Page 101 of A Curse of Salt

Sebastien and Bane fought like steel and water. Bane was nimble, dodging each assault with lithe steps, a blur of black leather. But there was nothing so impervious, so invincible, as the force that opposed him. Bane’s every blow was buffeted by the storm of Sebastien’s fury. It was clear as the oncoming sunset which of the two would win; the surging tides against the sinking sun.

But in an instant, something changed. The second my feet touched the planks, Sebastien’s demeanour shifted.

He turned. The battle around us seemed to slow, the entire world a mere echo of the moment his gaze met mine. Black and gold, like the stars returning to the sky after an age of darkness.

For a split second, my heart swelled in my chest, full again at last. The world was frozen, ours . . . until it wasn’t—

Until Bane’s sword hurtled through the air, and plunged into Sebastien’s chest.

30

Aroar like the death of a sun tore through the sky.

I screamed, hurtling through the fray, the bloodshed, the din of battle. That cry of agony ripped through me like the wind, fracturing the world in two. The chaos blurred around me as I dodged blades and blood-spatter, racing for Sebastien as he fell to his knees, broadsword clattering to the ground.

Crimson arced through the air as Bane withdrew his blade. He grunted as blood – Sebastien’s blood – scattered, painting the deck, the sails, me.

Bane’s emerald eyes widened when he caught sight of me. ‘Guess I overestimated that sister of yours,’ he panted. ‘Didn’t think you’d be coming back.’

I shoved past him without a word, racing towards Sebastien. Despite the rivers of red trickling down his front, he held himself up just long enough for me to fly into his arms, pulling me tight against his blood-soaked chest.

‘I told you not to come back,’ he breathed, lips pressed into my hair as he cradled me against him.

I clasped my hands on either side of his face, an unfathomable relief filling me at the feeling of his body against mine. ‘Should’ve known I wouldn’t listen,’ I told him, smiling through the terror that gripped me.

Dark curls hung across his face as he hunched over, gasping in pain. My skirts were already soaked scarlet, his blood spilling across the planks of the Blood Rose just as it had three centuries ago.

‘Go home, blackbird,’ he rasped, nothing but despair left in his voice.

‘I am home,’ I said softly, pushing the hair back from his face. My fingers smeared blood across his temple, but I didn’t care. All the world could be blood and I would still be there, with him.

I grasped his chin in my hand, desperate to see his face, his eyes, to feel the breath on his lips . . . any sign that his powers would pull him through Bane’s fatal blow.

He drew his eyes up to mine, slowly, as if even that caused him pain. ‘Blackbird,’ he whispered, the word escaping him like air, like life. But there was such death in his voice, such a tired, weary pain, that it ripped right through me, turning my hope to shreds. His eyes were darker than I’d ever seen them.

I shook my head furiously, fingers curling around his wrists. His thumb stroked my cheek, my jaw, my lips, leaving smears of blood everywhere he touched.

‘You’re too stubborn to die,’ I told him fiercely, but the words snagged on the thorns in my throat, coming out so ragged even I didn’t believe them. I pressed my forehead against his, willing life back into his paling flesh and I closed my eyes, knowing it would take something more than hope to save him. To save us all.

‘Come away, love,’ Bane said, his sword raised once more. ‘You’re too late.’

My hand sought comfort in the warmth behind Sebastien’s neck. His long fingers curled into the material of my skirts, as if he could draw strength from me as his own faded.

‘I’m not leaving his side,’ I said.

‘You’re wasted on him,’ Bane replied, grass-dappled eyes darting between us. ‘I know about the curse. You won’t win. Let me take you home.’

He grasped my forearm in an attempt to pry me away.

Sebastien’s head snapped up, his eyes glittering with rage. There was life in him yet.

‘Let go of her,’ he snarled, each word bared like fangs, ‘before I tear that hand from your body.’

His dying voice thundered across the deck with such force that the battle around us halted. Pirates from both crews turned to watch the wavering immortality of the Heartless King. Still, Bane didn’t back down.

Fool, I thought.

I wrenched myself free from Bane’s grip, meeting his gleaming green gaze.

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