Page 84 of The Secrets of Jane: Reborn
Brightly colored sails are repurposed as awnings or hammocks, shading market stalls laden with exotic goods—gleaming pearls, polished bones carved into trinkets, and bottles of strange liquids, and even one woman is selling shriveled hands. Another vendor waves a stick of roasted meat through the air, the smell making my stomach grumble despite my nerves, desperate to eatfreshmeat. Somewhere nearby, a blacksmith hammers at glowing metal with a rhythmic clang.
It never dawned on me that there would be an ecosystem of merchants here. I don’t even really think I gave it much thought, to consider a kingdom belonging tooneperson.
Tempest doesn’t pause for anything, weaving through the chaos with so much belonging that I cannot imagine living a life whereeveryoneknows me, and they live onmyland. I struggle to keep up, nearly tripping when I sidestep a burly pirate dragging a net filled with wriggling, silver-scaled fish. He grunts a half-apology before barking at a kid to haul over a barrel of salt.
The bustling life of Tempest’s harbor finally fades as we climb a winding path toward the more wooded part of the island, the surrounding sand morphing slightly into soil around our walkway. Tempest points out a single-story shanty with a roof made of woven palm leaves and shutters painted a faded, peeling red. It’s nestled among a cluster of similar homes, overlooking the sea from its perch on a rocky rise.
“There are nicely arranged shanties that way,” she says, motioning with her hand. “It’s where all your men can stay, Soren. Provisions will be provided.Thishome here will be for you and Miss Jane.”
It’s interesting that this time, there’s noneedfor Soren and me to be housed together. I’m not his prisoner, nor his bounty.There’s clearly space for us to have our own separate quarters and yet she’s automatically pairing us together.
Clearly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I need that man’s invasion of my heart at night to sleep soundly.
The door creaks open when she guides us in, revealing a sparsely furnished room with three hammocks strung on ceiling beams. A table dominates the opposite wall, its surface strewn with a scatter of crumpled maps, half-burnt candles, and empty bottles. The air is slightly musty but tolerable, the space dimly lit from the morning light that pours through the cracks of shuttered windows. Tempest steps inside and opens the shutters—no glass for the windows. “You’ll want the hammocks to sleep in to help with the dizziness. A shot ofleggingsis already in place inside, the one with the green cork. We usually keep it here.” She looks me up and down, smirking. “The pirate look works for you.”
I stare after her as she leaves the shanty, the sound of her speaking to others getting drowned out the further she moves away from us. Behind me, Soren’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Are you alright to stay in here, by yourself? Everything about this island feels neutral to me, and while it’s peaceful, I want to get things arranged.”
I glance over my shoulder, managing a faint smile. “Of course. I’m just a little dizzy, like my legs can’t catch any balance.”
“It’s why Skull’s harbor is a clusterfuck of levels that all seem like they move. It’s easier to walk on that than hard land.” He leans forward to brush his lips against my forehead, more so my bandana, in a fleeting moment of tenderness. “I need to ensure everyone is settled properly. And the men need a proper moment of silence for those that died, probably a round of ale or rum. You can come to that, but youshouldrest for a momentand let that shot work. There will be a dozen of your father’s men outside while I’m gone. He already agreed to it.”
It’s so odd to think my dad and Soren are talking about me when I’m not around, even arranging my safety. Just over two months ago, it was only Kathleen looking out for my shadow…
Godsthat hits me hard.
I fucking miss her.
I nod at Soren, my smile lessening. “Yeah, go ahead. I’m going to drink that leg stuff and lie down in a hammock for a bit.”
Soren hesitates, that space between words where something more might be spoken opening between us, but he turns to leave, his stride purposeful as the door swings shut behind him. I’ve gotten used to him needing to depart quickly, his people relying on his presence.
“We’re at Stormbreak, but don’t let down your guard,”Soren says, and it’s clear he’s speaking to those who are stationed outside.“Be as quiet as possible, so Jane can rest. The nights are about to become very long. My men will be here to rotate out with you shortly.” That’s the last I hear of him as I spot Soren walking away through a crack in the shutters near the front.
The shanty settles into quietness as I’m left alone, save for the faint creak of wood expanding and contracting under the island’s humidity.
Uncorking the bottle and downing the liquid in one go, my face scrunches and my body gives a little shudder, a sharp, earthy tang of crushed leaves, followed by a jarring spice that burns like fire—or what Iimagineit feels like to be singed, now that I realize I’ll never truly know. It’s smoothed over by an unexpected creaminess, almost like milk, but it sure as hells won’t be something I reach for frequently. Grimacing, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and sink into the nearest hammock. It sways gently as I let my body relax into it. Sureenough, the motion is quite soothing in comparison to a floor that seems far too stable.
I close my eyes, trying to ground myself. The dizziness slowly starts to ebb, my breathing slowing. When I open them again, the morning light has shifted, painting the room in streaks of amber and gray through the window Tempest opened, the one that overlooks the ocean.
A shadow flits across the wall, along with the sound of flapping, feathery wings.
I fall out of the hammock in a panic, landing onlyslightlygracefully. My heart races as black feathers flap fiercely inside the shanty. A raven banks a sharp left before landing on the table, its crimson eyes gleaming, unnaturally burning with intelligence.
I don’t have enough time to register what I’m experiencing before feathers dissolve into smoke, its body twisting, elongating, reforming into something altogether more human.
Cypress.
She settles into her form like she might if she were floating underwater, her black eyes teeming with unsettling, predatory energy. “Hello, Jane,” she says, her voice carrying the faintest otherworldly echo.
Fuck.
J A N E
“What are youdoingin here? They’ll be here any moment,” I say through tight lips, glaring at the witch. My gaze shifts to the door, expecting the outside men to come barreling inside at any moment.
“Don’t worry about them. They won’t be aware of this meeting occurring. I’m sure you can guess why I’m here?”
My heart races, a sinking sensation pulling down on my stomach. It’s more than obvious why she’s here, but it alsomakes my blood fiercely pound through my veins. Everything has beengood. My father is weirdly distant, but I feel peace now, like there’s a real closure there. My heart burns for Soren in ways I didn’t know it could. Bones is actually kind of funny, and Anya doesn’t seem to hate me.
