Page 47 of A Curse of Salt

The man at Mersey’s side fixed his dull gaze on me. ‘Then why not just take her wi’ us?’ he sneered, addressing everyone but me. ‘Ye don’t need her if Bane’s comin’ anyway. Just kill him ’fore he gets the chance to check.’

Sebastien leaned forward to rest his arms on the table, the hall darkening as he spoke. ‘Think you deserve a reward, Col?’

‘Just sayin’, Yer Majesty.’ Col scratched the side of his shaved head, his smirk slipping. ‘Might give us more reason to fight, knowin’ we got a princess—’

‘You fly my pennant, you fight for me.’ Sebastien’s words were slow, deadly as the waves. The entire table fell silent and I sat up straighter, the hairs on my arms prickling. ‘You want to take that flag down? Be my guest. Then you fight against me, and you know what I do to my enemies.’

Col shifted in his seat, opening his mouth as if to object. I almost wished he’d say something more – something to draw out the real monster hiding beneath that hood.

‘Got it, Your Majesty,’ Mersey interceded. I didn’t miss the bite to her tone as she said the words. ‘But I can’t promise how many’ll follow your orders forever. Careful what you leave behind.’

Leave behind? Where was he going?

I shrank back in my chair, pretending to fixate on my plate while my mind raced. I’d heard the answer before: home. But it still made little sense – what home did they have beyond the hull of this ship? If the Sinking Cities had truly been swallowed by the waves, if their kingdom had sunk below, what could there be left to return to?

‘Enough talkin’,’ Golde grunted, snatching a bottle of rum from the centre of the table. ‘Ye’ll do as we say, long as we’re here. Col, open yer mouth again and I’ll be happy to shut it for ye. Permanently.’

Col slouched back, arms crossed over his barrel chest, quiet at last. I glared at him from across the table, almost reassured by the anger that seeped from the King’s shadowy figure beside me.

The discord eased as the pirates settled back into their conversations, emptying bottle after bottle between them. I drank nothing myself, knowing I’d be a fool to let my guard down around any of them. I’d been a fool to ever think I could.

I gazed around the table as they laughed and drank, their faces cleaved by fire and shadow, so strange yet so human. The same, yet different all at once from the ruthless mercenaries I’d watched cut down their enemies in battle. Perhaps Aron was right. How else could they preserve this life of theirs when its very nature went against everything the outside world stood for?

I felt a hand on my arm and looked up to see Una standing over my chair. She jerked her head towards the blazing hearth at the other end of the room. I followed, wondering whether it was really she who wanted my company, or the others who didn’t.

‘Don’t listen to anythin’ that bastard Col says,’ Una assured me as we settled into a pair of armchairs before the mantelpiece. ‘Ye don’t need to worry ’bout them.’

‘Why exactly are they here, then?’ I asked.

‘Oh, just visitin’,’ Una said dismissively. But she was a bad liar – I could read it in her wrinkled brow.

‘Captain Mersey used to be part of your crew, didn’t she?’ I guessed. ‘Aron said she was an old friend.’

‘Something like that, aye.’ Una swept her long braids over one shoulder, the sadness in her eyes illuminated by the fire. ‘She’s been captain o’ Sebastien’s fleet since before I was even born.’

‘Why did she leave?’

Una shook her head. ‘Too painful.’

I followed her gaze back to the table behind us. To Golde, her head bent in sullen silence. To Mersey who, despite her lively crew, didn’t seem to be able to muster so much as a smile. I’d sensed the tension between them, the undercurrent of something buried deep beneath spite and weak indifference.

‘Fifty years ago they met,’ Una said softly.

My eyes darted to Golde, taking in her youthful skin and fathomless eyes. Fifty years. I held my breath, knowing Una was telling me more than she should. More than anyone else seemed willing to.

‘I wasn’t alive then, o’ course.’ Una’s words were barely audible over the crackling flames. ‘But Aron was here. He told me ‘bout the way Golde and Mersey fell in love – the way ye can only once in a lifetime. However long that migh’ be. Ye don’t let go o’ that kinda love, ye know? No matter how hard ye try.’

I looked down at the fire, my eyes hot. I didn’t know – didn’t think I ever would.

My gaze was drawn back to the table as Aron’s laughter rang out. I’d been fooled, I realised, by their smiles. It was no wonder they fought so wildly, so recklessly. Their real wounds ran centuries deep, more piercing than any they could earn in battle.

I shivered, turning back to the hearth to watch the pirouetting flames: a pantomime of fire, playing out memories over the coals. I saw my family, gathered around in the living room. Heard my father, reading stories over the hiss of cinders. I could’ve loved that life, that peaceful existence. Maybe someday I would. But to lose it, time and time again? To outlive each person, each place, I ever dared to love? Maybe Sebastien had been right. Maybe it was a curse.

‘And you?’ I asked quietly. ‘What’s your place in all this?’

‘Same as theirs,’ Una murmured. ‘’Til the very end.’

The shadows in the grate twisted, turning to figures that danced beneath swirling ash. Pirates, made of the night. Words I’d overheard and almost forgotten washed up on the shores of my mind, reminding me that the secrets went far deeper than I could grasp. Less than three months . . . doomed . . . Something greater than you could imagine . . . Three hundred years.

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