Page 33 of A Curse of Salt

‘Only a fool’d believe we can help hungry people.’ Golde turned from the hearth to glower at me over her shoulder, firelight dancing in her dark eyes.

‘I believe it,’ I insisted.

The first mate gave me a pointed look. ‘Exactly.’

I scowled. Weak, foolish – she thought me all the same things Father had.

‘What Golde is tryin’ to say is that things’ve been this way fer a long time,’ Aron put in, his tone almost sympathetic. ‘We never killed anyone just fer fishin’. It’s their own fear that keeps ’em away.’

‘What about the dozens of ships that wash ashore each year?’ I challenged, voice rising. How could they be so callous? ‘What about my father’s crew?’

Una shook her head, tight braids hanging across her face. ‘Lass, it ain’t so simple. Raidin’s our way o’ life. But we only take when there’s somethin’ to give. It ain’t murder, just business.’

I narrowed my eyes, knowing I was fighting a losing battle – uphill, unarmed and alone. How could they justify such a thing, these pirates I’d almost started to believe had hearts? I clenched my jaw and sat back in my chair, arms crossed. ‘Tell that to the families I’ve watched bury your victims.’

‘Your father’s crew raised their swords against us,’ the King spoke at last. ‘You can’t blame me for their deaths when they knew the fate they were asking for.’

I suppressed a snort of contempt. ‘I’ll blame whoever cut holes in their chests. And you, for sanctioning it.’

‘Please,’ he said shortly. ‘I have a fleet of twelve ships sailing under my name. You expect me to answer to all of them?’

Anger tightened like ropes around my lungs. Yes. ‘You could tell them to stop killing. You could do anything to help, yet you don’t.’

‘Why should I?’

I opened my mouth to respond, but Aron beat me to it. ‘We’d only fight Oren’s soldiers if we could, but we’ve got a fleet to feed. All regular ships, mind – that’s a lot o’ bellies to fill wi’out magic o’ any kind.’

‘We only kill when they fight,’ the King added. ‘And anyone who fights is a fool, so I hardly see how the world is worse off without them.’

Blood roared in my ears, and I hated how shrill my voice became when I spoke. Hated him more, for causing it – for a lot of things. ‘You don’t see anything wrong with that?’

I could’ve sworn his lips turned upwards as he said, ‘We’re pirates, blackbird.’

Una’s eyebrows shot up and Aron ducked his head to cover a smirk. I didn’t know if they understood the meaning behind his nickname for me – if they, too, believed me the unwitting herald of this war against Bane – but it made me feel oddly exposed.

Una laid a palm flat on the table, reaching for me. I stared at her hand, outrage still roiling in my stomach.

‘I can understand why ye’re angry, lass,’ she said softly. ‘This world ain’t easy.’

I looked away. ‘The world isn’t what forced me away from my family.’

The King sat motionless, as if unfazed by my fury, and I wished more than ever that I could see his expression.

‘Your family,’ he observed. ‘The father who gave you up to m— to us.’

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I gritted out, not caring that my temper had slipped in a room full of people. Hearing him speak of my family arrowed longing right through my lungs. Because of him – because of all of them – I might never see my beloved father again. Might never feel his arms around me, or hear Felicie’s laugh.

‘Just because you can’t understand love doesn’t mean I don’t feel it,’ I said. ‘I love my father more than anything. I sacrificed myself because you made me think we’d all die if I didn’t.’

‘Sacrifice,’ the King echoed. He mulled over his next words for a long time. ‘You left behind a dying land drenched in fear and a family that would’ve let you starve. Here you’re safe, with a belly full of food and a library full of books.’

Safe. I almost laughed. But he wasn’t wrong. If someone had asked me a month ago what I wanted, I’d have said those very things. Food, books, life.

‘What I want means nothing when I can’t share it with my family,’ I said. ‘Surely you can understand that, at least.’

Even the Heartless King must’ve had parents. Must have loved someone, once. But the crew’s averted gazes told me I’d assumed wrong.

‘Ask every person at this table whether they’d have done the same as you,’ the King said. ‘How much love they felt from those who raised them.’

---