Ebba-Viva Fairisles: Stolen Princess (Pirates of Felicity Book 2)

by Kelly St Clare

  “I wonder if Felicity will still be there,” Ebba said.

  “Ae, princess,” Nikora answered, making her startle. He took her hand and placed a warm kiss on the back of it. “We have warriors watching it. There is a cat onboard that makes a lot of noise.”

  That sounded about right. “He won’t shut up until Barrels is back. Will Malice be back?” she asked Stubby, extracting her hand and wiping it on her pants.

  Stubby sighed. “Pockmark won’t try to get back on land now—not with the tribespeople alerted and ready—but he’ll know the carvin’ Jagger gave them wasn’t the real dynami.”

  What was happening to Jagger right now? Her stomach churned at the thought of his nickname. Licks. “Pockmark will want the purgium too, if he finds out about it.”

  “The dark ship will return,” someone said.

  Ebba lifted her head and saw the chief and Aroha had joined them.

  Stubby shook his head at the chief, who had spoken. He got to his feet with a pained expression. “Nay, they won’t. We’ll stop at the Pleo village and let word spread that the crew of Felicity is leavin’ for Maltu with the object Pockmark be wantin’. But ye may want to scatter for a bit.”

  The chief glared at the pirate, who didn’t bat an eye. “The Pai Maria do not hide. We have beaten them once. If they dare come again, we will do so again.”

  “Aye,” Stubby said drily. “Well, I be thinkin’ Pockmark will chase us for the here and now. It won’t be until he has the cylinders that he’ll turn his mind to revenge. Not if he be like his grandfather, Mutinous.”

  The chief held his eye and neither looked away. Ebba held her breath.

  The chief ground out between clenched teeth, “Your crew protected our women and children when we could not. I am grateful to you. For that.”

  “Aye, well, it was the least we could do, wasn’t it?” Stubby said, eyes narrowed.

  “Where will you go?” Aroha asked them.

  Plank answered, “We have a spot where we’ll be safe.”

  Aroha looked at Ebba, and her eyes filled. Just like the bloody buckets they were.

  “I saw yer Earth Mother, Aroha,” Ebba blurted in an attempt to stop the torrent. “Pancake-tan-koo-koo.”

  Her blood parents and Nikora flinched.

  “What did she say to you?” asked Aroha when she recovered.

  Ebba scrunched her nose, consulting with Barrels. “Mainly negative stuff, weren’t it?”

  “Yes, Ebba-Viva. She did say the taniwha was dramatic, however. That may have been said in jest.”

  Wasn’t funny.

  “Poripori,” the chief said, eyes round. “The mighty taniwha? Our guardian.”

  Only their guardian when the tribespeople weren’t immediately before the immortal creature and peeing their pants in fear, from what she could tell.

  Nikora spoke. “They showed no fear in its presence.”

  Her fathers chuckled and Peg-leg wiped a tear from his eye. “He were right pissy when we tricked him. Twice.”

  “That be a coin for the swear jar,” Plank said.

  Peg-leg scowled at him. “Pissy ain’t a curse word.”

  Aroha and the chief watched this exchange without uttering a word.

  Some kind of unspoken communication trickled through her fathers, and they stood with varying levels of groans and complaints. “We’ll be leaving, so you can put your dead to rest,” Barrels said.

  The chief and chieftess hesitated, but then Ebba’s blood mother nodded. “That is for the best, perhaps. Though if Ebba would like to stay and join you at the ship after, we can arrange an escort for her later.”

  She turned to Ebba, who surprisingly did feel torn over the choice.

  “Nay,” she said after a pregnant pause. “I wish to be respectful to what the warriors did, but. . . .” Ebba glanced toward her fathers. She wanted to be with the people who loved her most in the world, even if everything with them was a mess right now.

  Aroha dipped her head, expression soft. “I understand.”

  Her fathers bowed to the chief and chieftess.

  Locks looked up. “We be right sorry for the wrong we dealt ye and yer tribe long ago. Those were dark days for us, dark indeed, and we will never be forgivin’ ourselves for the horrors we’ve done.”

  Peg-leg added, “The moment we laid eyes on . . . yer daughter, we changed. I don’t have words for those first seconds where each o’ us looked at her, and a tiny pinprick of light shone its way into our hearts.”

  “We remembered,” Stubby said heavily. “That minute of joy we had when first lookin’ at her was followed by the crushin’ guilt o’ what we’d done in our lives. The shame we each felt, still feel, is unbearable except for when we looked upon her face.”

  Barrels inhaled deeply. “You have no idea what that shame does to us. Daily.” Ebba stared at him as he continued. “If not for the joy aboard our ship, we would’ve long succumbed to it, I’m afraid—whether by returning to that like or seeking a more permanent escape.”

  Ebba froze. What was he saying? She was their only reason for living? She didn’t want that kind of responsibility. They were meant to live for themselves.

  They turned to look at her. Grubby tucked her against his side.

  Plank spoke after a long beat. “While we be sorry for the wrong we’ve done ye, we’re too selfish to let her go.” His eyes landed on Nikora. “I would have large concerns about her stayin’, considerin’ how relaxed ye are about proper chap’ronage.”

  Peg-leg shoved Nikora roughly, and the injured warrior dragged himself a safe distance away from Ebba.

  Aroha held up her hand. “I neither forgive you for what you took from us, nor welcome you back to our lands. Ebba will be accepted any time, but if she comes again, it is to be alone.” She came up to Ebba and put a finger under her chin.

  “Ye going to blubber again?” Ebba asked, eyeing her.

  Aroha smiled. “How prickly you are, tamahine. I will be interested to see who eventually takes your heart.”

  Felicity was still there, rising and falling gently in the calm of the bay they’d left her in. Unchanged. Guarded by a group of warriors and one very loud and disgruntled cat. The sameness of the scene didn’t feel right. Everything looked similar, but everything was so different.

  Sally whirred sadly and rubbed Ebba’s earlobe as she climbed up the side of the ship.

  “I’ll be all right, Sal.” But Ebba’s heart was heavy from what she’d seen and heard, and she didn’t know when it would be light again.

  The familiar thud as her feet hit the deck did manage to bring a smile to her face.

  “He’s wakin’,” Plank hissed.

  Ebba spun. It’d been two days since the purgium took the black from Cosmo. They’d carried him all the way back here strung to a pole. Turned out it was a great way to transport unconscious people.

  She exchanged a horrified look with her fathers.

  Cosmo groaned, face pale. Prone on the deck, he shifted his legs and twitched his right arm.

  Plank was first to run. “We’ll haul anchor.” Plank never hauled anchor; he always trimmed the sheets. Grubby followed in his wake.

  “Damn cowards,” Peg-leg roared. When he turned back, the others had disappeared also, and only Ebba remained.

  “Just us then,” her father grumbled.

  They crouched by the mainlander, waiting.

  It took Cosmo an age to fully wake, and a few not-so-gentle slaps from Peg-leg. “Awake with ye, lad. Come on, now. Time to come back and face the storm.”

  Ebba crouched, swallowing several times.

  Peg-leg gave her a grim look. “Don’t ye cry, lass. Ye don’t ever look at him that way, ye understand?”

  She sniffed and nodded, pinching her leg and straightening her back.

  Cosmo licked his lips and croaked, “Am I dead?” He looked up at the sky in disbelief. The sun shone brightly, and seabirds cawed overhead. “Blue sky and sunshine. Is this real?”

 
; “Aye, ye codfish,” Ebba said cheerfully. “It be as real as real can be.”

  His eyes found her face, and his mouth formed words though he did not sound them. He lay flat and began to shake. He stared at the sky, a tear rolling from the corner of his eye to land on Felicity’s deck.

  Ebba turned away, pinching herself extra hard.

  “Lad,” Peg-leg said in a hard voice. “I have sumpin’ to tell ye. Ye. . . The purgium saved ye from the taint, but it took yer arm.”

  There wasn’t any sound.

  “I’m sorry, lad. Ye have no idea how much. But ye can live just fine with just the one. I be sure o’ that, and I’ll show ye how.”

  A low shuddering sound came from behind her, and then the wracking sobs of someone caught between denial and despair filled her ears. The sound wrenched at her, and where his screams had not undone her, she could not control her reaction to this horrible pain.

  Salty, bitter tears fell down Ebba’s face as she continued to turn from Cosmo’s pain. She couldn’t help making a small sound of her own.

  “Away with ye, Ebba-Viva,” Peg-leg said softly.

  With a mute nod, she stood without looking back and walked away.

  Felicity pitched through the turquoise seas, carrying them back to Zol.

  She sat next to Cosmo’s hammock, watching him with her knees bent and her chin propped on both hands.

  Sally sat cross-legged on his chest, also staring at the slumbering mainlander.

  Cosmo stirred and opened his eyes, jerking when he saw Sally. He glanced at Ebba, appearing still half asleep.

  “Mornin’, Cosmo,” she said.

  “Where are we?” His voice was hoarse.

  “Halfway back to Zol. We had to wait until Malice disappeared around the northern end. They’ve been circlin’ the eastern side, waitin’ for us.”

  “Did they see us?”

  “Nay, they ain’t followin’ us anyhow,” Ebba said. “I was up in the crow’s nest afore. We ain’t seen anyone for the last two days. Felicity be a lot faster than their ship. We’re safe now.” For now.

  They fell quiet, and Cosmo rested his eyes on her with an intensity that wasn’t as bright as before, but with some intensity nevertheless. He’d been down here since Peg-leg told him about his arm, sleeping and staring at the wall without a speck of the usual fire in his gaze.

  “I’m sorry about yer arm,” Ebba said, staring at her knees for fear she’d look at the Exosian man in the wrong way. She hadn’t clarified that point with Peg-leg yet, so it was easier to just avoid looking at him.

  “It was me who asked the purgium to heal ye o’ the taint,” she blurted. “The Earth Mother said it would demand sacrifice, but I didn’t think it’d do that to ye. Jagger said ye wouldn’t want to be stuck in the nightmare, so I did it. I’m so sorry, Cosmo. Ye can chop off me own arm, if ye like.”

  Sally made a derisive sound.

  Feet swung to the ground in her periphery, and the shirtless Cosmo sank beside her against the wall. “I don’t know that I believe my arm can really be gone.” He stared at the stump where his arm had been. Everything from the tip of his left collar bone was gone as though it’d never been there. There wasn’t any wound, just smooth skin. “I can still feel it. I’m making a fist right now. I can rub my fingertips together. If I didn’t feel unbalanced from the lack of weight there, I’d have no trouble pretending that nothing was amiss.” He bobbed his head until he caught her gaze. She did her best to keep her expression firm. “Thank you for saving me from that place,” he said. “Jagger was right.” He shivered, and then muttered, “I remember Jagger waiting in the shadows. I was sure he meant to kill me.”

  “Nah, he was just goin’ to watch ye fade into the darkness for all eternity; said it would be a worse fate for ye to go there than to kill ye himself.”

  Cosmo blinked. “Right.”

  “Why does he hate ye, Cosmo? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “It makes less sense that he’d help me,” the younger man mused. The muscles on the left side of his chest were leaping. Ebba wondered if he was trying to move the arm that wasn’t there any longer.

  Honestly, Jagger’s behavior confused her too. Not that it mattered. He was probably already dead by Pockmark’s hand. That didn’t sit right with her, either—not at all. Contemplating it even made her feel unwell. That he’d gone back to Malice, instead of taking the easy way out and handing over the magic cylinders was the biggest question of all.

  “How are you going being back here with your fathers?” he spoke again.

  She couldn’t believe he was asking how she was after his ordeal. Maybe he needed a distraction from his own troubles. “I think my heart be broken, Cosmo.”

  He tilted his head to look at her. “You have the purgium, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “Then your heart can’t be broken, or the purgium would’ve fixed it. Peg-leg said that the Earth Mother told you all the purgium only fixed wounds, inside or out, that a person couldn’t heal themselves. ”

  Her eyes fell to the pearly cylinder tucked in her belt.

  “Maybe the purgium knew the issue with your fathers was something you’d sort through in your own time.”

  A small smile crossed her face, and she met Cosmo’s amber eyes. “Ye know, I think ye’re right.” That made her feel a lot better. If she was really broken, the magic cylinder would’ve sucked the hurt out of her, like it did Cosmo. That meant even if she didn’t feel things could be fixed at this point, the magic knew otherwise. There was some comfort in that.

  “Did Peg-leg fill ye in on everythin’ the Earth Mother said?” she asked.

  Cosmo shook his head.

  “Papa-two-ah-nookoo had some pretty interestin’ things to say about the realm.”

  “Like what?”

  Ebba sighed. “Like how the magic wall be crumblin’ because some root o’ magic be callin’ to three watchers in the realm, three mortals. She said the wall will be completely gone in a matter o’ weeks. And ye know those six pillars Verity spoke of?” She waited for his nod. “Well, the Earth Mother spoke o’ them too. Sayin’ how they’d been back for fifty years, feedin’ on mortals to grow stronger, and how they’ll cause eternal darkness and the like.”

  The prince slave frowned. “These six pillars are something to be feared, I gather?”

  “Aye, I be thinkin’ so. They ruled for near-on five thousand years, and good magic and the three watchers had to lock them away or sumpin’. She said that we had to make sure the pillars failed. I just don’t be knowin’ exactly what their failure or success has to do with any o’ us. . . .” She trailed off, and then recalled something else. “She said I had to fix my soul, too. There be a crack in it.”

  How in Davy’s should she go about that?

  “Sounds like the Earth Mother was full of specific knowledge.”

  Ebba cracked a smile. “Aye, she were at that. And right powerful too. Flicked her hair and lightning struck the ground. Never seen anythin’ like it, not even with Ladon or the Selkies.” She sighed. “Cosmo, do ye think the sadness in me that the purgium ain’t healin’ be the same as the fracture in my soul?” It hadn’t been killing a person—she’d done that after seeing the Earth Mother.

  Cosmo exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “I’m still at the magic-wall-crumbling part.” He glanced at her. “But is that what you think?”

  She didn’t know what to think about anything the Earth Mother said.

  All she knew is that the dynami and purgium were at the center of all the bad goings-on. She maybe could’ve ignored the soothsayer’s dire warning and the tani-what’s smirking comments, but then there was the drawing Aroha had shown them in the cavern, and the Earth Mother’s fearful urging. There was only so much pretending Ebba could do before she looked totally foolish. Ebba was okay with foolish, but not totally foolish—pretending was a fine balance.

  The problem was. . . .

  “I don’t know what to think, Cosmo. I have
no flamin’ idea how anythin’ fits together. Malice, Felicity, the six pillars, the magical cylinders. I just . . . Plank has been on at us from the start that we need to be figurin’ out more about the return o’ magic. Now, I’m thinkin’ he be right.”

  “And the rest of your crew?”

  Ebba threw him a look. “That be the problem.” No matter that she, Plank, and Grubby might be inclined to find some answers, the rest of their crew were firmly of the opposite opinion; the three of them were outvoted unless something happened to change the others’ minds.

  Cosmo glanced away to stare again at the empty space where his left arm had been, and her heart squeezed. There wasn’t any trace of boy in him anymore—only grief and weariness. “Mistress Fairisles,” he said and straightened. “There’s something I need to tell you, something I should’ve told you long ago.”

  She frowned, not liking his tone one bit. There’d been enough revealed in the last week to last her a bloody lifetime.

  “I should have told you weeks ago,” Cosmo said, avoiding her eyes. “It was fear that kept me quiet. Fear for what your fathers may do, fear for how they may use me to harm my family and others and—in time—fear of what your face would look like when you discovered the truth.” He looked across at her and his amber eyes heated, giving her the most hope for his recovery that she’d had in days.

  She suddenly realized that if Cosmo could make it, Ebba had no excuse not to make it, too. They’d help each other. They’d be okay.

  “I hope you don’t hate me,” he said hollowly.

  She took his hand, squeezing it tight. “Cosmo, I could never hate ye.”

  “That’s the thing, Ebba-Viva,” he replied, searching her face. “My name isn’t Cosmo.”

  “What?” Her face slackened.

  He continued. “Cosmo was the name of my servant. Last I saw him, he was wrapped in a hammock and dropped out to sea.”