“Servant to the prince,” he explained.
The soothsayer hummed non-committedly and waved her hand for him to undress. Cosmo pulled off his tunic and stood, still as a mouse, as Verity circled him. After repeating this three times, she came to a stop in front of his left shoulder and stabbed the mark viciously.
Cosmo cried out and fell to his knees, grabbing his head.
“What did you see?” the soothsayer demanded.
Cosmo moaned.
Verity’s eyes flooded with black. “What did you see?” she hissed, swirling around him once more in a flurry of fabric. Ebba held her breath.
“My father, dead,” Cosmo panted, his face ashen.
“What else?”
He pushed his lips together and shook his head.
“What else!” Verity screeched.
Sweat broke out on his forehead, but he did not speak, shaking his head again. The soothsayer waved a hand to Grubby and Plank, who approached Cosmo and took an arm each, laying him flat on the cleared table. Verity whirled and pushed aside a beaded curtain, reaching to the highest shelf. She reappeared, a glowing bottle in hand. “This is the best antidote I have for what ails your friend,” she announced. Black began to streak her hair once more, but this time the monkey didn’t make an appearance.
“Hold him,” she instructed in a ringing voice.
“But what does he have?” Ebba asked, stepping between the woman and Cosmo, who though tense, didn’t move to fight her fathers’ grip.
“He has been infected with taint,” the soothsayer hissed, pushing her out of the way. “We can only hope it has not taken root within him. The light in this bottle has lost potency over the centuries. It will only work if you’ve caught the taint early enough.”
Ebba gasped as she focused on Cosmo’s mark for the first time in a while. The mark had spread nearly to his elbow. The lines extending to his heart appeared to be having more difficulty spreading, but they had still thickened, easily three times their previous width. “Cosmo,” Ebba said sadly. “Why didn’t ye tell us it had spread so much?”
Verity stilled, and the house shook for a heartbeat.
Peg-leg said, “Why didn’t ye tell us, ye dolt? We ain’t yer minders. We expected ye’d tell us if sumpin’ were amiss.”
Cosmo shrugged. “Informing you all about the progress wouldn’t have changed anything. You could hardly sail the ship faster.”
Ebba glanced away. She should’ve been checking him more instead of losing her head over a trip to Febribus.
Selecting a glass tube from the shelf, one open on either end, Verity placed it directly over the sun-like center of the black mark on Cosmo’s shoulder. He gave Ebba a reassuring smile, which disappeared as Verity removed the cork stopper from the glowing bottle with her teeth and poured the contents down the tube, pressing her thumb over the top. The glowing white from the bottle seemed to hover indecisively in the tube for a moment before shooting, like an arrow, directly into Cosmo’s chest, disappearing from sight.
Cosmo cried out and arched off the table.
Verity shoved him back down and put the tube aside, watching the black mark with avid attention. The others gathered around him, doing the same. He twisted side to side, his face contorted, pale and dripping with sweat. “Come on.” The soothsayer’s voice slithered through the air. Her hair was jet black by now, and streaks of red interrupted her pale skin like fissures on a volcano.
Cosmo sucked in great breaths of air, and his body suddenly relaxed into unconsciousness.
They leaned over him and stared at the mark. Ebba watched, heart hammering as the tendrils down his arm began to recede. The pace slowed as the tendrils shrunk back to his shoulder until they were only an inch from where he was first wounded. Their group waited without talking or moving for another long while, but there was no further change to the black mark.
A heavy sigh from Verity made them jump. Her blonde hair and blue eyes had returned, and she traced the remaining mark, expression grim. “The tendrils extending to his heart didn’t even budge,” she said softly. “I’m afraid the taint has rooted inside of him. The taint moves much quicker through a body as an infection, I’m afraid.”
She’d never heard of the taint in her life. Ebba’s mouth had dried. “What does that mean? That it’s taken root?”
Verity didn’t meet her eyes. “He has only until the first tendrils reach his heart. Then he will be lost to the taint forever.”
“Then what happens?” she pressed, mouth dry.
Black eyes flashed and rose to her own. Ebba fell mute.
“Ye can’t be sayin’ he’ll die,” Plank thundered.
“I’m going to die?” came a weak voice.
They turned to Cosmo, who didn’t seem to have the strength to do anything but talk. For the first time, Ebba stopped denying the seriousness of Cosmo’s ailment. That she or her fathers didn’t know what it was had been concerning. But that a soothsayer was saying she couldn’t heal him made her want to be sick. If Verity couldn’t heal Cosmo, where else could they possibly go?
“No one be dyin’,” Ebba said, gritting her teeth. She couldn’t lose Cosmo. In a short time, he’d become important to her. He was irreplaceable. This taint couldn’t be all that bad. There had to be an answer.
Verity placed her hands on her hips. “Then you need to cut off the core of the taint. He’s lucky the wound is beyond the clavicle. Cut off his arm and he may live.”
The words had Cosmo pushing to sit against her fathers’ hold.
“Will it work? If we get the core of the black mark?” Grubby asked, crestfallen.
The soothsayer was grim. “It is his only chance.”
“No!” Cosmo said. He pushed violently against Plank’s hold but stood no chance over the sail master’s lean strength.
“Over my dead body will ye do that to the lad,” Peg-leg bellowed, starting toward Plank. “He’s better off dead.”
“Would you rather be dead?” Verity said calmly.
Peg-leg flushed and remained mute, his eyes falling to his leg before they focused on Ebba.
Cosmo? Dead? Ebba blinked furiously. It was just a bit of black. Sure, the taint, or whatever it was called, had been poisoning him, but to kill him? She hadn’t even contemplated that they may not succeed in healing him. Ebba certainly wasn’t prepared to hear that verdict.
Taking the soothsayer’s hand, Ebba waited until the woman met her eyes. “Please, Verity. There has to be sumpin’ else we can try. Cosmo be right important to us. We’ll do anythin’. Is there sumpin’ more powerful-like than the glowin’ white stuff ye poured into his arm? What’s the source of it? Ye said it had lost some power. Mayhap we can be gettin’ more.”
“The source is long gone.” Verity placed a deathly cold hand on Ebba’s cheek and stopped in her tracks. Red cracks appeared on her face in a rapid wave. Without otherwise moving, the soothsayer shifted her eyes to the mirror. Her eyes flashed from blue to black so rapidly it made Ebba dizzy to watch it.
“The price is high.” The soothsayer breathed her question. The words echoed through the hut. She spoke again. “What is his role?” With a great shudder, Verity came to, staring at the mirror for an age before whispering, “So be it.”
She blinked into Ebba’s eyes, one of her hands still on Ebba’s cheek. The soothsayer stared at her for an age, eyes remaining blue, until finally she said, “I will play my part.”
She dropped her hand and whatever age-old power had frozen Ebba to the ground during Verity’s ranting conversation with the mirror released its hold.
Ebba hunched over, chest heaving from nothing more than her proximity to whatever had just happened within the soothsayer. That was what the woman kept inside? A thread of awed fear worked up through Ebba’s spine.
“There is something else you can do,” Verity said smoothly. “The only thing that will save him, aside from cutting off the arm.”
“What?” Peg-leg asked, his weathered face set in determin
ed lines. “Anythin’ to save the boy’s arm.”
Plank let Cosmo up, supporting him as he wavered in sitting. Whatever happened to him when the light shot into his chest, it had taken its toll.
Something akin to fear flickered across the soothsayer’s face before she schooled her expression. “There is an object,” she started in a toneless voice, “deep within the forests of Pleo. The object is called purgium though the ancient tribe who has long guarded this sacred object calls it whakaora te wairua. Translated, this means ‘to make the soul healthy.’”
A heavy tension followed her words. A throat cleared and all eyes swiveled to Plank. “I don’t s’pose the tribe guardin’ it be called the Pai Marie?” he asked, clearing his throat.
Verity cut off whatever she’d been about to say and fixed both eyes on Plank. “Yes, why?”
He, Grubby, and Peg-leg exchanged a long, loaded look.
Peg-leg beamed at Verity. “I don’t s’pose there be somewhere else we can get a purgium?”
“What happened to ‘we’ll do anything’?” the soothsayer said with narrowed eyes.
Ebba watched her fathers closely. They became aware of her scrutiny and grinned three highly unconvincing grins.
“We will do anythin’,” Peg-leg said with a shaky laugh. He avoided Ebba’s accusing gaze.
“What will this purgium do?” Cosmo asked wearily. Ebba picked up his hand and patted it as Barrels did when she was sad.
“It will rid you of the taint and the images which have begun to haunt you, Prince Slave,” Verity said. “But beware, the purgium does not give without taking. It may demand something you are not willing to sacrifice.”
“And if I don’t find this purgium?” he asked, jaw clenching and amber eyes blazing.
The soothsayer shrugged. “Then you will be lost to the darkness and become a slave in truth.”
“Yer just full of good news, ain’t ye?” Ebba grumbled, her heart sinking.
For the first time, real anger showed on Verity’s face. She went into full-on scary mode before the monkey clanged the cymbals in her ear once more. The woman regained control and fixed Ebba with a glare so sharp it might’ve turned her into a little raisin had she been a grape. “In my experience, pirate, the only questions people come here to ask are those that require a hard answer. If you do not wish to know the truth, do not knock on my door.”
“Ebba,” Peg-leg said.
She sent him a defiant scowl though her heart was kicking up a storm inside. But she dropped her gaze. “I be meanin’ no d’srespect, Miss Verity.”
A snort was her only response. “You certainly did. But who could expect less of a girl raised by six pirates?”
“We did the best we could.” Plank stilled, voice vibrating. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with our daughter.”
Verity waved a hand. Her unfocused periwinkle eyes were set on the table and she barely seemed to hear Plank. Catching herself, the soothsayer answered, “Yes, no doubt you’ve done well enough. You must leave me now. Don’t come back unless ye bring me Locks’ bollocks on a platter.” The woman returned her eyes to the table.
Her fathers supported Cosmo out the door, Peg-leg limping after them.
Ebba hesitated in the doorway though she couldn’t deny she wanted to be out of the creepy house more than she wanted to be in it. “Verity, is there anythin’ ye wish me to pass on to Locks?”
The soothsayer darted a look after her fathers before wetting her lips. “He mentioned me?”
After thinking for a brief moment, Ebba replied, “Locks likes to talk an awful lot about how we should never speak o’ ye. He then spends more time speakin’ o’ ye than followin’ his own order. My fathers said he were a misery to be with in the first years after he left Febribus.” Imagine if Ebba had grown up with Verity for a mother? She’d be terrifying already. Ebba had never met a female like her.
“How is he?” Verity asked as though the words tasted like rotten fish.
“He’s been a good father, and he be a great carpenter. I think he’s fine.” She lifted a shoulder, not knowing what else to say. Mentioning Locks’ girlfriends was not a good idea. Ebba guessed the monkey would have to come out again if she did. “Is there anythin’ ye’d like me to pass on?” she asked again.
Verity opened her pink mouth, and it seemed like she might give Ebba a message. But the light coming through the door caught at the mirror behind, and the soothsayer turned her head toward it. Her expression tightened, and the shards of joy Ebba had seen in her eyes faded.
“No,” the soothsayer said, expression unfathomable. “Only one tiny possibility of that life remains. Go now, Ebba-Viva Fairisles. And remember . . . you decide what and who you are,” she said as her eyes turned to an endless black pit. “Nobody else.”
Eight
Only a sliver of sunlight remained along the horizon when their staggering group exited the mangroves. Ebba had taken the lead half an hour ago, eager for their crew to be whole once more. She’d officially seen her first soothsayer, but the knowledge that Cosmo was truly sick had wrought all excitement from this trip.
What was the taint, and how could it possibly take him over forever? Verity hadn’t said he’d die but that he’d become a slave to darkness. At least, that’s what her words had implied. Maybe Ebba misunderstood her. She felt unsettled after their visit like the problem was now a lot bigger than expected and no longer entirely manageable.
A wailing “reoooow” echoed across the water between Felicity and their half of the crew. A lamenting Pillage was a sure sign the others weren’t back. Where Barrels was, Pillage wanted to be, and when that didn’t happen, the black cat let everyone know about it.
“They ain’t back yet,” Peg-leg said under his breath to Grubby.
Grubby squinted in the direction of the town center.
Peg-leg pressed his lips in a solemn line. “They should’ve been back well afore us. I hope they ain’t been. . . .” He glanced at Ebba and lowered his voice. “. . . held up.”
Stark terror ran through Ebba. This was why she hated splitting up. She could never be sure the group she wasn’t in wouldn’t get into trouble without her to protect them. Why didn’t they just do everything together? Nerves twisted in her stomach.
She should have gone into Febribus with the others.
Ebba ran ahead of her fathers and the ashen Cosmo to the water. But to her right, a shadowy figure stood from his seated position on the beach. With a squeak, Ebba pulled up short and yanked her pistol free.
She aimed it at the person—a man, judging by the height of him—and pulled back the hammer.
“Who are ye?” Ebba demanded, voice shaking slightly from the sudden intrusion.
The person stepped closer to her, but the man’s head was bowed.
“Who are ye?” she said again, louder.
Ebba felt her fathers and Cosmo crowding behind her.
A sinister chuckle fell from the stranger’s lips. “Ye don’t remember me? I’m insulted.”
A gasp echoed in her ears—her own—as the last of the daylight caught on straggly, flaxen hair. High cheekbones were revealed next when the person lifted his head; he was taller than even Plank. She only needed to see the man’s silver eyes to confirm who he was.
“Jagger,” Peg-leg said and spat to one side.
Ebba stood mute, keeping her pistol raised. Though Peg-leg had spoken, Jagger didn’t take his eyes off of her. The corners of his mouth lifted in a smirk, and Ebba forced back her shock. Then it occurred to her just why seeing the traitorous guide who’d led them through Neos was such a bad omen. He was from Malice.
She aimed the pistol at his heart. “Where be my other fathers, ye cowardly motherfisher?”
“Ebba-Viva,” Plank warned.
She sighed. There went another coin to the curse jar.
Jagger crossed his arms and raked his eyes over the rest of the company. “Why would I be tellin’ ye that?”
Ebba shifted her pistol to
the ground and fired.
The sand at his feet erupted. In her mind, Jagger fell to his knees and begged for her mercy, but the reality was the Malice pirate only widened his eyes ever so slightly and didn’t budge an inch.
Plank chuckled. “He didn’t think she’d shoot.”
“Why do they never expect her to shoot?” Peg-leg snorted.
Ebba drew her second pistol and cocked it, aiming for the heart once more. “That was yer warnin’ shot, Jagger. Next time, ye’ll be fish fodder.”
Pistol-metal eyes assessed her. “It’d be a shame for ye to kill, I reckon.”
She frowned, and her fathers stirred behind her. What did he mean?
“I came to warn ye,” Jagger said, surveying their group. “Yer tantrum ain’t needed. I can lead ye to yer fathers. Pockmark has them held in one of his establ’shments.”
Peg-leg limped forward, scoffing, “And I s’pose ye do this out of the goodness o’ yer heart, ye weasel? How stupid do ye think we are? Ye’ve come to collect the rest o’ us for yer scupper rat captain.”
Jagger sighed and unfolded his arms. “Do ye think Pockmark would be sendin’ one man if he knew where ye were?”
Ebba contemplated this. Well, nay. Probably not.
“How did you know where we were?” Cosmo asked quietly.
The other pirate didn’t glance his way, and it was only because he didn’t that Ebba was reminded of a curious moment, weeks before in Kentro. As Felicity had sailed past Malice, Jagger spotted Cosmo on their deck—and she’d never seen such burning hatred on a face.
“I saw yer other crewmates bein’ dragged in. Where else would ye dock but at the o’posite end o’ the island to the rest o’ the pirates?”
Ebba considered this and decided his pirate logic was sound. “Ye still haven’t explained why ye’re helpin’ us, scum bucket.”
His eyes darkened at her words, and she readied her pistol. She’d only have time to fire once before he’d be on her. She’d seen the grace and strength in his body when he led them through the Neos rainforest to the mountain. His muscles were corded from laboring on Malice, and instinct cautioned her against trusting in those silver eyes which were far too shrewd. Her interactions with Jagger had told her that, like Cosmo, the pirate was one to sit back and listen and collect. But where Cosmo paused only to lessen the offense his words might cause, Jagger gave the impression he was filing information for later use. That he was plotting and exploring weaknesses.
Ebba-Viva Fairisles: Stolen Princess (Pirates of Felicity Book 2) Page 9
