The Devil's Heart

by Candace Osmond

  “Where would they go?” Finn asked.

  “I’m not certain,” the captain replied. “They could be anywhere on the West Coast.”

  “Well, where were you when you put them in the bottle?” Gus chimed in.

  More ruffling of paper. “Here. The Burning Ghost was anchored at Sandy Point in this flat bay area. Martha and I approached from the base of the isthmus and she performed the spell. I suspect it would be safe to assume that’s where the bottle would release them.”

  “Aye,” Finn said, “So, we stay on this new course, head back up to the West Coast and kill the buggers.”

  “But how do we find out exactly where they are?” Gus asked and then moaned. “We still have that delivery to make, too. Probably best to do it along the way. If they’ve been free since her arrival, then they’ve a good head start on us.”

  The three of them glanced down at me, fury in their eyes. I could feel their hate and disgust for me filling the air around us. I single handily brought back a monster. I set the evil beast free. They were definitely going to kill me. But then… did it even matter? I realized, if they were on a course to find and kill the Cobhams, then I would cease to exist at the very moment their swords drew.

  I glanced up from my spot at their feet and locked eyes with the captain as he answered them. “Easy. We follow the trail of blood and ash.”

  ***

  I remained bound and tied to the captain’s desk, only now I was alone. The sun had set, and darkness filled the room, just a gleam of moonlight highlighted the surface of the objects in the space. I cried, quietly, and grieved for my family. Not just my mom, but my entire lineage back to the Cobhams. By breaking that bottle, I accidentally changed the course of history.

  Mind you, it wasn’t an important history in terms of the world, but it was important to me. When the crew of The Devil’s Heart find and kill Maria, they’ll be wiping out half of my family’s entire existence, myself included. I wondered if I would fade away like in the movies when something happens to alter time, or would my body actually die here in the past. Either way, I remained, so the new past had yet to catch up with my future. That is to say… if time was even linear.

  Once again, the door flung open and heavy footsteps barrelled toward me. Finn then bent down next to where I sat, and he grinned through the gruff red beard. “I reckon yer hands are damn near dead by now.”

  “Does it matter?” I replied. “You guys are going to kill me, anyway.”

  The Scotsman sighed. “If we wished ye dead, we’dve fed ye to the sirens long ago.”

  I gave him a hopeless smile. “No, you don’t get it.”

  “Aye,” he replied and began releasing me from my ties. “Probably not. But I dinnae care. I’m here to bring ye to a bunk.”

  I stood when he did, rubbing my poor wrists once again, the skin chaffed and bleeding. “A bunk? You mean, to sleep? I don’t have to be tied up anymore?”

  “Well, we’ll keep an eye on ye, but there not be many places ye can flee to,” he kidded. “May as well put ye to work.”

  “Work?” I asked, afraid of what that would entail, me being the only female on a ship of burly pirates.

  “What skills do ye have?”

  “Uh, I can cook,” I told him, hoping it would be of use. “I was a very good chef back–” I stopped myself from saying the future, “back where I lived.”

  “We have a cook,” Finn told me, “Alfred. He ain’t very good, but he keeps us fed. I dinnae see the captain letting ye replace him. Alfred isn’t exactly a skilled sailor.”

  We were on deck then and Finn led me across the surface. I glanced up at the masts above us, they were like giant tree trunks with massive white sails pulled taut as the wind pushed us toward our destination. I counted four deckhands; one in the crow’s nest high above, and three tending to the many ropes and levers down here on deck.

  They eyed me with such hatred. One of them even spit at my feet as I walked past. I was the wench that brought evil down upon the world again. The reason they had to change course. They said something about going back up to the West Coast, which told me they must have been heading South. Maybe somewhere warm. Or perhaps they were on a hunt for treasure. Whatever the case, I ruined it and they despised me for it.

  We descended a small ladder to the deck below where a dozen wooden tables filled most of the space; six on each side that were built-in and fastened to the ship. A buffet-style counter sat at the front where I also spotted a wood stove, washbasins, and various barrels that no doubt contained their food. This was the cafeteria, or whatever the pirate word was for it. Mess deck?

  Finn looked at me. “This is where we eat. I’ll bring ye back up in the marnin’ for some grub.” He grabbed my arm. “Come on, then. This way.”

  We descended another ladder to the next lower deck, this one clearly reserved for sleeping. The space was lined with hammocks and dirty sacks of clothes were thrown about. Some of the crew members were sleeping so I remained quiet. The stench of sweat and other nasty things was almost unbearable. My stomach heaved, and my eyes watered as the odor filled my nostrils.

  Finn just laughed. “Aye, it’s not the prettiest of places to rest ye head, but I reckon it be better than hogtied at a desk.”

  “I beg to differ,” I whispered.

  He perked an eyebrow at my forwardness and I regretted the insult. “Well, perhaps cleaning the lower deck shall be ye first job.” He stomped over toward an empty hammock, larger and wider than the rest. “This is where ye shall be tonight. Be grateful for it. I could have slung ye in with Maurice.”

  My eyes followed where he pointed and saw an unsightly old man who seemed to be the human form of the disgusting space and he grinned at me. Not a friendly grin, either. No, he eyed me with a hunger I hoped I’d never have to satisfy and I made a mental note to stay away from Maurice.

  “Are you just going to leave me down here with…” I swallowed hard and glanced around at all the pirates I had yet to come to know. Not that I really knew Finn, but I had a sense of trust in him. However slight that may be.

  He chuckled quietly. “Nay, I’ll be restin’ me head right next to ye. This be my hammock.” He hopped in and slipped his boots off the side. “Ye best not snore, neither.”

  I nervously wrapped my jacket tightly across my torso and slowly eased my body into Finn’s hammock where I slid right up against him. He was warm, and my spine immediately thanked me for the relief. The nights spent curled up on a crate and the hours tied up on the floor left me aching. But, tired as I was, I couldn’t bring myself to close my eyes next to this strange man whose body mushed against mine.

  I felt him shift and froze as I felt his lips come close to my ear. “Ye dinnae have to worry, lass,” he whispered carefully. “As beautiful as ye may be, I dinnae fancy the curvy body of a woman.”

  I turned my head, so my eyes could meet his and found him grinning like a child who’d just told me the location of their secret hideout. “You mean–”

  The coarse skin of his palm covered my mouth. “Don’t mistaken me friendliness for compassion. Ye tell anyone what I just said, and I’ll gut ye myself.”

  I didn’t reply as he shifted his body again, so we were pretty much spooning. “Now, g’night, wench.”

  ***

  I woke the next morning, disoriented, but well-rested. At some point during the night, Finn had wrapped his giant limbs around my body and held me close like a teddy bear. My bladder sprang to life and immediately protested, but I couldn’t move a muscle. The burly Scot had me trapped.

  I wriggled and tried to wake him. “Finn. Finn, you’re crushing my body.”

  He moaned, and I felt his body tense as he stretched. “Aye, sorry. Ye was having nightmares and I couldn’t sleep next to ye flailin’ about like that.”

  “I was?”

  “I reckon,” he replied as he rubbed his face and yawned. “Moanin’ and cryin’. Ye just about flipped us over, too.”

  “Crap, sor
ry,” I told him. My bladder squeezed again. “Um, I have to, uh–”

  “Take a piss?”

  I cringed. “Yes, is there a restroom aboard?”

  “What the Christ is a restroom?” he asked, pronouncing the words as if they were foreign. Which, when I thought about it, probably were to him.

  “Like, a place to, y’know?”

  “Aye, a place to take a shyte and piss.” He rolled off his side of the hammock and straightened himself out. “Come with me, lass.”

  I copied the way he got out of the tipsy bed and followed him over to the corner of the lower deck area. A torn and soiled curtain hung from the ceiling and created a half-circle around a sketchy looking bucket.

  “Here ye go,” he said and motioned to the bucket. The smell wafted up to my face and I knew then where the majority of the room’s stench came from.

  I looked to Finn, eyes wide in fear. “You can’t be serious?”

  “As serious as a blade in the back, lass.” He turned and faced away from the make-shift restroom. “I’ll stand guard while ye do yer business.”

  Sitting on that bucket was the last thing I wanted to do but I had to pee. What else would they offer if I refused? Hang me over the side of the ship? I mustered up the courage and hover-squat over the bucket. “Could you at least sing or something, so we don’t have to listen to me pee?”

  He laughed but, thankfully, began to hum a Gaelic tune. After I was done, Finn led me to the ladder and up out of the lower deck. The change in the atmosphere, cleaner and thinner, was glorious after a night spent down there. I sucked in as big a breath as I could manage, letting the fresh air fill my lungs and noted the heavy scent of food.

  The mess deck was alive with the breakfast crew and they all stopped to stare at me. Suddenly, I was extremely aware of how I looked; frazzled, dirty, and totally out of place on a ship full of men. I remembered something that Gus had said before. Women were a bad omen on the sea. I made a note, then, to watch my back. My life could end in a split second if left alone with a superstitious sailor.

  “Aye, what are ye all gawkin’ at?” Finn growled. “Ye all never seen a woman before, or what?” He put a hand on my back and pushed me toward a table near the front where Gus waited, his food not touched.

  “About time you both got up. The day’s half gone,” Gus said by way of greeting.

  “G’marnin’ to ye, too,” Finn replied and then looked to me. “Sit. I’ll grab ye some grub.”

  I slid my butt onto the wooden bench seat, across from Gus, and nervously fiddled with my hands under the table. “Good morning.”

  He scowled. “We shall see.”

  I didn’t know what his problem was. He despised me from the moment they plucked me from the sea. But the tiny Englishman didn’t scare me.

  “What’s your deal?” I asked him. He looked confused and I remembered that I had to stop using modern lingo. “Why do you hate me? I’ve done nothing to you. I’m a good person, I swear.”

  “I don’t much care what you are,” he replied. “But you make the captain uneasy. I’ve never seen him fuss about the way he has since you were brought aboard. As Quarter Master, it is my duty to worry for him. If he doesn’t like you, then neither do I.” He then opened his jacket to reveal a pistol and dagger, letting me know not to do anything stupid. I just nodded.

  So, Gus was the ship’s Quarter Master. I knew that was, like, assistant manager, or something. I wondered what Finn’s job was. They were always together with the captain, so it was of some sort of importance. If I were to survive and try to fix the mistake I created, then I had to win over these two men. Finn was easy, and I knew his secret. However, Gus was a mystery.

  Finn came back with two bowls of a pale, lumpy slop and two lobs of stale bread.

  “Eat,” he ordered and slid one serving in front of me.

  I glanced down into the bowl and stirred the questionable substance with the silver spoon.

  “What is this?”

  “What’s the matter?” Finn blurted out between chews. “Ye ain’t never seen porridge where ye come from?”

  My eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, no, I’ve seen porridge. I make a delicious one, actually, with brown sugar and raisins and a sprinkle of chopped walnuts.” I licked my lips and then glanced down. “But this is not porridge. This is… watery goo. I can’t believe you eat this.”

  The two men exchanged curious glances.

  “Where did you say you were from, again?” asked Gus.

  Startled, I fought to find words. “The mainland?”

  “Where on the mainland?” Finn added.

  Just then, the cook came over to our table and laid a tray down next to us. “Good morning.”

  My handlers smiled and tipped their heads. I copied them.

  “I trust you slept well, miss?”

  “Yes, thank you,” I replied and cast a sideways look to Finn who was grinning behind his chunk of bread.

  “What’s our course?” Alfred asked the two pirates.

  “The captain thinks we may find the Cobhams by week’s end, if they be where he thinks,” Finn told him. “Then I reckon blood will be shed.”

  Alfred looked distraught, but I saw how he quickly hid his expression, masking it with a fake smile. “Would you gentlemen be so kind as to bring the captain his breakfast? He refuses to leave his quarters again today.”

  Now I was the curious one. “Why won’t he leave? Is he okay?”

  Finn opened his mouth to speak but Gus cut him off. “Now, that be none of yer business, wench.”

  “Look, my name is not wench. It’s Dianna,” I yelled at the pirate. He looked taken aback at my sudden forwardness. But I’d had enough. Seriously. These were all rough and tough pirates, they were being ridiculous. “I know about good porridge,” I risked a quick sideways glance at Alfred, “because I am an exceptional cook. And yes, I am a woman. On your ship. But that doesn’t mean I’m bad luck. Get over yourselves, you’re supposed to be a bunch of men. Not a bunch of sissies.” I stood to leave and swiped my stale bun. Better to have something in my stomach, and there was no way I’d even try that slop.

  But Finn grabbed my arm. “Not so fast, lassie.” He stood to meet me and scooped up the tray of food that Alfred brought over. “The captain awaits.”

  “No need, Finn,” a deep, raspy voice spoke from behind us.

  I cranked my neck to find Captain Devil Eyed Barrett standing at the base of the ladder, all decked out in his black leather, and he started toward us. Now that my brain had a chance to settle and process my new reality, I could look at him with a clearer view. The dark, terrifying eyes, the intimidating outfit, and the way he carried himself… he was everything I dreamed a ruthless pirate would be.

  But he was also unbelievably handsome. My eyes scanned the jagged line of his jaw and admired the beastly broadness of his shoulders. Devil Eyes was the epitome of a Harlequin Romance novel hero. Only… he was no hero. He was a monster. The very monster who’d killed sweet Henry.

  Everyone stood in respect as their captain made his way over to our table. “Sit,” he ordered, and they obeyed. He stopped next to Finn and looked down at the food tray he held, a look of pure disappointment clear across his face. He hated the slop just as much as I did.

  “Captain,” Alfred hastily butt in and grabbed the tray from Finn, “Let me warm this up for you.”

  Devil Eyes forced a smile and a curt nod. “Yes, that would be wonderful, thank you.”

  As Alfred scuttled off back behind his counter, the captain took a seat next to Gus, refusing to even throw a glance my way. Was I that terrifying? What threat could a single woman possibly pose on a ship? I played along like a child, not looking at him, either.

  Instead, I cast my eyes over to Alfred who appeared to be acting strangely. Only a few men remained down on the mess deck, the rest were up top and tending to their duties, so no one really paid attention to the strange cook and he didn’t notice me as I watched him fiddle with the c
aptain’s food; scooping the porridge back into a warm pot, his eyes flitting around the room nervously.

  Then, to my surprise, I saw him pull a small vial from his apron pocket. The manner in which he handled it, with care and secrecy, told me it was something bad. Alfred grabbed the steaming pot and dumped the slop back into the bowl, then quickly poured the contents of the vial in with it. I realized, then, what he was doing.

  He was poisoning the captain.

  Panic filled my veins and threw my heart into overdrive. I had two options in front of me. Sit back and say nothing, allowing this man to commit murder in front of my eyes. It would save the Cobhams and, by extension, save my entire lineage.

  Or I could stop him.

  I argued with myself as Alfred carefully carried the tray back over to our table. He set it down in front of Devil Eyes and slowly backed away, an evil grin smeared across his face. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. But the good person inside me took over my body and I threw myself across the table, knocking the tray and the spoon full of slop right out of the captain’s hands.

  Within seconds, the pirates in the room had me surrounded and Gus grabbed a hold of my arms, securing them tightly behind my back. Devil Eyes stood and came toward me, his massive stature towering over my mundane frame, anger alight in his black eyes.

  “How dare you!” he bellowed.

  “How dare I?” I choked out. “I just saved your life. Alfred was trying to poison you!”

  The group of pirates appeared confused but turned to their trusted cook for answers.

  “The woman is clearly deranged, captain,” he told them. “Why would I do such a thing?”

  “It’s true! I watched him pour a small vial of something into your porridge.”

  Alfred narrowed his beady eyes at me. “She’s lying, captain.”

  Devil Eyes drew his sword and held the tip to my neck. “Prove it.”

  “Prove it? How am I supposed to do that?”

  Just then, two rats came scuttling out from underneath the tables. I watched as they sniffed around the spilled slop and one of them began to eat it.