"Aw, Cap!"
"Should we be worried?" Jo continued as the crew followed Katherine back to camp to better examine the treasure.
"Nothing has been hostile."
"Yet. Perhaps regular patrols?"
"I've a couple suspicions. But for now, we'll just wait and see. After everything we've been through of late, I've no desire to plant a seed of worry in their heads. They're relaxing and enjoying themselves for the first time in weeks. I want this to last as long as possible."
*~*~*
Two days later, Maddie and Franky returned from a stroll—Harry took one look at the state of their hair and read between the lines—to announce they'd found a splendid cave that would be perfect for a storage room.
"The stream curves right up to it, but the cave itself is higher up on this little hill," Maddie explained earnestly as they led the way back, following the markers they'd cut into the bark of the palm trees. "The floor is a little sandy, but the rock looks solid and there's no damp or dripping inside, and it's not too awful big. Just the right size for a few barrels. And I bet we could rig up a door or something to secure it, so animals couldn't get insi—"
The sentence was cut off when she ran smack into Franky's back, teeth clicking down on the tip of her tongue. "Owwww," she mumbled, putting a hand to her mouth. "I think it's bleeding."
"Shhh!" Franky gestured sharply, shoulders tensing, and the group immediately crouched into the undergrowth, hands reaching for an assortment of blades and pistols. "Hear that?" he whispered, looking sharply to Harry.
It was just audible over the rushing of the stream a mere few feet ahead: a dragging sort of sound, as if something heavy was being pulled across the rocks. Her chipped sword in hand, Harry crept forward, reaching out her left arm to push back the leaves.
There was a loud splash—she even felt the spray on her face as she rushed forward. The rocks glistened dark and slick in the dappled sunlight, but nothing surfaced from the churning water. Raising her gaze, she saw the cave, maybe thirty feet further up at the head of a sloping incline.
And lying at its mouth was a sword: a far finer weapon than the one she currently held. The blade had been recently honed into a deadly sharpness and the basket hilt was polished to a mirror gleam. It fit her hand snugly, well-balanced and beautiful, with a faint, yet indecipherable, design etched into one side of the steel.
"Another present?" Jo said dryly, eying the strange, wide drag marks in the dirt that stretched from the stream all the way to where the sword had been left. "No, don't tell me: a woman in the river threw it to you and said you're the one true king of England."
"I have no idea what you just said, but I'm sure it was scathing and pithy," said Harry.
"It was a reference to the classic Arthurian legend, dear," Miss Euphemia volunteered cheerfully with a twirl of her parasol. Why she carried the thing no one knew; it was dotted with so many holes it no longer performed its intended function. "According to balladeers, the Lady of the Lake presented Arthur with a magical sword, signaling that he was indeed the prophesized king who would unite..."
While the schoolteacher-turned-scribe nattered on matter-of-factly to Katherine and Wilhelmina, who both nodded and ahhed politely, and the others examined the cave under Maddie's urging, Harry made a few experimental swings and stabbing motions. "This is a very nice blade."
Jo sighed.
"What?" Harry demanded.
"You and your toys," the first mate clarified, crossing her arms. "You don't even care where it came from, do you?"
"No. Because I know where it came from."
"Oh? Do share."
"Same place that treasure chest came from. Obviously. And people think you've the brains in this partnership," Harry teased. "Nessa?"
"Yes?"
"Just give me a rough estimate. How many wrecks do you think we dodged sailing into the cove?"
"I've seen three for sure, Captain, but there's no doubt more. The reef system is a sprawling one and there are some sharp dips into crevasses."
"See, Jo? There's a plethora of shipwrecks to choose from. Someone's just been raiding old holds, that's all. And how's that map coming along, Nessa?"
"Lizzie and I have covered the immediate area and we're relatively certain we've marked down the truly dangerous spots. Once the repairs are done, sailing out and back in shouldn't be a problem."
"Glad to hear it—did you think I was sending them out in that lifeboat every morning on pleasure cruises?" Harry asked Jo, experimentally hanging the sword from her belt. She liked the way it looked on her hip. "I hope I'm the sort of captain that plans ahead and has her crew's best interests at heart."
"I never doubted you," said Jo woodenly.
"Ooh, you know better than to tell lies, Josephine," Harry grinned. "Lying is sinning and we all know how Jesus feels about that. C'mon, sweetie, buck up! Why are you being such a curmudgeon?"
"I would just prefer to know what's going on, rather than accept a bunch of mysterious gifts blindly, without a single question."
"Oh, I've got plenty of questions. And I'll get answers soon enough. For now, let's take a gander at this fine cave that Mad and the boy found us. Yup, that sure is a nice cave. Very cave-like. Well done, you two. Champion cave finders, you are. Alright, everybody, back to the beach."
When everyone, Jo included, had filed past and disappeared into the jungle greenery, Harry hesitated beside the stream.
"I'd like to meet whoever's been so kind to me and mine," she said loudly, voice ringing out clear into the sudden stillness. "After all these gifts, I'd feel downright rotten if I didn't at least thank you properly. I'd just like an introduction, that's all. Say... down at the lagoon tonight? At dusk? I'll be there, anyway, because I rather fancy another swim."
Then she turned on her heel with a jaunty whistle and set off back to camp.
*~*~*
He should be conflicted, and indecisive, and hesitant to do as she asked.
Instead, he felt rather giddy. Harry was a clever one, and struck him as a person of honor. His overtures of friendship had been accepted, and it would only be right for him to now present himself for her inspection. He had a vague and hazy recollection of such rituals; he knew there was a certain order to the way a male won the approval of a female, and ceremonies that must be observed if he wanted to formally join a new pod.
Because that was what he wanted: to be an acknowledged part of Harry's pod. There were things he could provide them, ways he could prove himself a productive and worthwhile podmate. He could share his knowledge of the island and its reefs, and he could lead them to all of its sunken treasures. He could teach them how to speak to the dolphins and seals that frolicked in the kelp fields, and how to swim among the flat-bellied sharks without fear, and show them the best fishing spots. He could warn them of ill weather, or if other pods with hostile auras were approaching.
Speaking of...
Near the lagoon, there was a small patch of sand surrounded by large, nigh insurmountable rocks on three sides and the ocean on the fourth—it was here that he'd taken to sunning himself during the day, confident that none of Harry's pod would stumble across him without warning. He usually wriggled into the wet, warm sand until most of his body was covered in it, crossed his arms behind his head, and snoozed away the hottest part of the day, lulled by the lapping of the water over the fan of his tail and the squawking of the parrots in the trees behind him.
But today, there was something on the air. A smell of fresh smoke that did not come from campfires. It was the smell of recently-fired cannons and guns, of those odd things humans put in their mouths in order to breathe out smoke like a volcano.
He straightened and pushed himself up from the comfortable sand, body tensing with alertness. Now he could hear it: another ship. Rigging and sails and the creaking of old wood. Shouts of anger and violence. It was not far away, and coming closer—he may not see it yet with his eyes, but he saw it plainly enough with his ears.
With a sharp twist, he splashed into the shallows. He would go out to this strange ship and take its measure. He had time before his appointed meeting with Harry.
*~*~*
The sky was just beginning to purple when Harry dipped her legs into the water. Unlike certain other pirates, she was a woman of her word. If she made a promise, she kept it, and she couldn't abide those who were late to appointments.
Still, dusk was a rather uncertain time. A transitional period. More of an hour than a precise minute. She could be patient for a while and just enjoy the paradise her crew was already beginning to feel proprietary about.
Most people thought Harry Roberts was all action and little thought. In some ways, it was true: she often leapt before she looked, driven by pure emotion and wild energy, and she was more comfortable in the midst of a fight than in the planning of it. She frequently reacted on blind instinct and the urging of her gut. If the situation called for a long reach and extensive preparation, she tended to leave that in Jo's more-than-capable hands—mainly because she bored easily and would start to look for distraction.
But that didn't mean she was an idiot. She was observant and could draw conclusions quicker than most. She could decode a confusing map or tricky riddle almost as easily as Miss Euphemia, because her brain was predisposed to fit pieces together into a larger picture. She made crack judgment calls when lives were on the line, typically to her benefit, and could take a person's measure easily, so long as they weren't skilled at deceiving others: hence her misreading of Wrath Drew.
And, unlike most, Harry didn't suffer from blind prejudice. It was an unusual gift, given all she had been through. But ever since she was a child she had known to judge a person on their own merits.
Her crew may be almost entirely female, but it wasn't because she hated men—women had simply come to her first. When Agnessa had approached her in the noisy pub, she hadn't immediately dismissed her out of hand because of the lace on her dress and her soft hands; instead, she had met her eyes and seen a fire there she approved of. After discovering Maddie stowed away in the galley, a stolen half-eaten apple in her hand, she hadn't cared that she was young and brown, only that she was desperate. What did it matter to her that Zora and Jo preferred the company of women, that Lizzie liked men, that Wilhelmina and Katherine enjoyed both, and that Franky seemed to like everybody?
And even after losing Aveline, she just couldn't look at every mermaid and assume the worst. Their species was no more wholly evil than humanity; some pods would make slaves of humans, but then how many humans were enslaved by other humans? How many mermaids had been slaughtered by sailors?
She boarded slaver ships regardless of which country's flag they flew, but she would only kill merfolk that actively tried to harm her crew.
Which was why she was waiting so calmly and unarmed. Every overture had been a friendly one and the last gift had confirmed her suspicions. Only one thing would leave drag marks like that: a mermaid, and a large one at that, both because of the size of the marks and the weight of the treasure chest left three days ago. Merfolk were, pound for pound, vastly stronger than humans, but to swim while carrying such a weight, she had to be comparable to Katherine in scale. Most of the mermaids Harry had ever seen were lithe and slim, but the width of the drag marks suggested a much broader torso and tail.
Their mysterious friend must be an impressive woman, and Harry was looking forward to formally making her acquaintance.
No sign of her yet, though. Harry leaned back on her arms and chewed thoughtfully on a slice of sugarcane. Maddie had found the stand not far from the overgrown fruit trees that Katherine had taken under her care.
The lapping of the water against her legs was as soothing as the cool breeze. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. She sank back to lie on the rock that still held the warmth of the setting sun, crossing her arms over her bared stomach as her shirt rode up. A handful of quiet, comfortable minutes trickled past.
A sudden splash woke her, the water cresting over her knees and soaking the rolled-up legs of her trousers. She pushed herself up with a grin. "So, finally we—"
"This was not quite what I had planned," said the surprising figure floating before her. No mermaid, after all—no, this was obviously a merman. And in his arms with an unconscious woman.
A woman whose face was covered in blood.
"My name is Kaimana," he said quickly. "And this woman needs your help."
*~*~*
"We should not take her fully out of the water," Kaimana said.
"Why the hell not?" Harry demanded, adrenaline coursing hot through her blood, making her body demand action. "She looks half-drowned."
"She is more like me than you," he tried to explain, moving along the edge of the lagoon to a spot where he could lay her down so her legs remained submerged. "Water is a healing element. I truly believe it is the only thing that has kept her alive this long."
"Jo! Jo, the medic bag!" Harry shouted, trusting her first mate would hear. "Good God, someone's cut out her tongue..."
"Stay with her, try to wake her," Kaimana said. "I have things to collect." Another splash, and he was gone.
"Can you hear me, miss? Just squeeze my hand if you can hear me. My name's Harry."
The whole crew huffed and puffed into view, Jo in the lead with the black doctor's bag.
"What the hell?"
"Where did she come from?"
"What's happened, Cap?"
"Not good, not good," Jo muttered, dropping to her knees on the other side of the girl, taking stock with a wince. "If we don't stop the bleeding, she won't last another ten minutes."
"How the hell do we stop bleeding like this?"
"Cauterization is the best way," Miss Euphemia said, voice shaking. "It closes the vessels and prevents infection."
"And how do you suggest we do that?" Harry snapped. "Stick a hot coal in her mouth?"
"Who did this to her?" Agnessa said, face pale. "It's barbaric."
"There're blisters in her mouth and throat, too," said Jo grimly. "Across her lips. It looks like someone made her swallow something caustic."
"And bound her wrists—see where the ropes burned her skin?" pointed out Katherine.
"That's torture," said Maddie, unusually subdued, the animation draining from her face. "Someone's tortured the poor thing."
Harry looked up sharply, alerted by the dull tone of Maddie's voice. "Mads, you look away. Breathe in and out. Lizzie, get her away from here. Now."
"Captain?" cut in Franky, looking from Maddie to Harry in alarm.
"Franky, go with them. Get her moving and talking and thinking about something else. Snap her out of it. Last thing we need right now is for Maddie to have one of her fits."
"She's a berserker, boy," said Lizzie, pulling a barely-responsive Maddie away. "If she breaks, she's liable to hurt us all an' herself."
"Maddie, let's go back to the fire, okay?" Franky said loudly, taking one of her hands and rubbing it bracingly. "You were gonna show me how to do that tricky knot, remember?"
"She's right, though," said Agnessa. "This girl's been tortured. By who?"
The water rippled and before Harry could give any warning, Kaimana resurfaced, startling a scream from Zora, who staggered back and nearly knocked Marcella off her feet. Katherine pulled a curved dagger from her belt and started to lunge forward, before Harry's arm went out and stopped her, knocking against her legs. "Peace, he's our mysterious friend. He's the one who brought her here."
"After he'd had some fun with her?" Katherine demanded, eyes narrowing.
"No, I swear I did no harm to her," Kaimana said, raising his hands in a gesture of submission. "When they threw her overboard, I pulled her to safety. I went for medicine," he continued, directing the last at Harry as he swam closer. There was a net-like bag over his tattooed shoulder. "Things to stop the bleeding."
"Don't waste any more time on talk, then," said Jo. "This girl's going to die if you don't do something now."
"Lift her head up," he instructed, pulling out a small corked bottle. "And someone else will need to steady her, because she will struggle."
"Why will she struggle?" asked Zora in a small voice.
"Because it will hurt," Kaimana said grimly. "But it is a necessary hurt—it will stop the bleeding."
As he poured the black liquid into the girl's mouth, her eyes flew open and focused on Harry's. Her pupils had contracted to the size of pinpricks. The dark irises were glazed with an agony and terror that struck Harry like a physical punch to the gut. It was a look that would linger in her thoughts and dreams for weeks.
Then the girl's body began to jerk and spasm, hands clenching and feet kicking out. A wordless scream rose up through the blood choking her, cutting the air like a razorblade. It seemed to go on for an unnatural length of time, far longer than any human could scream, as if it was an audible manifestation of all of the girl's pain and fear, emptying her body of everything.
Harry thought of the immediate aftermath of losing Aveline, of the fire in her injured arm and the despair on Jo's face when she heard the news. The sound raging from the brutalized girl was like a magnet, drawing out all of the bleakest, most painful memories inside her head. She looked over at Jo and saw her face etched with similar agony.
And then the scream ended with a sharp note of finality. The girl slumped back into Jo and Harry's arms, eyes rolling up to the whites.
"Jesus Christ preserve us," whispered Jo.
"What was that you gave her?" Harry asked, pushing past old pain to focus on the situation at hand.
"A potion my matrons swore by," Kaimana said quietly, shoving the cork back into the half-emptied bottle. "It will stop any bleeding, even from mortal wounds. Made of jellyfish and anemone."
"Sounds like a poison," said Wilhelmina, face wooden and stoic. Behind her, Marcella and Zora were both crying, holding one another tightly. Everyone gathered was visibly upset; a couple of the women stepped away with hands over their faces and eyes bright with tears.
"It would be a poison to anything not of merkind," he said.
"She's not a mermaid," Jo said.
The Search for Aveline Page 3
