Eternal Gambit

by St Clare, Kelly

  No. There wouldn’t be a next time.

  “Ebba?” Caspian asked.

  She jolted.

  Shite.

  “Ahoy,” she greeted him, not looking back. Had he seen anything? He’d slept right by the entrance of the cave.

  “Aren’t you freezing?”

  Not anymore. “Aye, I awoke freezin’ my rear off.”

  “. . . You should have woken me. I’d have given you my tunic like I offered,” he said, sitting beside her on the opposite side from where Jagger had sat only moments ago.

  “Ebba?” Stubby called.

  That was her cue! Like the coward she was, Ebba leaped to her feet and rushed inside the cave.

  “Aye?” she answered her father. “Do ye need sumpin’? What do ye need? I’ll get it for ye.”

  “Uh . . . nay, lass, just wonderin’ where ye were. Ye didn’t need to . . . sprint in here.”

  “Oh.”

  “Are ye feelin’ okay-like?” he pressed her.

  For a coward, yes. She felt pretty bad for not saying something more to Caspian just now. That had been the perfect time to tell him all. But the guilt over delaying their talk warred with protectiveness over the prince’s state of mind. And she’d been all flustered from the encounter with Jagger.

  “Aye, fine,” she told her father.

  Ebba sank onto a stone near the entrance, staring out at her friend who remained where she’d left him, peering down at the cavern below.

  Alone.

  She didn’t want him to be alone.

  Caspian sprang to his feet. He jogged to the cave.

  “Food and water,” he called in.

  “Speak sense, or shut yer gob,” Locks snapped from where he still attempted to sleep.

  Jagger melded out of the shadows. “Where is it?”

  “Three pirates are carrying it through the boulders toward us,” Caspian replied.

  Her stomach grumbled, and Ebba scowled. “Well, if the tainted be touchin’ the stuff, we can’t eat it.”

  The prince left the cave, Jagger one step behind. Despite her words, Ebba hurried after them, Stubby and Barrels hot on their heels.

  Once out on the ledge, Jagger leaned against the cliff wall so his back was turned away from the crew.

  The action made her realize just how purposefully he’d always positioned himself to keep his back out of sight, especially during the last two days. His scars were faint, but visible within five or six feet. Clearly, something about the scars still shamed him if he felt he had to hide them.

  He scowled at her staring, and she scowled right back before joining the others to peer down to the base of their cliff perch.

  Three pirates were weaving toward their cave. Ebba squinted at the blond head of the one on the left. That looked an awful lot like. . . .

  “Swindles.” She gasped. But she’d killed him yesterday with the purgium—how was he back?

  “I did wonder how that would go,” Barrels said, tying back his salt-and-pepper hair.

  She turned to stare at him with the others.

  Her eldest father shrugged. “How do you die if you’re already dead?”

  “So what? Ye think he just . . . got up after a while?” Jagger asked, joining them at the edge, rotating slightly so his back wasn’t visible to the crew.

  “Not sure,” Barrels replied. “Swindles didn’t get up immediately, so I’m inclined to believe a certain amount of time passes before they regenerate. Or get up, as you say.”

  “Great,” Stubby said. “So we can’t be killin’ the sods in here. Good to know, I s’pose.”

  Ebba had felt slightly bad for killing Swindles, but she felt cheated that her efforts to dent Cannon’s numbers had backfired. If the occupants of Davy Jones’ couldn’t be harmed, that was mighty bad news for her crew.

  “Oi, two o’ ye come down. Only two!” came a shout from below. Riot, by the sound of the slight whining tone.

  “I’m goin’,” Ebba declared, already halfway to the stairs.

  She had to see how dead Swindles was.

  Ignoring the calls behind her, she started down the black stone steps. When out of sight from above, Ebba paused. Stubby descended behind her in short measure, throwing a glare her way.

  “What’s wrong?” Ebba asked, eyes wide.

  Stubby flicked her cheek, and she sniggered, turning to continue picking her way to the bottom.

  At the base, she swept her gaze over the three pirates.

  Pockmark was absent today. Riot, Swindles, and an unknown pirate who looked more dead than alive stood behind a two-foot-by-two-foot case made of the black-and-crimson stone.

  Ignoring the case, she surveyed Swindles. Yesterday, when he’d healed and died, his skin had cleared of the weeping blemishes caused by the taint. Today, all of the pus-filled wounds were back. Like nothing had ever changed. He didn’t move with difficulty after what had sounded like an excruciating ordeal with the purgium. His eyes were still black. Nothing had altered.

  As Barrels had theorized, Swindles appeared to have regenerated.

  “Surprised to see me?” Swindles sneered at her.

  He didn’t seem happy about being killed. “Dying hurt then?” she asked. “Good.”

  His face contorted into a snarling fury, and Stubby shifted forward to stand beside her, but the tainted pirate didn’t move off the spot.

  “Food and water,” Riot said, kicking the stone case.

  Stubby spoke. “And how do we know it be safe to eat?”

  The pirate’s lips curled. “Cannon thought ye may be havin’ hes’tations. He said to tell ye that the Capricorn were droppin’ off the food into the stone case just this mornin’. It be safe to eat. He was also sayin’ that if ye chose not to eat, that be yer choice. Whether ye be dyin’ or no is o’ no cons’quence to him.”

  That Cannon was feeding them seemed to contradict the last part. But . . . she glanced at her father. The black stone couldn’t be infected with the taint. They’d seen that with veritas. Back on Satyr Island, she’d glimpsed small amounts of taint within the Capricorn, but their eyes hadn’t been black. They weren’t contagious, so eating food they’d touched was safe.

  She nodded at her father, and he pressed his lips together before doing the same.

  Stubby faced the tainted pirates. “Anythin’ else then?”

  “Aye,” Swindles said, smirking. “Cannon be desirous o’ seein’ the wench. Said she’d be better put to use servin’ him lunch.”

  Ebba would serve him a bullet in his innards if she got the chance. Even if he’d regenerate. Before she had time to form an answer, her father was charging the three pirates.

  “Ye ain’t flamin’ well takin’ her, ye cowardly sods,” Stubby roared at them.

  The three pirates threw themselves out of her father’s way, rolling away and dodging to put the boulders at their backs.

  Ebba ran forward and gripped Stubby’s wrist. “M’hearty,” she said in a hushed voice. “Come back with me now.”

  Stubby glanced over his shoulder. She held his gaze, drawing him back.

  “Ye know what Cannon said,” she said in a low voice, stealing a look to make sure the three pirates were still stuck to the boulders. “He’ll try to control ye all through me. This is naught but a game.”

  “But what if he hurts ye, lass? I won’t let him harm ye.” Stubby closed his eyes, dragging in a breath.

  Cannon had killed Stubby’s father. By separating her from the others, Cannon was digging at old wounds as well as making fresh ones.

  “We be needin’ more inform’tion. I’m goin’ to get it,” she told him firmly, quelling her nerves at the thought. “And if I get hurt, that be on my noggin’, not yers.”

  Stubby blinked at her, and Ebba shifted on the spot, tensing as the other pirates neared again.

  “When did ye get so old?” her father whispered.

  Ebba snorted. “Hard to know, ain’t it?” Crawling through the kraken’s six mouths had aged her ten years
at least. Not to mention the Capricorn’s attack, which probably added fifteen. She was probably as old as some of her fathers by now. Surprising that she still found any enjoyment in life, really.

  “Aye, ye can tell Mutinous that I’d be right chuffed to serve him lunch,” she called to Riot, Swindles, and the pirate who hadn’t spoken.

  The three pirates stood warily, tensed like they expected Stubby to leap at them again. Why were they so skittish? They couldn’t bloody die.

  “Someone’ll be here to collect ye when the wind next howls,” Riot said.

  Ebba frowned. “How can ye know when the wind’ll do that?” Was that how they told time in here?

  Swindles jerked his head to the others. The pirates left without answering her question. As they reached the path, Riot turned. “I’d be rationin’ that food-like. I doubt Cannon’ll be givin’ ye any more.”

  Their laughter echoed around the sheer cliff faces back to her and Stubby long after they’d disappeared back through the boulders, out of sight.

  Stubby approached the black stone case. She did the same and peered down. Inside were three full waterskins, dried seaweed, and raw fish.

  They both sighed.

  “Ah well,” Ebba said, wrinkling her nose. “Could be worse.”

  “Could be cooked by a sulky Peg-leg,” Stubby agreed with a hasty look up to the cave.

  She reached for the handle.

  “Hold on, lass.” Stubby removed his sash, already devoid of weapons. He wrapped the material around her hand. “Just in case they got taint on it.”

  Once done, he rounded the other side and gripped the second handle with his bare hand.

  She threw him a dark look. “Double standard, matey.”

  He shrugged. “Aye, but we already be tainted.”

  “And ye could’ve pulled yer tunic sleeve down, regardless-like,” she shot back.

  Stubby arched a brow at her and let go, tugging down his sleeve to cover his hand before gripping the case once more.

  They heaved the case off the ground together.

  “Heavier than it looks,” Ebba puffed, already thinking of the stairs.

  Stubby grunted.

  Ebba took the harder position, opting to go first and walk backward. “And just so ye know,” she said, slowing as Stubby navigated the first of the steep steps, “I don’t like that ye think just because ye’re tainted that it don’t matter what be happenin’ to ye. It makes me right angry.”

  “Does it?” he panted.

  “Aye, it does,” she snapped. “Ye should want to help yerself.”

  Stubby fell quiet as they struggled up the black stairway.

  “Ye know,” Stubby said between puffs, “we are tryin’, lass. It might not be as quick-like as ye want, but we are. Peg-leg and Locks’ve touched veritas. And afore we were caught, the rest o’ us were goin’ to have a go. What ye said in the rowboat after Felicity sank. Ye were right. We’ve been scared o’ the truth for far too long. And I don’t know how much we can be fixed. But startin’ with the truth seems a right good idea. After that, mayhaps we’ll think o’ sumpin’ else to help us even more.”

  Ebba’s arms burned, but the tightness in her chest wasn’t just from the strain of carrying the heavy case.

  “That means a lot to hear ye say such things.” More than a lot. That her fathers had talked with each other about touching veritas made her feel almost joyful. The decision not to ignore the truth anymore seemed like huge progress.

  “We know ye worry over such things,” he puffed. “Ye always were a worry-wart when it came to us.”

  “That be Grubby’s fault. And it’ll never change,” she replied, reaching the top and stepping back onto the platform so her father could join her.

  Stubby smiled at her, sweat dripping down the side of his face. He peered past her shoulder and spat, “Fat lot o’ help ye all were gettin’ this back up. Should’ve left yer portion down there. Or mayhaps this’ll be all for me and Ebba. Ruddy sea cows.”

  Ebba set her end of the case down with a groan of relief, moving back as Locks and Grubby took over, taking the black stone box farther onto the ledge.

  “Fresh water, seaweed, and fish,” Barrels said, sounding about as excited over that prospect as she and Stubby had been.

  “Raw fish?” Caspian repeated, face falling.

  Jagger selected a fish, bending it in half to split the skin and expose the flesh beneath. “Ye ain’t never had raw fish, Exosian? Too fancy for it, I s’pose.”

  Caspian threw him a withering look and grabbed a fish as well, repeating Jagger’s action. He stared down at the pink flesh, and Ebba could definitely detect a green tinge to his gills.

  Striding forward, she reached for a waterskin and uncorked it, taking several gulps before shaking it in Plank’s face. He blinked and took it after a few seconds, taking one sip before passing it on to Grubby. Anger simmered within her, and she took a few dried pieces of the seaweed, handing two to Plank.

  “Eat,” she said forcefully.

  He lifted his gaze to hers, his eyes searching her face. Movements slow, Plank brought the seaweed to his mouth and took a bite. He’d never been like this in her life. A daydreamer, yes, but barely functioning, no. If he didn’t snap out of it soon, she’d explode. She opened her mouth—

  “What did the tainted pirates say?” Jagger asked.

  Ebba stilled, closing her gob.

  “Would ye like to tell them, Ebba-Viva?” Stubby asked her, an evil glint in his eye.

  Narrowing her eyes at him, she cleared her throat. “Well, they said a few things. And I be fair interested in a couple o’ things they didn’t say.”

  Barrels fixed her with a flat look. “We want the full version, my dear, not the pirate version.”

  The pirate version used to be enough.

  “I was gettin’ to it,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Well, first off, Swindles be lookin’ like he was never healed. I think ye were right about him, Barrels.”

  “I wonder how long it takes for them to regenerate,” Barrels mused. “That we can’t kill them isn’t ideal. But if we seize the right window to strike against Mutinous, then it might aid our escape.”

  “Aye.” Peg-leg hummed. “Though I ain’t even sure how they be tellin’ time here.”

  “They mentioned sumpin’ about collectin’ Ebba when the wind next howled,” Stubby said.

  The ledge quietened.

  Locks faced Stubby. “What be this about collectin’ Ebba?”

  “When the wind howls,” she answered quickly. “Which seems odd-like to me, don’t ye think? It must happen each day at the same time. Or a few times a day. . . .” She trailed off, seeing the rest of her crew weren’t taking the bait.

  “What are they collectin’ ye for?” Jagger demanded, dropping the remains of his raw fish back into the stone case.

  She took another bite of the seaweed and chewed in silence.

  They all waited, though Jagger appeared the closest to exploding, Peg-leg right behind him. Or maybe Jagger would explode and trigger explosions in all the others, like dominoes.

  She swallowed.

  Sink her, they knew enough about her stalling tactics. “Don’t overreact-like, but Cannon wants me to serve him lunch. In-and-out job. I’m goin’ to get intel.” Ebba aimed the last bit at Jagger with a pointed gaze that didn’t appear to have any effect on his simmering rage.

  Crossing to her side, Caspian took her hand and turned to the others. “She can’t go alone.”

  “She,” Ebba cut in with an irritated glare at her friend, “is.”

  Caspian dropped her hand, bewilderment crossing his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you out of the conversation.”

  Ebba’s temper wasn’t only due to him speaking about her rather than to her. Her angst over their relationship was rearing its head. She squeezed his shoulder. “I know. But it be my choice. We need to know more. And I’m thinkin’ that ye know the benefit o’ pretendin’ to be a servant,”
she said.

  He chuckled. “Touché. Though I don’t believe Mutinous will let down his guard, knowing who you actually are. I just don’t want you to be hurt.”

  “It’s a good idea,” Jagger announced.

  Locks took a swig from a waterskin. “Nay, lad. Makin’ ye walk the plank would’ve been a good idea. But not this. I don’t like it. I say we put it to crew vote.”

  They’d vote against her.

  “Nay,” she said, heat creeping into her cheeks. “I’ve already made my mind up. I’m goin’.”

  “Ye can’t just change the votin’ system to suit ye,” Locks countered.

  “Not every choice needs to be a crew decision,” she shot back. “I can be makin’ up my own mind.”

  Stubby whistled, and Locks and she each took a step back.

  “She’s grown, lads,” Stubby said to the others. “Look at her. It’s just like Barrels’ book said. She’s assertin’ herself.”

  “Chapter Twenty-Three: The Crow Leaves the Nest,” Barrels said. “I’d hoped to never see it.”

  Caspian’s lips trembled. “Is this from your How to Raise a Child at Sea book?”

  Her fathers nodded gravely, and Ebba closed her eyes briefly, realizing they were having a weepy co-parenting moment.

  Peg-leg sniffed and half-turned from the group, wiping at his face.

  Stubby cast her a look. “But I’d like to ask everyone to vote on the issue anyhow. Raise yer hand if ye say aye to Ebba goin’.”

  Jagger raised his hand. Barrels sighed and did the same. Stubby added his, then Grubby and Plank. Ebba stared at them, stunned at their vote. She’d expected a blanket nay from the lot of them.

  Stubby punched Locks’ leg, and he grumbled, waving a hand overhead before dropping it. They turned to Peg-leg, who fluttered a hand behind him.

  “I ain’t ready for her to leave the nest,” he choked.

  “I’ll be back in a couple o’ hours,” she said, exasperated. Though an ember of warmth had flickered to life within her at their show of support.

  Ebba had grown up on a ship as the only child. After the Maltu brothel abandonment incident, her fathers had always included her in the voting of major decisions. From that point on, she’d been added to the captain-of-the-month roster too. Since her stint on Malice, they’d actively asked for her opinion. But for them to trust that she was capable of protecting herself through a run-in with Mutinous Cannon, even if they hated her decision, was more than she’d anticipated. Even if they didn’t trust in her capability, they respected that it was her move to make.