Page 102 of A Curse of Salt

‘I won’t leave him,’ I repeated, my words firm as the planks beneath my feet. ‘I won’t let you take his army, either.’

Bane wiped the blood from his cutlass on his trouser leg, looking unimpressed. ‘And what’re you gonna do to stop me, exactly?’

My hand inched towards my dagger. I’ll kill you, I thought, picturing all the ways I could squeeze the life from that traitor’s neck.

Bane eyed my fingers as they reached for that iron rose hilt. He chuckled, shooting me a lazy grin. ‘Gonna kill me, love?’

The whispers of battle around us should’ve made it hard to hear, but his mocking lanced right through me. I didn’t want to be a killer. But how else could this end?

Bane’s cutlass dangled lazily from his kohl-painted fingers, his gold rings glinting in the late afternoon light. I glanced down at Sebastien, hunched over in pain.

‘Had me worried for a second.’ Bane’s gaze was still fixed on me. ‘Thought you might’ve saved the day, turning up like this. Alas . . .’ His eyes drifted to Sebastien, emeralds sharper than diamond. ‘Too late.’

Sebastien’s fingers twitched around my calf, but I couldn’t look at him. The curse, a voice reminded me. I’d come back to break the curse. But how? Not like this – I needed more time.

Bane took a step forward, ignoring the hiss that fell from Sebastien’s ashen lips. ‘Come away,’ he said. His voice was silken, almost a purr. ‘I’ll take you home, love. I told you, I don’t want to be your enemy. We could build something together.’

‘I’m not going anywhere with you.’

Bane’s smile dropped. ‘Not the monster you think I am, princess.’

‘Good men don’t need to say that.’

He laughed at that. ‘Aye, well. Very human of me to admit, but I am sorry it’s come to this.’

‘No, you aren’t,’ I hissed. ‘You only had to wait for the curse to end to claim the fleet for yourself. Instead, you started a fight you knew they wouldn’t be able to finish. You came to watch them bleed because that’s all you know – destruction.’

Finally, I saw the truth. It was always going to end like this: war. Sebastien had sensed it the moment we’d met.

Bane’s voice was bitter, his lips curling as he spoke. ‘Say what you want. He’s dying and there’s nothing you can do about it.’

‘He isn’t,’ I insisted. ‘He’ll heal.’

Bane arched a brow. The blood pooling at Sebastien’s feet was spreading. A thick, dark sea that dripped through the cracks in the planks.

‘Join me now and I’ll let the rest of them live,’ the traitor said.

Just then, Aron shoved his way through Bane’s crew to join me at Sebastien’s side. His face was streaked with blood, his shirt torn and hanging in pieces around his tanned skin. His gaze fell on Sebastien and I watched the colour leave him, all at once.

‘Why are ye doin’ this?’ he snarled, a storm blazing in his eyes. His knuckles turned white around the hilt of his bloodied blade. ‘The fleet’ll never follow a traitor like ye.’

I was hardly listening. I had to do something, quickly, but it was becoming increasingly harder to think straight with Sebastien bleeding out at my feet.

‘He started it,’ Bane retorted, gaze locked on Aron’s. ‘It wouldn’t have to be like this if you just let them fight for me.’

He looked at me, then. Eyes bright and wild. Full of pain and so much more – so much anger, so much desperation. ‘Bet you could convince him, though,’ he said slowly.

I ran my fingers through the ends of Sebastien’s hair. I could hear his laboured breathing, feel his weight as he sagged against me. He was fading, and my heart was racing.

I don’t have time for this.

Bane drummed his painted nails against the steel of his curved blade. ‘I have an army of my own ready to pull this ship apart,’ he said. ‘But perhaps you could persuade your darling king to lend me his forces. Spare us all such a messy end. You have an uncle here, no? Wouldn’t you like to save him? Side with me and I’ll call it off.’

I glanced at Aron, knowing the fear in my wild eyes would tell him everything I was thinking. Even if I couldn’t break the curse, if I was too late . . . I could still save some of them. Mors, Una . . .

Aron looked at Sebastien, then back at me. ‘He’s not dead yet,’ he murmured.

My breaths turned shallow. Think. Not dead yet – but the end, one way or another, was coming. What would Sebastien do?

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