Page 20 of A Curse of Salt

‘Fine.’

‘Fine.’

Despite the anger that guarded his tone, the King seemed to hesitate, shadows stirring. I could almost feel them, like a soft wind curling around my exposed neck. I stared into the raging darkness beneath his hood, a cold chill erupting over my skin.

He’s just testing me, I told myself, but my racing heart wouldn’t listen. It accelerated in my chest, so fast I was afraid it might burst free and abandon me here, alone with him.

I tilted my chin, angling my head to try and catch a glimpse of his eyes, but the darkness gave nothing away. ‘I’m trapped here anyway. Why not just tell me what’s going on?’

‘I will,’ he ground out, his impatience almost tangible. ‘At dinner.’

I scowled. So that was how it was going to be.

The King stepped closer, his proximity knocking the breath from my lungs. He extended his arm between us and I stared at it, perplexed. Of all the ways the day could have gone, I hadn’t seen it ending up here. With the Heartless King offering me a handshake. A bargain.

What he had to gain from it, I didn’t know, but at least I’d have a way to find out.

I stared down at his hand – seeing it for the first time. Realising, with a hungry kind of curiosity, that it was a human one. Long, light brown fingers, short nails; knuckles ridged with skin, not the spines of a lionfish. There was nothing to suggest he was anything more than a man, not much older than I was. Nowhere near old enough to have earned the destruction to his name.

I reached out tentatively, sliding my fingers into his large, rough ones. A jolt of something hot and dark pierced through me and I tried not to flinch, snatching my hand back as soon as I could.

‘Tomorrow night, then,’ he said, turning his back on me and disappearing into the quarterdeck. I expelled a breath, the tension in my body dissipating as the lingering weight of his shadows lifted.

I hurried back the way I’d come, trying and failing to shake the ghost of his bloodstained hand from mine.

7

Iwoke in the stark grey hours of morning.

The room was still but for the slow rustle of rose vines and shadows as the ship rocked gently against the waves. I rolled on to my back, sifting through the echoes of my dream. The salt, the sand, the deep eternal dark . . . the scales of something monstrous flashing silver along the seafloor.

Amidst it all, I couldn’t forget the Heartless King’s fingers, wrapped around mine. I should’ve been repulsed, touching hands like his. Killing hands. Something thick and shadowy churned in my stomach at the thought.

I pressed my face into a pillow, clutching the silk sheets to my chest. Then, for the first time since my arrival, I cried. I cried for myself, for my tired bones and aching heart. I cried for the dark waters that separated me from my old life, from the cottage and the cliffs and the arms of my father.

I cried because I might never know what became of my family: when they’d last eaten a proper meal, if Father had managed to scare up some trade, if Felicie’s latest bout of illness had passed. If they had anything at all, other than grief.

My heart clenched. What if this was all for nothing? What if I had doomed myself in vain, and wouldn’t even live long enough to know it? But I’d saved Felicie from the hands of hungry men – that had to be enough. Whatever the crew were plotting, it was at least my fate now, not hers.

When the sun crested the horizon and the needling shadows slunk back, I wiped my eyes and pulled myself out of bed, venturing towards the grand wardrobe. The wooden closet overflowed with soft petticoats, supple leather corsets to be laced over silk shirts and richly coloured overskirts that would’ve turned my sisters green with envy.

I sighed contentedly despite myself. I didn’t particularly care for jewellery or heeled shoes, but there was something about pretty dresses that made life feel somehow simpler, even when it wasn’t. As I slipped into layers of silk-soft cotton and pink skirts that matched the hazy sunrise, I almost caught myself smiling.

Among the shoes was a pair of boots not unlike my own, only sturdier, more reliable. Better for running, if it came to that. I pulled them on and fastened the laces with a newfound sense of determination. I retrieved my breakfast tray from the door, bit into a warm bread roll and left my room, resolved to find something to pass the time until dinner.

I headed straight for the doors across from the dining hall. The heavy wood wouldn’t budge at first, so I took a step back and threw my entire weight against them. The doors jolted and sprang open, sending me stumbling into the most beautiful library I’d ever seen.

I gasped, delight splitting my face into a grin. It looked like something to be found in King Oren’s palace, not a pirate ship. Breathtaking murals bathed the domed ceiling, depicting raging tides, marble spires and fallen kings. Ornate bookcases lined the walls, brimming with dusty volumes that made my fingers itch with excitement.

I paced the room slowly, trailing a finger over the aged spines that filled the shelves, my heart swelling in my chest. A mahogany table took up the centre of the room, set beneath a gleaming chandelier. Instantly, I knew I’d spend as many nights as I could cradled in its ring of light.

The day slipped away without me realising, one leather-bound journey spilling into the next. I was so absorbed in reading that I almost forgot to dread the evening ahead, until the world around me dipped into dusk and the chandelier flared to life.

I glanced up to see the rust-coloured sun seep through the clouds, suffusing the room with an ethereal glow. My heartbeat picked up, goosebumps prickling down my arms. The thought of dining with the Heartless King turned my stomach, but I couldn’t see a way out. This Bane they’d spoken of – I knew nothing about him, only that my life might well end up in his hands. And if that was the case, I couldn’t go in blind. Couldn’t waste any more of my numbered days in the dark.

Night sank over the water, streaks of moonlight snaking across the walls, and I knew my time was up. I had somewhere to be.

Apprehension filled my steps as I paced the hall outside the dining room. My heart pounded, ready to burst free at the first sign of danger. I could feel his presence within, swelling like a great shadow in my chest, caging my breath in its grip.

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