“What?”
“That you’re a girl. And you’re with him?” He nods to the young gangly Bluff.
I smile, a blush forming on my cheeks. “Yes.”
He nods quickly like he knew it, he was just checking. “That means I’d have a chance then too. If you like him.”
I giggle at that. “I suppose so. If I weren’t already, ya know.”
“Do you love him?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re really young. That’s impressive.”
I shrug. “My father would already be trying to push me into marriage if I were still under his roof, so it doesn’t feel that impressive.”
“Did you run away?”
I nod, taking another sip of my rum. “It’s a long story though. He wasn’t a good man.”
“Oh! Yeah, I know what you mean. I have one of those too.”
“You did?”
“Well, my mom actually. She liked to beat me with a broom stick. Kinda got tired of the bruises, so I took a job on a ship. Captain Moore was kind to take me on.”
“He does seem like a nice man.”
“Sometimes,” Georgie nods.
I watch as Bluff takes a round, marching from one end of the ship to the other. The captain is at the helm, talking with another crewmember in a stiff woolen jacket. “I’ll be right back. Whatever you do, don’t go below deck. At all,” he tells me, and then heads below.
For a moment I wonder if he’s going to do something. Something he shouldn’t. The tension in his shoulders tells me something is bothering him. The comments from last night very well may still be on his mind.
But I know he’s wiser than that. He wouldn’t sacrifice our passage to the Sea Witch just out of an emotional reaction.
He still doesn’t seem to recognize that I can defend myself. But I let it go because I know he doesn’t like to be reminded of the magic in my veins.
He likes to pretend it never happened. He likes to pretend I am the one that needs protection, not the men around me.
Bluff comes back a few moments later with a few handfuls of some kind of hard bread. It’s hard to even bite into. “Cook said there’d be soup tomorrow. Tonight, this is all we’re getting.”
I don’t complain, but Georgie does. “Man, I hate this stuff. I don’t know how they expect us to live off this crusty hardtack.”
I shrug. “Better than some meals I’ve had.”
Bluff raises his eyebrows but then smiles. “Are you ready to head on up?” he asks me, his voice light.
“Yeah.” I say, “Thanks for everything, Georgie.”
“No! Thank you! Today was a much more interesting—and easy—day than I’ve had in a while.”
“We’ll talk again,” I promise.
Bluff
I’m not sure why, but Whitley’s friendship with the deck boy annoys me. Perhaps everything will annoy me today. The lack of food. How everything is going to be difficult now that she has a target on her back—even going to get grub was a chore. I only felt comfortable leaving her behind because the captain was on deck. And even then, I rushed in case something happened. This afternoon we’d talked about the incident, as he called it, and that’s when he suggested Crow’s nest duty.
He should be willing to stop an attack from happening, but I don’t trust him well enough to know for sure.
The way the deck kid looked at her was another source of annoyance, albeit an irrational one.
Whitley climbs up the rope ladder in front of me. I’m still the more skilled and experienced sailor, so it only makes sense I remain below her in case something happens. It only takes one slip.
She makes it to the top seamlessly, and soon the wind is whipping her suddenly free blond hair.
“Where’d your cap go?” I smirk.
She holds it out. “Don’t suppose I need it up here.”
“I suppose not.”
We spend the first hour just staring at the skyline, ya know, actually doing the duty of the crow’s nest—watching out for anything of importance. Other ships. Unexpected islands or reefs. Pirates.
Part of me almost wishes we’d come across pirates. So long as they weren’t Stede’s crew, I could almost certainly convince them to let us board and take us to N’orleans with much less gripe than we’re getting here. Ironic, I know. But with pirates, I know how to haggle, and my reputation precedes me.
Everyone wants to do Bluff a solid.
Although, perhaps that’s changed as the news spread that I’m on Stede’s hit-list.
Perhaps it is best we stay with the ignorant sailors.
Finally, Whitley rummages in her bag and pulls out a small bottle of brown liquid. My eyebrows rise. “Well look at you, becoming a pirate after all.”
She smiles. “Making friends can be quite handy.”
“Thank Georgie for me, next time you see him.”
“Very well.” She takes a long gulp with a wince. Still about half the reaction she gave her first time trying rum.
“Is it just me, or is this stuff getting better?”
“You grow accustomed to it after a while. Besides, sailor rum is often much better quality than pirate rum, so that helps.”
“Do I even want to know what’s in pirate rum versus sailor rum?” she laughs.
“Probably not.” I joke.
She lays her head on my shoulder as the sun sets and the stars begin to appear, one by one. But I’m so short her neck is twisted in a way that I can’t imagine is comfortable. I shift back into my usual form. She doesn’t react, just readjusts to my new height and sighs. “You know,” she says, light as a whisper, “I really wanted to kiss you that first night we spent in the crow’s nest.”
I chuckle. “You think I didn’t? I was so determined not to develop feelings for you, I conceived a way to kiss you, just once, without you knowing it.”
“Well, you failed at that, didn’t you?” she giggles heartily.
“I’m almost surprised you remember it.” My voice is weaker than I intended it. Sometimes, she feels so much like the old Whitley I forget what she is now. I forget that just a week ago she didn’t know who I was. Now, it’s hard to tell where she’s landed.
She takes in a long breath and we’re quiet for several long moments. “There are still gaps,” she says, turning so her lips are against my neck. “But Rosemera came up with a game. Actually, it’s really not a game. It was pretty miserable. But anyway, every night while we sailed to meet you, we’d drink and talk through the events that brought us here. Talking it through, and thinking specifically about all of those events and hearing other people’s versions of what they saw, helped me keep a grip on them and fill in a few of the gaps.”
“God, Rosemera is the best.”
Whitley blushes but doesn’t respond.
“Where did you leave off? In your game?”
“Knick tricking us and selling us to be a ransom for Rosemera. She hated that part.”
“I’m sure she did.” I laugh. “Well, let’s see. We spent a whole night roped to the mast, refusing to touch each other. You were mad at me for being an idiot and a jerk, and I was mad at you for something you hadn’t even done yet.”
“I didn’t even know about the prophecy, did I?”
“No, I don’t suppose you didn’t. I kept a lot from you.”
For several moments, the only sound is the wind blowing through the sails, and the waves gently cresting. “I know,” she says finally.
I squeeze her a little tighter. She looks up at me with those amazing eyes, and I lean down, pressing my lips to hers. The air is warm and the breeze is just cooling enough to make it a perfect night.
Whitley
I stand at the tip of the ship watching the hull carve through the waves. We’ve been on this ship for a few days already, and other than that one—unfortunate—conversation, it has been smooth sailing. We’ve already passed by the Florida peninsula and begun sailing west into the gulf.
The water makes way for
us, parting then lapping the sides and blending back together seamlessly behind. In only minutes, you can’t tell we were ever here.
No one will ever know. My heart aches at that thought. As much as we’re supposed to be hidden, supposed to blend in, I want to be remembered. Not this moment in particular, but my life. Me.
I don’t want to be forgotten. I don’t want to forget.
I wonder if I already have. Who am I? Have I ever really known?
I know, the wind whispers in my ear.
My heart stops. I blink, looking around, then down at the waves, and panic rises in my chest. The voice was like a shift of power. Could it have been sirens? Are they here?
“Know what?” I whisper into the wind. There is nothing in the waves that signifies the presence of sirens. No discolorations. No shadows. No strange swirls or patterns in the waters. No music.
You.
What does that mean? I spin around, looking for the source, but there is nothing out of the ordinary on deck either. Just a few sailors hustling here and there, paying no attention to me or the whispers in the wind. The captain is at the helm chatting with a large man with a beard. A man who causes my stomach to sink. My magic stirs in anger. I blink and turn away quickly.
“Who are you?” I whisper to the voice.
Come to me, he says. Find me. I’ll show you truth. The voice is hypnotic, pulling my soul towards the water. I lean forward as the wind swirls around my body, twisting, pulling me farther.
A hand grabs me by the upper arm, and I blink back to reality.
“What are you doing?” Bluff says through gritted teeth.
I swallow and blink, looking around. I... don’t know.
Bluff stares into my shocked eyes and his expression softens. “Are they here?” he asks, his voice breaking. There is a spark of fear in his eyes, but mostly, there is pain.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
His eyebrows pull down. He looks over the railing. “You were going to leave, weren’t you?” His chest rises and falls quicker than it should, and my stomach sinks.
“No!” I say quickly. “I was...” But I don’t even know. Something felt hypnotic. That’s all I know.
He waits, studying my face.
“Have you ever heard a voice in the wind? I don’t think it was a siren’s magic but something...else.”
He purses his lips and looks past me to the horizon. “You’re saying something was calling you, that wasn’t my mother?”
I nod. “I think so.”
He rubs his chins. “Well that’s fantastic.”
“What?”
“If it’s true, it means another enemy. That’s just what we need.”
I bite my lip, thinking about that feeling. It didn’t feel bad. “Are you sure it was an enemy? Couldn’t it be an ally?”
“Don’t be so naive, Whitley.”
I wince, but he doesn’t seem to notice, his grip is still tight over my upper arm. “Anything that’s calling you to the water is bad. Very, very bad.”
I suppose. But, still, something about this voice was...paternal? Caring.
“Stay away from the rails, all right?” he tells me without looking me in the eye.
Anger rises in my chest. Annoyed at another restriction.
“First you command me not to go below deck, to protect the shitty crew in case they decide to attack me. Now, I can’t go near the water, in case I’m too naïve to tell the difference between friend and foe. What else would you like to stop me from doing? What exactly can I do, Bluff?” Anger rises in my chest as I speak. I don’t know if I’m being fair, but I’m so tired of feeling helpless.
I love Bluff because of the freedom he’s given me. The faith he put in me and now he’s trapping me in stupid rules. This is unfair, and he knows it.
He pauses, searching my face, anger and caution swirling in his eyes. He steps forward, closing the gap between us, his muscles still tense. “We only have one more day, Whitley.” He presses his eyes shut. “I don’t want to lose you.” His voice is pained as he speaks. “I’ve seen it before. And I’m terrified of the day it happens again. I don’t trust anything in that water. I don’t trust anything that wants you.”
I bite the inside of my lip.
“I’m sorry if I’m being overbearing. I’m just trying to keep us safe,” he says.
I huff out a breath, attempting to release some of my own tension. I’m not sure it works. “Fine, but I need you to trust me too.”
“I do trust you,” he says, as he looks past me.
“Do you?” I ask, honestly. Waiting, hoping he’ll meet my eye.
He doesn’t. He nods, still looking off into the distance behind me.
My stomach sinks.
Bluff
My eyes don’t close that night. I stare up at the sky, the stars scattering across a deep black expanse winking at me. Are you waiting for me to fail too? I wonder.
I don’t look forward to the day. Or any day. I only look forward to getting closer to the end. The sooner I get to the witch, the sooner I’ll be able to formulate a plan. Or least know if a plan is even possible.
Can I save her?
I’ll always love her.
I won’t give up on her. But God, does it hurt. Every second, knowing there’s a creature inside of her that I cannot fight. That I cannot stop.
A creature she may love more than she loves me.
I CLIMB DOWN, LEAVING behind a curled-up Whitley, and head to the main deck. No one speaks to me as I walk across the deck. Apparently, I’ve been too grumpy and sullen to make friends on this trip. That’s unlike me, to be honest. But then, the one time we did attempt to blend into the crew, we played a game of dice which turned into a threat on Whitley.
I head below deck in search of more food. Some of that promised soup very well may help to lift my spirits. Just to have something warm and substantial.
We are getting close to our destination now, though. Which eases the pressure on my chest slightly. We’ve reached the mouth of the Mississippi, so the rest of our trip will be up river. Farther and farther from the salt water of the ocean.
I hope this means siren magic will grow weaker and weaker, but I will not rely on any such assumptions. This river is massive, though, so it’ll still be almost a full day’s sailing to finally reach our destination.
I head into the galley in search of the cook, who is possibly the only person on this ship I’ve had pleasant conversations with. Surprising. In my experience, cooks have been the grumpiest of all the crew. Their bellies are bigger, but their patience slimmer. Comes with the territory of being the most pestered. Every soul aboard badgers the cook daily for something to eat. And on days when not much is available, they are not always friendly.
This cook seems to appreciate every friendly moment he can get.
“Anything good today?” I ask him
A chubby white-haired man with plump red cheeks smiles. “There’s my boy. Where’s that girl of yours been hiding?”
“Anywhere but here,” I say quietly.
“Can’t hide her forever, ya know?”
I smile. That’s exactly what I’m planning on doing. “We’re docking later tonight. If you want to meet her, you’ll have to come find us.”
He chuckles.
“What do you have for us today?” I ask him.
“Nothing good. Won’t be getting anything of substance until we dock today.”
I wrinkle my nose. “What happened to the soup you’d promised.”
He shrugs, a compassionate expression on his face. “Came a bit late for that treat, lad.”
I sigh. Another thing to sacrifice thanks to our cranky friend Thomas.
“You come back aboard and I’ll have something special for you.”
I smile. “That’d be nice.” Both of us know that won’t be happening. The captain wouldn’t want us back aboard even if we did plan to reboard. “Anything to hold us over in the mean time?”
He eyes
me down. “For you?” He purses his lips and then tosses a larger than usual roll of bread at my head.
I barely grab the loaf from the air before it whacks me good. “Still feels soft!” I say excitedly.
He smiles.
“Thank you, cook!”
“Take care of that girl, yeah?”
I nod and then scamper off to find her.
Whitley
I wake to find myself alone and immediately head down to find Bluff. I stretch once my feet hit the main deck. The sun beats down on me.
Georgie is the far end of the ship, and I rush over to greet him before searching for Bluff.
“Hey!” Georgie calls out, standing up straight from his scrubbing. “Where’s your friend?”
I sigh. “Not sure. He must have gone down to find something to eat.”
“Without you? That doesn’t seem fair.”
I shrug. “He doesn’t want me going below. Says it isn’t safe.”
“You kidding? This crew wouldn’t hurt anyone. Promise. I’ll go with you and keep you safe. Cook will give us more if we all go down. He likes me.” Georgie smiles sincerely.
I suppose that shouldn’t be a problem. I want to go anyway.
Georgie leads me below deck into the stuffy, dim storage areas and down a hall towards the galley.
We pass the crew’s quarters and I peer inside as we pass. “There she is,” a deep voice says, and I jump then stop to face Thomas as he meets us in the hall.
“Just when I thought I was going to have to go looking for you, you come to me.” He winks. His broad shoulders bounce as he laughs. There’s a glint in his eyes that causes a rush of magic to tingle through my veins.
“Hey, Thomas,” Georgie says, with a small voice. Nervous and unsure.
“You should run along, kid. Don’t need you getting hurt.”
“Wh-why would I get hurt?”
My stomach clenches. A mix of anxiety and eagerness. Come and get me, my eyes tell the man.
“Because he intends to hurt me,” I say in a flat voice.
Thomas raises and eyebrow. “I wasn’t going to touch you. I just like to give kids a hard time.”
Treacherous Love Page 8
