Page 27 of The Withering Dawn
“Come,” he said. “You need food and so do I.”
As he walked toward the door, he extended his hand behind him as if to invite mine into it. I was taken aback by the gesture. He made it seem so nonchalant. So natural. He led me out of the room and into the warm sun again and then we headed below toward the smell of food.
I moved in close, preparing for scrutiny and judgement from the other men in his crew. After what Henry had done, I felt as if any of his men could be thinking similarly so I kept my head down, trying to appear as nonthreatening as I could.
When we came to the galley, there were only two others in the cramped space grabbing stale buns from a table piled full of items. They both looked our way when we entered, at first missing me entirely, and greeted Nazario with respectful nods.
“Capitán,” one said in an accent similar to Nazario’s.
But then their eyes found me tucked behind him and they both paused.
“No questions,” Nazario sighed as if the idea exhausted him. “If you disagree, bring it up to me later. We are all tired, are we not?”
Hesitantly, the two men nodded and stepped aside, allowing Nazario and me to move into the tight space.
He released my hand to take a stack of dried meat and salted bread, handing me one of the meat strips as he bit off a large chunk of one of the rolls.
“Eat it this time, yes?” he said.
I took it from him and brought it to my nose. It did smell wonderful. I hadn’t had meat in ages. The mere scent of it made my stomach growl eagerly. I brought it to my mouth and gnawed off a bite, chewing the salted beef thoroughly.
It was bland, but I wasn’t sure I could eat anything that wasn’t. Not yet. To me, it was divine. I chewed the leathery strip and swallowed, taking another bite. Across from me, Nazario was watching as if to make sure I consumed it all.
“We have different food,” he said, leaning on the table. “Beans. Fish, if my men can catch any. What do you eat?”
I shrugged. “Whatever I am given.”
“No men then.”
I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but I shook my head anyways.
“Humans have a lot to learn about us,” I said under my breath.
“What was that?”
“Not all sirens are the same.” I absently traced the grains of wood on the old table with my nails. “My people stayed far out at sea. When we existed, that is. We did not try to cross paths with man.”
“You said the Kroans destroyed your people.”
“And they are trying to destroy yours. Their boldness has tainted all of us. And their voice can make you do anything. Their stories haunt us all. Many sirens fear them as much as humans do.”
“So, do you have a song? Like these Kroans do?”
“Not like them. We are…” I hesitated for a moment, trying to find the best way to explain and avoid suspicion. “We feel emotions. Strife. Joy. Hatred and anger. And we can inspire emotions, but never something that isn’t there in the first place.”
“Inspire emotions?” He narrowed his eyes at me with a half-smile. “You would not be inspiring me to feel a certain way about you, would you?”
I defensively shook my head. “No. I don’t… I don’t have that kind of pull. If I had, perhaps I would not have grown up the way I did.”
He stared at me, his smile relaxing. I felt like I was being stripped down with his eyes. Like my secrets were out in the open and it felt both terrifying and comforting to be so naked.
“I wouldn’t say that,” he exhaled. I cocked my head at the comment, but before I could think about it, he handed me a stale bread roll. “Eat more.”
He took a big bite of food and stepped back, leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. His eyes wandered as if he was deep in thought and I watched him, captivated by his features. His bronze skin and earthy eyes. His sturdy build. Mostly because he hadn’t used it to hurt me.
“Your men do not like that I am out of the hold,” I said. “Will it cause more trouble with your crew?”
He chuckled. “Absolutely. Which is why I have given them the option to leave when we reach a port.”
