The Pirate Queen

by Candace Osmond

  The other one piped in then. “And the sea is no place for a lady, anyway.”

  I hopped down from my stool and took a few steps to their little table. “Lookie here,” I began and narrowed my eyes. “I know you’re going to see The Devil’s Heart. I heard you. That’s my ship. Those are my men. And I’d very much appreciate a ride home if you’d be so kind.” I stood straight and tried my best to hold a firm expression, but I was dying on the inside. If these men wouldn’t take me, I’d resort to smuggling myself aboard their ship if I had to.

  But, rather than the off-put, angry tone I expected in reply, their expressions turned solemn. “Oh, Miss,” the first man spoke. “Where have you been?”

  I tried to feign confusion but that long-forgotten feeling of an anvil hitting the bottom of my stomach nearly knocked me over. Their long faces told me bad news. “What do you mean?”

  “The Devil’s Heart sits at the bottom of the harbour,” he answered.

  My breathing quickened, and I wrestled with myself not to jump across the table and force the answers from his throat. I flexed my fingers before they balled themselves into tension-filled fists.

  “What happened?” I asked through gritted teeth and, when they appeared confused, I asked again, louder. “What happened?”

  Just as I was about to grab his shoulders and scream at the poor man for not telling me, a hand locked onto my arm and hauled me off toward the stairs. Lottie dragged me through the tavern to a backroom that was tucked behind and under the old wooden staircase and pushed me up against a wall.

  “I thought you said you didn’t have anything to do with The Burning Ghost?” she angrily accused.

  “I-I didn’t,” I replied. “I mean, I don’t.”

  “Then what are you doing asking about The Devil’s Heart?”

  “That’s my ship,” I told her honestly. “I got separated from my crew about a week or so ago and now I’m trying to find them.”

  “You,” Lottie scoffed, eyes wide, “a woman? Part of a crew? And the Devil’s crew, to boot?”

  I straightened my coat and held my chin high. “Yeah, so? What’s so hard to believe about that?”

  “A woman is a bad omen on the sea,” the barmaid explained and then smirked. “Unless her heaving breast adorns the bow.”

  My cheeks flushed with anger. “I’ll have you know that Captain Barrett and I were to be wed,” I half-lied. Truthfully, I never did accept Henry’s proposal. But I would have. I will, I added to myself. “Those men are my family. I’m just trying to get back to them.”

  Lottie appeared confused and scanned my face for dishonesty. “But–” she shook her head, “I don’t get it. Where have ya been? How do you not know?”

  The anvil felt heavier and cold as ice as my stomach clenched tightly. “Know what?”

  “Dianna,” she said, her voice suddenly soft, low, weighed down with pity. “The Devil’s Heart is gone.” Lottie took my hand in hers as my other grabbed at my chest, tears welling in my eyes. “And so is the crew. All of them. Singed to ash and sitting at the bottom of the harbour. Those men are probably going out there to see what they can scavenge from the ship.”

  The tears rose and poured out over my bottom lids, cascading down my face. My mouth opened to ask what I already knew the answer to. “W-who did it?”

  Lottie’s hand tightened around mine and her head tilted to one side. “The Burning Ghost.”

  Chapter Seven

  Ihad left a stunned Lottie downstairs as I retreated to my room. My emotions were holding on by a thread as I struggled to stick the old brass key in the hole. When I finally got in, I slammed the door and collapsed on the bed where the thin holds gave way and my emotions tore through. I let out a long wail of pain as my heart grieved for the loss all over again. Only, this time, it was worse. At least I’d had hope before, the small sliver of hope that Henry and the crew were at least alive. I’d been taken away from them, but at least they were alive.

  Or so I’d thought.

  Now, I’d found my way back to the past and I was stranded with nothing, no one to call my own. The cries were painful as they erupted from my body and I curled over in a ball to try and console myself, rocking back and forth, my arms wrapped tightly around my torso. But it didn’t work. I had to exorcise the pain from my body because I was too weak to hold on to it.

  All night I stayed like that, crumpled up in a sobbing ball on the bed. I had no idea how long it took me to fall asleep, but I finally did at some point. I awoke to a pounding on the door and the blinding, early morning sun. With great force, I peeled myself from the bed, realizing that I hadn’t even bothered to get under the blankets, and stumbled to the door. It opened with a loud creak and Lottie stood there with a tray of food.

  “Let me in,” she insisted, face stern.

  “Excuse me?”

  The barmaid rolled her eyes and entered the room, ducking under my arm that held the door. I shut the door and returned to my bed where I sat and cuddled a pillow to my chest. I watched as Lottie scanned the room, slowly taking in my scarce belongings before walking over and setting the tray down on the bed next to me.

  “You didn’t come down for breakfast,” she began. “And, after your breakdown–”

  “It wasn’t a breakdown,” I snipped.

  She pursed her lips and just stared at me.

  “Fine,” I gave in, “It was a slight breakdown, but you don’t know what happened.”

  Lottie smirked and turned her gaze to the window. “It appears that you don’t, either.” She then grabbed a date from the tray and pinched it between her fingers before tossing it in her mouth. “So, I’m willing to bet I know a bit more than you do.”

  I shook my head, confused. “Okay, what do you want?”

  She appeared offended. “Nothing.”

  I cocked my head to the side.

  “I truly want nothing from you, Dianna,” she insisted. “I’m just curious, is all. You show up here, you have ties to one of the most notorious ships around, yet… you know nothing of the recent events. Where have you been? What are you really doing here?”

  “I already told you,” I choked out in a whisper and gripped the pillow tighter. “The Devil’s Heart was my ship, my home. We had been spending some time in Cupers Cove when we were attacked by The Cobhams.” I stopped to suck in a deep breath. “I-I was taken away against my will. I only just found my way back.” It was the closest to the truth I could divulge.

  Lottie turned quiet as she seemed to digest my words. I picked at a piece of plain toast and sipped the tea she’d brought me while a strange, but comfortable silence hung in the air around us. I could hear the crashing of the waves not too far from the tavern, the bustling town roaming the streets and docks just outside the window and then looked her in the eye.

  “Can you tell me more about what happened?” I asked Lottie.

  She shrugged. “It’s hard to know what’s rumor and what’s true,” she began, “but I’d heard that The Cobhams seized the ship, tied the crew up, and set it ablaze.”

  “No survivors?”

  Her head hung as she diverted attention to the hem of her dirty apron. “No, none that I know of.”

  “And people are going to the site to scavenge the ship?”

  “Yes,” Lottie replied. “Apparently, The Cobhams took nothing, that it was an act of revenge. So, whatever treasure may have been aboard…”

  I nodded and leaned back against the headboard. “Would still be there.”

  I thought about the crew, tied together and left for dead as the ship burned around them. They must have been wishing for it to hurry up and sink, to stop the flames. The sound of their screams came to life in my mind. A lump formed in my throat and I forced it down. I couldn’t afford another breakdown, not in front of Lottie.

  “So, what’s your story?”

  She appeared confused. “What do you mean?”

  “Who are you? Where are you from? How long have you worked at The Slippery
Cod?” Lottie remained puzzled and I rolled my eyes. “Just distract me, please.”

  “Oh,” she replied with a nod. “Well, I don’t have much of a story. I grew up here in Harbour Grace. My father was a sailor. My parents are now dead. I’m not married. And I run this tavern for my uncle while he travels abroad.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “My life is quite dull, actually. I despise it. It’s terribly lonely.”

  “I know the feeling,” I blurted out. But I immediately regretted it. Lonely. That’s what I would forever be if I remained there in the past. But I had no sure way back to the future. I was stuck in limbo.

  “Y’know,” Lottie began, “you could stay here.”

  A surprising smile found its way to my face. “What do you mean?”

  “Here, in the tavern. I could rent you a room, long-term. Lord knows I could use the help around here, too.” She swallowed hard. “And the company.”

  I was touched. But I could never accept. I had to find a way back to the future, there was nothing there in the past for me. But I couldn’t leave just yet. Not without putting the men I love properly to rest. “Thank you. I’ll… think about it.”

  Lottie stood, straightened out her apron and poured me some more tea. “Well, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need.” She walked toward the door but paused before leaving, seeming to have more to say but decided against it and shut the door behind her.

  ***

  A short while later, I found myself wandering the beach, staring out at the sea. My feet took careful steps along the rocky shore as I wrapped my coat tightly across my torso and the cool misty air caressed my face. I felt lost. Not only in time, but in life. Henry was gone. Admitting those three words sent a pain unlike anything I’d ever experienced just searing through my body like a hot knife slicing into my flesh. I repeated it over and over in my mind, trying to make sense of it, willing my broken heart to believe it. Now, I was faced with a choice to stay or go home. I wondered if the sea would grant me another wish or if I were just lucky enough to get the one that was given to me. But I had asked to be taken back to Henry. I guess the laws of magic didn’t care whether he was alive or not.

  But it mattered to me.

  There was no place for me there in 1707 without Henry. I couldn’t possibly build a life for myself and our child there. At least back home I’d have Aunt Mary. I’d have a house. The answer seemed so simple. Go back. But why did I struggle to accept it?

  I did have one thing to do before I left. I had to find a place and bury the necklace Henry gave me. A final resting place for my beloved, for the man who took me prisoner and stole my heart, but gave me his in return. He deserved more than a watery grave at the bottom of the harbour. I pulled it up from inside my shirt and held the heavy ruby pendant on my palm, my other hand lovingly caressing my stomach.

  “We’ll say goodbye to Daddy,” I told the baby, “And then we’ll go back home. We’ll find a way.” I sat down on a large, wet rock, the water soaking into my pants. But I didn’t care. “One day, I’ll tell you all about my adventure and how I found your father. I’ll tell you what he was like, and how much he would have loved you.” I inhaled deeply, fighting back tears. “God, he would have loved you fiercely.”

  I could feel the pain and sorrow sitting heavily in my stomach, just waiting to be released. I let it out, let it seep from my body with a stream of loud wailing and cries toward the sea. I was heartbroken, but I was angry. Angry at the universe for letting me come back to an empty life. Angry at The Cobhams for taking everything from me, and that their vile blood flowed in my veins.

  I hated myself for it. So, I let it all out right there. I screamed until my throat became raw and my eyes burned dry. The ocean brought me there, and it would endure my pain. It would take it all. A pinkish-orange glow dimmed the sky before I peeled myself off that rock and headed back to The Slippery Cod.

  I opened the heavy front door and entered the quiet tavern, the supper rush had yet to begin. It felt as empty as I did on the inside, the only sounds were that of my footsteps echoing off the walls around me. I wanted to retreat to the privacy of my room before the locals started to pour in, but Lottie emerged from the back-kitchen area.

  “Christ, where have you been?” she asked me, a sense of urgency in her tone.

  I hugged myself tightly, hoping the evidence of my emotional purge wasn’t too clear on my face. “I went for a walk,” I told her. “Why, what’s wrong?”

  She reached into the front pocket of her apron and pulled out a piece of paper, a letter, and handed it to me. “I ran out this morning to grab supplies and found this tucked under your door.” I slowly took the letter from her hand before she added, “I, um, didn’t want anyone to find it so I–”

  “No, no, I get it,” I told Lottie. “Thank you.” I held the stained parchment in my hand and flipped it over to find it was sealed with wax and admired Lottie for not opening it.

  “Who could it be from?” she asked.

  I shook my head, eyes unblinking and unable to look away from the envelope. On the back, I found dirty fingerprints and rubbed my thumb over them. Who’s could they be? Aside from my crew, I knew no one from that time. No one who’d send me a letter. No one who’d know that I was staying at The Slippery Cod at that very moment.

  “I have no earthly idea.”

  “Well,” Lottie prompted and widened her eyes at the paper. “Are you gonna open it? I can go if you need some privacy.”

  She turned to leave but I grabbed her wrist. I was tired of being alone. “No, stay,” I replied and released her arm to slip my finger under the flap and break the wax seal. The paper unfolded to reveal a clumsy scrawl of blank ink and very few words.

  Traveller,

  The Docks. Twilight. Come alone.

  That was it. Just six little words. Yet, they struck a chord deep in my soul. Tears welled in my eyes as I read them over and over, wondering if Henry had written them. They addressed it to Traveller, careful not to say Time Traveller, Henry’s nickname for me. Only he, and those few who found themselves in the forest the night I accidentally broke the snow globe would even know to call me that. It had to be Henry. If anyone were to have survived that horrific night, it had to be him. Then a darker thought flickered across my mind.

  What if the letter was from Maria Cobham? What if she was luring me out, alone, to finish what she’d started?

  I swallowed hard and folded the letter before tucking it into my jacket pocket. It was a risk I was willing to take. I had a fifty-fifty chance that Henry would be waiting for me at the docks tonight. A sudden glimmer of hope sparked to life in my belly.

  “So,” Lottie whispered, “who’s it from?”

  “I’m not sure,” I told her. “It wasn’t signed. It just asked me to meet them at the docks by twilight.”

  “Shouldn’t be too hard to spot them, then,” she replied. “If it’s someone you know. The docks are cleared out by that time. Most of them hangin’ around here, drinking themselves silly. Be sure to take a weapon, just in case.”

  I grew more worried then. If Henry had escaped the Cobhams, he would never ask me to meet him out in the open like that. As much as I wanted it to be him waiting for me… part of me was scared of who I’d find.

  Chapter Eight

  To pass the time, I helped Lottie in the kitchen and set up the tavern to welcome the suppertime rush. She was a surprisingly good cook and I watched her with admiration as she made a massive pot of stew, working the room just like my mother had when I was a girl. All the while, I kept a careful watch on the sun, waiting for it to go down.

  Finally, when the sky became stained with a warm glow, I removed the apron Lottie had given me and headed out toward the docks. She was right. Only a few men still hung around, tending to their tiny boats, bustling together in small groups to chit chat about their day on the water. Other than that, the shoreline was quiet and empty aside from the swaying of the anchored ships.

  My eyes scanned the area
for a familiar figure but found no one. My pulse quickened the further I trailed along, worried for my safety and that of the baby’s. I could very well have been walking into a trap, but I realized, after I’d read the letter, a part of me truly knew that Henry was alive. He had to be. I just hoped it was him who’d sent the note.

  Just then, I heard the crunching of footsteps in the trees to my left and turned from the docks, heading towards the sounds, my grip tight on the hilt of my sheathed dagger. The footsteps grew closer, but I couldn’t see anyone, just the vague outline of something, someone, slowly making their way out of the woods.

  My heart wild with fear and anticipation, I called out to them, my mouth quivering. “Who’s there?”

  Finally, the person emerged and stopped at the treeline, the meager glow of the setting sun barely highlighting the shape of a man. An absurdly tall and broad man, his face cloaked in a black hood. Fear turned to delight, and my heart clawed from the inside, begging to get out and run to him.

  “Henry?” I called as I sprinted across the short distance.

  His hood flipped back to reveal a face. “Aye, lass,” a familiar voice spoke, “it’s good to see ye.”

  I stopped in my tracks to process what I was seeing. My poor heart plunged back into a dark pit. It wasn’t Henry. But a new feeling came alive in my chest. Joy. Happiness. My friend was alive.

  “Finn?” I cried and ran to him, falling into his open arms and nearly knocking us both down. “You’re alive? What are you doing here?”

  His massive arms held me tight, but he leaned back to look at my face. His warm grin shone through the thick red beard and his eyes sparkled with amusement. “Aye, I could ask ye the same. I watched ye get sucked into a bloody hole in the air, for Christ’s sake.”

  I laughed but my throat gurgled with a tearful choke. “How did you know I was here? Where I was?”

  “I heard whispers of some black-haired devil woman askin’ about the likes of our ship,” he told me. “Now, I only knows two black-haired devil women,” he paused to grin and arch a large red eyebrow at me, “but one of them would surely know the spot she let The Devil’s Heart sink.”