” the sprite confessed. “I wasn’t ever allowed to have the friends I wanted. Only the most elite were accepted by my mother.” She turned to Ebba. “You were the first true friend I ever had.”
“Ye were my second friend,” Ebba said, thinking of Cosmo, a.k.a. Caspian.
Sally bent forward and bit her.
“Ouch, ye glowin’ excuse for a queen,” she roared.
The sprite threw her head back in laughter and waved several shocked sprites away.
Ebba joined her. “I’ll sure miss ye, Sal. It doesn’t feel right that ye’re goin’. Ye’re part o’ our crew.”
Sally nodded. “I believed my place was here, helping to search for the pieces. But I was wrong. I must do what I can to protect my people and ensure your return with the weapon is possible.”
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” Ebba confessed.
“Not unusual for you.”
She glared. “If I want to stop hearin’ ye, I just stop touchin’ the scio, aye?”
Caspian’s brows were lowered. “We wouldn’t have gotten away from Medusa without you, Queen Saliha. I worry about our success without your help.”
“He thinks ye’re stupid to go. He only wants you here for yer magic,” Ebba translated.
The prince sighed and she swatted his thigh, grinning.
The wind fluttered at the sprite’s hair, appearing to toy with the loose white strands affectionately. “I’m not really going,” she said when the breeze ebbed. “Do you remember what the Earth Mother said, Ebba?”
She thought about that. “Not really. Just that she killed bunnies when she was angry.”
The queen of sprites blew out a breath. “You recall far more than that, and I know it. Bloody pirates. She said eight were needed in the end. Not including Pillage, we had ten. The root of magic has a role for each of us, but I don’t believe mine is here.”
“We’ll still have nine when you leave though,” Caspian said, straightening. “What does that mean?”
“Nine and a little with Pillage.” Ebba corrected, glancing at the cat again, whose ears were twitching in response to hearing his name. “And I don’t think ye should listen to the Earth lady. She was a whole heap of unhelpful. Though she didn’t outright try to kill us like the thunderbird.”
Sally pursed her lips. �
��Papatuanuku is probably considered unhelpful by mortal standards, I agree. Most immortals are slaves to their nature. But when it comes to foretelling what beholds the realm, she has never erred. She’s just useless at doing anything about it.”
“So you’re really going?” the prince asked her.
Ebba blinked rapidly as moisture filled her eyes. “I’ll really miss ye.” Sally was part of their crew, and though some part of her had always understood the sprite would leave one day, Ebba hated that their group was about to split.
“I’ll miss you, too, Ebba-Viva Fairisles,” Sally said with a smile. “You’ll always have a friend in me.”
“Aye, and the same goes for you.” Ebba sniffed, adding, “Ye may not’ve been my first friend, but ye’ll always be my first pet.”
This time she was ready for Sally’s bite and batted her away, snickering.
The sprite resumed her seat. Ebba was certain that if they weren’t saying goodbye, Sally would be hanging her over the side of the ship.
“Will you be okay once you go back to your queendom? The pillars are close to Syraness,” Caspian said, amber eyes regarding the sprite intensely.
Sally sighed. “There will be a huge change, and I suppose we’ve got to fight off the six pillars before any of that can happen. Suffice to say, I’ve got work to do.” She rolled her shoulders back. “I’m just not afraid of it now.”
That was how Ebba felt, in a way. That she had so many problems to sort out, it was overwhelming. Except Ebba didn’t see herself fixing everything after the pillars were defeated. Instead, the constant feeling that time was running out reminded her their problems had to be solved before they could save the realm.
The prince replied, “Your subjects may not realize it to begin with—change is not comfortable for most—but they’ll thank you in time.”
“And you, Prince? Do you know what you’ll do with your kingdom?”
Caspian shrugged his shoulder. “I’m not sure I even have a kingdom. If I have any subjects left to rule at the end, then I suppose I must. Though, like you, I worry that the changes I want to make are too large for Exosia.”
The sprite echoed his previous words. “They’ll thank you in time.”
The two shared a glance and a smile. Ebba felt left out of this royal conversation.
“What changed yer mind to return?” Ebba asked.
Sally watched as the final rope was attached to the new boom, answering, “Jagger changed my mind.”
“Jagger? How? Because ye’re smitten by him?”
“She is?” Caspian asked, brows raised.
“I’m not smitten,” Sally scowled.
“Aye, ye are,” Ebba retorted. She raised her voice, fluttering her hands either side of her body like wings. “’Oh, ye want to destroy Ladon? Sure, I’ll come with ye. Ye tunic be off, Jagger, I’m goin’ to stare at yer muscles and blush. Ye’re so rugged and handsome.”
A shadow fell over her and Sally smirked widely.
“Viva, ye can stare whenever ye like,” Jagger said, his eyes dark as he looked down at her.
“I was being Sal,” she muttered to him, wiping at her face.
He sat and placed the veritas by his side before extending a finger to touch the scio. His arm rested on her thigh and she stared at the touch before deciding not to make an issue of it. The weather here was cooler, and it was nice to be wedged between two warm bodies, even if one of those warm bodies had spouted off a whole reel of truths involving herself not too long ago.
“You’re blushing,” Sally said to her.
Sodding. Pet.
“What about Jagger?” Caspian interrupted loudly.
“Aye,” Jagger rumbled beside Ebba. “What about me?”
Sally flushed.
“Well,” the sprite queen said, “when I went with you to defeat Ladon, I realized even if I hadn’t been born into rule, I would still choose this life—about the same time I flew us off the collapsing mountain.”
What was Jagger’s deal? How did he inspire such change within people without effort—or even caring? Ebba was going to understand him if it was the last thing she did.
Caspian mused, “Speaking of being born into things. You heard Medusa, right? She said there were three mortals to regulate the immortal leaders. We have to be the three watchers.”
“Aye,” Ebba and Jagger said together. She glared at him. “Get yer own aye.”
The pirate ignored her. “If I’m an immune, what does that make the pair o’ ye?”
They all turned to the sprite queen for the answer, who shrugged. “I don’t know. That happened before my time. I’m only one hundred and fifty years old.”
“One hundred and fifty?” Ebba said. “Shite, ye old bugger. Ye know Jagger only be fifteen, right?”
He corrected her. “Nearly twenty.”
“Fifteen going on twelve,” she haggled.
“You’ve never heard of the three watchers who locked away the six pillars?” Caspian asked, shifting closer to Ebba.
The sprite queen nodded. “All of magical kind have. I suspected there was more to your crew after hearing the Earth Mother on Pleo. And when the three of you touched, I knew there was far more to the three of you than I’d guessed. Everyone knows of the three heroes. You’re meant to keep this realm safe from darkness and maintain balance between mortal and immortal kinds. Beyond that, I don’t know anything of use, I’m afraid.”
“Were we all born into our roles, do ye think?” Ebba asked. If it was by birth, then Aroha, her birth mother, might know more.
The queen shook her head helplessly. “I’ll have my scholars check our records when I get back to my throne. I’m sure there will be more there that I’m unaware of. As I said, the last three watchers that immortal kind had contact with existed long before my birth.”
“You heard Medusa,” Caspian said. “Only we can assemble the weapon and take it apart. That’s something to go on.”
“We have almost nothing to go on,” Jagger said calmly.
Ebba shot him an exasperated look. “We know more than we knew a week ago—as much as I ain’t sure I want to be one o’ the three watchers at all.”
The pirate hummed. “Aye, I be guessin’ that’s true. And ye ain’t got a choice.”
“I know that,” she withered. Jagger was so infuriating sometimes.
Her fathers traipsed wearily toward them and fell to the deck with hearty groans.
“The boom be up,” Stubby said, sighing. “Felicity feels nearly right again.”
“I’m right glad to be here on Felicity instead o’ in that tunnel,” Grubby said, smiling his toothy grin.
“Ye can say that again,” Peg-leg said, rubbing his knee.
They listened dutifully as Grubby repeated the comment.
Jagger shifted his arm on her thigh, and Ebba saw Plank staring at the touch. Her father narrowed his gaze and nudged Stubby on his right and then Grubby on his left.
. . . Ebba wondered if Jagger was immune to being thrown overboard.
“Where to next then?” Jagger asked, watching her fathers and not removing his arm.
That was the question, wasn’t it? They had to keep going to save the realm. North, if they continued following the beam of light. Continuing on this path put that all at risk. Yet if she did nothing, their demise was assured. More and more, Ebba saw that without her people, the realm was nothing to her.
Stubby held up a hand. “Nay. Stop. I need one day o’ normal afore I talk about any more motherfishin’ magic. One day,” he begged. “My body ain’t young-like.”
“Aye,” Locks said. “I’m agreein’. We’ll sing shanties, drink grog, and tell stories tonight, and I’ll hear no plans to the otherwise.”
Grubby stood. “I’ll grab my flute.”
“Be a good fellow and grab my fiddle, too?” Barrels called after him.
“Sure, Barrels.”
Barrels looked back at them. “If I go down the bilge ladder, I’ll never make it back up.
”
“I feel ye, m’hearty. I feel ye,” Locks said, adjusting his eye patch.
Ebba watched her groaning fathers, sharing an amused glance with Caspian. She leaned into the prince as the temperature dropped with the sun’s descent.
Jagger muttered, “I’m headin’ up to the crow’s nest.”
“With my permi’sion, ye may,” she replied. She glanced to where he’d been sitting. “Wait.”
He turned back, hooking his thumbs in his belt. The dying rays of the sun illuminated him from behind. She’d always wondered at how the twilight turned his hair silver to match his ever-gleaming eyes.
“What did ye want, Viva?”
She was gaping at him like a flamin’ fish. “Uh, the sword. Ye need to take the veritas with ye, don’t ye?”
Surprise flickered across his high-boned features. He walked back and bent to pick up the sword. “I guess so.”
He was too close for comfort, but this was important. Ebba fixed her gaze on his and said firmly, “Well, I do know ye won’t always be needin’ it, even if ye do right now.”
Jagger blinked and wrenched back. He opened his mouth but lifted his eyes to peer past her at Caspian. His mouth snapped shut, and he spun away without a word, disappearing to the rigging with the veritas.
. . . Not entirely how she expected him to react. Then again, that pirate was as unpredictable as the thunderbird’s wings, so maybe that was him responding well.
Her fathers spoke among themselves, mainly complaints by the sounds of things. She kept quiet, chuckling as Stubby became steadily more horizontal on the deck. He’d never get up again without help.
Caspian whispered low in her ear. “Are you all right, Mistress Pirate? Truly? You have no idea how much I wanted to help you down in that lair.”
“Aye.” She laughed to hide her lingering embarrassment. “I was flopped all over ye. Sorry about that.”
His voice deepened. “I didn’t mind.”
No, he probably hadn’t. She inhaled deeply. “Ye know, Caspian. This mornin’ I was thinkin’ about what ye said. About how if I wanted to explore things with ye to let ye know.”
“I remember,” he said, mouth twitching.
Dynami’s Wrath Page 20
