The Bones of Broken Songs: A Historical Mystery Romance (Mortalsong Trilogy Book 2)

by J. M. Stredwick

  “I didn’t think you’d escape what with us trapping you in,” he hisses with mirth. “Alas, we are all subject to disappointments. Truthfully, now that you’re here, I’m glad it has come to this. I’ve missed you. All these years I’ve wondered, sought after you. Seems we’re all chasing one another.”

  I swallow, lumps of curse words caught like a string of beads down my throat.

  I glance at Claire, noticing that she’s being held by one of his men. She stays silent, appearing to be unshaken. Her eyes flash darkly as if recoiling against the danger, ignoring it. We meet gazes and I see her chest tighten as she takes in a rigid breath. We both know what this means. This is what we’ve always said could ruin us. This is the end game of our search for Gianna, the end of my secret dreams for immortality. If he has us, we’ve been crushed to dust.

  “Why are you here?” I ask him.

  “I assumed you much smarter than this,” he says. “I thought when you saw them, you’d know for sure.”

  “Them?” I question, irritation rippling through me. But then I know, it hits me subtly at first, then grasps me.

  “They’re your doing, then?” I offer up testily.

  “I shall allow you your answers since I am in no hurry. And, it seems to me that you are in a rather fretful predicament. Washed up like a dog…Heaven help you. Taken by your enemy, no less. And I am your enemy. Never forget that. It is a pity, you were once among the gloried…” he chuckles, and his men chortle along with him, jagged black laughter.

  “Once,” he crows, throwing his arms up theatrically, “Once you were a prince on the cusp of immortality. Now, you are a bedraggled, stinking, rotting corpse.”

  He leans forward, grapples me by my scalp. The urge to reach for my rapier and stick him through is immediate, the coursing of bloodlust high in my mind.

  “How does it feel to know that you will never return? What you were…what you are now…you will never exist again. All because you chose the wrong side of this war. Here is your answer: yes. Long ago I abetted the creation of Sidra. She was never meant to be this…and ever since I have been searching for the piece of the puzzle that could correct this mistake in her design. What we wanted, all that we want, is to correct this disastrous rift. Humans are weak, pathetic, pointless. But immortals…creatures of magic?” He smiles as if lit from the inside by insidious fairies.

  “We will right this world,” he nods affirmatively. “These creatures will go out and abolish the corrupt edifice of mankind.”

  I cannot speak. I’d only dreamed to have his motives explained to me. I recall many a time sitting in my Captain’s quarters pondering this very thing as the wax on the candles dripped down and I mindlessly toyed with my sextant; I was obsessive. This curiosity strikes me viciously, and I look down at the green padded jungle floor. Does Claire see my aching? Thirst for what he aims after consumes me.

  “You’ll never accomplish this,” Claire hisses at him. A feral cat.

  “Shut your mouth dearie, you’re prettier when you don’t talk.”

  Gia

  “Gia.”

  I jerk after a few blinks of adjustment to the light, noticing that he is so close to me, watching with an impervious look to his face.

  I lie in my dubbed space on the floor, and he lays beside me. His legs are straightened beside mine, and he leans on his elbow as if he has been relaxing here watching me sleep for hours. On his face is a lilt of amusement; like a mischievous boy who holds a divine secret. His eyes alight with candor.

  “Would you like to swim?” he asks excitedly.

  I wince against the strain of the early morning. I glance towards the window and see that the sun is still a blue haze of partiality, hidden beyond the horizon.

  “What?”

  “We should leave now. Wear only your shift. You’ll thank me later.”

  I am aghast. I lift myself to a seated position, wrapping a hand around the arm I had been laying on. The ground has proven uncomfortable to my body, having been so accustomed to plush bedding and a down mattress. I find that I am now stiff and sore upon waking.

  “I didn’t give you permission to lay beside me.”

  I feel that my voice is shrilly, and I bundle the blankets up in my hands, pulling them up over my legs. He has not shown me such attention since our embrace in his treasure room a few nights before. I feel a dull ache in my head from the fission of my sudden sleep to wake; his burning closeness.

  “I was bored…waiting for you to wake up,” he laughs, running a hand through his wild hair. “You were peaceful.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that that is entirely unnerving?” I snap.

  “No but perhaps that is because I’ve never done it to anyone else,” he laughs loudly, and jumps lightly to his feet.

  He leans forward, swaggering with arrogance, and holds out a hand to me. He knows I will comply. But, do I have any other option? The day's flow has brought me here. For some reason, he reminds me of the boys I used to play with in our small town. We would sneak away like this, letting the press of heat scour us as we fumbled through the brambles to our hideouts that were amply stocked with all manners of play. Dolls, wooden swords, shields, scarves, slingshots…the memory warms me and I think: how odd for him to incite this feeling in me as it is so oddly nostalgic. Yet, he is no boy. And I am no young girl.

  “Come. We will go alone.”

  “That is supposed to entice me?” My brows raise.

  “Humor me?”

  The way he says this, it strikes a softness within me. His face is so hard, so stormed by the years at sea and weathered by the iron cast of leadership. He is an unknowing creature, starry-eyed and boyish, hidden within the bones, muscles, callousness, of a man. At least, this is what I imagine him to be when I see glimpses of him that support this theory.

  “We’re going alone?” I mumble.

  “Is that alright with you?” He glances back at me, his brows upturned till a roguish wink appears. “I won’t bite.”

  “I do not fear you,” I say silkily, and in my mind: Even if you cannot die.

  We make our way out of the manse. He feigns a secretive attitude. He receives an admonishing expression in response and releases me. No doubt the servants and guards ignore us, letting him do as he pleases. Perhaps he has done so before with a different woman. I would not be surprised. Not with the look of him, his broad chest, the gold skin…I am sure for some sullied woman he would be the epitome of enticement.

  He leads me through trees of differing thickness, some with fruits, some with great blooms. The smells are overwhelmingly saccharine, so sweet that it is intoxicating. I stop to smell a bloom and let its fuchsia petals touch my cheek. It is like paper thin velvet when it touches me, and I can only revel in the sensation.

  As we plunge deeper into the jungle, I begin to hear the rustling of water. When we stumble out from beyond the tree line, I am delighted. There is a small waterfall spilling over a lip of hillside into a vast stone bowl of earth. The water is glassy blue, and I can see a heavenly kaleidoscope of rocks at the bottom. It is deep and yet I want to dive down below and lay at its bottom, watching the refracted sunlight pierce through. All around us is verdant green, lumbering vines, fan leaves, and mossy grounds.

  I do not realize it until I note to look at him again, but he has been watching me. He quickly averts his eyes, stepping forward to breathe in the solitude.

  He begins to strip himself of his linen shirt. His skin glows. I sigh, feeling weak and lazy in the sun and warmth of the world around me. I had put my dress on over my shift, and it is always hot this way. There is no way for a proper woman to be cool in this portion of the world.

  Benjamin looks over his shoulder and holds out his hand.

  I wish that I did not think him so exotically handsome. I wish that I could turn off the pings of excitement inside me upon seeing his naked chest and stomach. I wish, passionately, that I could impress upon him that he has no effect upon me, none whatsoever. But he can
see the mutual attraction in my hungry eyes. He knows that I kissed him back that night before. He can sense the impending sensualities that writhe between us, that urge our bodies to join. It is carnality pushing us together.

  “No,” I say, and a laugh peals out of me.

  “No?” he repeats, smirking, “No?”

  He comes to me and hauls me over his shoulder. I laugh loudly as he carries me to the water.

  “Stop! Stop!” I am hysterical.

  Before I can do much more, he tosses me into the blue water below. I flounder for a moment, my gown heavy and weighing me down. It is a moment before he realizes that my gown is too heavy for me to float in, and he dives in and hooks me around the waist before I am swallowed by the blue and pulls me to a rock where I can sit. I breathe heavily. He takes a knife from his trousers.

  “Be still.”

  He cuts the bodice and skirt off of me, and it peels away like a second skin. The sopping mass of it is pitched to the side and instantly I feel free. He sends his knife off to where he’d left his shirt and it sticks in the ground. He then pushes himself off of the rock, propelling himself backward through the water. It glides over him, and he smiles at me. He is so free.

  I am painfully aware of my body, the way the water drips from me; causes my white shift to cling in places. He smiles more because of this. I send a splash of water over him as I step into the shallows.

  “Don’t look at what you cannot have,” I say over the noise of the water.

  His smile widens at this, and he just chuckles.

  “Who says I cannot have you?” he defies and swims off towards the waterfall.

  “I do,” I rage, suddenly flushed with embarrassment.

  I watch him slice underwater. He is accustomed to swimming. I, however, am not. I can do just enough to keep myself afloat, to maneuver myself about slowly, but that is the extent of it. We allow ourselves this space, and he swims laps beneath the falls. I watch him from my place near the shallows. I soak in the sun and the water that laps at my body. I breathe deeply, and when I am finished in the water, I drag myself out and fall back on the ground, eyes shut and feeling entirely spent.

  Benjamin pulls himself up beneath the falls and shakes his head like a dog as it hits him. He wipes his face and returns. He plants himself beside me, back arched forward with his arms lank over his knees.

  “I come out here every few days. It is one of the more pleasant places to be on this Island,” he confides.

  “I can see why. It is beautiful.”

  The squawking of birds punctuates our silence.

  “It is a pity that you can enjoy yourself so fully while you have men suffering in your jailhouse,” I add.

  He bristles when I say this.

  “Why do you care so much?” His eyes grow narrow.

  “Why don’t you?”

  He sighs raggedly, flexing his hands out as if to say that he does not know. But it seems that he does know, he just does not want to express these things to me.

  “It is not that simple,” his tone is curt.

  “Then please,” I reach out a hand and grip his arm. “Enlighten me.”

  He is reluctant to be speaking of this now. I can tell that he wants only harmony between us, to be playful and continue our flirtations, but I cannot ignore these questions. They haunt me.

  “They are a means to an end,” he says. “I could never kill an innocent.”

  “And you think that they deserve death, simply because they are not innocent by your standards?” I scoff. “What gives you the right to choose who lives and who dies?”

  He holds his ground, stretching out as if he is indifferent to my words. But we both know the effect I have upon him. I want to press my will into his, force him to explain himself because I know so surely that there is more beyond, that he has secrets to expel.

  “I do not choose,” he says, gesturing sharply. “The alternative would be far worse. This lessens the damages…”

  His words chill me in my laid back, heady, state. What alternative? What damages? I struggle to connect his words to what we are speaking of. His wet hair rests in waves about his head, strands settled against his sunburnt forehead. He reminds me of some foreign prince of thieves. What if I had met him in natural society? What if he was not this person, not leading a life of ruin? What if we’d met at one of the town dances? He would never fit in that space. Not in that scene.

  “I know that it makes no sense to you…But, I will not elaborate.”

  “How noble of you,” my sarcasm is thick.

  He sits upright, dark eyes daggering my own, “If you only knew…if I could explain…”

  “Then do.”

  “I can’t, Gia. You would think me mad.”

  We are mere inches away, both of us riled into aggressive stances. His eyes dilute from fierce to challenging. He glances down at my mouth. His expression softens, and he backs away, looking out at the waters, ever so mystified.

  “Have you thought of my offer?” he utters.

  I want to laugh. Not for happiness, but for the madness of him.

  “You’re asking that now? Right now?” I am sardonic.

  “No time like the present.”

  I am shocked. His words batter me. I drag a hand through my hair. My hairline is moist from swimming and the humidity. I feel that I will never know him, he will never tell me the truth, and how can one ever long for a relationship with one who obscures the truth of who they are from the other? That would be no type of relationship I would want. Would it be better to marry out of duty, to fulfill a familial connection, rather than enter a union with a man of covert enterprises? I will tell him the truth.

  “I will not be bought. Your gold and jewels mean nothing to me. Aside from that, I will never be with someone who doesn’t show me their authentic self.”

  He sits back again, nodding as if he understands. Again, he is perfunctory.

  “I do not blame you,” he speaks stiffly. “I would never force you. Just know that I plan to change things.”

  “I don’t care,” I snap.

  The air between us is tense. The bird inside me flutters against the cage of my chest, and I swallow. Everything about him is delectable to me. I have to keep my stone mask strong. I’m if it fell he’d recognize my desire. We are near still, and in this moment, I imagine I can feel him, glide my hands over his chest and stomach, over his arms and against his thighs. I have not felt this, not for anyone.

  Everything is wrong. What he does, the way he lives, the way he acts, it is all wrong. But everything is right in the way my body sings for his. This desire, the way it teases my senses and implores new sensations, it occludes the rest of my better decision making.

  “Why can’t you tell me these things I want to know? I am asking you. I will take what you tell me as truth. I will not pass you off as mad.”

  He tilts his head.

  “If you knew…”

  He smiles in a way that makes me think it pains him.

  “Tell me,” I urge.

  “I will tell you…in time. I give you my word, on my honor as a man, and as a Pirate. I don’t want to talk with you about this until you are safe.”

  “Safe?” I laugh. “I know that I’m not safe here. There will never be a safe time.”

  He leans forward, smiling broadly.

  “There will be a day when I am able to explain it all. But for now, let’s just struggle against ourselves, shall we?”

  I want to slap him and draw him close. Were men born to irritate and entice us? From who he is with me, I see no evidence of Brother Death. Shall I give in to this splitting feeling that quakes my insides? I keep thinking, keeping telling myself that I am the one with the power over him. Truly, it is he who wields this power over me. I hate myself for this. For being so weak. But my bones shiver with excitement, my skin tender and aching to be touched.

  He seats himself again, staring off at the glittering water.

  I draw myself closer to him
, holding the hem of my shift in my hands as I move towards him on my knees. He looks up confusedly and holds out an arm to guide me gently to him. I lift my leg over his lap and seat myself atop him, astride. His face is fixed with intense curiosity, and he is dazed by my actions. I sink into him, wrapping my arms around his neck. His arms encircle me tightly as if he will never release me. We stay this way, tangled, wet, and fused.

  “What is this feeling?” I whisper, so engrossed by his body, the spiced scent of him.

  “Gia…” It is a growling plea.

  “Why is it this way between us?” I ask him, unwelcome tears bristling my lashes, “Why do I want you so badly?”

  He presses his forehead against mine, and we breathe together. He puts the tip of his finger against my lips and drags it down. It lingers on my chin. His body encompasses me, the warmth of him mounting the hellish cold having settled there, rewriting my frame of mind.

  “We are something that cannot be explained.” His voice echoes in my mind. There are things that cannot be explained.

  “Ours is a connection that surpasses all else. Even in death, we’ll follow the other.”

  Benjamin discloses this to me as if it were an unbreakable truth. Something about the words settles in me as honest. I cannot refute it, not even if I tried. I think that I must have known him sometime before this, before I was myself now. Perhaps in a different universe, a different world, a different story. I think that the Island and the skies, even time, if it all crashed around us, we would remain connected. We would always know each other, even if we did not have these faces. Our souls would find a way to unite.

  “I am demented.”

  “Not as much as you might think,” he chuckles, and his warm breath hits my face.

  He hesitates before he does it, gentle in the way he tilts my head to greet his. Our mouths join in supple connection. I bite back a groan of delight, and I flex my back. He grapples about my neck, thumbs caressing my jaw as he tastes me. He tugs at my hair. I want this, I want him. All I know is this. Shall we accept this, bring our bodies into mutual understanding? I have never known a man before in this way. Part of me is afraid, and another part, the secret part of me, revels in the ecstasy of what will come. There are no walls, no misunderstanding. I feel this is a challenge, and I will succeed.