Page 25 of A Curse of Salt

I followed his gaze across the deck to where the black-haired woman stood, head bent in conversation with the King.

Makes sense, I thought sullenly, watching them converse. Golde’s gleaming eyes scanned the deck, always watching for signs of danger. I couldn’t fathom how anyone could be so faithful to such a monster. It was no wonder they’d paved the seas with so much blood; between the two of them, I’d never seen such a penchant for chaos.

‘I can’t comprehend what a man like you is doing here,’ I said, gesturing around us.

Mors paused, as if measuring his next words carefully. ‘We’re all part of something greater than you could imagine, lass.’ He spoke quietly, his eyes never straying from his king. ‘I could never leave his side, no matter what he did.’

‘You aren’t going to tell me he’s a good man at heart, are you?’

‘At heart? No.’ Mors turned to face me, his wizened eyes grave. ‘I doubt even he understands the depths of what he’s capable of. Good or bad.’

‘I daresay one outweighs the other,’ I muttered.

Mors sighed. ‘Aye. Well, keep your wits about you. You’ll be just fine.’

I fought the urge to look up again, to let my eyes find the shadow of the King across the deck. Mors could defend him all he liked; I knew what he was.

‘Ah, the guest o’ honour!’

I looked up to see Aron swaggering over with a tankard of ale in his hand, smiling sloppily down at us. I laughed as he slumped on to the crate beside me. Cuts and grazes laced his face and arms, and his shirt was filthier than usual, his musky scent alloyed with sweat, liquor and blood.

‘I trust you’re enjoying yourself,’ I remarked, watching in amusement as he gulped down the rest of his drink, unfazed by his injuries.

The pirate grinned roguishly at me over the rim of his mug. ‘Only three thin’s a pirate needs, lass,’ he said. ‘Rum, war and a warm bed.’

I felt my cheeks redden, which made Aron laugh. He leaned back, wiping a drop of liquid from his moustache. ‘Ah, ye’ll understand one day.’

I shook my head awkwardly. One day implied I even had a future to look forward to, let alone one worth living. One full of laughter and warmth and . . . something hot and unfamiliar curled around my stomach and squeezed. I shook it off. I’d never understand.

‘I wanted to thank you, actually,’ I said, after a moment. ‘You saved my life, the day we met.’

‘Hmm?’ Aron’s gaze was trained on something in the distance, a figure moving among the crowd. I couldn’t pinpoint the object of his distraction amid the rabble, but it wasn’t hard to decipher longing on the face of a drunk man.

Who are they? I wanted to nudge him and ask, but I bit my tongue. I didn’t need to be any more invested.

Drink flowed freely as the clouds slipped across the night sky, fading into a cool morning fog. Curiosity kept me on deck for several hours, observing the pirates’ lively celebrations from afar. It shouldn’t have surprised me how human they seemed; how they smiled at me like old friends and laughed like they had no reason not to.

Every so often, the King would turn his dark hood in my direction, though he never approached. I was glad of the distance, though it didn’t stop the unnerving sensation of his shadows calling out to me from across the deck.

I headed for the forecastle steps, suddenly desperate to escape the noise. My head pounded, still spinning from my brush with death and the chaos around it.

Damned pirates, I thought. They’d cost me a step towards freedom today. Their pride would mean more time before Bane came – more time trapped on this gods-forsaken ship.

Exhaustion crawled through my bones, but the horrors of battle still raced through my mind, a carousel of death that spun on and on, the scent of it hanging like smoke in the air. I’d seen dead bodies before, but never like that. I’d never watched life bleed from someone’s eyes, never seen a monster snake through the waves to feast on still-warm flesh. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep if I’d tried.

My skin prickled and I glanced back at the main deck, seeing the King standing at the bottom of the stairs. I could almost feel his gaze following me as I slipped past the crowd and through the forecastle doors. I didn’t look back, but I could hear his footsteps like echoes of my own as he followed. I didn’t have it in me to protest so I said nothing as his dark presence swallowed up the hall behind me.

The chaos melted away the moment I stepped into the grand library. The King’s reaching shadow mingled with mine as he trailed after me and I had to fight the urge to turn around and slam the doors in his face.

What does he want?

A halo of dust descended as we entered, spiralling in the dawn light that leaked through the high windows and spilled across the book-laden table. I sought refuge in a row of bookshelves as the King strode the length of the room, taking in the gleaming wood and sparkling chandelier.

‘You found my library,’ he observed.

A penetrating insight, I thought churlishly. I watched him through the gap in the shelves, studying the outline of his powerful shoulders as he walked.

‘I haven’t been in here for years,’ he mused, pacing around the table.

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