Flintlock (Cutlass Series)

by Ashley Nixon

  She looked around, searching for Barren. She found him sitting on one of the barrels at the back of the ship and approached him.

  “It’s not close to morning,” Barren said. “Why are you up?”

  She looked at him, and seeing that he had his canteen around his body, she reached for it. “I was thirsty,” she said, drinking deeply. The thirst from her nightmare still clung to her throat.

  Barren raised a brow. “Bad dream?”

  “How did you guess?”

  He looked at her with a smile in his eyes, and she felt her heart squeeze a bit. “Well, it’s just a guess, but I’d suspect anyone might have nightmares after seeing what’s in Cove’s hatch.”

  She wanted to ask him how he knew, but he answered as if guessing her thoughts.

  “I saw you sneak in,” he said, shaking his head. “Always curious.”

  While there was a slight smile on his face, she couldn’t help but feel he was disappointed.

  “Oh,” she said quietly, drawing her brows tighter.

  She was stubborn, a fact she had never denied. She hated to be told what to do, especially when Barren tried to command her. After Barren had told them about the killings, she’d wanted to see the wounds, thinking maybe it would give her a better idea of what they were dealing with. It hadn’t. Instead, the images rolled around in her head like a living nightmare.

  “I guess you weren’t able to sleep at all, then, either?” she asked.

  “No, though even if I wanted to move from this spot, I could not at the moment,” he indicated his left leg. She knew that meant he was suffering from another round of paralysis, a lasting reminder of the hemlock that had raced through his veins, made more potent by magic.

  She knew he would prefer to forget his link to magic, but it was in his blood, their blood, as they had been reminded again today. Their mothers were Elves born with Lyric blood. It made them half-Elf, but also half-Lyric. Because of this, their lives were at the mercy of others’ expectations. They were expected to retaliate, to betray. She supposed they both had a habit of meeting expectations in all the wrong ways.

  Even stranger was that the Elders seemed more concerned with Barren and Larkin than any other threat that existed in Mariana, and after what she had seen today, she knew there were far worse things.

  “Are you worried that the privateers who did this will attack Silver Crest soon?”

  “I am worried,” said Barren, but he did not elaborate.

  “The Elders are wasting time having trials when they could be fighting.”

  “There was a time when they would have jumped at the chance,” said Barren grimly. “I’m not sure why they think that avoiding the fight will make the privateers go away.”

  “Maybe they are looking to get out,” Larkin said absently.

  Barren looked at her, perplexed.

  “What?” Larkin continued, “You cannot deny that this is a hard life, and it has clearly been hard on the Elders. They’re working to protect a population that has grown to include women and children. You’re more than pirates, you know—you’re people, too.”

  “There was a time when you didn’t believe that,” Barren said, a brow raised.

  “There was,” she agreed. “But I know differently now.”

  “What you are suggesting, it doesn’t make sense. It goes against everything the code stands for,” he said.

  “It does go against the code,” she agreed. “But it didn’t seem to me that they were overly eager to abide by it in the first place.”

  Barren said nothing. He had yet to openly express any disappointment or disagreement with the Elders, and he seemed to be uncomfortable whenever she did. Larkin watched as he looked out at the water, as if it might listen and report back to the Elders or perhaps retaliate immediately. To see Barren at the mercy of a group of old, bitter men and women was both frustrating and strange. Why was he giving them so much power?

  “And to let the fight with Edward get so out of hand,” she said. “Were they hoping someone would shed blood?”

  Barren let out an irritated sigh, and raked his hands through his hair. “It was wrong of them to let that happen. It was wrong of Edward to challenge me in such a way.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Edward’s attack on you was a challenge to me,” he said. “The challenge went unmet. The next time we meet at sea, I may choose to engage in that challenge.”

  “I think Edward challenged me,” she said. “Would you deprive me of my first challenge? I’m sure I could easily break his other hand.”

  “I would not let you rise up to meet him,” said Barren. “You are not trusted among the pirates of Silver Crest, and truly, you are not one of us. If you were to kill or even wound Edward, things would only become worse for you.”

  Why was it that suddenly everyone wanted to remind her that she didn’t belong?

  “You think you are any more trusted than I am at this point?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I’m not the daughter of Christopher Lee.”

  She set her jaw and glared at him. Why couldn’t anyone separate who she was from who her father was? “Then let me swear to the code,” she said.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you don’t swear to the code just to prove something,” Barren said, struggling to his feet, his leg still stiff. “You swear to the code because you believe in it!”

  Larkin opened her mouth to argue that she did believe in the code, but there was a part of her that hesitated, and that was the part that didn’t completely believe that the code was best. Perhaps it was Barren’s trial or the Elders’ conduct that was holding her back.

  “I’m not my father,” Larkin said quietly.

  “I know that,” he said and sighed. “They know that, too, but they also know there’s a chance you’ll decide this life isn’t right for you. Then what? You take our secrets with you.”

  “Is that what you believe?” she demanded. Even if he didn’t believe that, she was surprised these words came out of his mouth.

  “No, but they do,” he said. “It’s not necessary to convince me, Larkin. You have to convince them.”

  “I didn’t realize I needed anyone else’s approval to be here.”

  Barren sort of laughed, but he was not entertained. “I asked you to join me,” he said. “But we should have realized that our circumstances are more complicated than that. We’re the children of Lyrics and our fathers were enemies.”

  “So maybe the circumstances aren’t the best,” she said. “Does that mean you are unwilling to fight for me?”

  He stared at her and then pulled her forward. Her hands landed on his chest, and she stared up into his eyes and shivered. When he looked like this, he seemed so serious, as if he were prepared to swear an oath—and perhaps he was. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. She took in a shaking breath.

  “I’ll always fight for you,” his voice was low, and as his lips covered hers, a fire ignited within her, filling her soul. She knew he told the truth. They had been raised as rivals, but this feeling told her that they had been bred for something more.

  ***

  The moon was full and the stars were swollen with light, so when Arcarum came into view, its beauty was apparent, even in the full of night. The coast was like a grand mountain with houses stacked into its façade, rising like a terrace. Firelight burned outside several houses, welcoming beacons to all but pirates.

  “Wonder if Cove will parade us through the streets,” said Sam, as he turned the wheel ever so slightly to follow Cove’s ship.

  “You know he won’t,” Barren said. “You are being a cynic.”

  The helmsman smiled, showing his teeth. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  Cove approached. He and a few other crewmen had decided to sail on Barren’s ship so when the time came, they could crew the vessel to port.

  “Since Arcarum is in view, I think it would be a good idea for everyone
to hide,” said Cove. “The port captains do not always patrol my port, but we should take precaution.”

  “What excuse have you for bringing this ship to port?” Barren asked curiously.

  “It isn’t uncommon to claim a ship one has conquered,” Cove said with a smile. “I didn’t get where I am today by being unprepared. Trust that I have a fitting story to tell.”

  His crew dispersed and Barren entered his cabin, shutting the door behind him. He walked to his desk and unlocked the top drawer, pulling out a leather-bound book. There were certain things Barren always took with him if he went inland, and one was his sketchbook. King Tetherion and the twins had taken great pride in relaying the humor of a pirate who drew. That had both embarrassed and angered him. It would also prove to be an incriminating detail if found on his ship. The second thing he always brought with him—indeed, he hardly took it off—was the compass he’d pulled from his mother’s corpse.

  It was broken, the needle tending to spin in rapid circles, which Barren found strange. Scorch-like marks marred the place where the stone had once rested in the back of the compass. The compass itself was a memory of his childhood, perhaps the only memory he had other than that of his father’s death. When Barren had it on, he felt protected. Like there was a barrier between him and the rest of the world.

  He also knew there was magic still attached to it. He could feel it, though it wasn’t strong. That was another thing that had changed after he began the journey to find the bloodstone. It was also something that frightened him. If he could feel magic, did that mean he could somehow wield it? What if there was some truth to the Elders’ fears?

  He had to push those thoughts away. If he could wield magic, surely it would have surfaced by now.

  He walked to the window as the ship came to port. Maris might be the biggest island in the Orient, but one thing was for certain, Arcarum was the most beautiful. It had every type of terrain: sandy beaches, tall mountains, and even a thick fringe of forest managed to snake its way through the island. It was a place he might visit more often if he wasn’t a wanted fugitive.

  He moved away from the window when he heard voices outside. They were low and cautious, and Barren suddenly wished Leaf was here to tell him what was being said. Several minutes passed before there was a rap on Barren’s door.

  “It’s me,” Cove called and poked his head inside.

  “All is clear, but you must move fast. Hollow will take you to the tunnel,” said Cove. Hollow had also accompanied Barren to D’Avana. He was Cove’s best friend and a Senator in Arcarum. “I will take the bodies to Dr. Newell. It is late enough that no one will see me deliver them.”

  “I could accompany you to Dr. Newell’s,” said Barren. “If that is the case.”

  He didn’t like the idea of Cove delivering five bodies in the middle of the night alone. Besides, he wanted to meet this Dr. Newell. He wanted to know what was so special about this doctor. Why had he been the first person Cove thought of when he’d found the bodies?

  “It is not for the best. I have yet to inform him that you are visiting.”

  “Do you fear his reaction?”

  “No, but Barren Reed should come with at least a little bit of warning, don’t you think?”

  Barren didn’t say anything. Hollow approached. “The others are ready,” he said.

  Barren left his cabin, locking it tight behind him, and moved to join Hollow and his crew. Unconsciously he pulled his hat down farther and checked that all his weapons were near. It suddenly occurred to him that the decision to kill here was much harder than the one he had to make at sea. Here, a death meant a body, and letting someone go meant the possibility of a snitch. He pushed the thought away quickly. Hopefully it was something he wasn’t going to have to deal with during his stay.

  They followed Hollow through the bright night, traveling on the very edge of Arcarum where civilization had yet to invade. He led them up grassy hills overlooking Cove’s private port. Hollow had referred to them as the Sea Cliffs because if you walked far enough south, the grassy ground became stone and plunged down into a cradle of waves and jagged rocks.

  After some time, Hollow stopped and crouched to the ground. He pulled back a grass square to expose a set of wooden doors. Hollow knocked once, and from the other side Barren heard something like a rusted latch shift. After a moment, Hollow pulled the doors open. An aged man stood at their feet with a lantern in hand.

  “Get in,” Hollow commanded.

  “G-get in?” Barren looked at the dark hole at his feet.

  “Yes, this is a tunnel. Nob will take you straight to Cove’s home,” said Hollow. He peered around as if he were suspicious, which made Barren all the more paranoid.

  “Nob?”

  “How’d ya do?” The old man smiled without showing teeth, but it was a warm smile.

  Hollow’s voice suddenly became more urgent. “We don’t have time for you to question loyalties, Barren Reed. Get in.”

  The pirate jumped into the tunnel and the others followed. Hollow did not. He shut the doors behind Sam, who was the last one in. The old man Hollow had called Nob reached up and latched the door.

  “Let’s get to walkin’. Gets cold down here fast.”

  The old man hobbled forward with the lantern and the pirates followed rather dumbly. At least this answered their question as to how they would get to Cove’s home without being spotted. A tunnel. A tunnel straight to his home. Barren wondered when and why this had been created, but he had a feeling he already knew that this was an escape route just in case Cove ever needed it. Just in case he was caught.

  “Where did Hollow go?” Barren asked.

  “To check the ports,” the old man replied.

  “But he just came from there,” said Barren.

  “Mmm-hmm,” Nob agreed and Barren heard Leaf chuckle behind him—he wasn’t going to get any answers out of this man. Nob had been taught to keep his mouth shut. This was a characteristic Barren usually admired, until it kept him from getting what he wanted.

  “You should take note of your surroundings and how you got here, for if there is a reason to flee, you’ll be seeing this tunnel again.”

  “What does he mean, take a look at these tunnels? It’s dark as night in here!” Leaf grumbled.

  “Why’re you complaining? You’re a bloody Elf. It’s not like you have trouble seeing,” Slay countered irritably.

  Barren shook his head and continued forward, following the old man as he made his way down the dark tunnel. It smelled of dirt, and the air was moist. His boots, caked with mud, became heavier as he moved along, and at one point he ran into an unlit lantern hanging from one of the wooden beams built into the side of the tunnel. Some good they did.

  Though the tunnel was cold, Barren drew warmth from Larkin, who walked beside him.

  “Were you aware of this?”

  She looked at him surprised. “I wasn’t aware that he was a pirate, how could I have known about this tunnel?”

  “True,” Barren conceded.

  There was silence. "Do you think Cove is happy?" Larkin asked, which caught Barren off guard. What a strange question, he thought.

  “Why wouldn't he be?”

  “He smiles, but…it doesn’t touch his eyes.”

  And then she moved ahead, down the dark tunnel. There were a lot of reasons Cove might be unhappy. Their brethren dying at sea might be one reason; the Elders’ behavior at Sanctuary could be another, but the way Larkin had spoken made Barren think he was missing something.

  Sometimes Barren forgot that Larkin and Cove had a relationship before he knew either of them. They’d known each other in this life, the one where Cove was ambassador and Larkin a Lady. They’d gone to balls, interacted socially, shared friends and drinks. It was sort of silly, but sometimes Barren felt a little jealous.

  At last they came to the end of the tunnel. Nob stepped upon a short ladder and pushed another door open. He climbed out of the tunnel and the pirates followed hi
m.

  They found themselves in a dim basement. It seemed this was where all the extra decorations and chairs went when Cove wasn’t having lavish parties, because there were boxes of fine garlands and stacks of well-cushioned chairs all about. Nob covered the hole they’d climbed from. The door fit in seamlessly, and for added protection, the old man moved a set of chairs over it.

  “I will show you to the ambassador’s study,” he said and turned as a butler would to lead them upstairs. Nob opened the door after he mounted the stairs and they instantly felt a gust of warm air surround them. Barren welcomed it, as the chill from the tunnel pricked his arms. The smell of coffee and cinnamon filled his senses and Barren inhaled deeply, finding it odd that something as simple as a smell could make one feel safe.

  Nob waited as Barren’s crew filed into the hallway. They shuffled along, their boots sliding against the fine grain wooden floor. There was an air of awkwardness about them all. They were dirty, none of them had taken a real bath in weeks, yet here they stood in the pristine home of Ambassador Cove Rowell, and oddly enough, no one seemed to care that they were all a little wretched.

  Around them, the very walls were lined with gold and cream. Iron sconces inlaid with shimmery gold and white gems added a warm halo around their shadows. Vivid landscapes surrounded with thick, intricate frames lined the hallway. This was the first time Barren had been in Cove’s home. His other visits had been spent in the pub, Onyx Hall.

  “Oh, it is good you have arrived!” came a voice from behind them. Barren practically jumped out of his skin as he turned to face an old woman with rosy cheeks and a plump figure. She reminded him of Mary McCloud, Alex’s wife, and he found himself feeling guilty that he even dared place his hand on his sword. By the slight tilt of her head, Barren guessed she hadn’t missed it either. “I bet you are all famished. We’ll have a nice little snack and some tea for you in a moment. Follow me.”

  She whipped around and led them through a door across from the staircase.

  This room was just as nice as the hallway they’d entered. A fireplace lay directly before them, and upon the mantel sat a portrait of a man Barren could only assume was Cove’s father, the late Canice Rowell. They had similar features—dark eyes, thin lips, high cheekbones. The only difference was this man had silver-streaked hair. On the day of his death, he had planned to betray the Arcarum pirates, which included brethren, friends, and his own son.