Page 15 of A Curse of Salt

‘Enough!’

The windows shattered, sending a storm of glass into the air. Wind and rain whipped inside, scattering diamond-like shards across the floor. I dove beneath the table with a shriek, feeling a tidal wave of power sweep overhead. Bodies thudded against wood, followed by a door slamming, then nothing.

When the room stilled, I raised my head and peered tentatively out from my hiding place. The crew were gone, the door at the end fixed shut. I was alone, surrounded by ringing silence and broken glass. I scrambled to my feet and gazed around, the rain spraying my face and arms through the broken windows.

The urge to run kicked at my heels, spurring me to escape. But the tug of the Heartless King’s shadows from the next room kept me where I was. I stood alone on a ship brimming with blood-starved pirates and whoever – whatever – their king was. I wasn’t going to make it far.

I forced out a long breath and turned instead to the grand table beside me, its surface littered with parchment. I brushed aside the clutter and broken glass to reveal a large map laid flat across it. A map of the realm: a whole world I’d never get to see. It was a landscape I knew well, illustrated on parchment so old I was afraid it might crumble beneath my touch.

I trailed a finger over the contours of the continent, from the tip where Northbay’s cliffs stretched into the sky, right down to the cityscapes of the south.

Only at the very crest of the continent did I notice something I’d never seen before. It was a cluster of islands, small ridges of land caught between the tides of the Channel. The writing beneath them was too faded to read, but I was sure I could see the marking of a settlement there, some forgotten citadel erased by time and the sea. The maps in Father’s study had never shown such a place.

My hand lingered on the old chart until I heard the faint rumbling of voices from the dark chamber beyond. I crept towards the closed door, straining to make out muffled words.

‘. . . doomed . . . no point in tryin’ . . .’ It was Golde, my would-be murderer.

Aron spoke next, a gentle murmur. ‘Revenge . . . do it fer them.’

‘You think I’m stupid?’ The Heartless King’s growl was unmistakable.

‘She doesn’t need to know why . . . think about . . .’

‘You said this was just about Bane.’

‘The sea is growing impatient,’ came Mors’ voice. ‘Even if you can’t . . . this is our last chance.’

‘. . . less than three months.’

‘It’s enough.’

‘I know what you’re playing at.’

Shouts rose in protest before the clamour broke in a deafening crash. The King’s voice thundered like a sky torn in two. ‘GET OUT!’

I jumped, stumbling back towards the door. My heart stuttered. Now or never.

But before I could make another foolish mistake, the doors burst open and the three pirates reappeared, strolling out with unhurried footsteps. Looking far too calm, considering the cloud of anger that rolled along after them.

Aron met my gaze as he passed, blood trickling from a cut along his cheek. He’d caught the brunt of the fight, but it didn’t seem to have dampened his spirits in the slightest. He winked, pulled the doors open and disappeared out on to the deck. Sable-haired Golde didn’t so much as glance my way as she snatched up her discarded blade and stalked outside.

Mors lingered in the doorway, a frown tugging at his whiskered lips. ‘I’m sorry for this, lass. Truly,’ he said, before turning and letting the door shut in his wake.

There was a beat of silence, a second of peace and rain, before the shadows at the end of the room shifted and the Heartless King re-emerged. His hulking figure took shape from the darkness and I fell back a step, talons of fear raking through me.

I didn’t know if Mors had been apologising for getting me into this mess or for leaving me in the hands of his monstrous king, but right then I’d have given just about anything not to be alone with him. To have someone – even Golde – beside me, her blade at my neck or not.

Wind howled through the glass teeth of the broken windows, blowing the King’s cloak out around him as he strode towards me. It was the walk of a man with the whole world at his feet, and it made me shiver.

‘So.’ He stopped a few paces away, his words bleeding from blackness. ‘You’re Oren’s heir.’

No, I wanted to whimper. I’m no one. I’m just a girl.

But more lives than my own hung in the balance, so I lowered my head, half in assent and half because I didn’t think I could look at him any longer without my knees buckling. I wasn’t even sure I could speak, or if my voice had burrowed too deep inside me, along with my last shreds of courage.

The Heartless King stepped closer. ‘I’ve always wondered how it would feel to watch that fool’s blood run between my fingers.’

I looked at him then. Looked, because it was instinctive to want to see the face of one’s killer, but the shadows gave nothing away. My heart pounded against the brackets of my ribs, begging for release.

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