Every move since finding her, has been me clawing at a mess I made myself. I should’ve gutted Ivor the moment I had him within reach. Should’ve cut the head from the snake and ended it clean. Instead, I let him walk, and now the bastard’s shadow has me glancing over my shoulder every turn.
The thought of it makes my jaw ache, teeth grinding hard enough to crack. There’s no undoing it, no taking back the chance I lost. And if the moment comes again . . . when it comes—I won’t falter. Ivor’s mine. For Otto and his mutilated skin, for my crew and years of sleepless nights, for anyone else that has suffered for the greed of those who think they own the sea.
Sunrise arrives. Warm, and glowing. Salmon hues, bleeding into daffodil yellow, spill across the waves like honey. And with the arrival of the sun comes the crew. They trickle in slowly, completely unaware of the troubles I keep.
I fold my arms across my chest, pretending to sleep so I can be left undisturbed for a little while longer. It’s only when I hear a thud of boots a few paces from me do I crack an eye open to see long white braids, black leather, and a scowl.
Elio obviously told Tavi then.
Good. If my judgement can’t be trusted, then everyone should be a little more cautious.
She looks to the door then to me, and before I can utter a word she twists on her heel and stalks away.
My chest constricts again. A crushing weight that I have no choice but to carry. Tavi is so pissed at me, and rightly so. Can’t blame her. Yet what was I supposed to do? Say no to the last link I have to my mother?
Perhaps I’ve finally lost my mind. Perhaps all I’m chasing is phantoms of my own creation.
By the time midday hits, the remaining crew have returned, some more lively than others. And the shipwright, along with an eager Stiden, has finished puttingThe Gilded Hartback together.
The deck is alive with noise, boots thumping, ropes slapping, voices carrying over the sound of screeching gulls above. I make my way over, always keeping the door to my quarters in sight . . . just in case.
The port’s shipwright stands near the foremast on the quarter deck, hands on hips and a streak of tar across his cheek like war paint.
“How does she fare?” I call up to him from below.
He peers over the railing. “If you want a perfect fix you’ll have to take it to the builder, but we’ve done what we can in the time we had. It’ll keep you afloat.”
I nod before glancing up, eyes tracing the length of the mast. The patch job looks sturdy enough, but I can still see the strain in the wood where the kraken had wrapped its horrendous tentacles. We can’t afford to face something like that again. We won’t survive it a second time.
The crew hovers nearby, watching me, waiting for my word like it’ll fix everything. But it won’t. My jaw tightens. “Good enough,” I say, though the words taste bitter. “To your posts. We set sail shortly.”
The shipwright nods, already barking orders at a pair of dockhands as he goes. I let my gaze sweep the crew. Tired faces, more lined than they should be. My heart aches for what I’ve put them through.
The rest of this journey is on me and Odi. And us alone.
Footsteps sound behind me, and I swivel to find Elio. “All the crew are on deck and accounted for.”
I nod. “Otto?”
“Yeah, he’s already prepping lunch.”
A smile spreads across my lips before I can stop it. Of course he’s already in the kitchens. I have never known anyone to have the work ethic that he does. At seventeen years old, too.
He needs to know about Odi, and I want to be the one who tells him. It's my role as his captain . . . and his friend.
I flick my gaze towards my room, then back to Elio. “Watch her for me?”
He nods. “Where are you going?”
I brush past him, tossing the words over my shoulder. “I need to talk to Bear.”
The scent of roasted meats, and charred vegetables hit me the second I enter the kitchen. Something simmers in a black pot hanging over the hearth, and Otto is hunched over the bench dicing herbs and tossing them into a glass bowl that has what looks like olive oil in it.
He doesn’t hear me approach, too occupied with the task at hand.
I clear my throat. “Bear.”
As he spins he launches a bunch of rosemary towards me. I duck just before it hits me square in the face.
