Pillars of Six

by St Clare, Kelly

  Even healed, Ebba was disturbed by how quickly she’d succumbed in comparison to the others.

  “Barrels,” she bellowed later that night. A day in bed was enough. As weary as her body was, Ebba was bored.

  Jagger rolled in his hammock, dislodging Pillage, who leaped off with a backward glare at her.

  “That’s for tryin’ to trip me this mornin’, ye fish-faced weasel. Ye ain’t got the dynami anymore,” she hissed after him. He was a traitor for choosing to sleep on Jagger over her, anyway—though Jagger’s chest was larger than hers, she supposed.

  A light wrinkle appeared between Jagger’s flaxen brows. When he didn’t look like he was waking, she bellowed for Barrels again. Her father was in his office, but tended not to hear a thing when adding numbers and whatnot.

  Jagger cracked his eyes open. She watched as he transitioned from disoriented to alert in seconds and sat bolt upright.

  He groaned and clutched his head, sinking back into the hammock. “What happened?” he croaked.

  “Oh, are ye awake then?” she said brightly. “We got away from Malice. We be back on Felicity.”

  Jagger smiled, appearing younger than she’d ever seen him. “Good,” he mumbled.

  He was going to fall asleep again. “Thank ye for savin’ me,” she said loudly.

  A silver eye slid toward her, the barest trace of black around the edges. “Ye tried to kill me.”

  Her cheeks heated. The air between them tightened. “I know. . . . I’m fierce sorry, Jagger. The taint took me in its hold, and I got some wicked ideas in my head, I’ll admit. Happened easier than I’d like. Probably because ye told them to cut the beads out o’ my hair?”

  He blinked.

  “What?” she asked.

  His mouth bobbed before he said, “I’ve never heard anyone speak o’ the taint so open-like.”

  It looked like he wasn’t going to own up to the bead thing. “Aye, I a’cidentally touched the purgium.” She gestured up to her hair, and Jagger’s eyes lifted and widened.

  His face dropped into a scowl. “Ye could’ve died, ye eejit.”

  “Aye.” She held back from telling him how much better she felt now. He’d spent two years on Malice. Didn’t seem fair to rub that in his face.

  He looked at the ceiling and muttered, “I’m sorry about yer beads, Viva.”

  Why did he just call her Viva? She wasn’t sure what to make of it. Wouldn’t put it past the pirate to be saying it just to mess with her head. Ebba stared at the post by her feet. “Maybe the beads were a scant bit foolish for someone my age.”

  “Nay, not foolish,” he said softly. “But they weren’t worth yer life.”

  That wasn’t how it felt to her, but he was right. Though Ebba was fairly certain he’d said her beads were stupid in the past. She swallowed the retort, considering she’d recently been ready to pull him under the water and drown him. “I really am sorry for tryin’ to kill ye.”

  Jagger closed his eyes, and the crackling air between them returned to normal. “Yer attempt was feeble at best. Hardly an attempt at all. Ye ain’t strong enough to kill me, only about the size o’ a child as ye are.”

  “I could kill ye if I really tried,” she countered. “And I ain’t child-sized. I’m just right.”

  He hummed, glancing down her body. “Not all o’ ye, I agree. And weren’t ye apologizin’?”

  Heat rose in her cheeks. “Aye, I was. But not anymore, ye dolt. Bloody would’ve deserved bein’ dead.”

  He grinned at the ceiling, and she eyed him askance. Was he riling her on purpose? He was!

  “Ye went a whole month down there and still seemed so. . . .” Ebba cleared her throat. “How did ye go that long, Jagger?”

  He gritted his teeth and didn’t answer for so long she nearly gave up on a reply.

  “I ain’t sure,” he said. “Some things helped. Sleepin’ up on deck or in the riggin’, not gettin’ cuts and scratches, seein’ the sun, feelin’ the spray o’ the water. Gave me more clarity or sumpin’. Down where ye were, it be a lot harder to recall the way things are.” He accompanied the words with an uneasy glance about the sleeping quarters.

  “If ye got injured, wouldn’t ye have been taken by the taint though?” she asked.

  “I never was, nay. Mine always healed up. Others weren’t so lucky, and they were killed when they stopped screamin’ so the rest o’ the crew weren’t infected faster.”

  Ebba shuddered, recalling when Caspian had stopped screaming on Pleo not so long ago. “Why kill them then? Wasn’t the whole point of the pillars bein’ in the ship to feed on the crew and grow stronger?”

  “I can’t speak for any o’ that,” Jagger said with a sigh. “Pockmark started talkin’ to the ship more and more in recent times. I figured there was sumpin’ dark he answered to, but I didn’t have a name for them. I always got the sense the ship was waitin’ for sumpin’—just from the odd thing Pockmark would mutter about.”

  She remembered the Earth Mother saying that the pillars’ power was untraceable. Had they remained weaker on purpose to escape her notice? “I s’pose when Verity came along with all her power, they didn’t have to hide anymore.”

  “Mayhaps, Viva. Mayhaps.”

  “I couldn’t have gone a month.” Ebba spoke her fear aloud. He’d lasted a month; Verity had lasted a month. If Ebba’s theory was correct, her fathers had lasted years in the presence of a much weaker taint. She was susceptible to the pillars’ darkness. If she was captured again, she’d succumb once more, just as easily.

  He opened his eyes with what appeared like colossal effort. “Some people don’t last a single day. Hardly anyone more than a week. Depends what memories ye’ve got to help ye and how healthy ye be, I guess. People without sumpin’ special helpin’ out don’t stand a chance,” he said.

  Ebba’s eyes flicked past him to Verity and what she’d said about putting all of her power into protecting her heart.

  “I’ve seen men three times yer size chucked in there and pulled out hours later, mind and soul gone to the taint,” Jagger added. “Ye ain’t weak. Ye’re about the smallest pirate I ever saw, but ye ain’t weak.”

  She blinked back the burning in her eyes. His words were more a statement than a compliment, but even healed of the taint, the horror of the pillars was still tangible. His words were the words she needed to hear. Ebba shifted to look at him. “Jagger, ye didn’t answer my question. How did ye go so long without becomin’ like everyone else?”

  He turned his head to her and then rolled away. “I don’t know. But it don’t matter from what I can tell.”

  “Why?” she pressed.

  His reply was low. “The taint be inside o’ me, Viva. I won’t ever be free o’ the dark.”

  Twelve

  Ebba stumbled out onto the deck sometime in the middle of the night. Most of her fathers were asleep, but one of them would be on deck, keeping an eye on Felicity. Probably Locks; he was captain of the month.

  “Ahoy,” Locks called softly.

  “Ahoy,” she replied, padding over to him, wrapped in Stubby’s holey woolen jersey.

  She perched on a barrel behind him. “Where are we?”

  “Tomorrow evenin’, we’ll reach the west point o’ Kentro. We’ll head back to our bay there for a bit in case Malice attempts to cut us off around the south side o’ the island. We’ll head back to Zol after a couple o’ weeks. Grubs said the selkies will escort us.”

  “We’ll take Jagger back to Zol?” Ebba asked in surprise.

  Locks swung the wheel left. “I don’t rightly know. What d’ye think on the matter?”

  That she was being invited to discuss it took a moment to process. She’d always just gone along with the will of the crew, voting where she had to, and voicing her occasional dissent. But in the room, Ebba recalled thinking that she needed to start asserting herself more. She chose her words with care, eventually saying, “He saved my life, but I’m never sure what his game be. He only acted the way h
e has to protect his family, but he was on that ship for a long time. Part o’ me be wary o’ what that could’ve done to him. We should get the measure o’ him while we be docked in our Kentro bay.”

  A glimmer of approval crossed Locks’ face. “A good notion, lass. We’ll do just that.” He paused. “What do ye know o’ how Verity came to be captured by Malice?”

  “I ain’t sure, matey. All she said was that she chose her path, and it was the only way to win.” Ebba frowned. “When we were at her place on Febribus, Verity said sumpin’ strange, though. I asked her if she had a message for ye, and she said there wasn’t no point now. . . . Do ye think she knew what would happen even back then?”

  Locks growled under his breath. “I’ll be findin’ out.”

  “Just . . . be careful with her, Locks,” Ebba said. “I wouldn’t have made it if not for her. She was the only other person down with me in the dark. She told me the pillars was takin’ her powers. Her eyes ain’t black, so they didn’t get all o’ her, but I think drainin’ her powers be how they became shadows again.”

  Locks sighed. “Guess we better get to work then, lass, so we can kill those pillar buggers.”

  She glanced up. “Ye want to fight them now?”

  “Aye. We’ll talk more when we arrive at Kentro safe and sound, but I doubt any o’ yer fathers will be against figurin’ this mess out.” His face twisted into savage lines. “No one, and I be repeatin’, no one hurts our daughter and gets away with it. We’ll make the pillars wish they never got out o’ that magic wall. And I’ll kill the lot o’ Pockmark’s crew with my bare hands afterward.”

  “The pillars were so strong, Locks. I didn’t even know they were takin’ over me. They just crept in and covered my thoughts.”

  His emerald eye blazed. “I’ll drag them to Davy Jones, if that’s what it takes. Ye have six fathers; we’ll each be draggin’ one down each.”

  Ebba smiled, grimacing at the pull on her dry lips.

  “Make no mistake,” Locks said in a hollow voice. “They’ll pay for what they did to ye.”

  Despite her decision to fight back, Ebba wrung her hands in her lap. She didn’t want any of her fathers near that ship. They were all battling their pasts already, and already carried the taint within them. What would the ship turn them into? And how fast? Simultaneously, part of her had to wonder if they always would have arrived here. The Earth Mother had spoken of their murky path like the crew’s destiny was set. What if the crew of Felicity had accepted their responsibilities after Pleo? Would Ebba have been caught on Kentro? Would any of that have happened?

  Ebba supposed knowing the answer to those questions didn’t really make a difference.

  Locks made a noise. “Do ye see that?”

  He squinted at the water ahead of the ship. Ebba leaped off the barrel and joined him at the wheel, peering into the night.

  “. . . Nay,” she replied. A tiny speck flickered. “Wait. Aye, I saw a light.”

  “Up the shrouds with ye,” Locks said urgently.

  Tying a knot in the bottom of Stubby’s jersey so the garment didn’t flap about, Ebba crossed to the nearest rigging and swung up onto the ship’s side. She climbed the lattice of rope squares to the crow’s nest only a tad slower than usual.

  Ebba swung into the nest. Her eyes took a moment to adjust after focusing on the rigging on the way up. She looked far into the distance to help the adjustment before scanning the ocean closer to their ship.

  A light flashed once, twice, three times. She waited, squinting as the light appeared again and repeated the three flashes.

  The intermittent sparks were almost like a. . . .

  Ebba whirled to look behind her and gasped at the lights back there flashing in the same odd sequence. The lights were a signal!

  Leaning over the side of the crow’s nest, she hollered, “Locks, we got company.”

  Her father wasted no time. Racing to the bilge door, he bellowed down for her fathers to wake.

  There was at least one ship in front of Felicity and maybe two ships behind. Judging from the lights flickering to life across the ships’ lengths, they were huge. Only one pirate ship that large existed, and they’d left Malice behind two days ago.

  If these ships weren’t Malice, then they belonged to the navy.

  Plank was the first to appear out the bilge door, then Grubby, and the others. Jagger stumbled out last, pale-faced and looking still mostly asleep.

  Ebba shouted down, “I think it be the navy, lads. There be two behind and one in front.”

  “How far?” Stubby shouted.

  It was hard to tell distance at sea at the best of times, but even harder at night. “We’ll easily outrun the two behind,” she called. “But we’ll have to get past the one in front for that.” Another light caught her eye from ahead. “Uh-oh, make that two in front.”

  Her fathers’ cursing floated up to her. She leaned over the edge of the crow’s nest to listen.

  “We need to turn inland and skim the shallows by the shore to get around the front ships,” Peg-leg said. “Felicity can sail far closer to the coast than the big navy ships. It be the only way past without gainin’ a hull full o’ cannon holes.”

  “They’re not far away. I’m not sure that we have time to get to the shallows,” Barrels said.

  Stubby spoke. “We’ve got to try. Or else Plank be right. We’ll be facing their cannons. Smart-like now, raise the topsail and the foresail!”

  That was her cue. Ebba clambered up to release the reef knots holding the furled topsail neatly against the boom. That done, she leaped back down into the crow’s nest and reached for the topsail sheet. She unwound the sheet from the belaying pin, dealing the rope out slowly until the topsail filled—not to bursting point, though. She looped the end around the belaying pin again.

  “Stay up there, little nymph,” Plank hollered. “We’ll be needin’ yer eyes.”

  She returned her vigil to the surrounding seas. Sally joined her in short measure, cobalt-blue eyes huge on her tiny face. The wind sprite disappeared beneath Ebba’s hair, clutching the sides of her neck.

  Ebba gripped the side of the crow’s nest, listening to the thuds and shouts of her fathers below as they raised the foresail and directed Felicity into Kentro’s shoreline. Barrels was right, they mightn’t have enough time to reach the shallows to evade the heavier navy ships. But her fathers had gotten them out of impossible situations before.

  And everyone knew what the alternative was. King Montcroix made no secret of it.

  Ebba kept an eye on the topsail though it didn’t really require attention. She was coiled for action. Her muscles were tensed, but there was no outlet as she was carried by Felicity closer to the shore. The ships ahead had altered in response to Felicity’s new trajectory. The two ships were angling closer to the shore, too, to cut them off. Unfortunately, the navy only had to get within cannon distance to force Felicity’s surrender.

  “We need another half an hour to reach waters shallow enough that they can’t follow,” Locks shouted, his frustration evident.

  Plank shook his head. “We don’t have that long. This wind ain’t doin’ us any favors.”

  Ebba’s heart thudded. She searched behind. The ships there had fallen back, though they never would’ve caught up. That wasn’t their purpose. Their purpose was to box Felicity in.

  She leaned over the side to watch as her fathers gathered in a huddle. Jagger lurked by the bilge door, head cocked to their group, clearly eavesdropping. After some minutes of terse nods and whispered words, they separated, faces grim.

  “Let’s get her ready then,” Stubby announced. “Barrels, make sure Pillage stays down in the hold.”

  Their group dispersed across the deck.

  Plank called up to her. “Take down the topsail, little nymph.”

  “Take it down? Why?” she demanded.

  “Aye, we ain’t outrunnin’ them today. We need to surrender, or we’ll be shark fodder in less than an ho
ur.”

  Ebba met his eyes. “Surrender Felicity?” That was the clear alternative to not reaching shallow waters and losing the navy vessels by sailing the Kentro coastline, but giving up their ship seemed implausible. Felicity wasn’t just a ship. She was their home.

  “Aye, little nymph,” he said hoarsely. “But better that than have her sink to the bottom o’ the seas.”

  Even he seemed unsure that was true.

  Stubby worked the sheets of the mainsail. “We need ye to stay up in the crow’s nest during whatever happens next, Ebba-Viva. Do ye understand?”

  No, she didn’t understand. “I ain’t leavin’ ye to be caught by the king’s men.”

  “We need ye safe,” Stubby called up. “Please promise us ye’ll stay up there? We can’t bear anythin’ more to happen to ye. We’ll handle this.”

  Ebba couldn’t bear if anything happened to them either. She’d known it from the first time they’d left her on Maltu, and again when they were locked in the gaol while she was taken to the governor’s mansion. Even after Ebba found they’d lied to her for seventeen years, she wasn’t able to tear herself away. On Maltu, before the war with Malice began, she’d made a mistake that pitched them into a danger that didn’t seem to have an end. One single slip, whether they were destined to be on this path or not, and she’d set her fathers on this course. If they’d failed Ladon’s riddles, they’d surely be dead and devoured by now. If Grubby wasn’t a selkie, they might all be colder than a mother-in-law’s kiss. If not for sheer luck and surviving by the skin of their teeth, everything could be over. Because of her. Ebba wouldn’t fail them again. Her fathers expected her to stay out of the fight, to leave them to their fate. They should know better by now. They had to stay together. Bad things happened when they didn’t. Ebba would hide here. For now. And then trail after the navy men. She’d save her fathers when the chance arose.

  Both sails were lowered, and Jagger heaved up the rigging toward her, dark smudges beneath his eyes. He passed her the white flag that the crew of Felicity had never had cause to use. Ebba took it and attached the flat to the mast, hoisting it halfway up.