Page 71 of A Curse of Salt

‘Two decades ago, they were my best friends,’ Mors said. There was something almost bitter in his voice as he spoke. Something like regret. ‘Your father married young, at King Oren’s behest, to a woman named Adalina. They were never unhappy, but he only ever loved your mother. When Oren found out Estelle was pregnant by him, I arranged for your parents’ escape to the north. He lost all his heirs in one that day.’

‘Why did they leave?’ I asked. What could a princess have to fear from her own brother?

‘That court is no place for anyone – especially not a child.’ Mors shook his head. ‘Estelle didn’t want it for her daughter, and neither did Adalina. She gave Aberdeen to your father in the hopes she’d have a normal life. I admit, I half hoped I’d never find out what became of you all. I took twenty years of silence as a good sign.’

Poor Aberdeen, I thought, picturing a dark-haired little girl being whisked from her home, from her mother, all for a normal life. As much as I’d resented it, that was all she’d ever tried to do for me. Protect me.

It was strange hearing Aberdeen’s name on Mors’ lips. He seemed to know more about my family than I ever had. Father certainly hadn’t given much away about his first wife, or the reasons he’d left her.

‘How could Aberdeen’s mother just give her up like that?’ I asked, a note of sadness sitting in my chest as I thought of my eldest sister. She’d been starved of a mother figure as much as I had, and I couldn’t imagine the pain of being deserted that way. Was a normal life really worth it?

Mors shook his head, gaze full of sympathy. ‘It broke her heart to do. But she trusted your father – they were friends more than they ever were husband and wife. She knew how he loved your mother. Neither of them were capable of hiding that, even from Oren.’

‘Is his court really so bad?’ I ventured. If protecting Felicie meant I’d wind up there one day, then I wanted to know what I faced. What I was trading this life for next.

Mors’ lips thinned. ‘It’s why we left. Your parents, Bane, me. After a while in that place, you begin to miss . . .’ He trailed off, all the futures he could’ve had reflected in his honey-coloured eyes.

‘What?’ I urged, leaning closer.

‘Living.’

I met Mors’ gaze across the table. Living. My heart ached a little at that – to know my mother had longed for the same things I did. Knowing she’d risked everything for a life of her own, only to die before she could truly live it. I thought of Felicie, of her fever-stricken form curled over on a flimsy mattress. Had it been worth it, in the end?

‘And you?’ I asked Mors. ‘If my parents were your closest friends, why didn’t you go with them?’

‘Sometimes I wish I had.’ He stared into the distance for a long moment before he glanced back at me with a wan smile. ‘But this is the life for me, lass. I couldn’t turn my back on it now.’

‘This life,’ I mused. ‘Chasing revenge.’

‘Justice,’ Mors corrected. ‘Bane knew the gravity of his actions when he turned against us. He chose this path for all of us.’

I frowned. Sebastien had said a similar thing about my father’s crew. About fishermen, merchants, fathers and sisters and sons. ‘You really think more bloodshed is the answer?’

‘If it were up to me, lass, there would be another way. But I know better than to bring the politics of court to the seas.’

His words irked me. ‘You’re the one who started all this,’ I said, recalling the last story Father had ever told me. ‘You exposed my father in front of the crew. How could you, if you knew it meant condemning his child?’

Mors bowed his head, hiding the shame that filled his eyes. ‘I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me, lass. I wish there was a way to explain – to make you understand that I will love your parents until my dying breath. Truly, I believed it was for the greater good . . .’

‘You chose this life for yourself,’ I said. ‘What right did you have to choose it for me?’

‘It killed me to do,’ he murmured, hands brushing over the book in front of him. ‘But your being here might save more lives than one.’

My frown deepened. There it was again – the greater good. I could only assume it had something to do with the sea, with this curse Sebastien had mentioned. Perhaps that was why these pirates were so willing to throw themselves into this vendetta of theirs. Perhaps Nerida demanded it. I didn’t know. All I knew was that I didn’t want them to die. That if it came down to it, I might do something foolish again.

‘What about Bane?’ I asked, steering my mind from those murky waters. ‘What did Oren do to his family?’

We don’t have to be enemies, love.

I knew I could never trust him, knew I’d probably be better off dead than siding with a traitor like him, but if joining him could spare the crew . . .

Mors shook his head, frowning. ‘I wasn’t there to witness it, but I’ve heard the stories. Of what my . . . of the things Oren did. A whole noble house burned to the ground for a slight against his name. Six sons, all killed in the blaze. They found Bane, the seventh, just standing in the ashes.’

‘And you’d kill him for wanting revenge?’ I asked.

Mors fidgeted with the gold rings banding his pale fingers. ‘People don’t become pirates because their lives were easy,’ he said eventually. ‘Everyone here has been through things, been burned by those they trusted. That’s why loyalty means everything. If you can’t trust your crew, then none of this means anything. Bane choosing his tortured past over the home he found here was like spitting on every single thing we stand for.’ He sighed heavily, sounding exhausted. ‘Ensuring that those who turned against us that day pay for what they did is the one thing keeping this ship together right now. Truly, lass’ – he looked up, meeting my eyes – ‘I am sorry I brought you into this. I let my loyalties blind me; I forgot where I came from.’

I wanted to be angry, but . . . I pictured the world without Mors’ actions. Father would be dead. I’d still be meandering over the cliffs of Northbay, picking through the scraps of the life we had there. Hungry, lonely, longing for the sea. I never would’ve ventured beyond the bay, never would’ve met the man in front of me. That last thought stung more than I’d expected.

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