Page 44 of Ship of Shadows
Finally, he exhaled a long, deep breath, some of the color returning to his face. “So that’s what it takes, huh?” he said weakly.
My shoulders slumped. “What what takes?” I asked.
“To get you to touch me.” His eyes danced. “I just need to have a panic attack.”
I shoved at him and sank back against the tree. “Shut up.” I hesitated. “I’ve never seen you like that before. So...”
“Weak?” he asked, shooting me a sidelong glance. He took another shuddering breath, then leaned on the tree, shoulder touching mine.
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, braid now completely undone, blue ribbon somewhere at the bottom of the sea. “Weak is not a word I’d use to describe you.”
He was silent for a moment, then he scrubbed a hand over his face. “Remember how I told you I got kidnapped by pirates at a young age? They’re the reason I’m afraid of the sea.”
I looked over at him, shocked by the admission. He’d never shared this in our time together, and I’d always figured it was too painful, whatever had happened to cause this fear. More painful than him getting kidnapped by pirates, torn from his parents when he was just fifteen years old, forced to watch them die and then forced into labor on one of those very ships. I remembered crying when he’d told me about it while we sat in one of our favorite spots, a little cave that was dark and secluded, where the water was still and calm, protected by big rocks that provided a barrier from the wild waves—and prying eyes.
“So that was all true?” I asked him. “What you told me about getting taken when pirates raided your home?”
He turned his head. “Aye. I told you I never lied to you, love.”
“Don’t call—” I started.
He waved away my words, already knowing what I was about to say. “Yes, yes. Do you want to hear the story or not?”
“Well, someone is feeling better,” I pointed out, which earned me a look. “Okay.” I mimicked locking my mouth closed and throwing away the key.
His lips twitched. “I spent years on that damned pirate ship until one day, I’d had enough. I’d grown six inches, put on muscle, and I wasn’t scared of the pirates anymore. I was just fed up with being their slave.”
The palm tree swayed above us, fronds rustling, coconuts jangling, and I hoped one wasn’t about to fall right on top of our heads, though my mouth watered at the sight. Fresh coconut juice sounded divine right about now.
“So when we docked at our next port, I attempted to run away. I was caught, ended up punching one of the pirates in the face, and before I knew it, I was walking the plank. Years of being their slave had gotten me no lenience. One mistake and I was done for.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. I had water magic, and even with that power, I’d almost died jumping off that plank. I couldn’t imagine how a human with no magic could survive such a thing. I guessed that was the whole point.
“It was a stormy day at sea to make things worse. I could barely balance on the plank and ended up having to get onto my hands and knees to crawl. The wind howled. It was all I could hear: the wind and the ocean, both raging at me.”
His voice was so calm and steady, but his hands clenched tight at his sides like it was taking all his self-control to not tremble at the memory.
“I didn’t even get a chance to walk the plank. I clutched to it until a wave washed over me and pushed me off the damn thing. The sea sucked me down, spinning me this way and that, battering me until my body felt so weak and bruised, I wanted to die. Darkness cloaked everything in sight, and every time I tried to open my eyes, they stung so badly I had to close them right away.” He shook his head, little droplets of water shaking off with the movement. “I passed out, sure death was about totake me, but by some miracle, I awoke, washed up on an island I didn’t recognize.”
His eyes were distant, as if he was in another place, another time. “I scrambled onto the shore, which was lined by a jungle.” He gestured. “Much like this one. I ran deep into the trees, but no matter how far I got from the sea, I couldn’t shake away the images, the feeling, of the ocean and the power it held over me. I’d been ripped from my family, enslaved, but I’d never felt so powerless as I had in the ocean’s deadly grip. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. It was like I was underwater, experiencing those terrifying events all over again.”
This wasn’t a lie. It couldn’t be. Not with the way his eyes shone with so much emotion, the way his body was so tense just telling this story.
Bastian swallowed. “Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Barty.”
My eyebrows raised. “Bartholomew? The bard?”
“Aye. A bit younger. But he was telling me to breathe, to just breathe. Then he started singing. His calm voice snapped me out of whatever hold the memories had on me.”
“So that’s how you met him?” I’d never heard this story either.
Bastian had only told me that he’d found his crew after he escaped the pirates and that they’d banded together and become like a family over the years.
“Aye. He waited until I’d calmed down and then took me deeper into the jungle, where he and others lived, bedrolls spread out across the ground, fires roaring with food roasting. He introduced me to everyone. They called themselves the Lost Boys, all around my age, no one older than sixteen.”
“So there were no girls?” I asked, thinking of Mia and Kara.
He shook his head. “No. Not then. They came later. The Lost Boys took me in, and we decided to start our own pirate crew, and you know the rest.”
