Page 22 of The Last Lost Girl

The crew resumes their efforts to pull us upward and we rise toward the ship’s deck one tug and a few feet at a time.

I stiffen beneath his arm. “How can you be so sure she’s not a threat anymore?”

The creature emits a rusted noise and arches her back. “Because they use their voice to lure their prey, and she no longer has hers. I took it.”

Took it? What the hell does that mean?

“What if she breaks loose, or what if her friends see her there and come to free her?”

“Her friends,” he smiles at the word, “aren’t coming to rescue her and she knows it. The only loyalty those creatures have is to themselves. She’s been staked up there for eight days and there she will remain – as a warning to her friends. The only way she’ll touch the sea again is when her corpse desiccates enough for gravity to grant her that small mercy, or if another of her kind is foolish enough to try what she did and I’m forced to cut her away to make room for another.”

I swallow thickly as more rusted noises scrabble from the creature’s throat, the sounds more frantic than before as the mermaid reaches her clawed, webbed fingers toward me. I notice a very precise hole in her throat when she twists to face me as much as she can. I already know exactly what – and who – punctured it, and what he meant when he claimed he took her voice.

We swing to the right, my face only inches from his until I crane my head backward.

“Have you ever been bewitched by a mermaid’s song?” I ask, wondering how common an occurrence it is in Neverland.

“Not yet,” he declares as though it’s a possibility. And it must be. He’s a man like any other, no different from the one who willingly followed her into the sea.

We reach the ship’s top rail and a bronze-skinned bald man the size of a city bus clasps his hands around my waist and lifts me out of Hook’s arms. He looks from Hook to me and offers a greeting. “Hello, Miss.”

I mumble an awkward Hi as he sets me on the ship’s deck. In the next instant, I teeter and lose my balance, putting weight on my bum ankle and hissing when sharp pain burns white-hot through it.

The giant man pulls Hook aboard next and grimaces at the sight of my offending extremity. “That looks bad.” He drags a barrel over for me to sit on and lifts me onto it like a father might pick up his child and set them onto a counter to tend to a scraped knee.

He’s ruggedly handsome and something about his features reminds me of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, even though I’m pretty sure he’s at least twice the actor’s size.

The giant drops to one knee and reaches toward my injured foot but draws back before he touches my skin. He raises his eyes to mine and asks, “May I?”

The kindness and gentleness in his tone is unexpected. I lift my foot and try to tell him it’s okay, but he offers a quick smile before placing my heel in one of his large palms and slowly running his thick fingers over the puffed tissue on either side and on top of the ankle.

Hook crosses his arms and leans against the railing, quietly watching as the man completes his examination.

I clear my throat and look around the deck. A few men walk here and there doing… whatever it is that sailors and pirates do to maintain their ship. I turn back to the man trying to help me.

“Are you a doctor?” I ask.

The giant chuckles. “No, I’m not formally trained; I’ve just seen my fair share of injuries. Learned how to help with certain things from experience.”

“A self-taught man. That’s awesome.” Maybe if I make friends with him, he’ll intervene if Hook decides I’m a better option for his figurehead.

He laughs. “I’ve certainly seen several ankle breaks and rolls.”

“Please tell me it’s the latter.”

He grimaces, then looks toward Hook, who gives him the barest nod. I want to ask what’s going on, what they’re silently saying to one another and excluding me from, but the man lowers my foot. “I can’t tell for certain until the swelling goes down. If it’s a break, it’s not an obvious one, so that gives me hope that it’ll heal up quickly. Though you’ll have to stay off it as much as you’re able for the time being.”

He looks to his captain again with another question in his eyes. He’s probably wondering what to do with me now.

“Have the tub filled for her,” Hook tells the man.

“Of course,” the gentle giant agrees. He gives me a kind smile. “Are you hungry? While you clean up, I could find something for you to eat, if you like.”

Part of me wants to refuse. I’m not sure I can trust the pirates’ food, but I also can’t go much longer without eating and stay strong enough to figure out my next move. I haven’t eaten a bite since leaving for my shift at the aquatic center, and that granola is long gone. I usually get breaks and can have a snack, but we were short-staffed and couldn’t leave our towers. I’d planned to warm up some leftover ramen from the little shop down the street when I got home, but then everything happened with Belle and my empty stomach was the last thing on my mind.

“She doesn’t trust you,” Hook tells the man with a bemused smirk, shaking his head like I’m being ridiculous.

At first the gentle man looks confused, then hurt washes over his features. But those emotions drain away to another kind smile as he braces his hands on his thighs. “If I were her, I wouldn’t trust us either,” he declares. “Why should she?” He pats my knee, then stands. “I’ll prepare it myself, if that sets you at ease.”

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