Page 108 of Foul Days

“Wait, you idiot!” she shouted again.

Blackbeard hesitated for a second, and she seized the opportunity. “You have to know how to make the shadows yours. You can’t take them otherwise.”

He must have felt some sincerity in her voice, since he loosened his grip. “How?”

“You need to say the magic words.”

“And what are the magic words?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Kosara forcefully pushed her shadow sickness up her arms, towards where Blackbeard’s fingers sank into her skin, leaving him grasping nothing but shadows.

While he turned around, confused, she slid away from him and kicked him in the shin. He staggered forwards, crashing into the railing. His hands searched for something to hold onto.

Blackbeard was a tall man, and the railing was low. He bent in half over the water. His eyes grew wider. His nails clawed at the railing, in vain.

There was a split second in which Kosara could grab him and drag him back on deck. His terrified eyes looked at her, pleading. His hands reached for her.

But then Kosara saw it: he wasn’t trying to hold onto her so he’d stay on board. He wanted to drag her down with him.

She slammed her hands into his body. His feet lost all purchase. The last thing Kosara saw before he tumbled overboard were his eyes, wide with horror.

A splash sounded, followed by a throaty scream. “Get me out of here! Please get me out!” Another splash. “Man overboard, man over—”

In the sea below, the rusalkas shrieked. Then there was silence.

Kosara grasped the railing with both hands. Her head spun. Her eyes searched the dark water, her breath escaping in fast, choked gasps.

All that was left of Blackbeard was his wide-brimmed hat, floating on the waves. His bones would soon rise up, white with salt and picked clean.

Kosara wasn’t sure how long she stood there, staring at the sea, waiting. She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Something red emerged from the thick fog surrounding the ship. Then, Asen put his hand on her shoulder.

“Kosara.” He was trying to keep his tone neutral, she could tell, but his eyes were full of concern. “I heard you shouting. What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Kosara turned back towards the waves. Where was Blackbeard? His bones should have surfaced already. She tried to chase away the image of the rusalkas holding him underwater, their talons tearing his flesh, their bubbling laughter echoing around him.

“Where’s Blackbeard?” Asen asked.

Kosara nodded towards the hat floating in the waves. “He wanted his compass.” Her voice was hoarse after all the screaming. “He fell.” She thought about it. “I pushed him.”

“It sounds like self-defence to me.”

Kosara let out a throaty laugh. Where had she heard that one before?

Everywhere she went, she left a trail of ghosts behind her.

Asen considered her for a long moment, before his police training kicked in. He draped his coat over her shoulders. At first, she tried to push him away—she didn’t deserve him being this nice after what she’d done—but then she changed her mind. The coat was soft and warm, and blessedly dry. It smelled like him. She wrapped herself tightly in it until her teeth stopped clicking.

“Come on.” Asen gently led her down the stairwell. “We’ll catch a cold if we stay out here.”

Blackbeard was dead. They drifted through a sea full of monsters on an unmanned ship. And Asen was worried about colds!

“Come on.” He kept his hand on her shoulder until they reached below deck. Kosara’s feet left wet marks on the carpet.

“Do you know how to control the ship?” Asen asked.

Kosara blinked. “What?”

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