Page 58 of Found at Sea
18
Kellan
The next day, I awoke alone in my bed.Our bed, I corrected myself.
I’d been pleasantly surprised the night before when I’d pulled Fletcher into my arms and he’d allowed me to do so. There was still tension between us, as I feared there always would be, but I no longer believed he hated me. Not when remembering the way he snuggled against my chest and held onto me as if I was his safe haven.
Grinning at the thought, I got out of bed and washed before putting on clean clothes. The warmth that’d trickled through me moments ago only increased when I entered the study.
Fletcher had placed my breakfast on the table, and beside the bowl of fresh fruit, there was a smaller plate with fish covered in lemon slices. He could’ve easily tossed down my food without thought, but the careful placement of everything—and the added red flower beside my mug—told me he cared. Or at least some part of him did.
After taking my seat, I took the flower between my fingers and lifted it to my nose, still grinning.
“What are you doing to me, boy?” I asked with a shake of my head.
Not wishing to waste the day away inside my cabin, I ate my meal before going out on the deck. The ship was mostly vacant, with the exception of Horace. I nodded a greeting as I approached.
“I take it the meeting went well?” Horace asked, regarding my wrapped hand before lifting his gaze to mine.
“Aye, it did,” I answered, instinctively grabbing my bandaged hand. “Where’s the boy?”
Horace gave me a knowing smile, which I inwardly snarled at. “He and Alek went exploring. Told me to tell ya to mind yer own business.”
Unable to stop myself, I chuckled. “I should hang him from the ship's mast to teach him a lesson.”
Horace narrowed his eyes. “He’s changed you, lad. For the better.” I knew it was serious when Horace didn’t address me by my title. He was the only man in the crew I’d ever pardon for calling melad. “Before yer father passed—because he was yer father, lad, blood or not—he told me to watch over ya. I’m afraid I’ve failed ‘em and his wishes for the most part, lettin’ you make mistakes that might well damn you in the end.”
I was thankful no other men were around, because with the mention of the first Captain Flynn—the man who’d found me starving on the streets and welcomed me into his crew, gave me a home and a purpose, and eventually called me his son—my eyes stung. When he passed from this life, I’d taken his name, wishing to carry on his memory for as long as I lived.
“I know he’d be proud of ya, if he could see you this day,” Horace said, nodding.
“I appreciate you saying so, but you’re wrong,” I said, staring at my wounded hand. “He would never approve of the things I’ve done.”
I’d learned all I knew from the former captain; earning the crew’s respect, pillaging towns, and striking down anyone who stood in my way. Magic was something he’d not only feared but hated. He would’ve never spared Alek’s life and probably would’ve left him there in Black Hallows to die. Meddling with a seer was another thing he’d never done.
“Don’t think that’s true, lad,” Horace countered. “He wanted you to be better than he was. Even through yer poor decisions, I still feel like ya are. And that boy helps. Ever since that curse came upon ya, you’ve been a shell of a man. I see life back in yer eyes now.”
I thought on his words, and the warmth from earlier still lingered in my chest.
He was right. I’d noticed the change in me since Fletcher came into my life, and although I’d fought against it all these months, it was difficult to continue fighting. I not only desired his body and his mind, but I desiredhim—who he was as a person, even as tenacious and sharp-tongued as he was.
“I’m giving the men a few days to enjoy themselves before leaving,” I said, returning to a more authoritative tone. “The seer gave me an answer, and Fletcher believes he knows where we should travel next.”
“Good to know, Captain,” Horace said. His tone had changed as well. More formal.
I decided to leave the ship and journey to the island. No matter how much I loved the sea, even I needed an occasional reprieve from it. TheCrimsonNightwasn’t too far from shore, and although the men had been taking the launches to and from the ship, I chose to just dive into the water and swim to land.
Right as I broke through the surface of the water, I gave an inward sigh.
Feeling the sea on my skin was incredible and not something I often did. As I swam, ocean life flourished around me; schools of tropical fish moved in perfect formation before shooting off in the opposite direction, a coral reef below me looked so close I could touch it, but it was only an illusion from the clarity of the water.
Moving with ease through the gentle current, I thought of Fletcher’s song from the night before. He’d spoken of feeling weightless in the water, of feeling free. His way of viewing the world was charming—he was so optimistic and full of wonder. Perhaps that was one reason I was so drawn to him.
Reaching the shore, I stood from the water and the weightless sensation from seconds ago vanished as my wet clothes clung to me and weighed me down.
A few of the villagers waved, and I nodded their way. In other areas, people feared pirates and tended to avoid us, but the people of the island had always been welcoming. Maybe because we’d never raided their village. But we hadn’t needed to. We weren’t ruffiansallthe time.
There was a small marketplace that I went toward. There was a baker, a butcher, a woman who sold ale and other alcoholic spirits, and some made trinkets. As I passed through, I took a gander at the stands, more out of boredom than actual interest.
