Page 8 of Pearls of Salt and Sacrifice

“I’ve ordered my hunters to take care of the sharks,” he said, breathing heavily as water streamed down his face. “We’re trying to create a perimeter so you can focus on the survivors.”

“Thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say.

Jareth held her gaze for a moment longer and then released his grip. Inhaling deeply, he bobbed up and then disappeared into the waves without a sound.

He did not reappear.

“I believe he has stayed true to his word,” Isla said with a wry laugh.

“I suppose he has,” Reva said, wondering how Isla could find humor at a time like this.

However, Isla had been at sea since she was thirteen years old and had likely seen every tragic, ugly, awful thing the ocean had to offer. She was as weathered and seasoned as any sailor. Yet, beneath her gruff surface, was a heart that tolerated no cruelty and longed for justice.

The older girl was the closest thing to a role model and best friend Reva had ever had.

With the assistance of the sea elves, rescue efforts picked up speed. The elves swam to the victims faster than the boats could row and kept them afloat until they could be fetched from the water. And true to Jareth’s word, when Reva scanned the ocean around them, she saw nary a shark fin.

A strange patch of darkness floating on the surface of the water caught her eye.

“Over there!”

Reva pointed, directing Isla and the other crewmates in her longboat. Isla nodded, and they set to rowing vigorously toward the blackened hull of Felix’s ship. As they rowed closer, the acrid smoke burned her eyes and throat. Reva pressed her arm over her face and blinked away stinging tears. She searched the water for any sign of sailors that the sea elves might have missed. She spotted only debris from the Endellion, most still sputtering with flame.

And the strange black substance on the surface.

Blood?

No, not blood. There was far too much of it. Also, it was black—with the darkness of ink rather than the crimson of blood.

“Do you think the powder magazine exploded?” Isla asked as she pulled gently on the oar to try to keep the dinghy in place.

Reva dipped her fingers into the substance and examined it more closely. “I don’t know. What do you think of this?”

Isla leaned forward for a better look. “Looks like oil of some sort.”

“But then why didn’t it burn?”

Before Isla could respond, a shout from a nearby sea elf caught their attention.

“I need help,” the female elf called.

The sailor, clearly in great pain, flailed so violently that the sea elf struggled to keep his head above water.

“Over there first,” Reva said.

The sailors drew alongside the elf. Isla and Reva leaned over to heave the wounded sailor aboard the longboat. He lay wailing in agony in the bottom of the boat, half his face drenched in blood. And his right shoulder…Reva couldn’t even look at the carnage.

They rowed to the Perseus to unload the survivors using the plank and ropes. Albus, the ship’s powder monkey and mascot of sorts, climbed down to help. As they secured their last victim to the plank, the sailor screamed in agony.

“Oy.” Isla detained Albus who lingered on the bottom rung of the ladder once the last wounded victim had been lifted up.

“Aye, ma’am?” The boy, barely more than twelve years old, clung to the side of the ship like a seasoned sailor.

“What did you see before Prince Felix’s ship burst into flames?” Isla asked. “Anything of note?”

Albus, clutching a rung with one hand, scratched his head with the other. “I was in the crow’s nest,” he said as a hint of color darkened his cheeks. “Trying to spy—er, watch—the proceedings on land.”

Despite the gravity of the moment, Reva smiled at the lad’s slip. He wouldn’t have been able to hear anything from the ship, but she found it amusing he’d been determined to try. More than likely, the rest of the crew had put him up to it.

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