by Ashley Nixon
“If you knew, why didn’t you tell me?”
Jonathan was quiet for a moment. She could tell he was choosing his words carefully. He was hiding something.
“We all have reasons for our secrets, Larkin.” She was surprised by his answer—she expected him to talk his way around her question. Instead he was doing something worse, acknowledging that this was just the beginning.
“That’s not answering my question.”
“Enough questions will be answered once we’re in Silver Crest,” he said. “By then you’ll regret asking just one.”
Larkin didn’t like the sound of that. “Did Barren know? Is that why he targeted me?”
“I’m not certain what Barren knows about you,” said Jonathan. “My guess would be he merely saw you as an easy way to lure William to sea.”
Larkin grasped the rails of the ship until her knuckles were white. She didn’t like that at all, and it deepened her animosity toward Barren. He had also seen her as a way to get what he wanted, just something he could cast aside as soon as he was finished. Well, she wouldn’t be that easy to get rid of; she would make sure of that.
She could feel Jonathan’s gaze on her, and she glanced at him. Seeing his sympathetic stare made her blush. Now self-conscious, she released the rails, her fingers tight with pain.
“Get some sleep. We’re still a ways from Silver Crest and we haven’t reached the hardest part of the sea yet.”
Larkin reluctantly moved toward the captain’s cabin—Jonathan had given up his quarters earlier in the day, and though Larkin attempted to refuse, he would not hear of it. She was thankful for a bed. She had slept slumped over the night before and now her muscles were knotted.
As she approached the cabin, her eyes fell on Barren. His sleeping figure seemed to be lost in peaceful slumber, but as she got closer, she could tell he was having a nightmare. His brows were furrowed deeply and his jaw set tight. She was conscious that Jonathan was watching her, so she swept through the doors of the cabin as quickly as she could, taking in Barren’s pained expression. As she lay down to sleep, she decided one day she would ask him what he had been dreaming.
***
Sometime in the night, Larkin was startled out of her sleep by furious shouts. Her blankets were so warm and her sleep so deep, she thought she was back in her own bed in Maris, but reality hit her as she opened her eyes and remembered she was on a ship. She listened for a moment: rain tapped against the windows, feet pounded on the deck outside, and the ship itself moaned as it charged against the water. She guessed they were closer to Silver Crest.
Curious, she crawled out of bed and hurried outside, only to be met with chaos. The wind blew hard; the rain came down in horizontal sheets, falling upon her in waves of coldness. She was instantly drenched and chilled to the bone, but she couldn’t allow herself to go inside. The battle between the ship and the elements was too fascinating. Lightning flashed so often it was easy to see the men on deck running around, some securing weapons, others tangled in the sails, trying to collapse them before the wind ripped them from their place. The ship itself rose with the hectic waves, stumbling over the harshness of the Orient. Larkin suddenly wondered how it was so easy for pirates to love something this vicious.
“Lady Larkin! You should not be out here!”
She heard Jonathan’s voice from across the deck. She could see his outline, a rope in hand, trying to help the others with the sails. Larkin ignored him and turned to see Barren at the helm—his eyes dead set in front of him, as if he could peel back the darkness and see the route ahead. He had no aid of a map or compass, and it seemed like every slight turn of the wheel was an intuitive decision. Were these the skills of a pirate or a result of his half-Elf heritage? She stared out at the sea and in that moment, she could see beyond the curtain of water, into the churning ocean. It was dark and endless, but she had the sense that she was not in danger. She turned to look at Barren again—perhaps this was his thought?
His eyes met hers and she gripped the rail beneath her hands tighter as the sea thrashed about. Barren’s gaze was untouched by anger, and she found it hard to look away—water beaded off of him and his hair stuck to his face. He had shed his usual jacket in favor of a white shirt. The fabric clung to his body, muscles rippling beneath. He was fascinating, beautiful in a terrifying and rough way. Barren smirked and she looked away quickly, wondering what he had seen.
The ship lurched violently, and Larkin lost her balance near the rail. She tumbled over and screamed. It felt as if her heart was going to burst out of her chest even before she hit the water. When she did, fear froze her. She hadn’t had time to hold her breath, no time to close her mouth. Water filled her lungs, and she panicked. She moved her arms in tireless circles in an attempt to break the surface.
When she broke through, she gasped for air. “Someone help me!” she screamed. But who would help her? To leave the ship was asking for death, she thought helplessly. All around her was dark water, except for the violent flashes of lightning striking the sky. Her body ricocheted between the waves.
“Larkin!” she heard her name called and she cried out in reaction.
“I’m over here!” her voice was raw. She continued to move her arms to stay above the water, but she was tired. She could only do so much to keep her body afloat as the waves thrashed her about in nauseating circles. Another wave barreled toward her, and she was plunged into the water. This time, she wasn’t sure she could make it to the surface, though she fought with all her might. She moved her arms desperately, but they were like lead. She opened her eyes and closed them quickly. All was dark.
She had never imagined such a horrific way to die. Her lungs felt like they were going to burst, her chest ached; her heart beat so erratically, she was sure it would explode. What would happen to her body? Would she float away to some foreign shore? Would she ever be discovered? Would her father ever know that Barren had, indeed, not killed her?
It was time—she couldn’t hold her breath any longer, and the more she tried to return to the top, the more the waves resolutely pulled her down. She opened her lips and felt the bubbles escape her mouth…
Something brushed her fingers and then crushed them—her body was jerked forward into something hard, but…very much human. She was only half-conscious, but aware that at some point, she no longer felt the sea around her. She clung to her savior, resting her head on his shoulder, and then all went dark.
***
Her eyes flew open and she lurched to her side. Salt water spewed upon the deck, burning her throat and her lungs. She coughed violently, her entire body shaking. Then she collapsed, feeling light-headed as exhaustion consumed her. She drew in a haggard breath and didn’t want to move. She moaned when strong arms picked her up and carried her back into the cabin where she had slept. She leaned into the man, wanting the pain in her chest to go away.
“Can you stand?” Barren’s voice was low and strangely gentle. Larkin nodded her head, but when her feet touched the ground, she found that all she wanted to do was sleep. Barren’s arms wrapped around her again and he sighed. “You said you could stand.”
“I can…”
Barren didn’t let her go, even though she shoved against him weakly. Instead, he directed her to the bed. “Don’t go to sleep yet. You need to change or you’ll catch a cold, and Leaf doesn’t like healing colds.”
Larkin didn’t manage to stay upright for long. She landed against the covers, the soft folds welcomed sleep. Her throat hurt and she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and forget the frigid feeling within her. She still shook inside, consumed with the fear that she would die.
She watched as Barren moved somewhere in the darkness. For a moment he fumbled around, trying to locate something. It wasn’t until a candle’s warm glow filled the cabin that she knew what he had been looking for. Without glancing her way, the pirate moved toward a trunk in the corner and began sifting through clothes. He pulled out a white shirt and a pair
of brown pants.
“This is all I could find,” he said, laying the clothes next to her on the bed. Larkin looked up at him in the faded light. Her eyes still stung from the salt water. Barren observed her for a moment, his gaze heavy with worry.
“I...I didn’t think you would save me,” her voice rasped and she coughed. The pain brought tears to her eyes. She couldn’t understand why he would save her—he had a chance to be rid of his mistake.
Barren frowned, and though there was no hesitation in his eyes, Larkin knew he didn’t like what she had said. “If the sea had wanted you, I wouldn’t have been able to save you.”
Barren was about to leave when Larkin reached out and grabbed his hand. His skin was rough, and his fingers tense, but he didn’t move away. Larkin pulled herself into a sitting position and then stood to meet the pirate’s gaze.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Barren raised his brows, studying her for a moment; the flame of the candle flickered, reacting to the battle the ship still waged.
“Get some rest, Larkin,” his voice was barely a whisper. He stepped back, pulling his hand from hers.
With that, he was gone. Larkin managed to peel her wet clothes off her body, and shrugged into the dry ones Barren had found for her. Then she climbed into bed and closed her eyes, but whether from the fright of the night or the electric sensation present on her hand from Barren’s touch, she could not fall asleep. Dawn broke through the small round window before her eyes were heavy enough to send her into sleep.
“Lady Larkin, wake up,” the voice was soft and familiar, but not the one she had expected to hear. Her eyes opened into slits and her head pounded with fatigue. Jonathan’s face loomed above hers.
“What time is it?”
“It is late afternoon,” he replied. “Silver Crest is in our sight.”
She sat up, but the rush made her head spin and she fell back onto her pillow. Jonathan frowned and helped her into a sitting position.
“Last night must have been terrifying for you, Lady.”
Larkin was quiet for a moment. Yes, it had been terrifying. It was still terrifying. She looked down at herself, observing what she wore, and remembered Barren made her change out of her wet clothes—strangely considerate, she thought.
“Barren saved me,” her voice was low. She tried combing her fingers through her hair, but they got stuck in matted clumps of salt. “Why did he save me?”
An amused look crossed Jonathan’s face. “You think he would let you die?”
“I am more trouble to him than he wants,” she said. “What care has he if I die?”
“He has several reasons to care. But most importantly, if any harm does come to you, it would be a violation of our code of piracy. Barren would face marooning, even death.”
“So he keeps me alive out of fear of his own death?”
“Barren does not fear death. He honors the code because he’s loyal to the sea.”
“It doesn’t matter. I will be around so long as I prove valuable to him.” She recalled the conversation they had the night before, and it still angered her. “He is no better than William.”
“You see such terrible things in a very pained man,” observed Jonathan. “It might help for you to put aside what you’ve been told about him, and look at the man you’ve been presented with.”
Jonathan stood, but Larkin remained sitting, staring up at him, still wanting answers.
“There is nothing to put aside. Murder is murder…even I cannot forgive William for his sin.”
“Yes, murder is murder, but that boy saved your life. Do you think it was for his own gain? Indeed, if he were as ruthless as you say, he would have let the Orient take you. Trust me, it would have been easier.” His face was cold, and though it unnerved Larkin to see him angry, she still glared at him. She wasn’t used to Jonathan the pirate, and it still irked her that he defended Barren.
“How can you take his side after all that he has done?”
“After twenty-five attacks, Larkin, you would have to wonder why no one was trying to stop Barren.”
“We did try to stop him! We sent ships to meet him—”
“Do you know that for sure?” Jonathan raised a brow. “Or did your father and William tell you that? Or wait…perhaps the king?”
“What are you saying?”
“I am saying that one simple order from the king for William to sail out and meet his brother in battle might have silenced what you find so appalling about Barren.”
Larkin was quiet. She had never been sure if she liked King Tetherion. He seemed nice enough, the few times she had spoken with him, but there was always something about him that made her uneasy. Perhaps it was his relatives: they were all pirates. Or maybe it was his false ignorance when it came to Barren attacking ships off the coast of Maris. Even keeping those things in mind, she had never considered how involved the king was or should have been in the endeavors of his nephews. Now that she thought about it, why wasn’t he more conscious of what was going on? Or was he? Did he enjoy what was happening to his people?
“Come, we will be arriving soon. Leaf has prepared some medicine for you. It will make you feel better.” Jonathan held out his hand. Larkin took it and let him help her out of the cabin. The day seemed far too bright, even though it was late afternoon. She felt dizzy and nauseated, and she forced down the bile rising in her throat.
“There you are,” said Leaf.
He and Barren were above them, standing next to Sam at the helm. Barren’s features were perfectly cold. It was then Larkin realized Jonathan was still holding her hand, making sure she didn’t fall. Though she wasn’t sure what made Barren angry, his gaze made her feel self-conscious. She let go of Jonathan’s hand quickly and ascended the stairs leading to the helm.
“Gave us all a fright last night,” the Elf continued. He produced a cup filled with a warm liquid smelling of herbs and handed it to her.
“What is it and how did you make it warm?” asked Larkin suspicious of the drink. As far as she knew, there was no way to heat water in the middle of the ocean.
Leaf smirked. “The warmth comes from the herbs—it’s medicine. Drink it, it’s like tea.”
Larkin hesitated for a moment, but placed the cup to her lips and drank the mixture. She instantly felt warmth running through her veins, relaxing every pain and subduing her pounding headache.
“Amazing,” she said, still eyeing the drink with concern.
“You are very skeptical of Elvish things, even though you are one.” Leaf pressed a finger against his cheek and observed her with amusement.
Larkin touched her ears self-consciously and Leaf chuckled. “Oh, that’s not your only Elvish feature, Lady.”
And it wasn’t—as Leaf had observed before, her almond-shaped eyes and high cheekbones were signs of her heritage. “My mother was Elvish…” she said quietly.
“Barren’s mother was Elvish, too.”
Larkin knew that because William had the same pointed ears as she did. He never talked about his mother, and she never asked. She guessed she wasn’t used to having a mother to talk about, so it didn’t seem like something to mention. She wasn’t sure what prompted her to ask her next question.
“What was her name?” Larkin asked.
Barren shrugged, still refusing to look at her. “Her name was Sysara.”
“Do you miss her?”
To that, Barren didn’t respond immediately, and when he did, he just said, “I never knew her. I don’t need to chase another memory.”
There were few she found who had also lost their mother, and perhaps that’s what made her say what she did.
“My mother’s name was Kenna. Father says she was killed by pirates.”
Leaf looked perplexed and Barren even inclined his head toward them.
“Do you happen to know the name of the pirates responsible?” asked Leaf.
“No,” Larkin shook her head.
“Do you know if they are
dead?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Father never said,” then she narrowed her eyes. “Why? What do you know?”
“It’s just…more than likely we would know the name of your mother’s killer. It’s against the code for us to kill women or children, and those who do, hang.”
***
Silver Crest came into view. Gold lingered on the horizon, bathing the Orient in richness, and casting things in shadow. Larkin watched the island grow as they came closer. She wasn’t sure why, but her stomach formed knots and she wondered how the people there would react to her. Would they know her name? Everyone she had come into contact with seemed to know her, and she sort of resented it. Would they hate her because of her name? And would Barren protect her if they did?
Lights ignited in the distance and glimmered like welcoming beacons, awaiting the sunset. Larkin felt someone beside her. She glanced to her right and saw Barren. There was something commanding about his presence. She took a deliberate breath, her heartbeat speeding up as she watched him. His eyes were on Silver Crest too, and the air between them filled with apprehension. She wondered if he was hesitant to return to this place, or to speak with her.
“How do you feel about going to Silver Crest—the center of everything you hate?”
Larkin wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Did she hate everything piracy stood for? She had before Barren kidnapped her, but now she couldn’t be sure. This was freedom. “I don’t know how I feel.” Her voice sounded small and she cleared her throat, hating how uncertain she sounded.
“Jonathan would be more than happy to escort you back to Maris. In fact, I would prefer it. He will take you as a diplomat from Arcarum, as long as you swear to keep his secret.”
Larkin pressed her lips together. If anything, she should agree to this—she did not belong here, and to head into Silver Crest was probably a death sentence. Instead, she hated that he suggested she return to Maris, that he really hadn’t found her valuable.
