Alden nodded.“Aye.But your father said it could only be destroyed at that precise spot.”
Mark this, Caleb,his father had said.Sail northwest from the southern tip of Eleuthera until Polaris rests a handspan above the horizon.At 25 degrees, 3 minutes North, and by my calculation, some 71 degrees, 2 minutes West, lies the place of reckoning.When the moon is high and the waters lie still, drop anchor.You’ll know the place, the mouth of the Devil, himself.That is where the Ring must be cast into the sea—where sky and water meet in unnatural calm.
It wasn’t like his father to speak with such mystery and awe, as if failure to do as he asked would bring about the end of the world.Caleb snorted.Nay, he’d rather be rounding up pirates, attacking Spanish merchants, or defending the poor and disadvantaged.Not escorting a silly Ring only to throw it into the sea.But then again, nothing connected with this Ring made any sense.
Movement caught his eye, and he turned to see Liam behind them.When had his bosun joined them on the quarterdeck?Better yet, how much had he overheard, for Caleb did not want him knowing about the Ring.Nor anyone else aboard the ship.
He turned to Shorty, the helmsman, “Two points north by northwest.Keep her steady.”Aye, they would make their way to the Devil’s Mouth, as his father called the spot.Trouble was, with all the recent disasters and strange happenings, Caleb couldn’t be sure that once they got there, it would not swallow them whole.
♥
Clutching the captain’s cloak tightly to her chest, Desi paced the tiny cabin, as she’d been doing most of the night.A ray of sunlight pierced the gloom and shifted up and down over her hand with the movements of the ship.Her hand.She’d been staring at it for hours.Would the beast really cut it off as he had threatened?If so, she’d never be able to dive again, to captain a ship, to run her business!Halting, she bit her lip.What was she thinking?Tossing the Ring down had done no good.She was still here—whereverherewas.Orwheneverit was.
And now she had no idea how to get back home.
Worse, she was at the mercy of some crazed missionary pirate.Only a dream could be this bizarre.But how to wake herself up?
The lock on the door clanked, and she backed against the bulkhead, awaiting her fate, a butcher perhaps with an axe and a gleam in his eye as he stared at her hand.
An African American woman stepped inside, the same one she’d seen in the captain’s cabin, the same one who had called her an evil witch.Yet now, the whites of her eyes widened as they studied Desi with apprehension…or was it curiosity?At least they weren’t filled with spite as they’d been yesterday.
The woman took another step forward and held out a bundle of fabric.“Captain says put this on.”Her voice was deep and soothing, almost musical, yet not angry or hateful.“An’ here’s a biscuit to break your fast.”
Desi took the dress and the biscuit, which felt more like a rock.“Thank you.”
The woman turned to leave.
“What is your name?”
She spun around.“Ayida, Miss Ayida Noire.”
“I hear French in your voice, Ayida.”
“Creole.”
“Yes, of course.”If Desi remembered her history, Creole was both a language and a person of mixed descent between European and Black.
Ayiida folded her hands atop a red apron that was tied around her dress.A matching scarf hid her hair.Still, she remained, studying Desi as if she were some oddity.
If she only knew.
“Do you still think I’m a witch?”Desi dared ask.
“I don’t knows what you are, Miss.I’s just protectin’ de captain as best I can.”
Desi nodded.“How do you come to be on this ship?”
“De captain hired me as cook.”A slight smile prompted Desi to keep the woman talking.The more she knew about the ship and the captain, the better.
“What do you know about him?”
“I knows he’s a good man.I was alone an’ starving on de streets of Jamaica when de captain an’ his father rescued me.”
Ah, so maybe the missionary part was true.“How long have you sailed with him?”
“A few months.”
Desi gripped her hand and began rubbing it.“Would he cut off my hand as he threatened?”
