Page 63 of The Sea of Zemira (The Zemiran Chronicles 1)

“Everyone okay?” Lincoln asked.

“Aye, Captain,” Hill said.

The brave men and women nodded.

Gotta love ’em,Lincoln thought, relieved that they were all fine. He even giggled at Kitten dusting her dress and doing a few buttons on Boots’s shirt.

However, the captain was unsure if those creatures would be coming for them again.

“We better get goin’!” he rushed.

They agreed and picked up their pace on the beach until they reached the rowboat, climbing aboard and rowing to their beloved Sybil Curse.

Mazie plopped on the deck, pulling her legs up against her chest. She did not speak; she just sat there.

The rest settled on the ship, scattered and exhausted. Nola looked up to Lincoln as he uncorked a bottle of rum with his teeth.

“It was all a lie,” Nola finally said, “not just the people but the land, the party, the colors—it was all an illusion.”

“Aye,” he affirmed. “For all we know, they died years ago.”

She ran her hands restlessly down and up her arms. The goosebumps refused to leave her skin.

“Will that happen to us when we die? Being trapped like that?” Nola asked. “Repeating the same day over and over again, as if nothing has changed?”

“Nay,” he replied. “They’re witches of nature, Nola. Even Mazie gave up that kind of power when she became a pirate. I believe when we die, we become fish food.” He smiled, despite their grave situation. “And I’m okay with that.”

Kitten padded across the deck, kneeling next to her friend. The life within Mazie’s eyes looked bleak. She felt empty. It was as if her own soul had been ripped from her body.

“Not everyone ye love is dead, Mazie; we be here wit’ ye,” she told her, trying to soothe her in some way. “I’m so sorry ’bout what ’appened to yer mother. I’m so sorry.”

Mazie wiped her eyes. “Don’t bother, Kitten,” Raven swallowed a gulp of bitter saliva. “We need to continue our journey. We need to get to Eastland Forest and Nola to the Fae Queen.”

Her firm tone drew the eyes of every buccaneer to stare at her intently. She stood up and began to pace around the mast.

“But our journey will not stop there,” she continued. Her expression was fierce, determined. “I say we join Nola on takin’ down the king.” She looked up to meet the siren’s eyes. “The war started with Matthias, but it ends with us.”

Lincoln nodded and glanced at his mates.

“Aye,” they all agreed in unison. It was no longer Nola’s fight alone—it was all theirs.

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