Page 130 of A Flash of Golden Fire

“Everyone?”

“Simon, you’ve saved our lives three times now.”

The black cloud over me threatened to return.

“Yes, by killing loads of other people,” I muttered, feeling sick to my stomach again at the thought of all of those deaths.

“We’repirates, Simon,” Mr Guthrie said. “We kill people all the time. The captain might like to use a fancier word for us, but that’s what we are. We’re all thieves and murderers.”

I made a sound like a laugh that turned into another sob.

“Not like me.”

He sighed. “No, not like you. But, you know, that there’s a cruel world, Simon White. An awfully cruel world. I don’t know where your magic comes from, or how you came into these abilities, or what they make you, but I thank God for them every day. I really do.”

“Truly? You don’t worry about…everything else?”

There was movement in the corner of my vision, and I spied Dinesh walking towards us with the aid of the walking stick. The walking stick he needed because of the wound he’d suffered. My heart filled, and I forgave him in that moment.

“No, I don’t,” Guthrie continued. “Because whatever powers you have, they ain’t a gift you have much control of, are they?”

“No,” I admitted.

Even when I’d deliberately called the storm on top of the storm, I hadn’t any idea of the breadth or the power of the result.

“Then it’s not your fault.”

I nodded and relaxed my grip on Guthrie’s jacket. “I suppose…perhaps…”

“I’ve got him, Mr Guthrie. You can go back on deck. The party’s resumed,” Captain Martin said.

Mr Guthrie stepped back and tipped his head to the captain. As he walked past, Captain Martin stopped him with a hand to his arm. “Thank you.”

“Aye. Well, he’s like a son to me now,” Guthrie muttered, and I almost started crying again.

Mr Guthrie took his leave, and Dinesh stood there, gazing at me with so much love and affection I could hardly bear it.

“I’m sorry I lied to you, Simon,” he said. “I was trying to protect you.”

I nodded, afraid to speak. If I opened my mouth I might lose the precarious control I had over myself.

I pointed at the walking stick.

He looked at the staff with a sigh. “The blasted thing’s turned out to be quite handy, in fact.” He focused on me with a look of concern. “Are you all right?”

The tears coursed down my cheeks, and I shook my head, and the captain came forward and caught me in his arms as my knees gave way. He held me close and whispered kind things into my ear and stroked the hair back from my forehead and kissed me all over my face. And I’d never felt so loved and cherished, ever in my whole life, except for when my mam had been alive.

Chapter Twenty

In Good Hands

Iwas helping Squid with the animals. He was good with them, I had to admit. We were down to three chickens, of course, but Mr Guthrie was getting an average of four eggs a day, which he used for the captain’s and my breakfast. I was a little embarrassed to be hogging the eggs, but then again, they were still thriving thanks to me.

The goats, however, remained a challenge.

I was telling Squid what the captain had said to me that morning—that he was tired of picking my clothes up off the floor and was thinking of making me his cabin boy, slash, housekeeper again.

The cheek!

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