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Smee pins two more nails before I can turn one red. Before she can make a snide remark, something hits the deck above us hard enough to make us both jump. Smee opens her mouth, but I don’t hear what she says over the bone-chilling scream that rends the air.
We freeze, cards dropping to the tabletop. I surge to my feet, heart pounding, and we race to the porthole. A man splashes in the water before he’s yanked beneath it by something with golden scales. Pressing my fingers to my lips, I can’t move… I can’t speak.
What just happened?
“Stay here,” Smee says, yanking a knife from the holster on her thigh. With a graceful flip, she snatches it out of the air by the blade and pushes the hilt toward me. “I mean it. I’m not sure what’s going on out there, but my brother will never forgive me if you get caught up in it.”
Hesitating, my fingers wrap around the dagger’s hilt and she lets go. Someone else screams as they fall from the ship, the sound silencing immediately as they splash into the ocean.
“Stay. Here. Nod, or something, to tell me you understand.” Smee grips my arm and I swallow hard. My head jerks in a quick nod and then she’s off, storming up the companionway and leaving me alone… With a knife I have no clue how to use.
I’ve used blades for rituals and spells, but never to defend myself. I’ve never needed to. My hands shake as I clutch the dagger to my chest, looking around the room for somewhere to hide in case I need to. There’s nothing but tables and full barrels.
Think… I promised not to leave, but I could wait by the stairs to the lower decks. If someone came down the companionway, they’d have to cross the entire mess hall floor to get to me. It’d give me time to run and there are plenty of places to hide on the lower levels.
The commotion on the deck only grows louder as I debate what to do. My mind whirls, trying to come up with backup plans for every possible scenario. Then I hear the door to the companionway whine on its hinges.
Someone is coming.
My knuckles scream as I grasp the dagger tight enough for the hilt to leave indentions in my palm. The footsteps aren’t dainty, and Smee speeds through everything. She doesn’t leisurely stroll down steps, she all but runs.
Then there’s the breathing… There’s nothing feminine about it, but it might be Sebastian. I don’t blink as I stare at the opening of the stairs, leading from the deck to the room I’m in now, and as the tip of bloodied, well-worn boots come into view, I have my answer. It’s not Sebastian. This is someone else.
My eyes widen as I quietly suck in a breath. Time to go.
I tiptoe down the stairwell before whoever coming down the companionway can see me. Hitting the floor with the crew’s quarters, I sprint through the open birthing and down the narrow hall of single-room cabins, where the higher-ranking sleep. Me included.
I couldn’t imagine having to sleep in the open, bundled in the stacked hammocks that are three high. My luck, I’d fall out of one and right on top of the person below me. If Sebastian has given me anything in our marriage, it’s my own room and the peace of mind of knowing I’m safe within it.
Reaching my room, I don’t waste a second. I burst inside, closing the door behind me. I know Sebastian enchants it at night to ensure only he and I can enter the room, but I’m not even remotely sure how it works. I haven’t bothered to test it. I haven’t had the time to. All I know is when he leaves me here, the lock latches and the scent of magic fills the air. Even when we weren’t speaking, I’d hear his boots in the hallway and him lock the door.
I could try to spell it shut myself, seal off the outside until Smee or Sebastian come for me. I’ve studied tomes upon tomes and know most by heart, but my mage magic has never been strong. During my one-on-one sessions, training with the mages to learn how to use my magic, I was never able to weave a spell tight enough to ward off a magic user. All it took was for them to pluck one translucent strand and the entire ward came down like a house of cards. It’s how I know my puppeteering ability is different and unrelated to it. I don’t think I lack the necessary magic in my soul to weave. I just don’t know how to release it.
Still, I have to try. If the person coming down those stairs is mortal, my spell will hold. If not, at least I tried.
Turning to the door, I flex my fingers and exhale slowly to center myself. “Lacklyte Gravitas,” I whisper, my voice barely above a breath as my power sings through my veins.
I extend my hand out, fingers splayed wide. Imagining the energy coursing through me, I curl each finger into my palm one by one, beginning with my pinky and ending with my thumb, drawing the power inward. As my hand forms a fist, I feel a subtle warmth emanating from it, a testament to the barrier ready to expand. Twisting my wrist hard, threads shimmer into existence, crossing and knotting together like a dream catcher.
To most, they’d be invisible. To mages and druids, we can see them—pluck them—and feel for weaknesses. Just as we know the strength of a spell by how complex the webbing of translucent lines is. The one in front of me, stretching over the doorway, isn’t the best ward out there, but it’ll have to be enough.
Dagger in hand, I move to the chest at the end of my bed, skimming my hand over the golden nameplate. It’s the trunk I intended to hide in while we were in the Luminaries. Sebastian had it brought into my room when he couldn’t spare the time to get my things from his house.
Lifting the lid, I grab the clothes he gave me from inside it and toss them behind the pillows, making sure no one will see them at first glance. Just in case…Climbing inside, I shut the lid. It’s dark as I huddle my knees to my chest.
I breathe in deeply, smelling the cedar and Sebastian’s cologne while I try to settle my breathing. The sound of every inhale and exhale echoes in the small space, making it appear louder than it truly is.
To anyone on Sebastian’s crew, it’s not a secret that I’m living in this room. I’m not naïve enough to believe that if someone was truly looking for me, specifically, they wouldn’t find me here. However, we’re on a pirate ship. No one can stay hidden forever and if someone truly wanted to find me, they would. This is all about buying time. Whatever is going on up on the deck isn’t good. I saw the worry in Smee’s eyes as she gave me the dagger. Someone like her doesn’t worry unless there’s a reason to.
For all I know, it could be mutiny, or maybe The Crocodile and his witches followed us from the Western Isles. Who knows? Hiding in here will buy Sebastian and his crew time and keep me out of it.
The echo of boots sounds from the hall, and I bite my teeth into my tongue, closing my eyes tight in a desperate attempt to stay silent. A rattle sounds as someone tries the knob of my door. I don’t think they stopped at any of the other rooms. I didn’t hear it if they did. Whoever it is, they’re looking for me, which can’t mean anything good.
A knock sounds on the wooden slab. “It’s alright, princess, the captain sent me. You can open up. You’re safe.”
Opening my eyes, I sit deathly still. Do I trust it? Anyone on this ship would know mentioning Hook would draw my ear… and if I were an enemy, I’d want my prey’s guard down. Pretending to ignore it, I stay put.
“There’s a mutiny, princess. It’s not safe for you to stay there.” The man knocks again, gently rapping his knuckles to the wood.
