Page 24 of A Curse of Salt

He rested an elbow on the rail overlooking the water, holding out his other hand. ‘I don’t believe I’ve properly introduced myself,’ he said, amber eyes twinkling in the starlight. ‘They call me Mors.’

‘Ria Lucroy,’ I replied, shaking his proffered hand.

His pale fingers were adorned with rings, their metal cold against my skin. When I pulled away, I saw that his palm was streaked with blood. I touched a hand to my neck, feeling the small wound left by Cullen’s man.

‘Are you all right?’ Mors asked, his brows drawn low in concern.

I glanced down at the bead of crimson on my fingers and wiped it off on my skirts. ‘Fine,’ I said, shaking my head.’ I’d seen worse today. Felt worse, as pirates thudded to their knees, their blood spattering hot across my arms, my face, my skirts.

I looked around us, watching in fascination as the crew began a dissonant sea shanty, their feet thumping against the planks as the crowd began to drink and dance, still mottled with the ichor of their enemies. Several women moved among the crew, some in pirate garb, others wearing loudly coloured clothes and gaudy jewellery, singing and dancing with smiles that outshone the moon. A tug of desire made me itch to join them, to know that kind of untamed joy. But I knew what a mask it was. No matter how human their laughter sounded, I’d just watched them rob lives from the world a hundredfold. How could they move so lightly with such a weight on their shoulders?

I looked back at Mors to ask him something, but he was staring intently down at the sea. I followed his gaze and gasped.

Something writhed in the black water. It looked like a giant serpent or eel, silk-smooth and silver-green in the moonlight. It wound in on itself, contorting like a sailor’s knot around a body that floated near the surface.

‘What the hell is that?’ I breathed, my insides squirming.

Mors shook his head with a half-smile. ‘There are too many creatures in these parts to give them all names. But don’t be afraid, lass – the dwellers of the deep are our friends. So long as we watch over her waters, the sea would never harm us. Not physically.’

Dwellers of the deep. Aberdeen had warned me of such beasts, but I’d never seen anything larger than a seal in the flesh. Magic hid in Bray, hardly touched us in Northbay. Here, it reigned.

Mors’ smile fell as he added, ‘It is unusual for them to breach like this.’

‘Must’ve been attracted by all the blood,’ I mused, unable to look away as the bobbing corpse sank slowly into the monster’s serpentine embrace.

‘Maybe,’ Mors agreed darkly, though something in his expression told me he wasn’t quite convinced.

I watched the creature for a moment longer, the rippling current washing over its slick green scales. Plumes of blood leached like ink into the water, a story written into the sea. I wondered where I would end up; if the salt would ever remember me.

‘Come,’ Mors said, guiding me away to an alcove beneath the forecastle steps where we perched atop casks of rum. I watched him for a moment, still trying to shake the image of that sea monster from my mind. The old man lounged contentedly against a crate, fingers drumming along to the tune of the crew’s caterwauling. It was loud, and the day had been long, but I hadn’t forgotten what I needed to know.

Now was my chance.

‘Bane,’ I began, waiting for Mors to look at me before I continued. ‘What does he want with me? How could I possibly be worth risking an entire crew?’

Mors sighed, an apprehensive smile creeping over his lips. ‘You must have a lot of questions.’ I nodded, saying nothing, and after a moment, he went on. ‘Oren has a bloodier past than people know. His reign is stoked by many fires and he hides them well, but there are some he’s burned who refuse to live quietly with the scars. Your parents chose to escape; Bane chose to fight. He’ll send as many crews as it takes to get his hands on you.’

‘To what end?’ I pressed. ‘To kill me, just to punish his enemy?’

Mors shook his head. ‘You don’t realise what a powerful tool you would make.’

A tool. I couldn’t help but scowl.

‘You being here, out of Oren’s reach, makes him vulnerable without even knowing. His lack of lineage is something of an embarrassment, a weak spot every noble under the sun would seek to exploit. What Bane would do with you, I can’t say for certain, but having you on his side could give his crusade for the throne an actual stake. A powerful one.’

‘Great,’ I mumbled. ‘So this is what it’s like, being a princess? A tool?’

Mors exhaled shortly, a sad little laugh. ‘Aye, lass. That’s exactly why your mother left the capital. She didn’t want this for her children.’

His words turned bitter at the end and I had to resist the urge to reach out and touch his shoulder, to comfort him. It wasn’t what she’d wanted, but Mors had drawn me into it regardless.

He should feel guilty, I told myself. He’d done all this, just for a chance to make a traitor bleed?

‘You can at least rest easy knowing we need you alive until Bane comes to collect you himself,’ Mors said.

I pursed my lips, fazed by his conviction. ‘Didn’t exactly feel that way when Golde was trying to kill me.’ Golde, who’d saved me from the same fate minutes ago.

‘Ah.’ Mors chuckled. ‘She’s always hungry for blood, but she’s a damned good first mate.’

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