Page 91 of A Curse of Salt

Now it was my turn to protect us. To venture into King Oren’s outstretched arms and try to twist them in our favour – try to save Father. Even if that meant abandoning my crew, letting them sail into Bane’s waiting onslaught without me.

I didn’t want to imagine what he’d do when he discovered I wasn’t there.

I can’t leave them like this. I shook my head for the thousandth time, reminding myself I no longer had a choice.

My eyes travelled the moonlight-dappled room, from the canopy of the bed under which I’d passed so many restless nights to the window through which I’d watched the sea, trying to convince myself it wasn’t my home.

Draped across the mattress was the black coat I’d taken from Sebastien’s room. I lifted the heavy fabric from the bed and slid my arms through the sleeves, shrugging it on. It smelled of him – of books and firelight and the sea. The thick leather settled around me, an echo of comfort that resounded inside my empty chest.

I rolled up the sleeves as I turned for the door, the coat-tails almost brushing the floor, when I heard footsteps out in the hall. The last person I expected to see was Golde, slouching against the doorframe, dressed in her usual grubby attire, sabre hanging at her hip.

‘Hello,’ I said, failing to mask the surprise in my voice.

Golde ignored my greeting. ‘So,’ she said slowly. ‘Ye’re really leavin’.’

‘S’pose you’re happy about it,’ I remarked.

The first mate shook her head. ‘Just impressed ye made it this long,’ she said with a smirk. ‘Ye might be a fool, and vain as a peacock, and ye haven’t got a clue about nothin’—’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Is this going somewhere?’

Golde’s sable hair gleamed in the silver light. ‘I know the rest o’ them talk a lot about hope. ‘’S the only reason Mors and Una’ve stuck ’round so damn long . . .’

I raised a brow, unsure where she was going. ‘And you?’ I prompted. ‘You’re just here for the pillaging, then?’

‘Aye.’ Golde glanced away. ‘But if it weren’t fer hope . . . Well, I would’ve killed ye a long time ago, ye know.’

‘Nice to hear,’ I deadpanned. Like she hadn’t tried.

‘Not that I’d much hope fer ye anyway. Pathetic, scraggly thing ye were. But if I’d known— Why’re ye smiling?’ She broke off, fixing me with that familiar glare.

‘No reason.’ I bit down on my grin. ‘I just realised this might be the first time we’ve spoken without you threatening me with a dagger.’

‘We ain’t finished yet,’ Golde said, already reaching for the blade at her side.

‘No, ah – I think we’re done.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ the first mate grunted, sheathing her sabre and retreating to the hall. But she hesitated a moment, fingers drumming on her sword hilt. ‘Look,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I came to thank ye.’

‘Thank me?’

‘Aye.’ Golde shifted on her feet, shoulders rigid with tension, jaw clenched. ‘Ye reminded him how to live,’ she said at last, eyes darting to the floor. ‘No matter what happens, I’ll always owe ye fer that.’

I glanced at the horizon beyond the windows, trying to hold back the tears that pricked at my eyes. Golde, who was hurting and hid it. Golde, who’d saved me from Cullen’s men and tried to stop me from diving into the water after Sebastien. However she felt about me, Aron had been right. She had my back.

‘My family needs me,’ I choked out.

‘Aye,’ Golde said, turning back into the hall. ‘They do.’

I emerged into the cool night air, each step slower and heavier than the last. When I raised my eyes, I saw them – Una, Mors, Aron and Sebastien were gathered under the moonlight, lined up at the edge of the main deck where Theo and a second sailor waited, looking nervously at their companions. Their ship hovered close by, awaiting my arrival. I was glad Aberdeen wasn’t there to watch, to see me break apart my own heart, piece by piece. She’d come so far, fought so hard, and I knew she’d do it all over again for Felicie. I couldn’t let her go on alone.

I swallowed, dragging my feet to move where my heart couldn’t. Una’s cheeks were flushed and tracked with tears as she pulled me fiercely into her arms. I hugged her back, my head buried against her shoulder, inhaling her citrus scent, wishing I didn’t have to let go. Wishing the day would end before it had even begun, that the nightmare would be over.

Una pulled back, her eyes soft, molten hazel. ‘Won’t ye stay?’ she asked quietly.

‘I can’t,’ I said, the words bleeding like a lie from my tongue. But I had to believe it. ‘I need to save my family.’

Una wiped her eyes with a sniff. ‘Just don’t go forgettin’ me, a’ight?’

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