“Y-yes,” the boy said, his voice stilted and unconvincing.
Doraan narrowed his eyes at the lad for a long moment, nostrils flaring, watching the child try not to squirm beneath his scrutiny. “Do you work for Forcina? Did she send you here to watch my movements after tonight?”
“I don’t know who that is!” he squeaked.
“Sure you don’t,” he snorted. “How about a quick walk to the main deck? These waters are swarming with sharks. I’m sure you’ll have a lot to say once we chum the sea and get them ready for the main course.”
The boy's eyes went wide. “I swear! No one sent me. I came on my own! I’m telling the truth! Please, I just want to get away from Aksahri. I want to work!”
“Come, boy.” Doraan released the lad’s shirt only to grab onto one of his boney, meatless arms, and forced the child out of his cabin.
He would be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t used the boy for stability as they trekked their way up to the main deck. Doraan’s leg still throbbed in a steady rhythm, quickly turning into sharp stabbing pains with each step. And, salt and sea help him, Doraan could have sworn the lad was actually pushing upward against his grip in an attempt to help Doraan walk easier.
“Please, don’t throw me in. I just want to get away,” the lad whispered.
Doraan chanced a quick glance down at the boy. There was something about the lad’s tone, a hint of defeated desperation, that stopped him short. That and the sad, exhausted look in his eyes that had Doraan believing what he told him. He was probably just searching for a way out of a bad situation.
Doraan grumbled as he stared down at the boy. How in the sea’s name had this lad come onto the ship?
Over the years, he'd watched men attempt to come aboard during their raids and attacks against merchant ships, but they were always pushed back by an unseeable force—sometimes even catapulted through the air and thrown into the sea.
Doraan had always assumed that only those locked in the curse's grasp were able to board, yet here was a lad who wasdefinitelynot part of their curse, walking beside him and trembling beneath his grip.Who was this kid?
As they ascended the last step, Doraan let his voice boom across the deck, “Jorne! Care to tell me how you allowed this child to get aboard theCursed Soul?”
Jorne’s usually lifeless eyes went wide, alight with surprise. “I’ve kept watch all night on the main deck, Cap’n. Not a soul was spotted all night. H—how is it even possible that…I—I don’t understand.”
Doraan narrowed his eyes. Those were his thoughts exactly. He looked down at the boy. “How exactlydidyou get on board?”
When the boy showed no indication of answering, Doraan shook him hard, “You best answer lad, lest you wish to be stranded on Crescent Rock for the rest of your days.”
“I climbed up the anchor rode,” the boy finally said in an almost inaudible whisper.
“The anchor rode?” Doraan said, turning his lethal gaze back upon Jorne. “Then you must have been on the main deck, is that right?”
The boy only nodded once in reply.
“Care to state your case again, Jorne?” Doraan prodded.
“Cap’n, I don’t know how the lad got aboard. Like I said, I stood watch all night, just here, searching the seas.” The stocky pirate pointed to the bridge, which provided the best vantage point for watching the ship and its surroundings.
Doraan glanced once again at the boy shivering beside him and sighed. Maybe this boy boarding the ship was just sheer luck. They’d recently lost two men and could use someone to do the more menial tasks aboard theCursed Soul. Doraan was not someone who believed everything happened for a reason. He believed very much the opposite: that everything was just random chance and people making up their own rules. His entire life had been a series of cruel human intentions and dire circumstances, but maybe this kid was some sort of sign that there were no absolutes—that circumstances could change.
“Have you ever worked aboard a vessel before, lad?” Doraan released his grip and the boy’s hand instantly shot up to rub the spot that Doraan had been gripping.
“No,” he said, eyes cast upon the wooden boards of the ship. It seemed that being the only child on board a ship full of rough edged pirates was making the boy nervous.
“We don’t bite,” he said, nudging the child with an elbow before adding, “Too much.”
The glare that the lad turned on Doraan was full of fire.There might be some spark in the kid after all, Doraan thought.
“Well men, looks like we have a new cabin boy! Give him a dressing down,” Doraan said, turning his back on the crew. He paused at the top of the steps leading down into the hull, looking once more at the young man. The wind shifted around him, bringing with it the familiar scent of lily mixed with something sweet, like vanilla. Something strange was churning in the atmosphere; something, he feared, was changing.
He narrowed his eyes, giving the boy a final nod. “Welcome aboard theCursed Soul.”
4
Kamira
