Sordid Depths (The Cursed Seas Collection)

by Heather Marie Adkins

  “If you make the hole bigger, the ship will take on water faster and sink. Killing the crew.”

  “The crew who kidnapped us and planned to sell us into slavery,” Rivka reminded her.

  “Oh.” Lesya looked thoughtful. “Well, when you put it that way. Knock yourself out. Or knock the wall out, as it were.”

  But before Rivka could even take a step, the door swung inward, sending a wave through the room. The crate jostled Lesya as the water rushed around it.

  Viktor sloshed into the room one leg at a time. He swept his blond hair out of his eyes, then spread his arms wide. “Did I hear there were some damsels in distress that needed saving?”

  “What took you so long?” Lesya griped. “We could have died down here!”

  “I came as soon as I could and…” Viktor took one look at Lesya’s pained expression and her broken leg. “You’re right. I didn’t get here in time to avoid injury, but I can definitely get you up to the deck.”

  “Oh really? And how do you propose to do that?”

  Viktor swept her into his arms, picking her up as if she weighed nothing. “By carrying you, of course!”

  Rivka’s right eyelid twitched as she waited for Lesya to lose it and punch him. But instead of clocking the pirate in his nose for being fresh, the mage’s face turned a deep shade of red. When Rivka gave her a questioning look, Lesya bit her lip and turned her head away.

  Oh really. So that’s how it was going to be. Rivka could put two and two together. She smirked as she followed behind the pair.

  Up on deck, Viktor sat Lesya down on the floor. “You might want to hang on to the railing,” he said. “It’s wild up here.”

  “It was wild down below,” Rivka countered, sitting beside her friend in case she needed help.

  Viktor left them behind to shimmy up one of the big poles and into the cloth and ropes above. He jumped around from place to place like he was at home up there. He wasn’t alone, either. Several others clung to poles, tying things down. The ship didn’t sway quite as much after that, but the storm wasn’t over yet.

  Rivka and Lesya clutched a railing, trying to stay in one place. Water and wind whipped at their bodies and faces until Rivka could barely see. They rode the waves, dipping and breaching, turning sideways, then swaying back the other way. With every sharp movement, Lesya’s leg rolled with the motion, and she cried out.

  They just needed to get through this storm, and Rivka would do what she could to set the injured leg. Maybe the pirates would show mercy. A broken mage wasn’t worth as much. They had to fix her up, right?

  The whole shipped leaned sideways, more than it had while they were below. And it kept leaning, further and further, until Rivka feared the worst. This was the end. Despite being able to breathe underwater, she’d be crushed by the ship as it sunk.

  Lesya’s eyes widened as large as boulders. She nudged Rivka and pointed.

  A giant wave loomed over the ship, impossibly high over their heads and ready to smash everything.

  Including them.

  12

  Lesya

  Lesya clutched the railing and closed her eyes, real fear turning her skin colder than ice. She was going to die here on this stupid pirate ship. Who would feed her puffins? What if the villagers raided her cottage and ate her puffins?

  She’d come back as a vengeful spirit and haunt the fuck out of those assholes.

  But the crushing weight of the wave never came. The ship coasted smoothly past the rogue wave and evened out, a small spray of water soaking them in the process.

  Lesya opened one eye and scanned the horizon. The clouds had begun to dissipate and reveal the evening sky. She could see stars.

  “Holy crap!” Rivka said breathlessly. She shoved her wet hair off her face and kicked away an errant pile of rope on the deck. “Did you see that wave?”

  Lesya grimaced, shifting her weight off her broken leg. “Yeah. This boat should be toothpicks right now.”

  “Do you think it was your good luck spell? It worked!”

  Lesya leaned on her other hip and arm. The leg had gone almost entirely numb. “There is no way. I suck at spells. Plus, I broke my leg, so I don’t think luck was entirely on my side.”

  Rivka smiled and gently touched her head. “Or maybe you don't suck as much as you think.”

  Lesya returned the smile. The siren's words touched her, made her chest feel warm and her stomach queasy. She hadn't had a lot of friendships to measure against Rivka, but the affection she felt was definitely friend-like.

  Somehow, some way on this bizarre journey, she'd started to actually like the siren.

  Viktor skidded to a stop on the wet deck, shoving a wave of murky ocean water over Lesya. Her good feeling faded as she glared at the ridiculously handsome pirate.

  “It's cool. I don't want to be dry,” she said.

  “How's your leg?” he asked, casually ignoring her jab. He knelt beside her and his fingers hovered over her injured leg. “This is pretty bad. What happened?”

  “The ship tilted almost ninety degrees. Everything in the room slammed towards the wall. Rivka was quick enough to climb the wall and get out of the way. I didn't have a chance to even scream. I hit the wall feet first, and a hoard of trunks smashed into me. My recipe for one broken leg.”

  “We don’t exactly have a doctor on board. I can splint it, find you some painkillers, at least get you comfortable enough to ride out the rest of the trip.”

  “I can help,” Rivka offered. “I have a little experience with splinting.”

  Viktor nodded and didn't say anything more as he slipped an arm beneath Lesya's legs and under her arms. He stood, cradling her against his chest.

  Lesya flushed hot at the feeling of his hard chest against her. She'd never been this close to a man before—not in any nonviolent way that hadn't ended in her kicking his ass.

  Rivka smiled gleefully, a knowing look on her face.

  Oh, shut up, Lesya mouthed.

  “Drakkar!” The voice tore through the windless evening.

  Viktor tensed, his arms tightening around Lesya. He turned to face the gruff-voiced man.

  “Captain Dyatlov?” Viktor said evenly, as if it were normal for him to be carrying their prisoner on deck.

  The captain, Dyatlov, had fiery red hair that hung in dreadlocks around his wind-burned and suntanned face. He was older, old enough that crevices painted lines around his beady eyes. His beard had more white than red and was nearly as long as his hair.

  “What the devil are you doing, man? That's more money than you're worth in your arms!”

  “The hold is taking on water. Yulian and Dominic have a team below, attempting to patch the damage.”

  Dyatlov eyed Lesya suspiciously, and then his gaze moved to Rivka, who had remained silent during the exchange.

  Lesya noticed a feralness in his eyes that didn’t belong on a human’s face. Viktor was right in his assessment of the man as a lunatic. Something was very wrong inside the captain.

  “Nasty storm,” Dyatlov said casually. “We usually have more notice of cyclones. More time to adjust sails and get out of the way.”

  “The weather can be unpredictable, sir,” Viktor offered. If Lesya's weight had begun to feel heavy, he made no indication. He also made no move to put her down.

  “Indeed, it can. But it can also be a sign from God that we've taken on a couple of Jonahs.” The captain glared at Lesya. “We should throw them overboard. Just to be sure. The Black North can't handle another gale like this one. Best to be safe.”

  Viktor tensed. It wouldn’t have been visible to Dyatlov, but Lesya felt it against her body.

  He cleared his throat. “Sir? A word in private?” He knelt and deposited Lesya gently back on the deck, then grabbed the captain's arm and steered him away.

  “What's a Jonah?” Rivka murmured as she slid back to the deck beside Lesya.

  The word had tickled Lesya's brain - a story from her childhood, from the old religion.r />
  “Jonah and the whale,” Lesya said slowly, digging deep into her memories. “Jonah was tasked by the Christian God to spread the religion to Nineveh, but instead he booked passage on a ship and ran away. He was an oath breaker. God sent a vicious storm down on the ship, and only when Jonah was banished from the ship did the storm abate.”

  “But the storm is over, and we're still here. He can't be serious.”

  “Viktor did say the captain is…” Lesya circled a finger near her temple and whistled softly. She went on, her voice low. “Dyatlov isn’t… normal. Did you see his eyes? They’re crazy. I think Viktor’s got a point, and the captain isn’t in his right mind.”

  “So, there is a literal crazy person in charge?” Rivka said. “That can never end well. Do you think Viktor can talk some sense into him?”

  Lesya couldn't hear what Viktor and the captain were saying, but the manic waving of their hands said it wasn't a pleasant debate. “You know exactly what I know about Viktor.”

  Heavy footsteps jerked them from their quiet conversation. Dyatlov strolled back toward them, his face set like stone behind his wild hair, and his eyes just as nuts as they were before the argument.

  Viktor hurried after him, speaking quickly. “Cap. Listen to me. There's no such thing as a Jonah. It's an old superstition. These girls are going to haul in bags of gold. It's only three days to port, and you can offload them.”

  “Three days here, and their presence might kill us all,” Dyatlov said. He grabbed Rivka by the front of her shirt and hauled her to her feet.

  “Hey!” Lesya yelled, snatching at the man's legs. “Get your hands off her!”

  Dyatlov shoved Rivka towards the railing as she thrashed in his grip. “Get the witch, boy,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Do something!” Lesya hissed, motioning wildly at the captain.

  Viktor ran after the pair. “At least allow them a fair hearing. It's the code.”

  “They aren't pirates, boy! The code doesn't apply to them. If you can't stay in line, I'll throw you overboard with them!”

  “Captain!” Lesya yelled. She used the railing to heave herself to a standing position, though ‘standing’ in her current predicament meant all weight on one good leg and leaning against the railing as if it would hold her up.

  Dyatlov paused and glanced back at her.

  Lesya drew herself up, ignoring the pain in her leg. If he was so deeply in tune with his religion to believe a Jonah was a real thing… maybe she could use that against him to save their asses. “Would your God approve of these murders without the common human decency of a hearing? The life of a pirate is already a life of crime. Would you risk your soul to hell?”

  The captain let go of Rivka. His gaze narrowed on Lesya. “You dare question me as a man of God?”

  “I don't. But God will.” Lesya held her breath. He’d either relent or kill her.

  “Fine. A hearing. Ten minutes in my quarters.” The captain spat on the deck and stomped away, disappearing through a door at the other end of the ship.

  Lesya sagged against the railing, all her bluster deflating. Viktor slipped an arm under her shoulders and hauled her against his body.

  “That was brilliant,” he said. “You turned his own insanity against him.”

  Lesya put her other arm around Rivka’s shoulders and agreed. “There's a thin line between insanity and religion.”

  It took them the entire ten-minute interlude to track down a suitable splint for Lesya’s leg and to lash it to her with strips of tough leather. She wasn't able to walk on her leg, but with Rivka on one side and Viktor on the other, she was able to hobble into the captain's quarters for the hearing.

  Though “hearing” seemed to be a bit of a misnomer, considering only the captain and one other man waited for them.

  “Where is our jury?” Lesya asked, staring at the strange man beside the captain. He was younger than Dyatlov with wild black hair everywhere. A scar bisected the right side of his face, giving him a permanent grimace.

  The captain sneered. “Myself and my first mate are your judge, jury, and executioner, witch.”

  “That's hardly fair,” Rivka said.

  “Sit down, siren. This is the court you get.”

  Viktor and Rivka helped Lesya into a chair, and then sat beside her. Lesya could feel the tension emanating from Viktor. Rivka perched ramrod straight on the edge of her chair, as if she were ready to bolt. Or fight.

  Probably both, Lesya thought.

  Dyatlov banged a gavel on the wooden table before him. “We gather here to determine whether or not these two prisoners have come upon our ship as Jonahs. How do you plead?”

  “Not guilty,” Rivka said. She looked at Lesya. “The nerve! He kidnapped us!”

  Lesya circled her finger near her temple and whistled, earning a laugh from both her companions.

  “Siren. Come forth,” Dyatlov intoned.

  Lesya gave her friend an encouraging nod. Rivka crossed to stand before the captain and first mate.

  “Siren. Have you broken any oaths promised to others in the past week?”

  Rivka squared her shoulders. “No, sir. I never break promises.”

  The captain turned to Lesya. “Witch?”

  “Sir, she can't stand due to a broken leg,” Viktor interjected.

  “Permission granted to remain seated. Witch, have you broken any oaths promised to others in the past week?”

  “No, sir,” Lesya said. “I don't make promises.”

  Dyatlov nodded approvingly. “Smart girl.” He returned his gaze to Rivka. “Siren. Have you entered into any blood contracts this past week?”

  Lesya didn't hear Rivka's response or the captain's begrudging acceptance. His question had sent a rush of sound through her, a ringing in her ears that blocked out everything but the memory of the vodyanoi's long claw slicing into her palm.

  And her blood seeping into the ocean in exchange for the knowledge to kill the sea bear.

  “Witch!” The irritation in the captain's voice indicated he had called on her multiple times.

  Lesya blinked and balled her hand into a fist. She could still feel the scab.

  “Have you or have you not entered into any blood contracts this past week?”

  Lesya opened her mouth. Lie, she told herself. This isn't a real court. This is a travesty and that man is insane.

  Instead, she said, “Rivka’s life was in danger. I had no choice.”

  Beside her, Viktor groaned. Rivka looked over her shoulder in horror, her mouth hanging open.

  The captain rapped three times on the table with his gavel. The door opened, and they were joined by a group of hard-faced pirates.

  “Bind them and dump them into Davy Jones's locker,” the captain instructed. “Drakkar, as well, for his part in this farce.”

  Rivka grabbed Lesya’s hand and held on tight as three massive pirates moved towards them with murder in their eyes.

  13

  Rivka

  Ropes dug into Rivka’s wrists and ankles as she struggled against her bonds.

  “You can’t do this! My clan will hear of this, and you will be punished!” She wiggled her hand, trying to loosen the knots. “No. Stop! Put her down!”

  Lesya had been bound, as well. Her eyes were bigger than Rivka had ever seen them. She looked small and scared as her captor boosted her over the railing.

  “Throw me in first!” Rivka shouted.

  Standing beside Rivka, Dyatlov shook his head. “She’s the reason you’re being thrown over. She gets to go first.” His meaty finger pointed to Lesya. “Throw her over.”

  A hand clamped down on Rivka’s mouth before she could protest any further. Her eyes widened as she watched Lesya being tossed over, then Viktor.

  “You’re next, pretty.” The pirate’s filthy hand left her mouth just in time for her to scream as she was tossed overboard. The air rushed around her, stealing her breath.

  Smack!

  She hit the water hard
. Sideways. Her gills took over as she sank into the water, looking wildly around for her companions. Below her, Lesya and Viktor tried to kick their tied feet and arms to keep from drifting toward the bottom.

  “I just…” Rivka wiggled her fingers. Her hands were almost free. Almost. “Just let me get these off, and I’ll help you two.” She wasn’t sure if the pair could hear her underwater like her fellow sirens could.

  As the siren struggled to free herself, she watched the bubbles leave Lesya and Viktor’s mouths. Lesya’s eyes had frozen wide with terror, and Viktor’s cheeks bulged. They thrashed desperately against the ropes that bound them. Their air would soon run out.

  If Rivka didn’t act quick, her friend would die. The pirate would die. Those deaths would haunt her more than any other death she’d seen or caused.

  If only she could get her thumb loose. Just. One. More. Inch.

  “Finally!” With one thumb out, the rest of her bindings loosened up and her hands slipped free.

  Lesya’s eyes closed and a final bout of bubbles escaped her mouth.

  “No!” Rivka jerked at the bonds on her legs. She clawed at them, screaming as she shredded the threads and freed her legs, kicking off her restrictive boots along with them.

  She shot to Lesya’s side and hoisted her to the surface, grabbing a still-conscious Viktor along the way.

  “Please don’t let it be too late,” Rivka pleaded to whatever gods would listen.

  Rivka shoved both humans ahead of her. Viktor was sucking in deep breaths of air when she popped up beside him.

  “Hold onto me!” Rivka snapped, shoving her shoulder under his bound hands. She couldn’t waste time untying him yet. She had to get Lesya breathing.

  Rivka struggled to stay afloat under the weight of both humans. She beat a hand upon Lesya’s back, hoping to dislodge any water that may have gotten into her lungs. She hoped the pounding on Lesya’s lungs would be enough to bring her back to life.

  Breath held, Rivka waited to see if her friend would make it.