Eternal Gambit

by St Clare, Kelly

  Ebba sighed. “At least Mutinous conf’rmed he’ll do anythin’ to keep us free o’ the taint.”

  “We can use it against him when push comes to shove. But I want to know why ye’re sighin’.”

  Why was she sighing? Ebba scowled at him. “I told the whole o’ hell that I love ye last night, and ye haven’t said a soddin’ word about it. Not only that, three times ye’ve acted like kissin’ me and then pulled away. I ain’t a patient woman, Jagger. I ain’t meant to be with a non-kisser. And I don’t understand this new feelin’ any more than ye. But if ye plan on returnin’ whatever this is—or if ye don’t. . . .” Her heart sank into her boots at the thought. “Then ye best be tellin’ me fast. Real fast. ‘Cause there be plenty more fish in the sea.”

  And with that, head held high, she marched double-time for the cave.

  Seventeen

  Ebba waved to her fathers and went straight to the cave to stew in anger. Her temper usually worked itself out pretty quickly, but while raised, the slightest provocation could have it flaring back to full fire.

  She sat just inside the cave entrance, resting back in the shadows, and imagined all the ways Jagger could have said the right thing back there. Male pirates were idiots, and Ebba was glad she’d never decided to be one.

  “What did ye do?” she heard Locks demand.

  Jagger replied, “Nothin’.”

  Nothing. Exactly.

  ‘I can work with hate.’

  ‘Makes me never want to look away.’

  I’m a pirate with muscles and big survival know-how.

  Sink her, the amare chose her a bloody dud. Or if not a dud, then someone who was playing with her heart. Which made him an even bigger dud. There’d be no more of these boulder dalliances. She’d said her piece. The seaweed was in his net.

  “But sumpin’ did happen,” Jagger said.

  Blimey, his voice even sounded like muscles and survival know-how.

  She listened as he repeated the occurrences of the day. And then after, as her fathers discussed what it all meant and ended up in the same place as she and the dud had.

  “Were you speaking to my father earlier?” Caspian asked. “We watched from here.”

  Her fathers were silent, which meant Caspian had filled them in on Montcroix’s presence.

  “Aye, I met him,” Jagger said after a beat.

  “He jumped into the stream.”

  “Aye, I told him to.”

  Caspian didn’t speak immediately. “He admitted to killing your parents.”

  “He did. I told him that wasn’t enough. That I’d be takin’ the payment from ye unless he jumped in the water.”

  “And he jumped?” Caspian sounded like he’d run a mile.

  Jagger sounded bored. “He did.”

  She could imagine the bafflement on Caspian’s face.

  He spoke again. “Did he say why he did kill your parents?”

  Ebba held her breath, waiting to see if Jagger would be cruel or kind.

  “A misunderstandin’,” he said shortly.

  In the dark, she smiled. The amare had chosen her a sensitive dud.

  “He deserved that,” Caspian said. “For what he did to your parents and to you.”

  Jagger’s voice wavered. “That he did.”

  “We’ve thought o’ what we want ye to put on the note, Jagger,” Stubby said.

  Ebba exited the cave at that and sat on a rock on the ledge just outside it. “What are we tellin’ Matey?”

  Stubby glanced at her. “Jagger stole parchment from the ship, but it be tainted, so we’re sacrificin’ him to write the note because he be the immune an’ all.”

  That was outrageous. Ebba forced her temper back.

  “I volunteered,” Jagger told her.

  She shrugged. “Yer soul.” But it wasn’t just his.

  Plank squinted at her. Still squinting, he walked to her. “What happened to yer eyes?” he asked.

  “I had to touch the purgium. It took some o’ my eye color.” She bit her lip.

  “Ye were hurt?”

  “Tainted. Just a scant bit.”

  Her fathers fell silent.

  “Does it look all right?” she asked Plank.

  “Aye, I can barely look away, little nymph.”

  Her father had great style. With his approval, Ebba was officially okay about the new addition. The others lined up to gawk at her. Then they all gathered around Jagger, who’d poured some water onto the black stone to turn the dirt there into mud.

  “What d’ye want it to say?” Jagger asked.

  “We want a picture,” Plank said.

  Jagger cast him a flat look.

  “Yeah, draw us a pretty picture, lad,” Locks said.

  Grubby smiled. “Ye can do it.”

  “We just want to let him know we’re in here and alive,” Barrels said. “Draw the entrance, with an arrow pointing outward, and then him waiting on the other side by the rocky path. Maybe draw a seal, too.”

  Jagger shook his head. “Just how well do ye think I can draw?”

  “Who drew yer tattoos?” she asked, then battled the desire to groan. Sometimes she wished her temper lasted longer. She wasn’t supposed to be talking to the dud.

  He dug his finger into the mud and traced a curved line on the paper. “My tribe mother and my sisters.”

  He had sisters?

  Caspian smiled. “Sisters. Good in small doses.”

  Jagger flashed him a grin. “Aye to that. Though they taught me to keep light on my toes for fear they’d catch me.”

  “Older sisters then, I take?”

  The pirate nodded, digging his finger into the mud again. Ebba hated that he was touching the tainted paper. They shouldn’t be taking advantage of the fact he was the immune. He could still catch the taint. They had no idea how long it had taken Jagger to beat back the evil each time and what doing so did to the pirate. “Four older sisters and five older brothers. Two younger brothers, too.”

  Grubby whistled. “Is yer father a selkie?”

  It was a valid question. Eleven children was a . . . lot of tea.

  Jagger snorted. “Nay, only four of them be children o’ my parents. In a tribe, orphans are taken in by the chief and chieftess. Most are adopted, though they be treated just the same as blood kin.” He sat back, holding the parchment up. “There.”

  Stubby peered at it. “Ye drew a sun? Nay, nay, that be the start of Davy Jones’. I see it now.”

  Barrels looked and cleared his throat politely.

  “It can’t be that bad,” Ebba said with a grin. A quick glance told her otherwise. Lack of drawing skills was good, though; sometimes Jagger seemed invincible.

  “But maybe the picture will make sense to Matey?” Caspian said weakly.

  The crew chorused a groan. Matey wasn’t exactly the sleekest ship in the seas. No way would he understand the drawing.

  “Ye draw it next time,” Jagger shot, rolling the parchment up.

  Plank uncorked an empty waterskin and shook it upside down to dislodge the lingering droplets. “Any note will serve to tell him we’re alive.”

  Jagger shoved the rolled parchment inside and recorked the skin, tossing it in the black case.

  “Is that another group comin’ back from the entrance?” Peg-leg asked, pointing.

  They all turned.

  “Surely not,” Barrels said. “There are at least thirty there.”

  He was right. So many.

  Jagger came to stand beside her. “I be thinkin’ it be the new inmates. Cannon was happy so many were arrivin’.”

  “It was odd-like,” Ebba added. “They all be tainted, so they’ll end up on the pirate side. Yet Cannon seemed happy about that, didn’t he, even though he wants everyone who isn’t tainted to remain free o’ it?” she asked Jagger, who dipped his head, silver eyes far away.

  They watched the group trail down the passage stairs.

  “Stubby, show a leg. We’re headin’ down to listen,” Plan
k said, slapping her other father on the shoulder.

  Stubby startled. “What? We are?”

  “Aye, time for the oldies to lend a hand figurin’ this all out, methinks.”

  Ebba smiled, not at the banter but at Plank’s motivation. She’d worried after he touched the sword that it was a terrible mistake, but he’d been nothing but determined since.

  Stubby didn’t seem convinced.

  “Listen up,” Plank said, pushing his raven curls back. “This is for the old people up here.”

  “Wise people,” Locks muttered.

  Plank’s glare shut him up. “We stood afore our worst fear not many days ago. Sumpin’ none o’ us ever thought to do. And since then, we’ve hidden up here, lettin’ the younger legs do all the work. It be time to get busy, lads. We’re still a crew. And we said we’d never be the kind o’ parents to shirk their duty. I know that in years to come, none o’ us will be dependin’ on Ebba to fight our battles. We fight the battles beside her. And that be includin’ now. We might’ve stood afore Cannon, but we’ve been right scared into inaction the last few days.”

  Ebba wasn’t alone in staring at him in bewilderment. That was . . . quite the speech.

  “Where did that come from, matey?” Peg-leg inquired.

  Plank busied himself tucking in his tunic. “Ebba ain’t goin’ to say that her fathers didn’t lift a finger to help. We set the ex’mple. We be the strength that she can always come back to.”

  Barrels was the next to venture a comment. “Did you eat seaweed this mornin’, Plank?”

  “Aye.”

  Turning to them, Barrels asked, “Did anyone else eat the seaweed?”

  They all chorused ‘aye.’

  “That was my only theory.” The eldest of her fathers shrugged.

  “Are ye comin’ or what?” Plank shot at Stubby. “They’re nearly at the start o’ the main path.”

  “Okay, okay,” Stubby replied, getting to his feet. “I’m comin’. Not sure who died and made ye captain, though.”

  Plank was already at the steps. “We’ll get as close as we can to the ship to see what’s bein’ said. We’ll be back when we can.”

  There was a reason Ebba was happy to do the grunt work, and that was because she didn’t want anyone else to do it.

  “Walk on tiptoes,” she called after them, following her fathers to the top of the steps. “Be careful down the stairs.”

  Jagger groaned. “They be grown men. Why’re ye after them like that?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered, turning back. “Always been that way.”

  Grubby approached and tucked her into his side. “Ye fret worse than me.”

  Ebba shuddered. “Aye, it ain’t my favorite thing when we split up.” Never had been, never would be. She stayed hugging Grubby and watched the new contingent of damned shuffle into hell.

  “Something is bothering me,” Caspian announced, massaging the left side of his chest.

  Locks chucked the remains of his fish into the black case. “Spit it out then, man. Announcin’ ye’re bothered is a waste of time.”

  Barrels glanced around. “You have somewhere else to be?”

  Locks’ expression softened, and Barrels groaned. “Forget I asked.”

  “No, I’m really bothered by something,” Caspian repeated, pacing now, still massaging his chest.

  Ebba untangled herself from Grubby, alarm shooting through her. “Is yer arm painin’ ye?” He couldn’t be tainted, could he? He hadn’t come into contact with anything, unless being in the middle of all those pirates during the meeting with Cannon was enough.

  “What?” He came to a halt, blinking at her. “Oh, no. You know I always feel my arm is there. I must’ve slept on that side last night.”

  “Yer missin’ arm be achin’?” Jagger asked, lips quirking.

  Caspian shot him an arch look. “I know. Like it wasn’t enough the purgium took the arm in the first place.”

  No bitterness stung the comment, however.

  “So what be botherin’ ye?” Ebba asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  Locks grumbled, “When ye do, let us know. Until then—”

  Caspian resumed his pacing. “Talk again,” he demanded.

  “Aye, King Caspian,” Jagger snorted, but he seemed intrigued by Caspian’s sudden fervor. “What would ye like to hear?”

  “Tell me again what Cannon said today,” Caspian answered, gripping his forehead. “Replay the conversation.”

  Ebba and Jagger shared a glance.

  Jagger took the rudder. “We walked in, and Cannon hadn’t seen us. Riot was reportin’ about the trip to the entrance.”

  “Cannon was right pissy. He was choking Riot. He said sumpin’ like, ‘Four. That ain’t enough,’” she added.

  “That ain’t fast enough,” Jagger corrected.

  She nodded. “That was it. Four ain’t fast enough.”

  Peg-leg rubbed his knee, frowning. “The only part that be makin’ sense is that he was chokin’ Riot. That be the Mutinous we know and hate.”

  “Exactly!” Caspian said. “Mutinous is violent.”

  “Have ye figured it out then, matey?” Locks asked.

  “Keep talking,” was the order.

  Ebba thought back. “He seemed about ready to kill Riot when Swindles came up and said thirty had arrived. All tainted. And that their side’d be burstin’.”

  “Cannon repeated it and was pleased enough to let Riot scamper away,” Jagger said, leaning forward on the rock he sat upon, watching the royal. “What’s in yer head?”

  Caspian answered, “Something big. On the tip of my tongue. Ebba, talk.”

  She stared at him. “What about now?”

  “He healed you. That.”

  This was strange. But Caspian willingly read books and such, so his strangeness was no secret. “Pockmark ran into me. Well, I ran into him because I didn’t want to watch yer father . . . well, die. Pockmark seemed inclined-like to hide what he’d done at first.”

  Jagger scowled. “He was right afraid. But he fired his pistol and brought other pirates runnin’.”

  “Pockmark’s afraid. Mutinous wants to keep us untainted,” Caspian muttered, now tugging at his russet curls.

  Barrels glanced at the seaweed and then at Caspian. “Everyone else feel okay?” he ventured.

  Ebba neared Caspian, hovering just out of the trajectory of his frenzied pacing. “I was talkin’ to Cannon. I didn’t want him to know we be aware he’s keepin’ us safe on purpose for his plan.”

  Caspian froze and turned to her. He lunged and gripped her forearm. “Safe on purpose.”

  “And so I pretended I thought we were just ent’ertainin’—”

  “Enough,” he said.

  Ebba cut off. Sink her, he was a bit scary when he thought too hard. What had she once said? He’d put too many mangoes in his basket. Now they were falling out.

  “Safe on purpose. Bursting with bad.” Caspian tapped his forehead roughly, bending at the waist. “He wants it to burst. He’s angry it’s not bursting. It’s not bursting fast enough.”

  Jagger and Barrels bolted to their feet, and Ebba shared a baffled look with the others.

  Caspian straightened, grinning in a triumphant way she’d never seen before.

  “The thunderbird,” he declared.

  Jagger whooped and Barrels was laughing.

  Locks stood, his color changing from red to purple. “If ye don’t tell me what’s botherin’ ye right now, I’ll cut off yer other arm.”

  Apparently unfazed, Caspian crossed to him, clapping Locks on the shoulder. “Do you remember the thunderbird?”

  Of course they all remembered. He was a power of oblivion who’d nearly killed them by creating a monster storm.

  “He didn’t want to let Jagger live, but when he discovered we were assembling the root that could destroy the pillars, he hesitated. He said that his job was to maintain balance in the abyss.”

  Jagger was gr
inning, too. “The abyss that was fillin’ with twisted souls.”

  Barrels pointed at Ebba. “You were the one who asked him if there were more bad souls because of the pillars.”

  She couldn’t recollect, but the words sounded vaguely familiar. “So the abyss he was speakin’ o’ is actually Davy Jones’ Locker? This place?”

  Caspian crossed to her. “Yes! But the rest is more important. I cannot recall his exact words, but the thunderbird said as light souls fly, the space where he contains cruelty expands. That if the light souls do not come to him, the space in the abyss would run out.”

  “And darkness would roam free,” Jagger and Barrels chorused.

  Caspian turned to all of them. “I thought the thunderbird was referring to the darkness already spreading. He wasn’t. He spoke of the balance of light souls and dark souls in the afterlife dissolving. Of hell itself bursting open for the damned to be set loose on the realm.”

  She was following now. “Shite,” she whispered.

  Jagger frowned. “Cannon needs us to be untainted within the Locker, though. That must upset the balance even more, having light in a place where only darkness is meant to reside. That’s why he gets so angry if the pirates come near us. That’s why he’s protectin’ us in this cave. If we become tainted, we’re o’ no use to him.”

  Peg-leg stopped rubbing his knee. “But why keep the damned across the stream untainted?”

  Ebba chipped in. “Because they ain’t all bad. There be light in them too. I saw it with the sword. At least, that be my guess.”

  “It could be,” Barrels answered, beaming.

  Ebba’s skull hurt. “How does knowin’ this help us? If bein’ light helps him, bein’ dark would hinder him, aye? But I ain’t gettin’ tainted on purpose.”

  “Because we know something he doesn’t,” Caspian said, lifting his chin.

  She looked up at him, heart hammering under her ribs.

  Caspian glanced at her fathers. “Most of your fathers are still tainted. And so is Jagger. Or at least we have no idea if he’s completely rid of the taint yet. If we’re the centerpiece of Cannon’s plan to break hell open, then he has already lost.”

  Eighteen

  Ebba dangled her legs over the ledge, the cave at her back and her eyes fixed on the path below for a sighting of Stubby and Plank. The wind had howled about half an hour ago. She’d give them another little bit and then go looking. She didn’t like them being gone for so long.