by E Hall
“I didn’t notice that before,” he says, pressing to standing.
A blue shape glows, casting a shaft of light onto the map. The end of the beam illuminates brightly in the shape of one of the queen’s symbols. It looks almost like the top of a star but with multiple lines coming out of the bottom.
“I’ve seen those symbols there and thereǃ” He gets to his feet, spinning and pointing at the maps on the walls, each with a small symbol cut out of it.
“Glad to see the cookies did the trick,” I say with a laugh.
The muse’s symbols from the stained glass project in various shades of blues, greens, and purples onto the maps, highlighting each of the corresponding shapes. When I get closer to it, I realize they’re cut out of the canvas.
“The maps,” I whisper. “Of course.”
I count six, for each of the current muses, but the symbols’ placements don’t designate a particular location. There’s no X marks the spot where Mayra hangs out among the fae in the deserts of central Australia, Nia in the South American rainforests, or Halle chilling in South Asia with a fruity drink.
Corbin paces in front of the wall. His hand grips the back of his neck and tugs at the ends of his hair.
As the sun lowers in the sky, the light from the stained glass once more fades into pinpricks before disappearing altogether. In the meantime, I’ve made progress on the translation with an emphasis on the importance of reconvening the Court of Queens, but how I’d convince Lila to join them is almost more of a challenge than finding the others—on top of figuring out how to locate the scepter, jewel, and my best dragon friend. Plus, Isa is in a diary. This is a mess.
A chair scraping across the floor interrupts my groan of frustration. Corbin stands on top of it, pulling the maps from the wall. “I’ve got it. I figured it out.”
He clears the notes from the floor and wipes away the cookie crumbs. He lays down the map with the symbol of the first consort in the book The Nine Sisters. Then layers each of the other maps on top until all six are stacked. The cutouts of the symbols attributed to each of the muses form a constellation of the scepter with its staff and three tips.
“You are a genius,” I say, wrapping my arms around him. We topple onto the floor.
For a moment, my wolf begs for release but now isn’t the time to play-wrestle.
Corbin presses to sitting. “There has to be another map. Something is missing.” He paces a circle around the maps on the floor.
We scatter them around as we peruse the pages of notes, rereading much of what we’ve already covered.
“Greyson wouldn’t have led us this far, given us this much information, and then leave us clueless.” I restack the maps, drawing an invisible line connecting the symbols to form the scepter. The three prongs point at the wall.
My pulse thunders with wonder.
“The stained glass is also a map,” Corbin whispers, awestruck.
My skin chills with knowing.
“Greyson is a genius.”
“He made this his life’s work, but instead of spelling it out, in case the information fell into the wrong hands, he carefully left us a trail of crumbs so it fell into the right hands.”
I press my palm into Corbin’s squeezing tight and glad we’re on this journey together. Just when my energy was flagging, he brought me cookies. Just when he’s hit a low, we had a breakthrough.
He smiles and kisses me on the lips. I smile against his mouth, wishing we could do this forever.
In the following minutes, we do our best to orient the Jeep outside the house like we did last night to illuminate the window from behind.
We carefully lift the stack of maps and lay them over the stained glass. The placement of the symbols isn’t random. Halle’s symbol is located south of New Zealand and Demi’s appears to be north of the Red Sea. Corbin calls down each location to me while I plot their locations in the notebook.
The stained glass pointed us to the maps and then back to the stained glass that’s also a map. It’s layer upon layer.
We’re able to ascertain the potential locations of six of the queens, minus Lila and Isa, presumably left off because Dad knew they weren’t officially part of the Court.
“Okay, we know where they are,” Corbin says, exhaling after our efforts. “But not how we’ll physically get to them, convince them to help us, or—” He shrugs.
The rush of figuring out the locations dwindles with the reality of the big now what?
I thumb the pages of the notebook, containing the invaluable information we’ve learned so far. Pepper, ever brilliant, gave us a head start. I hope she’s okay. I smooth my fingers through my hair, pacing.
“You need fresh air,” Corbin says, ushering me toward the hallway.
He stokes the fire because it’s the only source of warmth in this house. Luckily, I have him. He runs hot like my own personal furnace.
We pass through the kitchen. Everything is tidy and dim. I catch a chill, wondering if Alister is in the vicinity.
Under the stars and upon the atlas in my mind, I plant a flag in Concordia, Scotland, Bahia Majia, and all the little spots in between where we’ve learned something that brings us closer to an answer.
The dale is quiet, still, dark. Thin clouds thread the sky above, hiding what little there is of the moon. Corbin wraps his arms around me against the chilly northern air. I breathe deep.
“Everything we’ve learned doesn’t necessarily bring us closer to what we’ve been looking for,” I say. “Indulge me here. I’m thinking out loud. Thinking about what we have, what we need, and what we want. How do we bridge the three?”
“I’ve never seen a three-part bridge.” Nuzzling the back of my head, I feel Corbin’s lips lift toward a teasing smile.
“Until a few months ago I’d never seen a fae, a shifter, or a ghost. My father is a common thread. He’s the one who can help.”
“And he’s a ghost pirate. I’m not sure wearing my Halloween costume and saying argh matey will win any favors.”
I tip my head back to meet his eyes, sparkling copper in the faint light. I’m not a fan of ghosts, considering the dream I had about the librarian when I was a kid. But I’m even less fond of the possibility that my fate doesn’t land with Corbin.
According to the book and sextant, revealing my future, I’m supposed to rule by the fae king’s side.
Chapter 24
Corbin
Kenna races back into the house, calling for Alister.
Thoughts about involving ghosts crawl along my spine.
Alister is relatively harmless, but the thing about ghosts is they’re powerful, yet unstable. If they have a mind to make you one of their own, they will, and there’s little to do about it.
I want to caution her, prepare her, but words of reason won’t reach her ears in time.
Alister hovers by the kitchen island, as misty and spectral as ever.
“We need your help,” Kenna says.
“Certainly, miss,” Alister replies in his genial way.
“You’ll help us? That was easier than I thought.”
“Yes, I’m the butler. I butle.”
With a slight laugh, she says, “And bake, I might add. But does your job description include giving us a crash course on ghost pirates and telling us where to find them?”
“This is insane,” I say. “We have to wait for daylight at least.”
She puts her hand on her hip and steps into a wide, resolute stance. “What if we don’t have that kind of time?”
“We’re putting ourselves in danger by seeking them out,” I say.
“Correction. We’re looking for my dad.” Kenna brightens like she had an idea. “And what if they can help us locate the queens. Likely, they’ve sailed all over the world.”
“Kenna, you heard what Clove said they do to fae...and wolf shifters.”
She’s not hearing it.
“Alister. We have to find my father. Last I saw him, he faded and disappeare
d. He said to break the curse. What can you tell us?”
“The ghost pirates have been patrolling the harbor east of here for weeks. I sense their proximity, their lure. They’re fond of all magicals, but especially ghosts even though we have little to trade. They’re always eager to add to their numbers.”
“Can they come on land?” Kenna asks.
“No, they’re forsaken to the sea. To an interminable life of searching. Nothing satisfies so they continue on and on...for eternity.” His tone is low, moaning, mournful.
“Do you think my father is among them?” Kenna asks.
“He was, but his location now is uncertain. Ghosts can sense other ghosts, but since the fight on the dale, he’s been lost to me.” Alister gazes straight ahead as though trying to remain stoic even though he’s loyal to Kenna’s father.
“What about the scepter? You found it once, any idea who has it? Clove said he traded it to a vampire.”
Alister’s stare wavers slightly. “That, I cannot say.”
“Because you don’t know?” Kenna asks as though interrogating him.
Alister flickers.
“Wait, don’t leave. I have a few more questions.”
“How about some muffins?” He floats toward the pantry.
“I’ve never been one to turn down sweets, but time isn’t on our side right now. We’ve taken too long translating dragon symbols. We’re searching for the scepter and the Wolf Jewel...and the fae queens.”
Kenna goes on to tell Alister about the key, the secret room, the chest, and the nonexistent puzzle cube containing the Wolf Jewel.
“Ah, yes. Some wolf shifters visited a long time ago. Found the cube. Took it with them. What became of it, I know not.”
“Wolf shifters? Are you sure? Wolves aren’t known for plundering or stealing. Well, at least wolves that belong to a pack.”
“A dusty bunch if you ask me,” Alister says with distaste.
My brow furrows. “It couldn’t have been my pack.”
“So we don’t know where the scepter is or the Wolf Stone, bringing us back to the Court of Queens. The best option we have is finding them and my father. The ghost pirates will have to do.”
I start to shake my head.
“Corbin, we need help.” Kenna bites her lip and worry swims in her eyes.
“Help in the form of undead ghosts intent on pitting wolf shifters against each other and enslaving fae?” I ask.
“Believe me if I thought there was a better way or if we had more time, I’d come up with something else. Remember I’m wolf shifter and fae, putting me at greater risk.”
“Which is exactly why I think it’s a bad idea.” My jaw ticks with irritation.
“I know you want to protect me, but there might not be me or you or the pack if we don’t act.”
My hands tighten into fists.
“I won’t give up, terrified or not.” Her chin trembles, but she stands tall.
“For the record—”
“I know. You fundamentally disagree with this plan. Duly noted. I’ll go with you or without you. If you want to stay here, by all means. You can continue to seek the gem and the scepter.” She turns to the spectral figure hovering in the kitchen. “Alister, where did you say we’d find the ghost pirate ship?” Kenna asks.
I grip the keys to the Jeep. “No way am I letting you go alone.”
The drive to the coast is completely silent. I try to figure out how to talk Kenna out of this. I imagine she tries to come up with convincing responses to my objections.
We pull into the harbor town a couple of hours before dawn. Kenna scans the horizon.
The stars and faint moonlight play off the water, winking. A smudge cuts across the surface. The prow of a boat appears and then the hull, two masts, and tattered sails. A chill unlike any I’ve ever felt runs across my skin before penetrating my bones.
Kenna points. “There. I see it. Do you?”
I let out a long-held breath.
“You can go back,” she whispers.
“I’m not leaving you.”
She spots a rowboat tied up in the shallows alongside the jetty, jutting out to the water. We scramble down the rocky shore. I push out to sea as waves crash against the rocks to our left.
“So what’s the plan?” I ask Kenna as I row, putting land behind us.
“Don’t get dead.”
“What a great idea,” I retort, not biting back sarcasm.
“As it is, you seem to know more about the ghost pirates than me. Anything I should avoid saying or doing? I don’t want to jinx us.”
“Stay on land?” I try. A cold gust of air catches in my throat. “The ghost pirates not only chill the air, but they also take up a lot of it. I suppose it’s a bit like being underwater. We’re almost there.”
A large wooden ship looms ahead of us with black paint worn by tide and gale to grimy gray patches. Splintered rails and sooty portholes are grim warnings to turn tail. The tattered sails billow and blow in the wind.
I blink my eyes a few times. Spectral figures move about the deck, their eyes hollow, wanting. It’s as though we’ve sailed back in time and entered a black and white photograph.
I slow my row as the atmosphere surrounding the ship cools, chilling whatever moisture exists in the air. My arms burn as I try to slice through water and space. My breath comes more slowly, but I press on and around to the stern of the ship then port side.
A narrow moon shines overhead, not casting us fully into shadow.
I shouldn’t be surprised to find out Kenna is fearless, while I’m practically quaking.
Kenna carefully gets to her feet and waves her arm for the pirates’ attention. “Hello,” she calls, her voice faint, almost brittle in the chill.
A mass of smudgy gray figures, muttering and moaning, moves to the deck rail. One pirate emerges from the fray wearing a tricorn cap and a jacket to his knees lined with tarnished brass buttons. In life, he must have been robust, but the light, now drained from his features, makes him appear gaunt, but not feeble.
“One thing I should’ve mentioned. Never tell them your real name,” I whisper.
“You say this now.” She grunts with irritation. Turning back to them, she calls, “We need your help.”
The ghost pirates surge toward us like wild, hungry animals.
The captain, I assume, holds his hands up. “Help?” He scoffs. “We give not a pittance for you.”
The tricorn cap balances atop an unruly mane of dark hair. His tone is dull and faraway as though nothing more than a wisp of smoke ties him to this existence. In his presence, little more tethers us to ours.
Kenna stiffens. “Nor we for you, captain. However, it’s a matter of life and death,” she says, as though skilled in the art of negotiating with ghost pirates.
“What business have ye here?” His empty eyes look through us, not focusing on our faces, but rather the space we inhabit, as though hungry for whatever makes us solid.
“We have something you might want, a trade as it were, but first, we’re seeking someone. A pirate in your service named Greyson Slade.”
The pirates are quiet for a long moment as though waiting to hear what the captain says.
“Down in the depths, I’m afraid.”
They hoot and whoop.
If this upsets Kenna, she doesn’t show it.
“Additionally, there are several fae we seek.” She doesn’t waver as she moves swiftly onto Plan B.
“Fae?” A chorus of haunted laughter surges across the deck. “We have plenty of them.”
“Not just any fae. We seek the Court of Queens,” Kenna says. Her voice is strong even against their numbers. “And we’re willing to make a trade.”
“We typically only trade in truths, but my men are hungry.” The captain looks down his nose at the two of us, vulnerable and floating, but a frayed rope ladder lowers.
We both hoist ourselves onto the deck. The legion of pirates falls in and out of focus like static o
n a late-night TV station.
“Who do we have here?” the captain asks.
“It doesn’t matter who we are. We’ve come for transport. If you can’t offer it, we’ll be leaving,” I say.
Their wicked laughter hints at the infrequency of demands or anyone disembarking from the ship, ever.
“You mentioned you have something to trade? Do tell the good Captain Crowbeard, lassie.”
Kenna eyes me and then says, “Yes, a fae, but not just any fae. She’s strong, fierce, one of a kind.”
My mouth goes dry. She’s using herself as collateral. She must think because the vampire within was killed, the fae can be too, but without consequences.
“And you’ll bring us to this special fae if we agree to make six stops to find six fae? Taking us to six seas, I presume. I don’t see how that’s fair,” he counters. “If you ask me, six fae seems more reasonable.” He chuckles. “And I like to think of myself as a reasonable sort of man.” Captain Crowbeard leans on the ship’s wheel as though waiting for her to up the offer.
The supernatural beings close in around us.
Their presence haunts me, gnaws at my fears, and thirsts after my apprehension. I’m left with nothing more or less than courage. I can no longer stall. It’s up to us to do this. We came all the way out here. There’s no going back intact unless we do whatever we can to find the fae.
“The fae I offer was meant to be queen. She escaped the king.”
The pirate captain’s eyes widen with unfettered desire at having a fae so valuable. “What do you say, crew?”
There’s a round of cheering, shouting, and cursing as the starved pirates endorse the idea.
“Then we have an agreement?” Kenna asks, extending her hand.
His lips twist into a snarl. “Pirates don’t shake. If you fail to follow through on your end, then the price is you. Never had a human girl on board before.”
His thunderous laughter knots my stomach, but I step forward anyway. “No,” I break in. “If she fails to deliver, take me.”
Kenna opens and then closes her mouth as though she’s going to argue but thinks better of it.
“The boy makes quite a generous offer. I prefer this pretty young thing, but we can always use another set of hands on board. If you cross us, we’ll take both of ye.”
