Page 50 of Ship of Shadows
He’d ignored me, paying the shop owner and walking away without saying a word. I hadn’t felt good about myself after lashing out like that, but I couldn’t take the words back, couldn’t even apologize, because Bastian had disappeared.
The rest of the afternoon had distracted me from the horrors of the morning as we wandered the town, bathed, changed, ate.
Now, as I entered the tavern with freshly braided hair and clean clothes, all the events from earlier came crashing back down with a vengeance: the bones, my father’s death—the trident. I’d taken the object aboard the ship, which seemed like the safest place for it right now, but hadn’t had a chance to ask Bastian about it yet. If it was what I thought it was, and it did belong to Spirit Water, then this was a huge discovery.
It was rumored that each of the Seven Spirits had their own powerful weapons scattered around the continent. These weapons were specially made for each spirit, forged with their powers. But none had ever been seen. We’d only read about them, seen sketches of them in various texts and historical records. Many of us had doubted if the objects really existed.
Of course it would be my father who found it. He’d never doubted the trident’s existence, and he believed that finding it would bring us good luck. Oh, Father. I couldn’t even imagine how elated he must’ve been to hold that weapon in his hands, only to then die. I needed to know why he wanted the trident, how it connected to my brothers.
It couldn’t have been a coincidence that it was buried with the bones of my father and his men.
Tears welled in my eyes, but I held them back. I would not cry anymore today; I just wanted to enjoy a meal with my friends—and maybe a tankard of ale. I’d get my answers, but not in this moment.
Driscoll and Leoni already sat at a long table with some members of the crew. Others hadn’t arrived yet, including Bastian. Much like me, everyone had a chance to bathe, and it had much improved their spirits, the table full of chatter, ale, and fresh bread and fish stew. Patrons in the tavern eyed the pirates warily, a tension thickening the already humid air.
Bartholomew stood on a small, raised stage, singing about the Lost Boys and a sea serpent they’d fought.
“Its eyes were dark and stormy
That gloomy night at sea
It rose tall as a mountain
Its breath shaking our ship like a leaf.”
His voice faded in the background as I approached the table, overhearing Driscoll complaining that his clothes made him look like a peasant. I rolled my eyes as I sat down next to Mia.
“Here,” she said and slid a tankard in front of me. “You look like you need it.”
Kara glared at me from the end of the table before tearing her eyes away, each earring that lined her ear catching bits of light. I wondered how many years it had taken to acquire all those tattoos and piercings.
“Thank you,” I replied to Mia, taking a deep drink of the amber liquid.
An ocean breeze whisked through the open windows, sand dusting the floor. The little tavern sat on the edge of the town, giving a full view of the shoreline, docks spread out along a long cobblestone boardwalk, ships bobbing in the calm waters. Thesun sank over the ocean, the sky a creamy mixture of pink and orange. I took another sip, enjoying the view. I could rarely go out like this in Apolis. As my mother liked to remind me, queens didn’t frequent taverns. If I wanted to drink, it would be wine at a feast, and only a few sips, at that. My brothers, however, got to go wherever they wanted, my mother and father letting them run wild while keeping a close eye on me at all times. I marveled at the feel of this: sitting, drinking, being out among people without judgment. These humans likely didn’t even know who I was.
I’d love it if Mal and Lochlan were here right now, drinking, regaling the table with stories of their adventures. Mal was always the practical one, the one who got them out of trouble, while Lochlan was the one who usually got them into trouble. It made their stories that much more entertaining.
“I’m sorry about your father,” Mia said.
“Thank you.” I trailed my finger through a ring of condensation on the table. “But I don’t want to think about that tonight.”
Across from us, Leoni and Driscoll pointed discreetly at a couple sitting at a nearby table. The couple seemed to be in a heated argument, and my friends were speculating on what they could be bickering about.
“I think she’s mad that he has a small penis and lied to her about it,” Driscoll said, pinching his fingers to show his point.
Leoni laughed. “And he’s angry because she told him size doesn’t matter.” Leoni burped, then banged her chest. “But of course it does.”
I choked into my ale and waved my hand. “Sorry about them,” I said to Mia.
“I’m a pirate.” She huffed. “Trust me, I’ve heard worse.”
Patrons gave wide berth to the table of pirates, and a few newcomers stopped in the door, seeing the pirates andimmediately turning around and leaving. Bastian and his Lost Boys certainly had a reputation.
I took another sip of my drink. “So what’s your story?” I asked Mia.
She wrinkled her nose. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I know how Bastian became a pirate, how he washed up on the shore of that island and met the Lost Boys. How they all banded together, but how did you get in with them? Bastian hasn’t told me much about you or Kara.”
