Shattered

by Stef M Ensing

  “It doesn’t matter if he did. It was my decision.”

  “Dragon piss.”

  “It was,” she insisted. “Takara, my dad was right. I couldn’t face it any more than he could have if they got hurt or died on this trip. I couldn’t risk it. I have to keep them safe.”

  “So instead you risk everything and they hate you for it.”

  “Just let it go.”

  Takara frowned but didn’t press.

  Nyla bounded up to them. “We’re ready.” She clapped her hands with glee and then hugged Payton before leaping on Takara and giving her a kiss on the mouth.

  “Down you manic pixie.” Takara extracted herself from Nyla’s grip.

  Payton laughed as Nyla waved and then danced off toward the ship. “I swear, she’d row us to Kydessa if she had to.”

  “No doubt.”

  Turning to Takara she gave the woman a tight smile. “I guess this is it. Wish us luck.”

  “Good luck, Payton. And come back.”

  “That’s the goal. That and coming back swimming in coin.”

  “I’ll take you lot coming back alive.”

  Sharing a tight smile and one more bid farewell, she and Takara parted ways. Payton wove around the frantic crew who were still moving in the last minute preparations to set sail and made her way to the bow next to the restlessly hyper Nyla. Payton was forced to grab hold of the railing to keep from being knocked over when Nyla squealed and grabbed her the moment the sails dropped.

  Chuckling weakly, Payton looked at the blue waters ahead of them. “Ready or not, here we go.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Jarrett was beginning to wonder if he would ever feel right again. He leaned his head against the wall, eyes closed; trying to ignore the way the ship was rocking. The effort to still his shaking hands was useless. There had to be an end to the nausea, he thought. There had to be a way to make it stop.

  The first day at sea and nearly all save Payton, the Malvathar, and one of the warriors she had hired, came down rather violently ill despite the so-called ‘calm’ waters. Jarrett mocked the idea of calling this calm. The constant sway and heaving of the ship. Would it never end?

  Nyla was by far the worst. She hadn’t even made it a half hour at sea before she was running for a bucket. Since then the only time the redhead had left her bunk was for fresh air, and that promptly had her hanging on the edge of the ship; vomiting over the side. At the moment he could hear her moaning from her hammock each time the ship made it sway.

  To Jarrett’s mortification, he had had the horrid luck of managing until nightfall of the first day before stumbling to the railing and spewing what he had had in his stomach. The action caused the sailors to laugh knowingly, clearly expecting all of them to be ill. He was positive that he saw money exchange hands as though they had a bet on who would be the first and second they saw vomit.

  “Atherly,” Nyla groaned, throwing something that hit the blond, who had just entered the room, with a thunk. “Make it stop.”

  “Hold your horses.” The Malvathar had the audacity to sound amused.

  “I’ll hurl on you, so help me.”

  Jarrett heard a familiar laugh that made him finally want to open his eyes. Ignoring the movement of the hammocks which only served to make matters worse, he saw Payton standing in the doorway just beyond Atherly. She looked fine. Traitorous rogue. Standing there on two firm feet not looking the least bit nauseous. And she was managing to hold a deep bowl that had steam coming out of it without dropping it or any liquid spilling out.

  “Do you have the ability to vomit at will?” Payton asked.

  “Yes. They teach it when you buy a tavern. Now fix me!”

  “Alright, alright,” Atherly grumbled as he moved forward, pressing a cup into her hand. Greedily Nyla fumbled with it and Atherly was forced to help her, guiding the cup up for her to drink. “Don’t you even want to know what it is?”

  “If it’s gonna fix me, I don’t care,” she stated firmly.

  “So saying you just drank privy runoff won’t change your opinion?” teased Payton as she followed Atherly further into the room, the two of them heading for the next seasick person who was barely functional in their hammock.

  Nyla patted herself briefly and then huffed. “Damn it, I’m out of things to throw.”

  “I’d say that’s a good thing. Can’t have you injuring my lovely assistant,” Atherly stated. “I must say, I’ve enjoyed having her all to myself.”

  Jarrett frowned.

  “I’m glad our misery can bring you some joy,” Caius – one of the warriors and two Black Foxes she had brought – retorted.

  “Alone time with Payton? Come now, who would pass that up?”

  “I’m right here,” Payton complained.

  “Yes and we’re complimenting you.”

  “Sounds more like you’re talking about me like I’m some prized pup.”

  “Maybe a bitch,” Nyla commented only to have Payton glare at her. “My mistake. Atherly’s the bitch. He’s the one always in heat. So have you helped him scratch his itch?”

  “Nyla,” Payton groaned as she and Atherly continued to move about the room.

  Jarrett scowled at the conversation and the turn it had gone.

  “Yeah, Payton, when are you going to help me scratch my itch?”

  “Atherly, if you have anything that itches, I’m not going near it.”

  His silver eyes lit up as if he had won something. “Ah, but if it doesn’t itch, you will?”

  They had come to a stop in front of Jarrett. The Malvathar had automatically refilled the cup and was kneeling down to hand it over, not even looking at him but Jarrett reared back, instinctively knocking his hand away, not wanting anything that man had to offer. The cup clattered to the floor, spilling the contents.

  “Stay away from me,” he snarled on instinct.

  Jarrett glared at them both heatedly for a moment before pushing to his feet. He wavered but then stood defiantly. He tried to walk out with dignity, to pretend he had not just acted so petulantly but he was fairly certain the way he staggered took away most of that.

  “Rutting bastard,” Atherly grumbled fetching the cup only to huff in frustration. “He cracked it! And you say I act like a child. Wait here, I’ll go find another one. We’ll finish off this dose. He can suffer for all I care.”

  Payton sighed, wondering if she should have tried to stop Jarrett or perhaps traded places with Atherly. It might have been easier for him to take the tea from her.

  “You’re going to regret bringing them both, blue eyes. They’ll tear each other to shred,” Nyla commented, being the second person to warn her in as many days.

  “I didn’t bring them both. I brought Jarrett as another sword. You brought the insatiable flirt.”

  It was a weak argument. She had known Atherly was coming when she had asked Jarrett. It was a foolish choice, one she should have thought through more thoroughly but she trusted Jarrett to have her back and now that she had to face this without her brothers…

  “I made them promise to behave. They know the ice wastelands are not the place to argue about Malvathar.”

  “Not so insatiable anymore. Not since he set his eyes on you. And that isn’t what I meant. They’ll rip each other apart over you, silly girl.”

  Payton groaned. “You’re insane. And I’m insane for following you into this place.”

  “Just the sort of thing you want to hear from the woman who hired you,” Kathleen muttered from her hammock.

  Atherly returned and they made another round of the room but she stopped him before he finished the bowl. He looked at her confused for a moment before understanding dawned on him. “You can’t be serious.”

  “He’s sick, Atherly.”

  “He had a tantrum and ran off.”

  “That was hardly a tantrum.”

  “He acts like a child.”

  “Do you really want to get into who acts like a child?”

&nbs
p; She took the cup from him, filling it and dropping the empty bowl in the blond’s hands before marching off in search of Jarrett. She found him on deck at the bow of the ship, leaning heavily on the railing for support. Coming up alongside him, she watched how he tensed when he heard her approach.

  “Here,” she said offering the cup out.

  He eyed it, a guarded look on his face.

  “I helped make it. It’ll help soothe your stomach. You’ll get your sea legs in no time.”

  Slowly he took it, hating how his hand was still shaking. Drinking it down he was relieved to taste nothing but ginger and aloeroot. It tingled as it went down his throat and he could feel the effects of the aloeroot begin to work immediately. But he still felt weak and ill. He clenched the cup, glaring at it as if it had offended him. Why hadn’t it fixed him?

  “It’s not an instant heal, Jarrett. It will take a bit to work. We’ll be making more in a few hours. Hopefully, by tomorrow, everyone will be on their feet again.” She gave him a smile. “You’re already halfway there.”

  “How is it that you and the Malvathar and your Onyx friend are fine? What sorcery did you use?” he accused, frustrated at his vulnerability.

  Payton let out a sweet chuckle that was maddening because it made him want to smile. Why did it make him want to smile? “If there was a magical remedy for seasickness I think Atherly would be making a lot more money than he already does by marketing it. I think it’s just that some people have a tolerance and others don’t.”

  He groaned and hung his head. Useless.

  “Do you want to sit down?”

  “I’m not going back inside. It smells of sweat and puke.” His tone was far sharper than she deserved.

  She motioned to a stack of crates tied against the foremast. Offering him support, she helped him to it and he sank down, leaning against the mast, glad to be off his feet.

  “Thank you,” he said quietly.

  Payton just gave him a smile and joined him. “Don’t mention it.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  There was absolutely no organization to this mess. Payton lugged a crate of winter supplies away from food grains and cursed the rutting sailors and dock hands who decided to pack the hold this way. While things had been arriving at the Toph in a rather random order there was no excuse for… for THIS!

  She had come down to fetch more aloeroot and ginger for the tea only to find chaos. She was positive Yannis was involved somehow. She had thought she had taken precautions to make sure her former-former boss couldn’t screw anything for this trip for her but this smelled like him. Grunting she attempted to lift another crate but resorted to shoving and kicking it to her intended destination. Yannis did this as a passive-aggressive way to irritate her because he could not get at her specifically anymore.

  She landed another fierce kick to the crate sending it skidding into the desired spot. And of course, the ledger of what had been delivered was missing making it impossible to keep track of the quantities of what they actually managed to get aboard.

  “Does that accomplish your task faster or simply burn off your frustration?”

  Payton let out a sound that was entirely too close to a squeak for her liking as she fell on her bum. The fact it in the process of prying open another box to double check that the markings matched the contents – she wouldn’t put it past Yannis to mess that up too – rather than because of being startled didn’t make it any better.

  Blowing a strand of hair from her face she squinted up at the man who startled her. “You look remarkably sure on your feet. And wet.”

  He made a face, his black hair plastered to his brow. “There was… an incident.”

  “Sound mysterious.”

  “One of your paid swords took Nyla up on her challenge.”

  “Which one?”

  “The Crimson Tide mage.”

  Payton blinked and looked up again, pausing her tugging on the lid. “No. I meant which challenge.”

  He pressed his lips together. “Projectile vomit contest.”

  She tried and failed to swallow a giggle. “I’m sure Jolene didn’t actually mean to take part.”

  “Nevertheless it sent off a chain reaction.”

  “Seriously?” She jerked slightly when the lid finally came up. She knew it! Mislabeled. She was going to teach him a lesson. Maybe set Nyla on him. Or Takara. Or both.

  “Black Foxes followed by Nyla herself.”

  “Poor things.”

  “It took me an hour to get the smell out.”

  Payton simply gave up and started laughing. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t I know I shouldn’t but… Creators, I needed a laugh.”

  Jarrett didn’t respond, merely arched his brow at her. “What are you doing?”

  “Arranging the furniture,” she said sarcastically, the good mood fading.

  She dropped the lid down and pushed the container over to the stack that she had been making for food, ripping the tag off in the process. Winter gear her ass.

  There was silence behind her as she fought to open a barrel. She could feel his quizzical eyes on her. At first, she wanted to snap at him to either help or go away but… he didn’t deserve her temper. With a sigh, she settled back on her haunches and looked at him. Slowly she explained what happened and who she suspected was behind it and the mess she now found herself with.

  “Would you like help?”

  “You sure you’re up for it?”

  As if he took that as a challenge, he came forward and yanked off in one pull the top of the barrel she had been fighting with. She let out an exasperated laugh at how easily he had done that. The smell of salted meat wafted up at them. Without a word he set the lid back down and hauled the crate to the stack, she had been making. At least he didn’t look smug about it. Simply turned back to her and waited to see what she wanted to tackle next.

  Scanning the hold she narrowed in on the high pile of crates that were secured with ropes. They were stacked nearly to the ceiling, lined almost completely against the back corner and irritatingly had no indication of what was within. Poor organization. Poor labeling. Poor everything! She was going to kill Yannis!

  Darting off she scaled the boxes with ease.

  “Payton?!” Jarrett called, the concern was evident in his tone.

  “Relax. I used to do this as a job.”

  “Not on a moving ship,” he said in a tight voice.

  Jarrett was peering at her, his brown eyes intensely conveying more than he could ever say in words. He was worried about her getting hurt. Warmth spread through her at the realization.

  “I’ll be careful, Jarrett,” she reassured softly. “I promise.”

  Slowly he gave a curt nod, that penetrating look never leaving his face.

  Turning back, she untied the crate and worked the lid off. Her jaw dropped in shock when she saw its contents. She couldn’t believe her luck. She had been dreading the weeks of salted and gruel-like food that they would have to endure and ration out, knowing that even the thought of something fresh was nothing but a pipe dream. Yet, somehow, staring up at her was a crate full of apples. Apples! And they were still two months from the primary harvest season.

  Pulling one out she brought it to her nose, inhaling the scent of it. It smelled heavenly. Dropping her hand down, she ran her fingers over the rest of the apples that lined the top, checking their condition. They were on the verge of ripening, some already turned, ready to be eaten. Creators. She was practically salivating. They had fresh fruit! She was overcome with the desire of eating one immediately. Screw organizing the mess of the cargo hold. This was more important. Settling down she grabbed one of the ripe apples, eager to take a bite.

  “Payton.” Her name was strangled out of the man below her.

  Blinking, she found that he was still standing at the base of the crate stack, watching her. “Yes?”

  “Are you planning to come down?”

  She looked at the treasure of delicious beside her and the treat
in her hand before wiggling in her spot. “Nah. I’m comfy.”

  “Payton.”

  How did he manage to put so much emotion in saying her name? “Yes Jarrett?” she asked innocently.

  “Come down.”

  Wrinkling her nose feeling entirely too playful, she shook her head. “No thanks.” Payton rubbed one of the perfectly ripe red apples on her pants. “Want one?” she teased holding it up tantalizingly.

  The desire for the fruit was clear on his face.

  “They smell so good,” she teased, breathing in the scent again to demonstrate. She then held the apple out as if to entice him. “If you want one, you’ve got to come and get it.”

  He swallowed hard, eyes darting from the crate stack to the apple in her hand to her and then going full circle again.

  Payton bit into the juicy fruit, exaggerating a moan of pleasure. “They taste heavenly.”

  “Payton,” he said in a deep throaty way that made her shiver with pleasure.

  “You sure you don’t want to come up?”

  Her heart pounded in her chest at the intense look he was giving her.

  “There’s an apple here just calling your name.” Closing her eyes she took another bite of her apple, reveling in the juicy crisp taste. “Mmmm, these are amazing.”

  Jarrett let out a noise that almost sounded like a growl, removing his sword, and stalking the last few feet to the stack. Her breath caught as he hauled himself up, heading toward her with single-minded determination. For one moment her heart stopped, he was balanced on one of the lower crates, half leaning toward her, almost touching her.

  Grinning cheekily at him, she pretended to be surprised. “You made it.”

  “Payton.”

  Goosebumps ran down her arms, his voice should be outlawed, the very sound of him saying her name was enthralling. “Oh, you want an apple?” she said glibly. “Why didn’t you say so? I had no idea.”

  “Payton.”

  She could see his eyes sparkle despite the serious look on his face. “Well, let me see.” Payton pretended to search the crate. “That one isn’t ripe enough, not that one; not that one…”