Flintlock (Cutlass Series)

by Ashley Nixon

  “Gladly,” she said, and hurried from Barren, knowing her world was falling apart.

  ***

  Cove moved down the hallway, and directed her into a room. Larkin turned to him, tears streaming down her cheeks as he closed the door behind them. “I cannot do this, hurt him like this!” she dragged her hands over her face, wiping the tears away. “He sees me as a traitor!”

  “Larkin, it’s hard now, but I promise it will get better. For now, we must keep our secret.”

  “Yes, with no consequences to you!”

  “Oh, I will have consequences,” said Cove. “My friendship with Barren will never be the same after this.”

  And yet he showed no pain, no regret.

  “How do you do it?” Larkin asked. “Choose Mariana over your friends?”

  The ambassador’s gaze was unwavering, as if he didn’t understand.

  “Even as a pirate of Silver Crest, your concern is Mariana. You swore to the code, and yet you’re the one willing to defy the Elders and dissolve the Network. You would sacrifice your relationship with Barren. You’ve let the love of your life slip away. All for the greater good of a world that has been so unfair to you. In the end, what will you have? Power? Did your father not die for power? Did your father not die alone?”

  “I think you’ve said enough,” Cove replied, and then he turned and left. Larkin wouldn’t have any friends after this either.

  ***

  Cove stood by the ocean. He’d come out here to think. Since he’d found those five bodies in the ocean, nothing had been the same. He wasn’t so naive as to believe otherwise, but things were going in a direction he wasn’t sure he could return from. Larkin’s words had hit their mark. Tonight he’d realized why she was so infuriating. She told the absolute truth, and while it was hard to hear, she was right.

  He spent his days distancing himself from his emotions, making decisions that benefitted the cause rather than the people. It was the only way he could do his job. This was the burden of Albatross.

  Since his injury the night of the ball, he had not felt the same. He’d kept quiet about the pain, he’d kept quiet about the lethargy, but each night it grew harder to sleep, and when he did, it was harder to wake up. The wound at his side had not yet begun to heal either. The skin had yet to turn red and pink, instead it looked bruised, black and blue, and black veins had begun to branch forth from it. Leaf had requested to look at it, and Cove had refused him. He knew he only had so much time before the Elf got his way. Dr. Newell said he had never known anyone who survived a vacair wound, but Cove wanted to keep that as far from his reality as possible.

  He hoped he could return Sara to Arcarum before the vacair wound claimed his life, but as far as staying, he was not sure he could return to his life as ambassador. His father always said nothing was forever. Perhaps he had been anticipating his betrayal when he’d spoken those words, but Cove had come to find out they were true.

  “Do you always wander off by yourself?”

  He came out of his thoughts and turned to look at Sara. She seemed sad, which made him sad. At least so long as he kept his secret, he could make her smile.

  “Not always,” he said. “I just needed...the quiet.”

  “You have been quiet,” she said. “At least...toward me.”

  He heard himself laugh a little. “What am I supposed to say to you?”

  “If you cannot speak to me now, how am I to think you were ever sincere about anything you told me?”

  He turned fully to look at her. “You don’t honestly think that what you and I...that our friendship was a lie?”

  She shrugged her lithe shoulders. Sometimes he forgot how small she was, how young she was. “I thought we could tell each other anything.”

  He laughed again, but there was no humor.

  “I know you think I’m a child…” He started to interrupt her, but she continued, speaking louder when he tried to stop her. “But I thought I understood our relationship. That no matter how bad things were, we would never lie. The reality is, you didn’t trust me. Don’t you think all of this would have been easier if you’d just told me the truth?”

  “And put you in danger? Absolutely not. Sara, you don’t understand!”

  “You’ve never given me the chance!”

  “People want to kill me, and you, by association. Don’t you understand that? Anyone who stands up next to me is as good as dead.”

  “But I would risk my life to stand up with you,” she said. “Does that make you afraid? Is that why you run away?”

  “Because I love you!” When he realized what he’d said, he paused and took a deep breath. “You cannot forgive the things I have done, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

  She glared at him with those round eyes, and when she spoke, her voice trembled with anger. “How can you tell me you love me now? When it is too late?”

  He hadn’t meant to say it. It had just slipped out. “I should never have said that,” he paused. “I did not mean it.”

  “You’re a liar,” she said.

  He was a liar, but no matter where she was in this world, or who she was with, she was still engaged to Ben Willow.

  “Why’d you say yes?” he asked. “I was coming back for you.”

  “My father didn’t give me a choice. He waited for you just as I waited for you, and he grew impatient.”

  “You could have said no.”

  “And if I had you’d still be leaving and coming back for me,” her smile was sad. “I suppose we do not realize what we’ve lost until it is gone.”

  She turned slowly then and walked back to the shelter. Cove kept his fists clenched tight. The pressure ensured that he did not move from this spot, though everything in his being wanted to run after her.

  They departed Iona early the next morning. Several things fell heavy on Barren’s heart, and he knew his crew felt the same way. There was a lethargic feel about the ship. Perhaps part of it was from being so close to the Octent, knowing that Aryndel would be within their sights soon.

  Finding Aryes in the wreckage with the weapons and learning that the Elves were frequenting this part of the Orient made Barren think the Elves were involved with the vacair. He hadn’t broached the subject with Leaf since Aryes death. Indeed, he was avoiding it. They were going to need more evidence.

  Then there were the Elders, who would exile Barren if they ever got him back to Sanctuary to carry out the order. Until then those who did not support him would hunt him. Further, they’d had the audacity to place a bounty on Larkin’s head. He suspected they wished to return her to Maris to gain favor, but he had no way of verifying this belief.

  Then there was Larkin. He had no ability to really understand her actions. She’d been attacked at the ball and was consequently discovered by Ben Willow, though she had told no one. He also believed she’d visited Willow a second time. He wanted to believe that she would not enter into any sort of contract with Ben, but her silence on the subject made him think otherwise. In any case, they had not spoken since yesterday.

  He’d decided to bring her along into Aryndel. He hadn’t trusted her to stay on the ship anyway, but now he wasn’t so sure he could trust her at all.

  Since Cove had called her away yesterday, she’d hardly left his side. Even now, they stood in each other’s confidence. He thought about interrupting them, calling Cove away for some menial task, but when Larkin’s gaze turned to his, he pushed the thought away. Her features were raw. She was angry, frustrated, sad. She turned back to Cove, leaving Barren alone.

  Leaf approached Barren.

  “Can you hear what they’re saying?” Barren asked Leaf.

  “They are discussing Sara,” said Leaf.

  Barren did not question that.

  “Larkin learned of Eire from Ben Willow,” said Barren. “I can’t imagine how he would know about something so close to me, unless he heard it from Isaac Noble himself.”

  “Why would Isaac chose to relay that sto
ry? It does him no justice,” said Leaf.

  “Isaac would not care what light it cast upon himself. It shows the kind of person I am,” said Barren quietly. “It shows I am a monster.”

  “Larkin does not think you are a monster, Barren.”

  “You did not see the way she looked at me.” She’d been shocked. Clearly she had not expected him to relay such a story. It just showed how much she didn’t know about him and how she’d run if she did know.

  “I see the way she looks at you every day,” said Leaf. “She does not love you any less. But you must be forthright about your past. It’s hard to hear, yes, but harder when you try to keep it a secret.”

  “She keeps her secrets,” said Barren. “Why am I not allowed mine?”

  “You must see what you’ve done,” said Leaf. “Even now she takes confidence with Cove and not you. She’s taking comfort in someone who does not lecture her as if all her decisions are wrong, someone who has shared, no matter how hard, the truths of his circumstances. She’s afraid of your reaction. She’s…”

  “Afraid of me,” Barren finished. “I get it.”

  Leaf stared at Barren, irritation in his eyes.

  “If she was afraid of you, she wouldn’t defy you. She’s waiting for you to trust her.”

  Barren met the Elf’s gaze. “There is no chance of that now.”

  “Was there a chance to begin with?” The Elf’s sea-green eyes were harsh. “You’ve set her up for this. You’ve expected her to betray you. If anything, this is your doing.” Leaf turned from him then.

  Barren had always felt he trusted Larkin, but maybe Leaf was right. Maybe he had set her up for this. But of everyone she might listen to, why Ben Willow? He still didn’t understand what had happened at the ball, but maybe there was more to the story than she was letting on. Maybe Ben had some sort of advantage. Leverage, as Aethea had called it. Perhaps this had been his fault. When his identity was found out at the ball, Aethea might have relayed that information to Ben, who could then identify Larkin. He’d kept sight of her all night. Anyone with eyes would have seen that.

  So when Larkin had left the ballroom, Ben had followed like a hawk waiting for its prey.

  Barren found himself moving below deck, and his feet carried him quickly to the brig. Aethea was already looking up, as if she knew he was coming.

  “What a surprise,” she said. “Has the pirate captain come to visit?”

  Barren regarded her for a moment. Aethea had maintained her arrogance since she’d been captured. It made Barren think she had secrets, some sort of power over them they had not yet realized.

  “You work for the Commonwealth, which means you know Ben Willow,” he said. “So once you discovered I was at the ball, it was probably easy to ascertain who my crew was, you being an assassin.”

  Aethea did not speak.

  “But I can’t understand why Ben Willow, having the chance to take Cove down before everyone, would refuse in favor of attacking Larkin and holding her to his will. Further, I cannot quite grasp how Ben acquired information on a man I once sailed with. He was much like you, a liar and a good killer, and he hated me. His name was Isaac Noble.”

  He watched her to see her reaction, and while she still smiled, she had gone completely still. She knew Isaac Noble, and whatever connection he had to Aethea or Ben Willow would not be good. Barren wanted to know why, after years of hiding, he’d decided to come back.

  Aethea inhaled and then spoke. Her eyes narrowed, and seemed coal-black under the dim light. “Do you really believe Ben is holding Larkin to his will? Really, what sort of power does he have? By now Larkin has experienced true magic and should realize mortals hold no true power.”

  Barren found that comment odd, but it was partly true. Larkin had experienced true magic in the form of the bloodstone. She’d seen mortals vie for its powers, but it wasn’t like they had any of that magic, so they were all just mortals against mortals.

  “Perhaps,” Aethea continued. “She merely does not wish to be a part of this world anymore.”

  Barren set his teeth. She was preying on his fear.

  “I don’t believe that,” he said.

  “Maybe she was sent to betray you from the very beginning. Her father has ensured she was made for battle, and he’s also maintained her position in Maris. You cannot deny these possibilities,” she said.

  If he wasn’t aware of the secrets she’d kept and her correspondences with Ben Willow, he might not have let this bother him, but it did.

  “Though, it will be a pity and awfully damaging for you to confront her, especially if you are wrong,” said Aethea. “You would prove that you mistrust her, and your relationship cannot carry forward without trust, but that’s what you get when you love a proud beauty.”

  Barren glared. “What do you know of this?”

  Aethea laughed. “I know you,” she said, and there was a gleam in her eyes. “Brooding, angry. You’ll never find true peace because you have no wish to be happy. You’re a disaster waiting to happen.”

  “And you think you’re any better?” he said. “An assassin with a history wiped clean, bent on revenge? Someone was not good to you.”

  “You’re right,” she said, lifting her head a little. The light spilled over her features, making her cheekbones seem shallow. Someone was not good to me. My mother was slaughtered, and I was taken and enslaved.”

  “Was Tetherion responsible?”

  “No, he was not.”

  “So why try to kill him?”

  She smiled. “For practice.”

  Barren knew that wasn't completely true. She might have tried to kill Tetherion for practice, but he suspected the king played some role in her agenda. Something about her was completely off and Barren shuddered. He turned from her, disgusted.

  “It is strange you know so little about your world and yet you are the one who tries so desperately to save it.”

  Barren didn't respond, he kept walking.

  “I am curious. Why care at all? The nature of your occupation is to be content to let the world and all its trouble pass you by.”

  Barren turned back. “There will be a time when the troubles won't pass me by. When they hurt those I love. Besides, my father had something to do with all of this. I want to know what.”

  She kept that annoying smirk on her face. Barren wondered what it would take to make it go away. “You might do battle, Barren Reed, but it is still for selfish reasons.”

  He was done listening to her. He’d been told a number of times how selfish he was—by the Elders, by his friends. What would it take to prove them all wrong?

  ***

  When lights blazed on the horizon in a haphazard manner, Barren brought Aethea above deck and removed her bonds.

  “And what about a weapon? You would not leave me unarmed.”

  “I would and I will,” said Barren.

  Slay scoffed. “Listen to ‘er! It was kindness to free you from those shackles, and now yer demandin’ a weapon?”

  Aethea glared, but Barren knew that if she wished it, she’d come by a weapon on her own. He only hoped he could stay one step ahead of her.

  They all changed in anticipation of entering Aryndel. They wore dark clothing and kept their weapons strapped tight. Barren kept an eye on Leaf as they approached the island.

  “Leaf,” Barren caught him before they departed the ship. He’d wanted to say something helpful, something sincere, but the Elf turned to him, and his sea-green eyes were hard and dark.

  “Every life is hard, Barren,” he said. “Stop acting like mine is an exception.”

  When they were close enough to their destination, Aethea, Barren, Larkin, and Leaf approached the island in a dinghy. They unloaded onto a slimy set of wooden steps that jutted out from the ocean and led to a wide cobbled walkway, which narrowed into a street. From there, Aryndel unfolded before them.

  What was beautiful about Aryndel, about the whole of the Octent, was that these islands seemed to cli
ng to the ancient world. Though it was nighttime, the lamplight fell like oil onto the slippery ground. The cobbled way wound through cluttered buildings composed of distinct stones or white plaster and dark beams. The streets themselves were crowded with tents and people selling goods, drinking ale, and living in filth. The smell of alcohol and urine was ever present. Barren had never actually entered the city of Aryndel before, but he’d sailed to one particular landmark, a large bridge that ran over a wide river. It was beyond this bridge that things got rough.

  “Draw up close,” said Leaf. There was an edge to his voice that made Barren’s skin prickle. “Here they will claim you as property.”

  “Women are not property,” Larkin said. “No human can be property.”

  “A human can be property,” said Aethea. “Though that does not make it right, does it?”

  With that, Aethea settled into the space beside Barren, giving him a grin. He looked back at Larkin who had taken the comfort of Leaf’s arm but did not remove her fiery gaze from them.

  With that, they began their journey down the cobbled road. Any other time, Barren would have been perfectly at ease walking among these people. They were people he knew, a lifestyle he’d seen countless times. There were certain times, however, when he felt more Elf than human. In these places, the only thing they would see was the Elfin blood.

  Barren was jolted out of his thoughts. The crowd had become thicker, more rambunctious. Music roared to life, and men, women, and children danced in the streets.

  “Move faster,” said Aethea, and she broke free from Barren and hurried ahead.

  “Hey!” Barren said angrily and he moved rapidly through the crowd. He didn’t have time to look behind him to see if Larkin and Leaf were following because the assassin moved too fast. Her small frame made it easy to dodge people, but Barren was bigger, and his attempt to catch up with her was drawing attention.

  He saw the end of her cloak as she rounded a corner. He almost slipped as he followed, charging after her down the causeway, but he suddenly found that she was nowhere in sight. He halted, and Larkin and Leaf did too.

  “Imagine that, she’s led us astray,” said Larkin. “And quickly, too!”