Page 88 of A Curse of Salt

Golde barked a laugh. ‘Send me over there,’ she said, fingers gliding down the curve of her blade as she watched the approaching vessel. ‘I’ll bargain ’em into bloody pulps.’

‘I say let ’em come,’ Una said. ‘Little practice ’fore we meet Bane, eh?’

Sebastien nodded. ‘Aye.’

This was what I’d wanted. For them to fight for me. But how many would die in the process?

‘S’pose it’s perfect timin’,’ Golde snarled, pacing away from us. ‘We kill the crew, she gets a free ship to sail herself home on.’

I frowned at the first mate’s back. There I was, thinking we’d made some progress.

‘Sorry to inform you, but I’m not going anywhere,’ I retorted.

Golde halted in her tracks. Aron and Mors both snapped to attention, their eyes widening.

‘Ye’re stayin’?’ Una breathed.

Sebastien’s arm encircled my shoulders. I looked up at him, warmth spreading through my chest at the softness of his features.

‘So long as whoever this is goes quietly,’ I said firmly. ‘I don’t want any more blood spilled on my account.’

Sebastien leant down, pressing his lips to my temple. I looked over at the crew as a flurry of emotion crossed their faces. Aron’s smile was tight; Una’s unrestrained. Mors settled back against the mast, a twist of pride to his lips. Was this what he’d wanted? A strange fate to contrive for your own niece.

‘Doubt yer family’d take ye back anyway,’ Golde grunted. ‘Ye smell like a pirate.’

I grinned. When she looked up again, I could’ve sworn there was the ghost of an answering smile on the first mate’s lips. She’d have missed me, and she knew it.

Theo shrank back, wrapping his long arms around his skeletal body.

‘You must be freezing,’ I told him. ‘Let me take you inside.’

‘Th-thank you,’ the boy stuttered, his lips an icy shade of twilight.

‘Not happening,’ Sebastien cut in, his arm tightening around my shoulders.

I scowled. ‘We can’t let him freeze to death.’

‘I’m not letting you out of my sight until I know who these bastards are and what they’re planning.’ He jerked his chin at Theo. ‘Una, take the lad inside. Give him dry clothes and food, and bring him back when you’re done. If he tries anything . . .’

Una nodded, steering the shivering boy back the way she’d come with a reassuring smile, though I knew about the dagger she kept hidden in her boot. If he did try anything, I didn’t doubt she’d make him regret it.

Theo’s posture didn’t relax for a moment, but he went willingly, sparing me a nod of thanks over his shoulder.

I watched the others – Golde, Aron and Mors – their faces carved by shadows in the moonlight. I knew then I’d made the right choice. That standing beside them was the only way I wanted to go on. Aron lounged against the port side rail, his easy posture hardened by the prospect of battle. Golde resumed her pacing, the anticipation in her footsteps barely contained. The air grew colder and I pressed closer into Sebastien’s side, his arms chasing the shivers from my body.

I leaned my head back against his chest, content to absorb one last moment of peace before it was torn from us. Perhaps peace wasn’t the right word, but as the mysterious ship approached, the world around us felt calm, tranquil. There were still things to be said, still answers he’d promised, but they could wait.

‘They’re here,’ Aron said at last.

A single galley pulled away from the unknown vessel, drawing across the waves towards us. I could make out a dozen or so bodies crammed on board, their faces obscured by the darkness. It was brave, I thought, to bring so little backup.

More of the Blood Rose’s crew emerged from below decks, crowding behind us with their weapons drawn, silver blades slicing moonlight through the air. If it came down to it, I knew it would be a quick fight. One that a dozen sailors had little chance of winning.

‘Stay close,’ Sebastien muttered as Aron and Mors lowered the rope ladders from the starboard. A more diplomatic welcome than I’d anticipated – but given the bloodthirsty crew waiting on deck, it felt a little hollow.

Shadowy figures emerged over the side of the deck. Their tattered boots met the planks, swords clanking at their sides. My stomach fluttered despite Sebastien’s reassuring hand on the small of my back. It was too dark to make out the newcomers’ faces and there was no way to distinguish their captain from their equally shabby attire. They weren’t soldiers, but they weren’t quite pirates, either.

Golde’s shoulders rose like the hackles of a wild animal as she slunk towards them. The pirates around me stirred with anticipation, ruffled by the scent of coming battle. I focused on Sebastien’s hand, my anchor, reminding myself that nothing could tear me from this place.

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