“You’re really going in there?” Zayan’s voice cuts through the air, dripping with amusement. “Thought you didn’t like jungles, Flint. Something about getting tangled up in all those vines…”
Fuck. I swallow the first prick of fear, but it’s already there, clawing its way up my throat.
“All those deadly bugs beneath your feet...” His voice follows, taunting, “One sting, and it’s all over. Foaming at the mouth. Dead in seconds. Awful way to go.”
I clench my teeth, but his voice digs in. The images come fast, uninvited. My skin tingles like something’s crawling on me, even though there’s nothing there.
“Then there’s the plants,” he continues, like he’s enjoying every second. “Some of them will bleed you from the inside out. One brush, and that’s it.”
The pounding in my chest drowns out everything else. The trees seem to close in, towering overhead, and the ground beneath my boots feels too soft, sinking like it’s pulling me under.
I stop. Frozen. My breath comes too fast, ragged. The shadows close in, growing darker, and I can’t take another step.
Zayan’s voice is still there, circling in my head. Laughing. Mocking. Reminding me of every reason I should be terrified.
I’m not scared of him. Not the sea. Not even the gods. But this—thisjungle—
I take a step back, trying to steady myself, but I’m locked up, trembling. My hands clammy, legs refusing to move. I don’t even want to breathe too hard, in case something slithers out of the underbrush.
I don’t know how long I stand there, paralyzed, the world shrinking until black spots dance in my vision. And then—
Strong arms scoop me up. I blink, and suddenly I’m back on the sand, staring up into Zayan’s smug face.
“Looked like you needed a little rescue,” he grins, not even trying to hide the laugh.
“Put me down,” I hiss, fists pounding against his chest, but it’s half-hearted. I don’t have the strength.
“Now, now. I thought we were past this. You know I’m only here to help.” He sets me down, but not before patting my arm like I’m some helpless damsel. I swat his hand away.
“I don’t need your help. Ever,” I snap, trying to gather what little dignity I have left. My knees still feel weak, my head swimming with the remnants of that panic, but I refuse to let him see it.
He doesn’t flinch. “You need me because, like it or not, I know you, Gypsy Flint. I know you’d rather let that jungle swallow you whole than admit it. And that bard you call a crewmate? Useless. He’ll serenade you both into a death trap.” His voice drops, sharper now, cutting through whatever defenses I still cling to. “Without me, you’re stranded. Your only hope is to get that ship back to Escindida, but we both know Silverbeard will gut you before you get a chance to explain this mess. So, what’s left? Wandering. Starving. Praying you find a safe spot before someone else finds you. It’s a gamble you can’t afford, and you know it.”
I grit my teeth, my glare burning into him. Every word he says tightens a knot in my chest because he’s right. That’s what makes it unbearable.
“But I’ll help you,” he continues, softer now, as if the sharpness in his voice wasn’t enough. “If you stop pushing me away. So, yeah, you need me. It’s time to deflate that ego of yours and face the truth.”
I want to spit back something venomous, but the words die in my throat. Instead, I look away, scanning the horizon for some kind of answer. There’s no telling what tonight will bring if we’re still here by then.
“I don’t need you, Cagney,” I mutter quietly. “But I’ll use you. For now.”
He chuckles. “Use me all you like, love.” A brief pause. “That’s what I’m here for.”
***
“So, what are your orders, Captain?” Zayan asks some time later, as I drink the juice from a coconut he somehow managed to find. I don’t even know where he got it from, and honestly, I don’t care. He left me for a few minutes under the pretense of needing to relieve himself, but now I’m starting to think that was a load of shit. He probably just wanted to give me a moment to gather myself, let the grip of this damn jungle loosen so I wouldn’t snap.
He knows me too well.
Still, it pisses me off how easy everything comes to him. In most situations, I’d be the one calling the shots, the threat that everyone’s watching out for. But right now? I feel like a helpless damsel in distress, sitting here drinking coconut juice like it’s going to solve all my problems.
“I’m not your captain,” I mutter, scooping out the coconut meat with a broken seashell once the juice is gone. My stomach growls loud enough to scare off the birds in the trees, and Irealize it’s been two days since I’ve had a decent meal. The last time I ate was back on Silverbeard’s ship before he dropped me off at Escindida.
“Yet,” he quips.
I clench my jaw, biting back the retort that wants to spill out. As much as I’d love to hurl the coconut at his smug face, it’s the only food I’ve had in days—and he did find it, after all. I chew another bite slowly, my gaze narrowing on him as I swallow.
“Even if you’re useful now, I don’t need Roche’s deserter dragging down my crew,” I say flatly. “Silverbeard might pretend I don’t exist, but Roche? He’ll hunt you to the ends of the sea until there’s nothing left but bones. You’re bad business, Cagney.”
