by Ashley Nixon
“You did not ask me if that is what I want,” she said, her voice shook a little.
“Do you know what you want?” It wasn’t about knowing what she wanted; it was about knowing what was right and what was wrong. If given the choice, she should go back to Maris. That was the right choice. She heard Barren sigh impatiently. “I will ask that you decide before I let you see Silver Crest. Once you enter…the way you view the Orient will change.”
She wondered if he was joking with her. She stared, captivated by his gaze. There was something missing—his eyes were sort of lack-luster, not bright and passionate like they usually were when he was kidding. She found herself wondering what it would take to bring that look back.
“I will go with you to Silver Crest,” she said quickly, stopping her thoughts from exploring the subject further. Barren raised his brows in surprise, and the corners of his lips turned upward in amusement. He probably thought she was making a bad decision—one that would be entertaining to him, but there were too many things Larkin had been told and had seen now; she wouldn’t allow herself to ignore them. While William and her father kept things from her, Barren was offering answers and she wanted them.
“Then I will ask you to put aside your prejudice because what you see and hear will shock you.”
Larkin gave him a hard look; he was trying to frighten her. She looked away from him, watching Silver Crest as the lights grew bigger and brighter. She wished she knew what she was getting into, but part of her was excited about this new adventure.
“Jonathan said something…that you are loyal to a code…of piracy?” She emphasized the last word, like she didn’t expect the thing to be real.
“You laugh, but we went to battle for our code, and we believe in it strongly.” Barren said. “All pirates of Silver Crest abide by a code set forth by our elders. Our agreement is binding and set in ink over our hearts.”
“And this is enforced?”
“Yes, strictly. If anyone is found to have hidden an offense, that is also punishable.”
“But how would they know if it wasn’t followed? You could easily lie.”
Barren laughed. “Yes, you could easily lie…but the Orient does not lie. It seems that bad luck follows those who breach the code. If they are not punished by those who enforce the code, the sea will have her way with them.”
“It’s surprising—that you would have your own code when you do your best to ignore the laws set forth by the king.”
“It’s only surprising because you think we choose to sail the sea based on a wish to do evil. Do not judge other pirates by what I have done. Most are not murderers—thieves, yes, but assigning them a terrible sin because of my infamy is wrong.”
“And why do they thieve?” she challenged.
“Because other options are far less appealing. Being a peasant means you work hard to see the rich thrive. Being a solider to the king binds us to be enslaved—which is against the very nature of a pirate.”
“Your nature? What is your nature?”
“To protect a basic right, freedom—Saoirse.”
“Saoirse? That’s what you swear by.”
“What is more binding than a pirate swearing by his freedom?”
Larkin pressed her lips together. “You act as if King Tetherion hasn’t been good to his subjects.”
“You mean the ones in the castle?” Barren questioned quickly, sarcastically. “Or maybe the ones who own land? The statesmen in Arcarum? What about the poor? The traders? Has the king allowed them the right to climb your caste system? I don’t think so. Monarchy is a ridiculous tool. What in this world gives one mortal man the right to rule over another? Our blood is no different.”
“Yes, but we share this world with others, not just mortal men. Others who have magic and would wish to destroy us with it.”
“Who?” Barren questioned with a raised brow. “Yes, there is magic in this world, but it is not a force that can be easily wielded.”
“As far as we know. There has always been a fear that someone would figure out how to harness the magic in this world, Barren Reed. The Elves know those secrets. Don’t let them fool you.”
“The Elves do know those secrets,” Leaf’s voice rose from behind them and caused Larkin to twist on her heels. She met the Elf’s severe gaze. She had forgotten he could hear everything within a two-mile radius. “Or rather, one Elf, the King of Aurum, Lord Alder. He’s also very aware of the harm magic can do. Do you question his wisdom, Lady?”
Larkin couldn’t say yes or no—she didn’t know Lord Alder, but he didn’t seem all that civil. He kept to his own territory and never mingled with humans.
Barren chuckled, and she turned her gaze to him. “Before you speak ill of the Elves, perhaps it is best to remember their prince sails with my crew.”
***
Silver Crest didn’t try to hide very much from the view of outsiders. The coastline was crowded with several ships. The skyline was dotted with flags of all natures, representing each ship. Some were white, some were black, others bore a skull and crossbones, and some bore crossed cutlasses. Others were Elvish ships, light wood and light green sails were a trademark, while still others seemed to be especially made by the pirates themselves, polished to a shine with hand-stitched sails. Here, ships were a point of pride, and it was not favorable to keep them in disarray or leave them damaged.
Larkin studied the ships with amazement as the pirates finished settling their vessel at port. She wasn’t sure why she found them so fascinating. She had seen several ships in the past, but none of them seemed to possess such...personality.
She heard someone chuckle behind her and she turned to see Jonathan watching her.
“You are...amazed?” he questioned with a furrowed brow. He seemed confused by the look of awe on her face.
“I’ve just never seen so many ships before,” she said. “Doesn’t it seem a little extravagant?”
She heard Barren choke with laughter. “Extravagant? You think this is extravagant?”
Larkin rolled her eyes and turned, placing her hands on her hips. “Yes, having hundreds of ships crowding your shore is a little extravagant.”
“This coming from Miss Poofy Dress, flowery hair, and diamond jewelry?” Barren crossed his arms.
“I do not choose what I wear to balls,” she countered.
“Just like you don’t choose your husbands?”
Larkin narrowed her emerald eyes, but Barren only stared back with an equal amount of intensity. He seemed amused by her frustration, and she could feel her anger building in the air between them. He really didn’t seem to think her situation was difficult at all—he should imagine himself in the position of having to marry a woman he did not love, then he would understand. Finally, she moved past the pirate, pushing him aside as she went.
Jonathan looked at Barren. “You are not smooth.”
“I wasn’t trying to be smooth.”
As Larkin walked away, she was surprised to encounter a man moving toward her, holding up a lantern. He hadn’t noticed her yet because he was focusing on his legs, as he only had one. The other was a wooden peg, which got stuck in the ground every time he tried to move. He supported himself with a cane that helped him wade through the sand, but he was still slow. When he looked up and met Larkin’s gaze, he began to yell.
“Now! You stop there! Don’t come any further! State yer name and yer purpose! Oh!”
The man fell face first to the sandy ground. Larkin hurried to him and tried to help him to his feet, but the man snarled at her when her hands touched his arm.
“I can do it m’self!”
She stood aside while he tried to pick himself up again. He rolled over, pushed himself into a sitting position and then thrust his cane into the sand.
“Alex?” Barren’s voice was heard in the darkness. “Alex McCloud?”
It was now nearly too dark to see anything, and the old man turned his head in all directions, trying to locate the voice,
though he knew it well.
“Barren Reed?” he laughed, and Larkin was struck by the sound. He had seemed so hostile before, but now he was excited. “Is that you?”
In no time, Barren was beside Alex, helping him to his feet. The old man embraced him, patting him loudly on the back. “Oh, m’boy! Never thought I’d see ya this soon!”
The amount of joy in Alex’s voice was hard to ignore, and Barren’s was equal. “What’re you doin’ ‘ere?”
“Well, we were intercepted by Mr. Kingsley here. A...diplomat from Arcarum, it seems.”
Alex looked at Jonathan and nodded. Larkin guessed they had met before.
“That whole gang is ‘ere! Albatross’ll want ta see ya. Just didn’t expect ya to be ‘ere so soon. Thought Jonathan would ‘ave a whole lot of trouble catchin’ you, really.”
“He might have, had I not had a little...setback,” said Barren. He glanced back at Larkin and Alex’s eyes followed. While Barren’s only swept her frame, Alex kept his gaze on her, cold and mistrusting.
“Lady Larkin,” he said. She was surprised this old man knew her, and she shuddered at his tone. Had he recognized her before he fell? She looked down at her clothing, her skin...anything to see what would make him observe her as if she were the grim reaper. She was dirty, yes, and she probably smelled, but she was still the same Larkin she remembered. “Not sure you were expected.”
“She will be my problem while we are in Silver Crest, Alex,” said Barren, and this time his burning brown eyes were on her. Even in the darkness, she knew it was a warning—as if she were a child that had to be watched and punished. “No harm will come of it.”
Larkin couldn’t imagine what harm her presence would inflict.
Alex nodded. “If ya say so,” he paused and turned, pulling his peg leg out of the sand. “Well, let’s get you away from this shore! Everyone’s at the Bloodshed. Ya know, we ‘aven’t seen much of ya since yer father died.”
Barren rubbed the back of his head guiltily. “It’s been a little busy, Alex.”
“Busy?” Leaf scoffed. “More like boring—all we did for months was sit off the coast of Maris and eat stale bread.”
“That’s not all we did!” Barren snapped.
Leaf crossed his arms and gave Barren a hard look. Larkin would definitely have to agree with the Elf. She knew all too well how he’d spent the last months. Barren had done nothing other than stalk the coast of Maris, waiting for ships to depart from the harbors. Barren had been obsessed with watching their every move—if they moved port and tried to sail from a different area of Maris, he knew about it and met them head on. Usually he dealt an even greater punishment for their attempts to elude him.
“Well, it’s no matter, I’m glad yer ‘ere.”
Larkin couldn’t imagine anyone being happy to see Barren Reed. His sails usually meant death—though she had been waiting for her own demise since he had captured her and she was still breathing. Barren even saved her. She was beginning to believe Barren wasn’t the bad person everyone in Maris made him out to be, but he had still tried to kill Jonathan. She needed to keep in mind that everything Barren did was for his own gain.
Silver Crest was very quiet for the most part. There were a few lanterns here and there that illuminated a long dirt road snaking its way down the small island, directing traffic to different shops and some houses. Everything was composed of weathered wood and thatched roofs. On this night, there was a heavy breeze and the fresh smell of salt and foam hit her nose. It reminded Larkin that she hadn’t been on land in a few days.
She watched everything; she wasn’t sure if it was because she was curious or because she was afraid someone would jump out and stick her with a sword. She didn’t let her guard down—the town might be quiet, but she expected some sort of brutal activity.
She watched the crew she sailed with—they were all casual, making small talk with Alex as they headed to this...Bloodshed Pub. She was a little frightened by the name, and when they approached the two-story building, she swallowed hard. All the windows were lit with yellow lights. Men stood on the terrace outside of the pub, smoking long pipes, and making rings of smoke dance above them. There were more people on the balcony above, most leaning over languidly, staring droopy-eyed at passersby.
Larkin stared at the rundown building and felt a knot rise in her throat. She didn’t want to go in—she would be surrounded by pirates: people who hated her for no reason, people who hated her father. She wasn’t sure why she wanted them to like her, a pirate’s approval meant nothing...but when they didn’t, when Alex glared at her like a criminal, she felt hurt and confused. She didn’t want to feel judged by all of these people, by people who didn’t know her.
As they headed up the stairs, she was surprised when Barren moved out of the way, pushing her before him. He kept his hand on the small of her back for a moment, steering her beneath the golden lights of the Bloodshed. Inside, music, smoke and liquor hit her nose like a whip. She was a little stunned by the mix, and staggered for a moment, having never smelled anything like it before. Clanking glasses, out of tune singing and laughter rose as part of the melody of the pub, and no one looked their way, too consumed in their own stories and ale. Larkin felt relieved, but when she realized they were passing through the main part of the pub into a darker, smaller area in the back, she got a little more nervous. Barren moved his hand to her shoulder, steering her along in the darkness. He was all too familiar with this place, which eased her mind, but only slightly.
After the dark hall ended, an inviting and warm room opened up to them. It was round with a fireplace full of burning embers. The air was cleaner, and the walls were sheeted with ebony wood. There were no windows in the room, but tarnished sconces decorated the walls, lit with waning candles. There was furniture, too—one red couch and one cream couch faced each other, and a table divided them.
The room itself was already occupied by several people. At first, Larkin recognized no one in the strange, new atmosphere, but after a moment of surveying her surroundings, she noticed one man, thin and willowy, perched upon the arm of the couch. He was dressed in a familiar black suit and had dark, glossy hair that came to his shoulders.
“Ambassador Rowell,” Larkin’s voice seemed to carry across the room and slowly murmurs died down, silence enveloped all, and she felt everyone’s eyes on her. She sensed she had said something wrong, but she wasn’t sure what.
The man she called Ambassador moved his dark eyes to her, cool yet caring. He smiled the same charming smile she was used to and pushed himself off the couch. He bent his willow frame in half, bowing deeply to her as he did at all formal gatherings. For a moment, she wondered if he was mocking her, but as he rose, he spoke and there was nothing in his voice that suggested he was making fun.
“Lady Larkin, a pleasure.”
Then it hit her: Alex had said they were going to see Albatross, a man who had sent Jonathan, an apprentice from Arcarum, to retrieve Barren.
“Y-you’re Albatross?” Larkin stuttered, suddenly realizing that the man she’d thought was fearsome and ugly was exactly the opposite. He was the educated and kind Ambassador of Arcarum.
Cove Rowell gave a sweet smile, and he seemed to pity her. “That is what they call me at sea.”
“But…but you’re a good man!”
He laughed. “Yes, and I am still a good man, though I sail the sea.”
Larkin scoffed. “Surely you know a good man and a pirate cannot be the same thing.”
A snickering laugh escaped from the corner, a laugh she recognized also. Larkin spun and saw the pale face of Senator Hallow Dallon. Bright blonde hair made his eyes seem blacker. He leaned lazily against the hearth, white arms folded over each other.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he observed when her eyes fell upon him.
Larkin pressed her lips together. “None of you are pirates.”
She knew them: they had gone to state dinners, balls, and coronations. They had sa
t in the dining hall with the king. How could they also sit in the middle of Silver Crest? Or embrace Barren as a friend?
“We are not pirates in your world,” corrected Cove.
“There is one world and it is Mariana,” she said evenly. “And in it, you are either loyal to your crown, or a traitor.”
Barren rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. “You think everyone is a pirate if they sail the sea and disagree with you. Don’t get her started, Cove.” He pushed past her, moving into the room. “She’ll lecture us all on how we’re traitors to our crown and barbaric men. Although, she’s somehow still breathing.”
“Barren Reed,” said Cove with a laugh, and it was evident in his glittering eyes that he was both happy and relieved to see the pirate. “It is very good to see you here, and surprising that the Lady Larkin is in one piece.”
Barren swiped a glass of wine from the table. “She’s been my headache ever since I picked her up in Maris.”
Larkin clenched her fists as Barren’s gaze landed on her, but he smirked, eyes taking on an amused glean.
“You had your chance to let me drown.”
“And be responsible for your death?” Barren laughed at the idea, and took a drink from his glass. “No.”
A tense silence fell between them. Cove cleared his throat and Larkin moved her gaze to the Ambassador.
“It is actually very good Barren didn’t let you die, no matter how tempting. It will be easier to clear up this situation and merely return you to Maris. I will escort you, if you’d like.”
“No,” she said defiantly and Cove raised both brows, surprised by her response. “No.”
“I already tried that,” said Barren.
“I’m surprised—you seem so appalled by us. It would be better for you to be with your kind.”
For some reason, those words stung Larkin, and she wanted more than ever to be seen as their equals. Why, here, was she treated as if she didn’t belong? As if she were something to step upon? These men were pirates. As she looked around, however, her thoughts produced acid in her mouth. She knew these people—they were all senators and lords from Arcarum; they were kind, gracious, and known for their good deeds. These were not the people of horror she had learned about. Perhaps her first mistake was thinking pirates were beneath her.
