A crick in my neck woke me sometime later. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was William standing in front of me.
“Have a good nap?” he asked, suppressing a laugh.
I frowned as I sat up and stretched.
“I can see,” he said with a teasing grin, “how waking up looking at this ugly face could make you frown.”
My frown deepened. “Why would you say such a thing?”
His smile was easy, all traces of his earlier pain and heartache gone as he motioned at his scarred features. “Look at me. I frighten children.”
I reached out and touched his face. My fingers wandered over the ridges of his scars, down the slope of his nose. He stood motionless, staring at me with the barest trace of the pain from earlier as the air around us seemed to come alive, making me want to close the distance between us.
“You’re very handsome,” I said softly.
“But—”
“Oh William, stop fishing for complements,” I teased. “I think you’re handsome, scars and all.”
He studied me for a minute, more serious than I’d ever thought him capable. “And I think you’re pretty.”
My hand—aged with spots, wrinkles, and knobby knuckles—looked ridiculous touching his face in such an intimate manner. I pulled my fingers away from his cheek and buried them in the folds of my skirt. He was looking at on old woman, not me. “I’m old enough to be your grandmother.”
“That doesn’t mean you aren’t pretty.”
“I’m pretty sure it does.”
He raised an eyebrow. “How’s it possible that you can find a scarred man attractive, but I can’t find an old woman pretty?”
“It’s different. That’s all.”
“How?”
He had me there. “It’s disgusting.”
“And some would say I’m disgusting.”
“Let’s not talk about this anymore. It’s ridiculous. You’re probably still feeling the effects of the medicine the doctor gave you.”
“This conversation isn’t over.”
I reached over and patted his hand. “Yes, it is.”
I stood, sorrow etching my soul, and gave him a kiss on the cheek right as the door flew open. The captain stared at us, his mouth hanging open.
“When I told you not to hurt him I didn't mean that you should swing the ship around and try to seduce him.”
Blushing furiously, I sat straight too quickly and felt at least one scab pull free.
“I wasn't—”
“I need to talk with my second in command. Get out.”
Using the wall for support, I struggled to my feet.
“Be more respectful, Clay,” William growled.
The captain rolled his eyes. “Of all the—”
“No, it's fine; I really should go,” I interrupted, suddenly more aware of the pain in my back and the fatigue in my body. I shuffled to the door, but the captain blocked my exit.
“Sheridan, I appreciate you taking care of my brother but there are some needs you're better off not meeting.”
“Shut up, Clayton!” William slapped the bed with his hand.
“Good night, William. I'll look in on you again soon,” I said.
I pushed past the captain into the corridor, and heard them arguing about me all the way down the hall. I’d never been happier to head to sickbay.
William had changed since he revealed his past to me. He seemed freer, quicker to smile. The captain allowed me to continue my ministrations to William, although never alone.
William would often catch my gaze and roll his eyes. “I think we might be the only married couple in history who is constantly chaperoned.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe we should give them something interesting to report to Clay?”
“Oh, hush.” I said with a laugh. “What kind of story are you in the mood for today?”
“How about an adventure story. It could take place on a pirate ship and have a dashing first officer.”
It was impossible not to laugh in his presence and made taking care of him something I looked forward to. The task of watching me fell alternately to Lafe and Thomas. Edmond often hovered outside in the corridor but never entered the room. I found this to be strange, but guessed Edmond felt awkward having been the one to deliver William’s wounds.
I was standing in sickbay assembling the items I needed to tend to William when Doc came in. I greeted him with a smile, gathered my supplies, and prepared to follow him to William’s room as usual, when I noticed the look on his face. My smile wilted. “Is something wrong?”
“There's no emergency, if that's what you mean. Things are just a little tense at the moment and the captain is in one of his moods again.”
“What's he upset about this time?”
“The morale on the ship has been sinking for a while, but these last few weeks it's gotten worse.”
“Really? Why?”
He frowned. “The ship sustained heavy damage during her battle with the navy. The captain decided to press forward and complete our mission without returning to port for repairs, and it's making the crew uneasy.”
I folded the clean linen strips in my hand. “Does this mission have anything to do with this treasure the captain talked about?”
“It has everything to do with it. Captain feels there's no time to be wasted and it's worth the risk to press forward and finish what we started before we head back for the mainland.”
That captured my attention. “The mainland? Doctor, where exactly is he taking us?”
“To the underworld, for all I know. He's either a genius or a crackpot fool who's wasting his time.”
I didn't like the sound of that, and I set my supplies onto the counter with a frown. “Where is the captain taking us?” The doctor hesitated, looking at me warily. “I've sworn a blood oath,” I reminded him. “It's safe to tell me.”
Doc puckered his lips and considered me. “What do you know about the Isle of Grey?”
I burst out laughing. “Is that where he's taking us? No wonder the crew thinks he's mad!”
“I'm glad you appreciate the problem.”
Some part of me thrilled at the idea of finding the island. And for a brief moment I imagined myself part of one of the adventure stories I used to read. I shook off that daydream and rooted myself back into reality.
“No one has found that island since Princess Dawn left it. And if the ship is as damaged as you say, what happens if a storm hits? We wouldn't survive the night with a hull pockmarked with cannon blasts.”
“Which is exactly what some of the crew have been muttering,” he affirmed.
I swallowed. “Is there fear of a mutiny? How is that even possible? I thought magic prevented it.”
“There are ways around everything. I hope it hasn't gotten that bad, but I'd bet the captain is concerned.” He removed a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his forehead. “Of course, the blood oath should protect him from that but still . . . it is better not to have to rely on magic.”
“Then why doesn't he just turn us around? Surely he isn't foolish enough to risk all of our lives to chase after stories. No ship has ever returned after looking for the island.”
“The captain feels certain that we can complete this journey and return to Castleport safely.”
I grimaced. “He feels certain? How could he possibly know? Can he control the ocean? Can he stop the clouds from raining? Can he truly do what no other vessel in over a thousand years has done?”
Doc shrugged and returned his handkerchief to his pocket. “Not any more than I can, but he does have something of a reputation for things falling his way.”
“William said something like that once, too,” I said. “But this isn't a situation that he has any control over; nature could turn at any moment.”
“When the captain puts his mind to something, things just seem to go his way. I've seen it happen so many times that I can't deny it. It defies all odds. If the captain wants us to comple
te our mission with fair seas, chances are that's exactly what will happen.”
My mouth hung slack in amazement. “You make it sound like magic, but that's not possible for a man.” Men couldn't perform magic, only women could. No one knew why; it was simply the way things were. The only babies born with magical ability were female, and even those were rare.
Doc nodded. “I’m not saying it is magic. I don’t know anything about that. What I do know is that the captain is the luckiest man I’ve ever met.” He returned the handkerchief to his pocket. “The men are loyal to the captain and they trust his judgment, but this is pushing their trust to the brink. If he's wrong, it'll cost them their lives.”
I did my best not to think about the captain’s ever-darkening mood. My back was mending nicely and my strength was returning as well. I felt especially cheerful at my return to health, not having appreciated it until it had been taken away. Everything seemed more vibrant to me, as if I could see things sharper and with finer detail than ever before.
I sat one evening by the window, enjoying a particularly beautiful sunset when the door burst open and the captain stormed in. “Your time has come, witch.”
My heart stopped and I imagined another whipping. My mouth went dry. “To do what?”
“We acquired the medallion, used the key to unlock the map—”
“Key? What key?”
He glared at my interruption. “We followed the map and it brought us here. Based on its information, we knew where to drop anchor to avoid the protective magical wall. Now it is up to you to get us through.”
My mouth went dry. I stared hard out the window, my pulse racing. He expected me to perform magic on command. “I’m not sure I can help you.”
The captain frowned. “I wasn’t asking.”
I cared nothing for their treasure and I wanted no part of it. But I knew I had to help them accomplish their goal in any way I could. If I didn’t, we could be out here forever, and I needed them to return to Castleport soon so I could take the medallion to the kingdom before my deadline.
I shuddered to help them but knew I had no real choice. Pearl needed me. “I will try,” I said, spinning away from the window and looking the captain squarely in the face. “I make no promises as to how effective I will be.”
“That's the best I could hope for, I suppose.” He grudgingly held out his hand for me to shake. “Since you agreed of your own free will, feel free to return to your quarters, but be on deck with the rest of the crew at first light. You are no longer a prisoner. Not that you really had a choice in the first place.” With that he swung the door open, gesturing for me to step out freely. He didn't wait for me to walk through it; he simply turned on his heel and walked away. Lafe stayed behind and smiled at me.
“Just like old times,” he joked, and I smiled too.
We walked through the corridors until I reached William's room. Yellow-toothed Joshua stood guard. My cheek twitched halfheartedly in an attempt to smile. William lay on his bed, reading a book, and when I met his eyes I had no trouble smiling for real.
“Another escape, or were you pardoned?” William asked, closing his book.
“I think it’s more of a parole. I’m glad to be free. Sickbay was starting to feel more like a true prison.” I sat next to him on the bed. My eyes wandered towards his window and something green and brown caught my eye. Intrigued, I stepped to the window to get a better look.
The water surrounding the ship had turned a pale and lustrous green, extending to a breathtakingly beautiful island in the distance.
I had seen illustrations of tropical islands in books at the palace, but it was nothing compared to the sight of one actually before my eyes. Old legends said the Emmías came from islands like this, and seeing it was like looking at a distant memory, something forgotten yet dancing tantalizingly on the edge of my mind. Its lush trees swayed in the tropical breeze, calling to me, and despite William’s watching eye, I couldn’t help but stare in undisguised delight.
Could it really be the Isle of Grey? Had the captain actually found it? Did the cure for the soil reside there?
I tore my gaze from the window to question William. “Do you believe as your brother does, that this is actually the Isle of Grey?”
“I have no doubt about it.”
“The Isle of Grey,” I repeated. “The birthplace of the first Emmía.”
“The very one.”
I grinned before I turned back and stared at the island. So many stories I’d heard over my life were about this magical island, yet I never once imagined I would be able to see it for myself. I squinted into the fading light as I continued to stare at it. The island looked exactly as I had pictured it, and as we sailed nearer, I could make out a faint lilac blur surrounding it.
The magical barrier. I glanced away from the island and looked at the rest of the sea. I rubbed my eyes. We were in a ship graveyard. The tops of masts rose from the depths of the seas, the stern of one ship bobbed on top the water. Some broken ships were blown to bits. Others were gutted with huge holes. Many still flew the kingdom’s colors. Is that what had happened to all of the vessels? Is this why none had returned? But if the kingdom knew where it was then why not keep trying?
“The kingdom must have had a fairly good idea of where the island lay,” I said.
William nodded. “It appears that way. And yet no ships returned. It looks like the barrier crippled them.”
“It protected the island.” I’m not sure where the word protected came from. I had meant to say surrounded, but somehow protected sounded right.
I looked back at the island. Even from this distance, I could make out individual trees blowing in the wind. It seemed so peaceful, but apparently the barrier destroyed any ship that tried to breach it. Had my medallion really brought us here?
I confronted William. “The medallion’s map . . . really led us here?”
“Yes.”
I pursed my lips. “How?”
“We used a key, one the Manacle doesn’t know exists. It was worn by Princess Dawn’s bodyguard and worked in conjunction with the medallion so she would always be able to find her way home.”
“And you found this key?”
“It found us.”
“So what happened when you used this key?”
“The medallion started glowing.”
“Glowing?”
“It scared Clay.” William chuckled. “He dropped it on the table and the map just sort of rose out of it. We managed to transcribe the image before it disappeared again.”
I frowned. “Did a piece of paper come out of it?”
“The map was made of light.” I shook my head, unable to picture it, and William smiled. “I know; I don't understand it either. But it worked.” He gestured to the window. “And unlike those other unlucky souls, we knew about the barrier and where to stop.”
I stared at the island again and my hand drifted towards where my medallion had hung. The whereabouts to this beautiful place had been hanging around my neck for years, concealed in my medallion, and I never knew it. Suddenly the stories James shared with me took on new meaning. If this was the Isle of Grey—and something inside me screamed that it was—then I had returned to the place of my ancestors, the Mylean people.
I opened the window and rested against the port casing, staring at the island. “Do you think we’ll be exposed to the plague that wiped out the last of the civilization?”
William shook his head. “That happened centuries ago, right after Princess Dawn left. The deadly vapors should be gone.”
I always thought it was so sad that the Mylean people had died so quickly after celebrating Princess Dawn’s wedding to the Orean prince, never getting to enjoy the riches they had received from Orea. It was lucky Princess Dawn left Mylea in time. If she had died with her people, our whole kingdom would have perished too.
I watched the waves breaking on the shore remembering the sad story of the fall of the Isle of Grey. “King Henare was
probably glad his daughter Dawn left the island. Otherwise she would have caught the illness that swept through the population. Her marriage to the Orean Prince saved her life.”
William suddenly coughed, his face growing red, his eyes watering. I patted him on the back, and he waved me away.
As I stared at the island, a light breeze caressed my cheek, carrying with it the lush scents of hot soil and ripe fruit. “Welcome, Jade,” it almost whispered. An inexplicable tingling shot through my arms and a new vitality seeped into my being, a sense of longing that pulled me toward the island. What was happening?
It had to be the island. I bit my lip thoughtfully and watched the swaying trees beyond the magical boundary. I’d come home.
Chapter 16
I bunched my pillow beneath my head and rolled over. Again. I angled my head so I could gaze out the porthole. There wasn’t enough moon to see the island, but with every breath I drank in its potent, exotic scent. It tickled the back of my throat and set off tingles of homesickness. Finally, I counted William’s slow and steady breaths until sleep claimed me.
Vivid dreams danced through my head. I walked on the island among its beautiful tropical flowers. Several blooms danced on the wind, calling to me, begging me to follow them, always just out of reach. Warm sand tickled my toes.
I walked up a hill, thick with vegetation, while wildlife jabbered in a chorus around me. Unlike the hypnotizing calls of the flowers, their cries grated on my eardrums.
I frowned; they were making it harder to hear the music of the flowers. Shrieking, hairy monkeys swung toward me. They twirled around me aggressively, circling closer and closer until two of them grabbed for my hands.
I spun away from them, giggling, before scooping up a handful of the intoxicating flowers. The petals rose in the air and sprouted vines that twisted into a circle, a wreath of living flowers. I grasped them and spun them. The music hit a dissonant note and I quickly turned the flowers the opposite direction, bringing back the chords of the beautiful ballad the flora hummed in my ears.
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