by Ashley Nixon
“It is better, is it not, to have such a device in the hands of someone who will not exploit it?”
“But you will not be the only king. There will be others who are not as wise.” Barren argued.
“Can you not trust your cousins, Datherious and Natherious, who so ardently believe in Saoirse, that they joined your crew? Believe me, Barren, the hope is that this stone will be returned to the crown’s vault and not looked upon again. It has no power so long as it is in none of our hands.”
Barren shivered hearing the promise in Tetherion’s tone. He was very quiet. He did not like the idea of this stone being in existence. Even if he trusted the king, and even if the twins believed in Saoirse, it still left the potential for the throne to be unopposed, and while that was convenient for any king, what if the world no longer wished for a king? What if that king was a terrible ruler? That stone had the ability to lay waste to many. To hand over such a stone felt like treason to Barren since he upheld the right to Saoirse and the code.
“I would go after it myself, but I have a rebellion to quash in Maris. I believe I should stay put for a spell, since this isn’t the first.” Tetherion added more guilt to Barren’s shoulders. “Barren, I am offering you a chance to have your revenge. Do this for me, and whatever happens to William along the way will be no one’s fault but his own.”
“What?” Larkin stood immediately. “A life is not yours to offer up in exchange for anything, not even for something as dangerous as this stone.”
“I am not handing over a life, Lady Larkin. Barren has to catch William first.”
Barren understood what Tetherion was offering. William would be at sea in search of this stone. He would be vulnerable, and he could take advantage of that by seeking out the bloodstone for Tetherion.
“Don’t you trust me?” Tetherion added, as if he could read Barren’s mind.
The pirate was at a loss—he did trust Tetherion…with his life. The king had done nothing to harm him, always remaining blind to Barren’s antics, despite the fact that he allowed William to move up in the ranks. At any point, he could have sent Barren to the noose, and now, as Tetherion’s dark eyes surveyed the pirate, that truth was all the more evident. Not only that, but Tetherion was offering Barren an open invitation to pursue his wish for revenge.
“I don’t even know where to start looking,” said Barren.
“Your brother will begin by seeking members of your father’s crew who were with him at the time.”
“Members like Alex?”
“Alex’s injuries kept him here in Silver Crest during the time your father took the bloodstone, but it is Alex who will take you to Conn and there you can begin your search. He says he knows someone.” Barren was a little irritated that his uncle had already taken the liberty of discussing this with everyone else before he ever agreed to do it.
“But William has known about the stone longer, how do we know he hasn’t already found it?”
“You will know when he comes into possession of the bloodstone. He will begin to destroy what he hates most in the world—pirates. The most frightening thing about the bloodstone is that it is dark magic—the power of evil, of selfishness, and it cares for no living thing. It will corrupt in whatever way it feels necessary—through famine, disease, or natural disaster.”
Barren stood quickly, and Larkin jumped. “Is that all you needed of us?
Tetherion nodded. Barren extended his hand, motioning for Larkin to leave. She brushed past him and hurried for the exit. Barren was right behind her, but before he could escape, Tetherion called to him again.
“I will be gone by morning,” he said. “I must return to Maris and clean up the mess your brother has made. Promise me you will bring the bloodstone.”
Barren only held his uncle’s gaze for a moment, then he closed the door behind him. Turning to face the cool air of the hallway, he hadn’t realized how hot it had been in the study. He let out a low breath.
“What are we going to do?” Larkin asked, waiting for Barren to speak.
“Stop William and find the bloodstone,” said Barren simply, not missing that Larkin had suddenly involved herself in his expedition to destroy her fiancé.
“You mean kill him?”
Surprisingly, Barren felt more concerned with the knowledge that his mother was a Lyric, and his father had been the reason for her death. If anything, he felt motivated to attempt this quest to find the truth.
Barren leveled his gaze with hers. He didn’t want it to seem that his wish for revenge had lessened during the course of their conversation, because it hadn’t. The thought of an unstoppable William Reed was not favorable to Barren in the least. So he asked, “Are you going to protect him as you protected Jonathan?”
“And if I did, would you kill me?”
“No one gets in the way of my revenge.”
The look she gave him challenged that statement. “Do you trust your uncle?”
“I have no reason not to trust my uncle,” Barren said, scratching his prickly chin. “I may not always like him, but he has done me no wrong.”
The two headed downstairs and out of the Bloodshed Pub. He imagined Larkin was more than happy to leave the pub. She kept her pace with Barren as he headed toward a white, two-story house at the end of the road. It was a charming home with a wrap-around porch, warmly-lit windows, and delicious aromas.
As they approached, they found Alex on the porch, rocking in a chair. He had a knife and was whittling away at a piece of wood. When he spotted them, he stood and held the door open for them.
“Mary’s got some food saved for ya. She wouldn’t go to bed ‘til she knew you’d all eaten,” he said, leading them into the kitchen.
Mary was Alex’s wife. She was a round woman with a round face and flush cheeks. She kept her hair in a bun, though wisps of it escaped and flew in a frenzy around her face. When she saw Barren enter, she hugged him tightly. She pulled away, and placed her hands on either side of the pirate’s face.
“You’re such a good boy,” she said. “A good, kind-hearted boy.”
Then Mary’s eyes fell on Larkin, and it was as if she’d known her all her life.
“What a doll you are!” she said, spreading her arms wide and embracing her. Larkin seemed surprised but accepted the welcome with a smile as she returned the hug. “Barren, where did you get such a pretty girl?”
Mary pulled away, but managed to grasp Larkin’s hand as she did.
Barren smiled and rubbed the back of his neck, not meeting Mary’s gaze. “That’s complicated, Mary…”
“I’m from Maris,” Larkin interrupted. Barren watched her as she spoke, relieved that he didn’t have to explain to his only mother-like figure that he’d kidnapped a girl. “You could say I stowed away on Barren’s ship. Not my best idea.”
“I’d say,” he muttered.
“Well, you better be nice to her,” Mary placed her hands on her hips. “A man’s only as good as he treats his lady.”
Barren buried his face in his hand. He would have attempted to correct Mary—tell her Larkin was most certainly not his lady, but he had learned long ago it did no good to right her.
The rest of Barren’s company had already eaten in the time it had taken for him and Larkin to speak with Tetherion and had now retired to their rooms. Mary gave Barren and Larkin their supper. They ate between questions from Mary, which were both entertaining and awkward. Barren had the strangest feeling of ease as they all sat around the table, laughing together—he would never have guessed this would be happening. Larkin was actually enjoying herself, and Barren found that he liked watching her smile more than he should.
When they were finished, Mary ushered Larkin down the hall, offering a hot bath, new clothes, and grooming. Larkin was more than happy to concede, but gave Barren a worried look as he was left alone in the dining room.
He didn’t stay there long, however. He grabbed a bottle of wine from the cabinet and moved through the double-doors into th
e kitchen and then out the back door. He made his way down the rocky path to a small marker—a cross carved out of wood. It wasn’t really the place Jess was buried, but when Barren was in Silver Crest, he liked to imagine it was. He sat down on a slab of rock next to the cross. He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. Pulling the cork out of the bottle, he took a long drink, ignoring the bitterness as he swallowed.
He watched the ocean for a moment. It was calm. The light of the moon drifted over it like a ghost. Then he looked at the cross as if it had spoken to him. “I thought I would have avenged you by now. I hope you will forgive my neglect. Things haven’t gone my way.”
Then he laughed at himself. This piece of wood wasn’t going to respond to him, and even though he knew that, he was struck with sadness. Rubbing his face vigorously, he stood and left the silent cross.
The rain was cold and harsh. Barren stood knee-deep in the water. He wasn’t sure where he was. Everything was dark, but as he began wading through the water toward the shore, he heard his name cutting through the air like a knife.
“Barren! Help me, Barren!”
It was Larkin. He spun around; the water fought him, rising up in giant waves to wash over him. He pushed forward into the dark blue-black of the ocean, searching for her.
“Larkin! Larkin! Where are you?” he cried desperately—his tone sounded foreign to him. He felt anxiety and fear overpower him as he searched for her in the impossible darkness. The panic spread through his chest and pulled tightly.
“Barren!” her voice was a distant echo, but he turned in the direction from which it came and finally saw her lithe frame. She fought the brutal waves of the Orient.
“Larkin!” Barren moved toward her as fast as he could, diving into the Orient’s resentful waters. He propelled himself forward, his arms and legs hurt from the force of the waves, and the pressure against his ears made his head pound. His chest burned from holding his breath. Finally, he broke the surface, taking in a deep breath. Larkin was before him, fighting to stay above the water.
“Larkin! Take my hand!” He reached for her, and their fingertips touched.
“Barren,” she breathed, helplessly, exhausted. Her eyes shimmered dully. With a final push from the Orient, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. Her breath was weak, and her body limp. The Orient seemed to react by pushing them to the dark shore. He stumbled out of shallow water, staring down at her white face.
“Larkin,” he whispered. “Larkin, don’t let go...stay with me.”
Her eyes were slits now; the only life left in them was a dull glow. Barren fell to his knees with her, holding her head in his lap. He pressed his hand to the side of her face. “Don’t let go!” he ordered, but she just smiled faintly.
Then a thick dark streak ran from her mouth. He moved his thumb over it, wiping it away, realizing it was blood. It was only then he noticed his shirt was soaked with a warm substance.
“Larkin!” he cried desperately, as he saw the blood pool at a hole in her abdomen—she had been shot. “No, please...please don’t leave me!”
She still smiled, and placed her ivory hand upon his face. She moved his hair behind his ear. “I am sorry.”
Her hand left his face, leaving a streak of warmth. Her body went limp in his hands. Numbness overtook him, and pain spread through his limbs as he lifted her against him, and buried his face in the hollow of her neck.
***
Barren opened his eyes and sat up quickly. Light blinded him and he fell back, hitting his head against the wall. “Ouch!” he placed his hands behind his head, as the pain burned beneath his fingers. Lying there for a moment, he gathered his thoughts. He was relieved that he had been having a dream, but he couldn’t shake the feelings he had experienced—they were so strong, so real and all for someone who had given him hell since the moment they’d met.
He had proven, however, that he would save Larkin no matter the danger, when he jumped into the Orient to pull her to safety. Part of it was the fact that he could not be responsible for her death, but there was another reason. There had to be…Barren didn’t simply disregard his own life for anyone. Now he was having dreams about Larkin’s death. This had to stop. Either Larkin was going to have to return to Maris, or Barren would never sleep again.
He stood up, rubbing the back of his head. Grabbing his shirt from the chair he’d left it on the night before, he pulled it on, and splashed his face with cool water. The smells of breakfast—freshly baked bread, eggs, and sausage—came to his nose, and his stomach growled, angry at its emptiness. He had forgotten how much he missed real food after having only eaten stale bread and potatoes for the past several months. Barren hurried out of his room and headed for the stairs.
“Hungry, are ye?” laughed Slay. Barren turned to see him and Leaf.
“Better get there before the dwarf, or there’ll be no food left.”
Slay grumbled and glared at the Elf.
“Sleep well?” asked Leaf, observing the purplish bags under Barren’s eyes.
“It was a rough night.” Barren turned from the two pirates and headed down the stairs.
“Tetherion was pretty hard on ye, eh?” asked Slay. “Cause you took Lord Lee’s daughter?”
“Not hardly…although that probably didn’t help,” said Barren. “It was another matter entirely, but I’d prefer to tell you after I’ve had some food.”
The three entered the dining room. It was a large red room with a huge bay window overlooking the road outside. One of the windows was open, allowing a cool breeze to circulate. Chairs crowded the dining table, enough to seat Cove and Barren’s crew. Silverware and white china lay before everyone, and plates of food sat at the center, filled with eggs, meat, and breads. There were also glass pitchers of juice and water, and a ceramic pot of coffee. The aromas made Barren’s mouth water.
Alex was already there, sitting at the head of the table, helping himself to several heaping spoons full of eggs and sausage. He smirked when he saw them enter and patted the space beside him.
“Come! Sit and eat with me!” He looked so jolly that Barren wondered what had him in such a good mood. Maybe the prospect of having to sail to Conn was exciting for him. It had been a while since Alex had sailed. His injuries and obligations to Silver Crest usually kept him inland.
Cove, Hollow and the others filed in shortly after Barren. They all looked refreshed and were in very good spirits. It had been a few years since Barren sat at a table with his friends. Barren had known Cove since Alex introduced them five years ago. The Ambassador expressed his sorrow at hearing of Jess’s death. Aside from the pirates of Silver Crest, he had been the first to give Barren his sympathy and he understood Barren’s wish for revenge. They had been secret allies ever since. It was one of several reasons Barren had been free this long. That, and the fact that Tetherion had kept anyone from declaring war upon him.
As he looked around the table, he noticed Larkin was missing. He didn’t like how his eyes had suddenly gone in search of her, but he chalked it up to the nightmare he had last night. His gaze landed on her as she stepped through the doorway; her hair streamed over one shoulder in curls. Her face was refreshed and radiant: a slight blush pressed over her cheeks, and a smirk threatened her lips. She exchanged the clothes Barren had given her for something more fitting—a brown cotton dress and a red corset that hugged her waist. He smiled, though he wished he hadn’t because Leaf caught his gaze and the look in his eyes told Barren he’d hear about this later.
“Larkin!” exclaimed Leaf. “Come! Sit!”
She laughed as she walked toward Leaf, taking a seat next to him—right across from Barren. Their eyes met as she picked up a fork and began scooping food onto her plate.
“Tetherion left early this morning. Seems his favoritism landed him in hot water…it only took twenty-five ships and one kidnapping,” said Cove. His dark eyes were on Barren as he took a drink from his mug.
Barren met the Ambassador’s gaze. “How is
it you know everything before anyone else, Albatross?”
Cove smiled. “I did not spend the last few years doing nothing. You know my network reaches far and moves quickly.”
Cove’s network was often referred to as The Network and consisted of a web of pirates dispersed all over the Orient. They were basically spies, and exchanged messages constantly, but it was not only for the Ambassador’s private use—any pirate could use it to get a message to another and in this way it acted as a sort of postal service.
“Yes, if only it could tell us where the bloodstone is.”
“The bloodstone?” asked Leaf. “You mean the one that’s not real?”
“Oh no, apparently it’s quite real—a royal family secret.” Barren’s eyes landed on the twins. “You two didn’t know about this, did you?”
The two exchanged a glance. “We knew it was missing,” said Datherious, “but father always seemed okay with its absence.”
“So what’s changed?” Cove’s dark eyes were on the twins first, then they settled on Barren.
“William is after it,” said Barren. “And Tetherion wants me to stop him, and find the bloodstone. He seems to think it is best kept under his care.”
“Is it not?” questioned Datherious. “You know father would protect it.”
“It’s not about who would protect it best,” said Larkin. “That stone is composed of Barren’s blood—”
“Our blood,” said the twins in unison.
“William’s blood,” Barren reminded them sternly. “And if he has it, he will, essentially, be invincible. You’ve all heard the legends—Eadred was able to destroy the whole of Gesalec’s army with that device. Imagine what William would do to the pirates of Silver Crest—worse, the rest of the Mariana.”
“How did something as important as the bloodstone slip out from under the king’s nose in the first place?” asked Hollow.
“I am unsure,” replied Barren. “All I know is that my father was responsible for stealing it. Tetherion said he wished to possess it in order to defeat Cathmor’s army during the Ore Wars.”
