Page 45 of Virelai's Hoard
“I heard my mom calling me from the island,” one sailor said. “My fucking mother. She’s beendeadfor nearly a decade.”
Another shivered. “That’s why it’s called that, isn’t it? It must be full of ghosts.Vengefulghosts. Your mom surely has a bone to pick with you.”
“Don’tsaythat. Why would you say that!?”
“It was just a dream,” Merrow cut in before they started bickering, but his gaze was fixed on the fog. “There are no sounds coming from the island. No sounds at all.” The last sentence was spoken quietly, as if to himself.
“Didn’t one of Haddock’s stories say the reef around this island is made of bones? Not coral. Not stone. Bones. Leviathans. Sea dragons. Men. Ancient things, still dreaming things. We must’ve stumbled upon their dreams. We’ll never rest if we die here.”
A low murmur rippled through the crew at that, and Calla set her sights on Haddock. The old man placidly nodded hishead as the pirates around asked whether that was true, and said nothing. Maybe she should start keeping a closer eye on him. When she’d taken him on board, she’d never expected the old man to start filling her crew’s ears with such nonsense. No wonder they’d ended up having nightmares.
Kittredge wrapped her arms around herself, still favoring her left foot as she stood, though she’d gotten rid of her crutches days ago. “I was locked in the bilge. Something was pounding at the hull, cracking the boards, making the whole ship shudder.” She seemed to hold in a shudder of her own as she talked. “Water trickled, and then it burst in, flowing and flowing until it drowned me. I saw the shape of something huge and dark before I passed out.”
Gadrielle scoffed. To Calla’s keen eye, she too looked uneasy, but she hid it well. “Just a dream, Kit. Just fucking dreams. I’d expect this from Riley,” she flung her hand towards the woman observing from the edge of the gathering, who widened her eyes in surprise at being called into discussion, “not from hardened pirates such as the rest of you.”
As the crew kept on arguing, Nyxen noticed Calla observing them. “You also had one, didn’t you?” he asked.
His voice was calm, but carried, and a hush came over the group. They turned to hear their captain’s reply.
Her first instinct was to lie and deny, but thankfully her wits had not yet deserted her. Claiming no dreams when every other pirate had them would’ve been suspicious. She couldn’t afford unnecessary suspicion. A sharp nod answered Nyxen’s question, and flickers of curiosity rose in her crew’s eyes. She stomped them out with a sharp, “Gadrielle is right. It’s not befitting hardened sailors to get all riled up by dreams.”
Before her crew could protest, she put a hand up in the air. It was still trembling, too faintly for anyone else to see. “Yes, we might’ve all had eerily distressing dreams, but that is no surpriseif you think about it. We’ve been anchored near the island the entire night, alight with anticipation and worry about what is going to happen today. We’ve been feasting on creepy stories, anxiety, and fear. Our brains have regurgitated all of those and fed them back to us. That’s it. No more, and no less.”
“You’re worried?” Eryx asked, looking straight at her.
Calla met their gaze evenly, pushing down the guilt twisting her stomach into knots and the surprise they were talking to her at all. “Of course I am,” she admitted freely. “If half the stories are true, Wraithspine Isle is dangerous. Only a fool wouldn’t worry. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let it control me. And neither should you.”
Draven jutted his chin at her, a challenging look in his eyes. “I never dream.”
“It’s true!” Venn interjected. “But tonight he did. If that’s not creepy, I don’t know what is. Surely this allmeanssomething.”
Eryx looked like they wanted to say something, but thought better of it when they met Calla’s cold gaze.
“Only dreams my arse,” Ignatius grumbled.
He was the most superstitious member of the crew, and of course he wouldn’t be keeping his mouth shut. Calla tensed, trying not to curl her lip in distaste. This was getting out of control.
The one-eyed gunner gestured at the fog surrounding the island. “We’re in uncharted seas, barely just survived a coven of sirens, and as soon as we reach this famously cursed island, we all have the same damn visions. It’s a warning, captain,” he spat the honorific, and punctuated his next words. “We should heed it. Let Haddock put together some charms. He’s been at sea for longer than most of us have been alive. Or hell, letEryx-”
“Enough!” Calla snapped, loudly and harshly. “Whoever’s tooscaredto come with me can stay here and guard the ship. I won’t hear any more of it.”
The surrounding pirates startled. Calla’s knot of guilt twisted tighter. But intended or not, she reached the effect she wanted. Mouths clamped shut around further dream discussions.
“Come with you?” Sable asked.
Her second-in-command finally making her voice heard made Calla’s irritation spike. Her first mate was frowning, more confused than challenging, but Calla already knew where this would lead. She couldn’t take one damned step without Sable intervening at every turn. Back when her head wasn’t pounding from too many nights of too little sleep and when her skin wasn’t itching like this for the water’s embrace, Calla used to see her first mate’s interventions as a good thing. Sable would keep her questioning herself, would keep her honest, would keep her from crossing lines she shouldn’t be crossing. But now Calla couldn’t fucking stand it. She didn’t have the time or the patience for it. Every moment they wasted, the sea’s call grew stronger. Calla needed to reach the Heart before she succumbed to it, or it would be everyone’s ruin.
“Yes, Sable,” she nearly hissed the words, her accent slipping into the vaguely unsettling lilt of her mother’s stories. “Come with me. I will lead the expedition into the island.Iam the captain. Do you have an issue with that?”
From the corner of her eyes, Calla noticed Kittredge and the two brothers taking a step away from her, as if to draw away from her impending ire. Despite herself, a flash of satisfaction flared in her chest. If only Sable were that wise.
But she hadn’t chosen her first mate because she was weak-spined.
“Is that wise?” Sable asked, Calla’s coldness washing off her as if it were merely a pleasant breeze.
Calla squared her shoulders. “It’s necessary.”
Sable settled her hand on the machete at her hip. “No. It’s not. Let me lead. We need the crew to be clear-headed. If you’re the one leading them, they’ll only think about protecting you.”
