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33
We arrive on the island a little after 5am just as the first tendrils of light are brightening the sky. The crossing was rough and Eastern suffered. In fact, Sonny and Kate didn’t fare well either. Me, Ford and Camden, alongside our illustrious captain, have stomachs made of steel, clearly. Though if I’m honest, there’s nothing quite like feeling alive when a storm’s raging around you. I’ve always loved a good storm. I was born during one, after all. It’s in my blood.
“We were lucky,” Malakai shouts over the roaring wind as he secures the boat to the dock. “The storm is set to worsen before it gets better. It’ll hang around for at least the next 12 hours. There’ll be no crossings to or from the island until tomorrow morning at least. It could move along quicker, or it might stay longer. We’ll see.
“Lucky?” Eastern groans, heaving for the hundredth time since we got on the boat a little over an hour ago. “Just get me off this fucking thing.”
Reaching for him and trying to steady myself against the raging wind and undulating water beneath us, I help him climb down off the boat. When his feet hit the dock he flat out lies down, groaning. “Fuck me, I am never getting on a boat ever again.”
“As soon as I get Princess secure, we’ll head off.”
“Princess?” Sonny mutters, climbing down onto the deck and bending over next to me. “Fuckinghellionmore like.” He sucks in a few ragged breaths as I rub his back. Poor guy.
A shaky, pale-skinned Kate is next to disembark, followed by Ford and Camden. I’m pretty sure she would’ve joined Eastern lying down on the deck if Camden hadn’t wrapped an arm around her shoulder and let her lean into him. She kind of stiffens when I look over at them, but I’m not jealous. Not in the slightest. Camden isn’t trying to come onto to her, he’s merely being a friend,kind. I give her a gentle smile, before flicking my gaze to Camden. He stares at me with a fire in his eyes that burns bright, so bright that I have to look away. Nope, he’s definitely not interested in Kate.
“You doing okay?” Sonny asks me, straightening up and twining his fingers with mine. He’s not as green as Eastern, but he’s not exactly looking at the peak of health either. Frankly, we all look more than a little dishevelled. Ford and Camden are sporting cuts and bruises from the brawl last night and the rest of us are windblown and either green with sea sickness or pale with worry. The only person who is unaffected is Malakai. I don’t know him at all, but I know that he was born to live on the sea. There’s a kind of wildness about him that matches the storm that whips around us all. I mean, we’re all a little wild, but Malakai’s wildness is a different kind to my boys. Theirs is born from necessity, fighting to live, to survive. Malakai’s, like mine, is ingrained in his very soul, his DNA.
“I’m cold and hungry, but that’s nothing,” I respond, allowing Sonny to wrap me in his arms and pull me into his chest momentarily. But getting warm and eating aren’t really an option right now. We have a friend to rescue. I reluctantly step out of Sonny’s arms and approach Malakai. He’s securing the boat, his large hands and fingers surprisingly nimble. He ties off a complicated-looking knot, then straightens.
“Grab that.” He points to another length of rope. My hands are stiff with cold and I can barely get a secure hold on the thick girth when Ford bends down beside me and has grabbed the rope, handing it to Malakai who nods his thanks and secures that rope too. I wait until he’s finished before I blurt out my most pressing question.
“How do we get to the palace?” I ask.
Wind whips my hair about my face, tiny little lashes pricking at my skin. The harbour is empty bar a couple of fishermen who are giving us strange looks. It’s not every day a bunch of ragtag kids like us step onto their dock, I suppose. Above us thunder rumbles so loudly that Kate jumps. She lets out a nervous laugh when a second later lightning rips through the sky. Then the heavens open. Within seconds, we’re drenched.
“We’re not going there right now,” Malakai responds, grabbing a bag from the dock and slinging it on his shoulder. He seems oblivious to the rain and my anger.
“What the fuck do you mean, we’re not going there now?” Camden growls.
“Ma Silva is expecting us,” Malakai shouts over the roaring wind, water running in rivulets over his face. Kate is desperately trying to tuck her backpack under her coat in a vain attempt to protect the stolen laptop.
“What? No way! We need to get to our friend, right fucking now!”
“Not until tonight you don’t,” Malakai retorts, looming over me now. I have to crane my head back to look up at him. The guy’s a fucking giant. Not that I can see him very clearly, given my hair is now successfully plastered to my face.
“Tonight is hours away. She hasn’t got that long. We came here to rescue Pink and that’s what we’re going to do, with or without your help,” I bark, swiping at the wet tendrils covering my face. Malakai gives me a look that tells me he’s not a man to mess with. Another time I might’ve backed off. Not today. “Grim must’ve told you about the danger she’s in? We’re not fucking waiting for you to get your shit together.”
“Listen, you’ll do what the hellIsay whenIsay it. We have one window of opportunity to get into the King’s palace and that isn’t happening until 7pm tonight. Got it?”
“That’s hours away!” I shout back, blood pumping in my veins as more lightning cracks overhead.
“You think I don’t have a plan or a reason for leaving it until then to make our move? I’ve been doing this shit a long fucking time and I’m telling you, we don’t do anything until tonight. The storm will keep anyone from arriving or leaving and according to Ma Silva your friend…”
“Pink,” I snap.
“Your friendPinkis alive, but she won’t stay that way if you and your friends here make any rash decisions. Understand? For the time being you keep your heads down at Ma’s place.”
Behind me, Ford steps close and rests his hand on my arm. “Listen to Malakai, he knows what he’s talking about.”
“Does he, or is he just another fucking fool that pretends he does?” I growl back. “I’m kinda done with trusting people.”
Malakai raises a brow. “You’ve got a lot to learn, kid,” he says, before striding off along the dock leaving me glaring after him. A lot to learn about what? Him? I have no desire to learn anything about the dude.
By the time we reach Ma Silva’s cottage, which is another fifteen minutes’ walk in the freezing rain and lashing wind, I’m cold to the very marrow of my bones. I don’t think much of the place. The island is depressing at best and goddamn brutal at worst. There are no convenience stores that I’ve noticed on our torturous walk, barely any streetlights and a lot of fucking cows and fields. Even though dawn is rising, it may as well still be midnight given the ominous, thick black clouds and torrential rain.
Malakai bangs on the door of a large secluded farmhouse set back off the main road by a long winding path. We all stand shivering behind him. My teeth are chattering so hard that I’m pretty sure I’m going to chip a few if we don’t get inside the warmth soon. At least, I hope it’s fucking warm. The outside of the place looks as dilapidated as the rest of the island. I mean, really, who the fuck wants to live here? It’s too cut off from the world and as harsh as the streets of Hackney, just in a different way. The door swings open and I’m surprised to find that Ma Silva isn’t some grey, wizened old biddy, but a young woman only a few years older than me I’d guess. I catch the look of surprise on Kate’s face between the hood of her coat pulled low over her head and the scarf wrapped around her mouth. She was expecting someone much, much older too.
“Why areyouhere?” is all Malakai says in greeting, if you can call it that. What a rude arsehole.
