Tink sniffled and swiped at her wet cheeks. “I want to stay here. James will bring me home when he can. He promised, and I believe him.”
When Anastasia opened her mouth to speak again, Sorcha laid a hand against the queen’s shoulder and leaned forward. “We miss you, Tink,” she said. “Very much. Conall will be relieved to know harm hasn’t befallen you.”
“I’m sorry you all were worried. I avoided one trap but fell into another. If it wasn’t for James, who knows where I’d be. He said the ship I was on was headed for Ridaeron.”
Anastasia pursed her lips then dipped her head in deference to Sorcha. “When he brings you home, we’ll have to thank him. In the meantime, I’ll investigate the matter of slaves in Eisland personally. I consider it an affront to everything my father has worked for if Eisland has broken the Compact behind his back.”
“James is safe?”
Anastasia nodded. “I wouldn’t break my word to you. I can’t imagine an evil man gaining your trust easily. Sprites are often excellent judges of character.”
“We’ll leave you to the rest of your bath, Tink, I…” Sorcha sniffled again and rubbed her cheek. “You look very beautiful big, even if it is different to see you without wings.”
Beautiful? Sorcha thought she was beautiful?
Still drying her face, she nodded and murmured a shy, “Thank you” before the two women bid her to have a good evening and the queen ended the spell.
Left exhausted by her crying fit, Tink crawled into the bathtub and sank to her chin in the hot water. She tilted her head back against the rim and closed her eyes, wondering how many others out in the world believed the lies about James and his crew. For one terrible moment, she wondered if Anastasia’s fears had any foundation. Could James be fooling her?
“No.”
She dismissed the thought almost as soon as it had formed, guilt swamping her and flooding her with cold despite the water. As the sole audience of his deepest thoughts and worries, no one knew the soul of Captain James Hook better than Tink. Eisland had lied.
Aside from the occasional soak with Sorcha and dip in a freshwater spring, Tink had never enjoyed an actual bath prior to James pouring her a bowl for the dollhouse. She lingered with her wine and sweets until her fingertips wrinkled and the plate was empty, then crawled from the bath. She emptied the tub using the elaborate pipe system, dried, and shrugged into her dress.
When she entered the cabin, James was sitting at his desk. He’d already uncapped his usual bottle of rum, from which he often drank at night prior to bed, and slumped forward with his brow against his left palm. He didn’t move when she shut the door.
“Is your letter finished? Would you like me to seal it and take it to Ylis?”
“Please. Tell her it’s for Joaidane.”
Tink found pleasure in doing the simpler things for him. James may have adapted to life with one hand, but nothing rewarded her as much as his smiles of gratitude. “Eliza lent me her bath,” she said while folding the letter and tucking it into the leather cylinder used for Callum’s messenger bird.
“I thought you smelled of her orange blossoms.”
Before an awkward mood could settle between them, she hurried from the cabin and to Ylis’s roost. A small holster had been secured to the eagle’s feathered leg with a metal band.
When Tink returned, James still hadn’t moved from the seat. Sensing something was amiss, she joined him at the desk and slipped into his lap, burying her face against his throat and simply breathing in the scent of rum and spice. They remained that way for a long while, his arms around her, one hand smoothing up and down between her shoulder blades.
She lived for the quiet moments, and wondered if they’d ever be the same once she was small again.
“Have you changed your mind?” he asked, voice calm and nonjudgmental. “It’s all right if you have.”
“No. I still want you.”
“But…?”
“I don’t know what to do yet. But I do know, for now, that I want to stay with you. I told the queen not to send her dragon to get me.”
“The queen? As in Queen Anastasia of Cairn Ocland? That queen?”
“Uh-huh.”
“How in the world did you speak with her when we’re in the middle of the Viridian Sea?”
“Oh, um… Queen Anastasia has this crystal ball, you see, and she finally found me in it. I talked to her in a mirror.”
“At this point, nothing about you should surprise me,” James muttered. “But are you saying you had a chance to go home? It’ll be weeks before we reach the Cairn Ocland shore, love, especially now that we’re lacking Little Wolf’s guidance.”
Tink raised her face to gaze into his blue eyes. “The queen wanted to fly here to rescue me and lock you away. I told her if she did, I’d never forgive her. She said you’re an enemy to her home kingdom, too.”
A quiet, bitter smile came to his face. It didn’t reach his eyes. “I imagine they’ve told all sorts of malicious stories about me to Creag Morden. They’d have to, I suppose, to explain why such a well-decorated officer made off with their newest ship at the time.”
“But… they’re lying. They can’t do that. It’s not right.”
James drew her close and kissed her brow before laying his cheek atop her head. “It’s not, but there’s little I can do about it beyond what I’m doing now. Let them call me a monster and a murderer. What matters is, I know the truth, as does my crew and those we rescue.” His arms tightened around her. “As do you. No one else’s opinion matters to me.”
“When I told her what you’re really like, Queen Anastasia was furious. Not at you. She’s going to look into their claims.”
His small chuckle warmed her heart. “If only I could bear witness to that conversation. I can’t imagine King Harold withstanding the scrutiny of a sorceress and a dragon for long. Perhaps one day the people of Eisland will have the honorable leader they deserve.”
“I hope so.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and never wanted to let go. “For now, I just… I want to be with you and to enjoy whatever time we have. The rest I still need to figure out.”
“Fair enough.”
James scooped her up into his arms and stood, then carried her over to the bed. Even though he drew back, his warmth remained with her.
“Aren’t you coming to bed?”
“Not just yet. I have a few things to check on before I retire, but I thought I’d sit here with you first.”
Tink gazed into his handsome face and read exhaustion in his features. His smiles became more strained over time, weariness etched in the lines creasing his brow. “Then do your things and come to bed with me.”
“All right,” he agreed amicably.
While he did whatever duties were required of a pirate captain, Tink curled up with the book they’d been reading prior to her transformation. She stroked her fingers down the page and wished she could be as brave as the two women the story followed. That she could run away and be with the one she loved while fighting injustice.
She simply didn’t know if she had the courage to leave everything else behind.
Chapter
ANOTHER DAY HAD passed with Tink alongside James as an honorary lieutenant. He’d taught her to handle the wheel and given her amateur lessons at reading a sea chart, though she doubted she’d retain most of what he said. They even fished together from the rail on the main deck once she became proficient in baiting her own hook, and the two challenged one another to pull in the largest catch.
“I haven’t fished in years,” James admitted. “I usually leave the task to the men who enjoy it.”
“You don’t enjoy it?” Tink asked. Conall loved fishing, but she’d never participated due to her small size, always a quiet observer beside him.
“Oh no, I do,” he backtracked. “But when one has many enjoyable activities and limited time, one must choose their preference.”
“And you prefer reading.”
“When I’m not navigating at the wheel—”
“Or causing hell below deck because someone’s skivin’ off at his duties,” Harras called out, to much laughter from the others with their poles.
“You’re hogging Lieutenant Belle, Cap’n,” Tom fussed goodnaturedly. “How can any of us show her the ropes if you keep her to yourself?”
James smiled. “By all means, if you have something to show her.”
“I do,” the young man boasted, puffing out his chest to appear larger. James grinned even more. “Around this time of the year, the other guys like to work the trawl nets through the water to catch the migratin’ Coral Fins, but I get even better with this.” He opened his grimy hand to reveal a handful of sausage bits against a dirt-smeared, greasy palm.
“Sausage?” James asked.
“Fins love ’em,” Tom said. As though to prove his words true, his line pulled taut. Within moments he had a fat Coral Fin pulled up on the deck. The large fish’s pink and orange scales glittered in the sunlight.
“It’s huge,” Tink said.
“Cook fries them up. One fish can feed two or three men, depending on how hungry we are,” Harras told her. “Now you need to catch about ten more, Tommy lad.”
Calls came up from the men at the nets. Tom and Harras rushed down to help their fellow crewmates.
“What are they using nets for if they catch the fish with poles?”
“Jellies,” James replied. “Cook grinds them into the breakfast mash.”
She stared at him. “I’ve eaten that.”
“You have.”
“You let me eat jellyfish?”
“You seemed to enjoy it.”
“But...but…”
His handsome grin widened, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth. “You—”
A pained yell split the air. James twisted around, then he dropped his pole and rushed toward the cry, heavy boots thumping against the wooden deck. Tink managed to catch his pole before it was lost to the sea and set both down before she followed him. A crowd had gathered around a large net, although the fish and jellies trapped within and spread across the planks were completely ignored.
It took some pushing for Tink to make her way close enough to see what was happening. Tom lay on the deck, his limbs flailing while two men tried to get a hold on him. James had forced his way to the front of the throng of people and moved to assist.
“Ah, hells! He’s been stung by a dartfish!” Frederick cried.
“Why weren’t you wearing your drakeskin gloves, lad?” Osric asked.
“What’s happening? What’s wrong?” Belle asked.
“Dartfish sting!” Frederick bellowed, applying enough bass to his voice that the entire ship seemed to tremble. “We’ve got a dartfish sting!”
“Dartfish are poisonous,” Peter whispered in her ear. He’d appeared out of nowhere during the commotion. “I’ve never seen one before, but I’ve heard the others talking about them. Even lost a sailor last year. They had a man overboard, and when they fished him out he was covered in stings. Only takes one to die.”
Tink furrowed her brow. “How do they know it only takes one to die if he was stung dozens of times?”
“My father died of a sting to the foot,” Harras said.
“Make way, make way!” Eliza cried as she rushed through the hatchway. The crowd split apart as their healer moved to the front. Tom’s finger had turned an awful shade of purple and swollen to twice its size. The blood vessels beneath the skin appeared livid and angry, a fine, spiderweb network of violet spreading from the affected digit toward the back of his hand. She wrapped a tight band around his muscular forearm, tying it until it bit into the skin.
Another second passed, the discoloration reached the back of his hand, ascending toward the rest of his limb. Eliza drew her cutlass and slammed the blade down across the young sailor’s wrist.
Tom screamed until he was hoarse. The larger men flanking him, James included, all held him in place while Eliza did her work. As fascinated as she was distraught by the spectacle, Tink watched her cup a palm engulfed in radiant, magical essence against the severed stump. It was like the purest, most pristine white light Tink had ever seen. Even Queen Anastasia didn’t exhibit such strength when it came to healing.
Eyes rolling back in his head, Tom passed out. Whether it was from the pain or the sheer relief of having that pain taken away, Tink had no idea. James knelt by the man’s head, keeping it steady. Eliza continued to work, knitting together the severed veins, muscle, and skin. When she finished, Tom had a stump quite similar in appearance to James’s, though it was pink and shiny.
“Was the best I could do in a pinch under short notice,” Eliza murmured. “Dartfish toxin is a certain death once it reaches the bloodstream. Had it been anything else… It wasn’t worth the risk had it gone higher. I’m sorry, kid.” She tousled his dark hair and sighed. “Take him off to the infirmary to rest in one of the cots. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“Aye, lieutenant,” Osrim said.
Osrim and Frederick lifted Tom from the deck and carried him to the hatchway. James spoke a moment with Eliza in a low voice Tink couldn’t make out, then he and the healer parted company.
When James returned to Tink’s side, he took her hand in his and squeezed. “Well. That was certainly a profound lesson in ship life for you.”
“Does that happen often?” she asked softly. A tremor ran through her pirate’s hand, so she smoothed her fingers across his knuckles.
He shook his head. “Often? No. I’m sorry you had to witness that.”
Eliza remained at the rail with the severed hand cradled to her chest, head bowed as she murmured unheard words. Without glancing up, she tossed the bloated thing into the water.
“What is she doing?” Tink whispered.
“A prayer to the god of the sea and a sacrifice. She does it whenever there’s an injury at sea,” he replied, breath a tickle against her ear. “It may be her job to keep us alive, but she hates whenever it’s necessary to use her gift.”
Her brows raised again. “You never say much about your gods.”
“I’m not as devout as Eliza and her mother. Cook is always lighting candles to our health and makes the occasional sacrifice through the galley porthole. It’s a prayer and a wish that whatever blood the god of the sea has already received from us, will be enough to sate his appetites until we’re safely ashore again.”
“What will happen to Tom?”
“So long as none of the poison remains, he’ll recover in time.”
“But his hand…”
“I’ll see to it he gets a replacement if he wants one. At least I’ll be able to teach him how to use it.” He kissed her brow. “Did you want to fish more?”
“No, I think I’m ready for a break.”
“A book then?”
“Only if you read it aloud,” she replied.
James smiled, amusement replacing the sorrow in his eyes. “I will, gladly so, but my clothes will be staying on.”
“Until tonight,” she reminded him. Her last night as human and their last chance to be together in any intimate, physical sense.
His voice and smile softened and he reached out, caressing her cheek. “Until tonight.”
* * *
James stood at the railing and watched the golden light fade from the sky. Streaks of deep purple and dusky pink colored the thin clouds and the first stars twinkled overhead. He thought back to Belle’s belief that the stars were the gods and smiled, wondering what they saw as they looked down on the Jolly Roger.
If they truly were gods, surely they must have been laughing at him. He’d been given the perfect woman, who even now waited in his room for him to join her, but only for this last night. Tomorrow his sprite would become little again.
“How is that fair?” he asked in a quiet voice, dropping his chin to his chest.
Was it punishment for all the years he’d enjoyed a cavalier sex life without attachment
or love? A cruel twist of fate had at last introduced him to a woman capable of thawing his frozen heart, but he’d never experience physical pleasure with her beyond a single night.
Part of him had hoped Belle would change her mind and withdraw her interest in exploring human intimacy, shrouding their potential encounter in mystery.
But she hadn’t. Instead, she’d shielded him from a queen and a dragon, displaying loyalty he’d only come to expect from his closest friends.
“I don’t deserve her,” James murmured against the cool breeze. He closed his eyes and breathed it in. Bell would be expecting him soon. Less than a half hour ago, she’d retired to their cabin after making him promise to give her time to prepare.
To commemorate Belle’s final day as a human, Nigel had stepped aside and abandoned his post in favor of Belle assuming his duties. She’d been temporarily elevated to the rank of quartermaster, tasked with fulfilling the role.
And she’d loved it. Her smiles had brightened the entire sea whenever a pirate ran to her for advice. Then, at the conclusion of their magical day together, James dreaded the sunset. A third and final night with his human-sized Belle had come too soon.
A wet slap struck the hull of the ship, jerking his attention back to his surroundings. The long, slimy length of a serpentine body curled over the edge of the railing, and rheumy eyes gazed back at him. Caecilia, the sea witch, held the cargo netting of the ship.
“My, my, my, driven to talk to yourself now, are you?”
James stumbled back a step. “Aren’t you a little far from home, witch?”
Her lips spread into a wide smile, revealing each of her sharp teeth. “How cruel of you to speak to me this way when we were once such good friends in the past.”
“Which is exactly where our friendship should remain.”
The witch’s lips pursed into a pout. She lifted herself up and perched on the wooden ledge, her serpentine body shimmering until human legs replaced her scaled tail. “Whatever have I done to offend you, James?”
“You tried to cut Belle’s wings off, for one.”
Belle and the Pirate Page 22
