The Cursed Sea

by Candace Osmond

  She doesn’t have a soul…

  What a gift…

  Live foreeeever…

  Pretty little thing…

  Forever…

  I sucked in a heavy breath with a gasp. The inky smoke burned in my lungs. But it subsided. A door suddenly appeared in the middle of the room, held up by nothing other than the floor it stood from. Frantic and desperate to leave this place, this confusing and haunting nightmare, I flung the door open and thrust myself through the void.

  I awoke in my bunk with a fright, fighting for air. But one breath was all I needed. Confused, I sat up in the dim light of my room–the stub of a candle the only light to be found–and held up my hands in front of my face. Calm. Even. I touched my chest. No racing heartbeat. No sweat-covered skin. I was cool as a cucumber.

  But how? And better yet…why?

  I slowly laid back down in bed, knowing very well it was too late in the night to get up and wander about. I was still. Unmoving and bewildered at the dream that seemed to plague me. Why now? Was it the sea working its wild magic on me, or was I just yearning for my family? Perhaps it was my body’s way of coping with the loss of my emotions. I felt empty inside, lost at times. But now, as I laid there on the bed, I felt something new. A sort of tugging in my chest, pulling me toward that same darkness that haunted my dreams. As if it were the answer. And for the first time in days, I finally felt the full effect of an emotion.

  Fear.

  Chapter Six

  I went about each day with a routine. I spent as much time as I could in the kitchen. Cooking, cleaning, preparing, baking. Whatever I could to keep my hands busy. Because it helped. To not have idle hands…it just made the nights so much worse. Because at night, I drowned in nightmares. The same ones. Over and over. The darkness just ate at me until there was nothing left but a dried-up shell in the mornings. It took me a solid hour just to get out of bed each morning. But, when I did, the kitchen was there to save me. There was an endless number of chores to do in a kitchen. It was perfect for someone like me. And I eventually found a loophole to avoid the nightmares.

  Just stay awake.

  The darkness, it couldn’t bother me unless I slept. But, after two whole nights of forcing myself awake, I roamed the ship on the third night. Restless. I could feel the drags of sleep pulling at me. I headed up a ladder hatch and walked the upper deck. Let the cool night air fill my lungs. Ignite my senses and keep me awake.

  I leaned against the far back railing and stared down at the crashing waves below. They always mesmerized me. Like liquid jade rolling in the night.

  Dianna…a voice whispered from behind.

  I whipped around to find no one, but my heart beat once and hard and it made me stumble back. I gripped the railing and took a deep breath just as Finn appeared. He looked almost as tired as I felt.

  “Why am I nae surprised to find ye up here at this hour?” he said, and I turned and leaned against the railing with him.

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “What else am I going to do?”

  We both stared down at the waves below. A good while passed before either of us spoke and I savoured in the silence. The serenity of just being with one of my closest friends and the sounds of the ship cutting through the ocean. I enjoyed the mutual love-hate relationship he and I shared with the sea.

  But, after a while, the silence scratched at my skin. I picked around the edge of a fingernail. “Tell me a story, Finn.”

  “A story?” he balked.

  “Yeah,” I said and inhaled a big gulp of sea mist. “Tell me something. Anything.”

  “What do ye want t’know?”

  I thought for a moment. “Why did you choose to leave behind your home again? After waiting so long to get it back.”

  His forehead pinched together. “Ye asked me to.”

  I shook my head. “You could have said no.”

  “Dianna,” Finn said, almost scoldingly. “Sometimes…the family ye were born with just drifts away. Just a wee bit.” He paused thoughtfully. “Ye still love them. But then the family ye choose for yerself takes a higher place in ye heart.” We both leaned against our arms on the railing and looked at one another. “Yer me family, Dianna. Ye and Henry, Lottie…Gus.”

  We took a moment of silence. I hadn’t realized how fresh in my mind the death still was. How it all happened. Just a flash of images forever seared into my brain. Black kelpie blood poisoning the water around us. Mixing with the crimson swirls of human blood. The struggle and cries of my friends, of Henry. The gut-wrenching sound of metal hacking through the thick hide of the kelpies. I’d never forget it as long as I lived.

  “If yer in need of help, I’ll be there in any way I can.” His face twisted, and he looked at me from the corner of his eye. “Freya’s just a stubborn wench.”

  I laughed, but it fizzled out and we settled back into a comfortable silence as the crashing jade lulled us. The stars above were so bright, the sky so clear, that I could see everything around us in sharp detail.

  After a moment too long, Finn spoke. “Yer worried, aren’t ya?”

  I just pursed my lips and nodded, keeping my gaze fixed on the water. I knew I should have tears. Knew how I should feel inside. But I just felt…cold. Not the kind that left a chill, but a sort of icy caress that combed me over, inside and out. Calm. Unstirred. I only recognized the importance of my mission in my mind. There was no emotion to speak of that pushed me forward. Only rationality. I had to get back to my family and this would finally be over.

  Finn slung a heavy arm over my back and let it settle across my shoulders, weighing me down with unexpected comfort. “We’ll figure it out.” His words gave little assurance as I recognized a hint of doubt in his tone.

  It matched the one that sat in my empty chest.

  Chapter Seven

  I don’t know at what point I left the deck and ended up in bed, but I awoke the next morning in my bunk. I laid there for a moment, bewildered and disoriented, until I realized what the problem was.

  No nightmare.

  I must have forced myself awake long enough to avoid actual sleep and just dipped into a temporary coma for a few hours. I stretched my arms high and my spine cracked. I didn’t exactly feel rested and refreshed, but I also didn’t face the fatigue from a night of horrors. I’d take it.

  I flung the blankets off me and got cleaned up. Just as I was exiting my room, Benjamin’s door creaked open and a wave of laughter poured out. He stepped into the hall where I stood, Freya’s arms draped around his neck, and when his eyes met mine, the laughter abruptly came to a halt.

  “Morning,” I said to them both and forced a smile, ignoring the sting of jealousy I suddenly felt. “I would have expected you two to be sleeping up in the captain’s quarters.”

  Ben went wide-eyed. “Oh, we weren’t–”

  “Aye, but we got caught up in all the stories Benjamin here was tellin’ me,” Freya cut in. She looked at me, but her arm remained around Ben’s neck and her fingers played with his hair.

  “Stories?” I asked.

  Benjamin’s cheeks filled with a soft pink under the dark brown scruff of his facial hair.

  “Aye,” Freya replied. “From his days as a real pirate. Fascinatin’, really.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “Before we knew, we’d dozed off, and the sun was coming up.”

  That sting of jealousy spread in my chest like heartburn. He’d never told me details of his days of piracy. Not anything significant, anyway. I stomped down the sensation. I also didn’t spend nights in his bed. Benjamin and I shared a deep, otherworldly friendship. I couldn’t let my envy of Freya’s connection to him get to me. I wanted Ben to be happy.

  Do you really…

  The whisper was so loud in my ear that I let out a slight yelp. When they both gave me a curious look, I put my palm to my chest. “Hiccups.”

  Freya nodded slowly, her suspicion of me no secret, and she leaned in to place a kiss on Ben’s cheek. “Excuse me, I should check in with
Finnigan. I’ll see ye later?”

  “Uh, yes, of course,” he replied and watched her trail down the hallway toward a ladder hatch and disappear. When she was out of sight, Ben’s eyes landed right on me, his brows raised. “Nothing happened.”

  His need to assure me gave me a startle, but I played it cool. “That’s too bad. Freya’s beautiful.”

  A long sigh left him, and he stuffed his heavily ringed hands in the pockets of his pants. “Yeah, but she’s not…”

  I dared bring my gaze to his as we took slow steps down the hall. I saw then what filled his mind; a mess of confusion and pain and heartbreak. I wondered what reflected in mine. Emptiness? Darkness? Whatever had taken residence in the hole left behind by my soul. I shook my head.

  “Not what?”

  He didn’t answer.

  A tightness pulled at my shoulders. “Well, you’re missing out if you don’t make a move soon. Freya’s a catch.”

  “A catch?”

  I laughed, a real one, and I placed a hand over my chest as if I could hold on to it before it seeped from me. “Uh, yes. Sorry, modern term. It means…someone who has it all. Everything you need or are looking for. Beauty, smarts, strength.”

  We walked a bit more, nearing the ladder hatch that would bring us to the mess deck. He stopped at the bottom and peered down at me with a contemplative expression.

  “Would I be considered a…catch?”

  I pretended to ponder on it for a moment, taunting him, then waggled my hand in the air. Benjamin chuckled and playfully shoved at my arm. I reciprocated the gesture and, when my hand fell to my side, my fingers brushed against his and my heart fluttered. I gasped at the sudden rush in my chest.

  “Ben!” Finn called down from above. I glanced up to spot his fiery red hair through the large square opening. “Need ye up here.”

  Relief flooded me, calming my unpredictable heart. Ben didn’t seem to notice the turmoil I battled with inside. He turned back to me and smiled.

  “See you later, then?”

  I just nodded as he scrambled up the ladder hatch. I headed for the mess hall, all the while thinking about what I’d done. I had no actual explanation, but part of me recognized the fact that I somehow turned off my emotions. Or…most of them, anyway. And they seemed to be replaced with fear and…something else. Lust? No, not quite. Something I just couldn’t put my finger on.

  I feared that the lack of a soul was changing me, altering me on a deep level. And I worried if it would revert, even if I got my soul back because I couldn’t possibly live the rest of eternity like this. The idea of getting back to my family seemed logical in my mind, but it didn’t make my heart flutter. Not like it just did when Ben’s hand touched mine, and certainly not like it did when the pang of jealousy ran hot in my veins at the sight of Freya coming out of his room.

  What was happening to me?

  ***

  Just a few days later, we made a stop along the way as we hugged the Western shores of France and Spain. Freya called the orders to have the ship anchor by some docks near a village in Portugal. I tried to muster up my pathetic amount of history knowledge from high school. Portugal. Early 1700s. I think it was King Joseph who currently ruled the area, after just making a treaty between Britain and Portugal.

  The Lady Brianna anchored just a short way out, and we all clambered into a rowboat to go ashore. Freya muttered something about not wanting to go into port and preferring to avoid dealing with any local pirates that may hustle the visitors. Honestly, I hadn’t really been paying attention when she spoke, I was too concerned with getting ashore and away from the ship. Whatever I had done to myself, whatever was going on inside of me…it wracked my nerves, dwindled my emotional range down to a splinter. The world was looking pale and boring. Like a starving animal, I desperately ached for new surroundings to ignite my senses.

  Finn took my hand and helped me from the rowboat to the dock and I stood and stretched my back, breathing in deeply the fresh scents, unfamiliar sounds. Things like spices and Earl Grey tea, fresh linens, and fruit all filled my nostrils and my mouth instantly salivated.

  The port was bustling with movement all around as the afternoon sun shone down on everything like a shiny golden blanket. Merchant tents and kiosks were spattered across the entire length of the shore as far as I could see. Traders, sellers, locals, and visitors alike filled the space between them all. A quick glance at the tents closest to us told me that there were things like delicious foods to decadent chocolates and even some hand-crafted jewellery. It was certainly a sight to behold and one that wouldn’t last long. As I raked through my meager knowledge of the place and time, Portugal would soon fall under a war. A small one, a quick one. But a war, nonetheless. Spain and France would eventually grow leery of Portugal’s treaty with Britain and will attempt to take over. They won’t win, but I vaguely recalled learning how the beauty of the place would be destroyed for a while. I inhaled deeply, appreciating the fact that I was lucky enough to see it all in its prime when it was bursting with life and cultures mixed beautifully.

  “Aye,” Freya announced, and we all turned to face her with our bags in hand. “I’ll go fetch us some lodgings for the night.”

  Finn straightened his belt. “And now that I got ye all ashore, I best be headin’ back to the ship to finish securin’ everythin’ and bring the deckhands in.”

  I slung the strap of my satchel over my head and let it rest against my side as I looked at Benjamin. “Care to check out the market with me?”

  “Lead the way,” he replied with an eager smile.

  I ignored the way Freya stared daggers into me as I turned my back to her and headed toward the never-ending rows of merchants. The food we’d packed aboard The Lady Brianna was great, but my stomach rumbled violently at the sight and smell of the wondrous things at our fingertips. Slow-cooked meats in various sauces, freshly poured chocolates, spicey fish dishes, and more. I got something from just about every food vendor we passed and shared it with Benjamin. He happily lapped jams and sauces from the spoon we shared.

  “I swear,” Benjamin said, “I’ll never grow tired of food.”

  “Not after a hundred years living off of plain fish and stale bread,” I replied with a wicked grin.

  He playfully shoved at me and I laughed, a genuine sound that felt heavy in my chest. Soul or not, being with Ben made me feel alive. There was no doubt in my mind about that. I was going to miss him greatly.

  I unwrapped the twine that closed some chocolates bound in a meshy fabric and broke a piece off. “Here,” I said and put it to his mouth. “Try this.”

  He waited for a second, laying his eyes on mine and letting his brow lower before his mouth opened enough for me to stick the chocolate on his tongue. As I dragged my hand away, our eyes still locked together, Ben’s lips ever so slightly brushed the skin of my fingers and I felt my heart squeeze in my chest. The tip of his warm tongue licked a smear of chocolate from my thumb.

  It was a step too far. I knew that the second it happened. But the feeling of Benjamin’s lips on me, even my finger, was enough to light my veins on fire and they suddenly burned like gasoline ablaze. I took a step back and focused on a long breath to clear my head as I willed my body to simmer.

  Benjamin’s mouth opened to speak, but, thankfully, a stark cry for help pierced the air and saved me from having that awkward conversation. Our heads whipped to the left where a small boy, not much older than my own children, was being dragged to the center of the market where a large stump of wood sat. He struggled against the man who gripped his arm tightly, wailing to be let go.

  “No, please, sir!” the kid begged. “No!”

  “I’ll teach you to steal from me, you street trash,” the man, clearly a merchant, told him and forced the boy to his knees as the man stretched his tiny arm over the stump.

  I noticed then, the darkened and dried stains of reddish-brown soaked into the wood and an axe that sat perched against the side. The merchant held t
he flailing boy as everyone watched in wait, and he picked up the axe.

  I looked at Ben, who was staring at me in dismay. But not at what we were witnessing. He was giving me a look of disbelief, as if I’d done something wrong. It was just a fleeting look, but enough to make me question it before he dove for the man and grabbed his arm in mid-swing.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” the man bellowed, his other hand still gripping the boy’s tiny wrist.

  “He’s just a kid,” Ben replied. “What did he steal to warrant losing a hand?”

  The boy sobbed helplessly at their feet as the man guffawed. “A loaf of bread.”

  Ben’s eyes widened. “A loaf of bread?” His expression intensified with anger and he squeezed the man’s arm so tight that the axe fell and rattled to the ground. He gave the merchant a hefty shove, and he stumbled back. “Here,” Ben said with a bite and pulled a small pouch of coins from his pocket and tossed it at the man who scrambled to catch it. “This should cover a thousand loaves of bread. If a hungry child comes around, you give them food.” He took two wide steps toward the man and let his massive height tower down over him. “Do you understand?”

  With a frantic nod, the merchant scuttled away, and I began walking over to where Ben was helping the boy to his feet. He kneeled to face him. “Why were you stealing?”

  The kid’s sobs had settled into quiet hiccups, and he wiped at his tears with his dirty hand. “My little sister hasn’t eaten in days, sir. I was just trying to help her.”

  “Where are your parents?” Ben asked.

  “Dead, sir.”

  Benjamin ran a hand roughly over his own face and let a deep sigh loosen from his chest with a low grumble. I watched as he reached into his backpack and rifled around until he pulled out another pouch, a larger and lumpier one.