Page 31 of Virelai's Hoard
Calla held up a hand, and the sailors reluctantly quietened. “I urge you to take this seriously. I am deeply grateful for the trust you’ve put in me over the years, but I will not take advantage of it, nor ask you to risk your lives for something you don’t believe in.”
That last part was accompanied with a subtle look towards Sable, and Riley could almosthearthe first mate gritting her teeth even from a dozen feet away.
“Beforeyou make your considerations,” Calla pressed through a fresh wave of protests, “you should know that the Wraithspine Isle is our next stop. The waters there are mostly uncharted, and once we set sail, there will be no turning back. This is your one and only chance to back down. There won’t be another. Your lives will be at risk every step of the way past this point.”
Was Callatryingto convince them to give up?
Ignatius, of all people, spit loudly on deck. “We’ve been risking our lives every day since we set foot on this ship. We’re pirates, that’s what wedo. Your own words back at ya, captain. I’ll be damned if I give upnowthat we know for sure there’s something to this legend of yours. More gold than we know what to do withandbragging rights at the end of this? I gather that’s worth risking my life for.” He stepped back, waving them off. “You fools do what you want. I’ll go check the powder stores.”
Riley watched him walk off with wide eyes. Wasn’t he the one who’d advisedagainstchasing Virelai’s Hoard just days ago?
“He’s right about one thing,” Haddock said, watching the gunner descend through the hatch, then landing his gaze on Calla. “I’m an old man, with no use for gold anymore. But being by the side of the captain who found Virelai’s Hoard? People will never tire of the stories. And if I die? I couldn’t ask for a grander adventure than this.”
With every pirate’s declaration of loyalty, Calla seemed to minutely shrink in on herself. Eventually, she turned to Sable. “You never signed up for this,” Calla said, a surprising softness falling over her features, her guard down for the first time Riley had witnessed since setting foot on this ship. “You could leave now.” The words were almost a plea.
For all of her challenging the captain at every turn, the first mate was now uncharacteristically silent. Her jaw set in a hard line as every eye fell on her. “If you go, I go.”
And that was that.
Calla met Riley’s gaze with a questioning tilt of her head. Riley just shook her head. She’d made her decision when she first stepped foot on board. Because Ignatius was right. More gold than she knew what to do with was worth whatever risk it took to get there. And if the stories were right, and the Moonshadowwasprotected by the sea? Trying to return to Vareth on a different ship might see her dead on the trip back. Wouldn’t that be just hilarious? No. She was staying.
Resigned, the captain nodded. “Then we set sail now.”
***
Riley stared down at the blank scrap of paper with furrowed eyebrows, a quill held awkwardly between her fingers as it hovered over the page. A fat drop of ink slid slowly toward its tip and fell with a splatter as she thought. Riley’s frown deepened.
The task was supposed to be easy enough.
Just remember the letters Sable had taught her over the past couple of days and string them together in the sequence that spelled the wordship.
Sable herself stood behind her, staring over her shoulder with fraying patience.
At least Riley imagined it was fraying. She wouldn’t look back and check. Already the feeling that she was just wasting both of their time made her every muscle tense as she pondered endlessly about the damn letters. Even hauling buckets of sea water was better than this. Eventually, the pressure became too much, and she just went for it. Her quill met paper and the sound of uncertain scratching resounded through the silence in the hold.
At the last letter, the tip of her quill broke through the thin scrap of parchment and left another ugly dark smudge of ink, covering the end of her even uglier attempt at writing.
Riley tossed the quill on the overturned barrel and scoffed. “What doeswritinghave to do withreading?” she asked, frustrated. “This is just making me feel dumb.”
Sable leaned above her shoulder to peer at the paper. Riley’s skin prickled at the proximity. “You won’t be able to understand what you’re reading if you can’t spell the words,” she said, and her tone held none of the impatience Riley had been picturing in her head. “And practice is the quickest way you’ll get there.”
The first mate’s hand rested on the back of her chair, lightly brushing Riley’s back as she leaned over to retrieve the tossed quill. A faint scent of sun-warmed leather and smoke enveloped her, reminiscent of campfires on rocky shores. Strong, all-encompassing, warm, surprisingly comforting.
“Take it.”
The words made heat spread across Riley’s stomach and thighs like a rash. She blinked at the quill held in front of her nose.
Ever since that card game, an undercurrent of something electric had settled between them, and today it doubled down with a vengeance. She must be starved. They’d been at sea for, what, a fortnight now? On land, she would’ve already sought the soft caress of a stranger by this point. But Sable wasn’t astranger, and they weren’t on land. They would be seeing each other again the morning after.
Pushing the lingering thoughts away, she picked up the quill.
“Like this,” Sable instructed, sliding her hand over Riley’s.
Sable’s calloused fingers slipped between hers and changed the angle at which she was holding the quill until the object didn’t feel so awkward in her hand anymore. Her skin was so warm it held the chill of the night at bay. When Sable was satisfied with the position, she turned the parchment to a clean area with the other hand–her arms encircled her for this brief moment, and thishadto be on purpose now–and moved Riley’s quill hand to it. Applying firm, but gentle pressure, Sable guided her to rewrite the word the same way she’d written it, but cleaner. Smoother. All Riley wondered about was what else those fingers were skilled at.
“Everyone feels dumb when learning something new,” Sable said, close enough now that the words hit Riley’s ear in warm puffs of breath, her hand still a steady pressure against hers. “But you’ve been paying attention.” Not to the writing, but yes, she was certainly paying attentionnow. “Try it with a little less smudging next time.”
With that, she retreated, Sable’s hand slipping from hers. Stealing the warmth away.
