by Elle Cardy
It was the afternoon of the second day that something else lured her down from the lofts. A feeling of danger in the crisp air pulled her from her reverie. She couldn’t figure out what it could be. The sun was shining, though its heat wasn’t strong, and a few clouds scuttled along the sky in a high wind. There was no sign of an approaching storm. She sniffed the air but could detect no sign of smoke or fire. She surveyed the ship below and everything seemed normal. Something was very wrong. She decided to climb down to investigate. When her feet touched the deck, she rubbed her arms against a chill that prickled along her skin.
A heavy hand landed on her shoulder. She spun around with a raised fist — and faced First Mate Durne. The color drained from her.
“I didn’t know it was you.”
“Good to know you have some reflexes.” It took her a moment to realize he was grinning. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. The captain wants to see you.” Her confusion must have shown because he added, “I believe you have a message for him?”
Jasmine suddenly remembered her errand in Port Lemos so many weeks ago. She had to visit a Madam Bruosh there. The woman had given her a message to give to the captain.
“Oh, aye,” she said in a daze.
“You’ll find him in his quarters. Be sure to knock.” And he glowered at her then went on with his business directing the ship’s activity.
Jasmine had never been in a private meeting with Captain Kahld. She’d never even seen his quarters. She ran a self-conscious hand over her filthy clothes and shrugged. There wasn’t much she could do about her appearance and she didn’t care either.
The captain’s door was an ominous construction. It was made of heavy oak and many hands had polished it to a fine shine. Hanging on it was a large brass knocker cast in the shape of a sea serpent. The serpent’s empty eyes stared at her as if to divine her secrets. Its twisted coils formed the handle. Jasmine reached up and grasped the cold metal. She knocked once.
“Enter!”
The first thing Jasmine noticed was the aroma of spice. The smell of cinnamon and apples floated about the room like a promise of celebration. The second thing she noticed was the space. She’d never seen such spaciousness and opulence. The room was carpeted with the woven rugs of the western islands. They felt soft beneath her bare feet like new spring grass. Paintings and framed maps of coastlands and islands adorned much of the wood-paneled bulkheads, but it was the large windows lining the back that caught her attention. She could see the sea through those ports without having to stoop or peer. It churned in the ship’s wake and left a wide trail of swirled water behind them.
“Did you complete the errand?” The captain’s deep voice startled her. She hadn’t noticed him sitting behind a massive desk in the middle of the room. She had no idea how she could have missed him there. He was a large man — or perhaps that was just in her mind. She knew he was a tall man. He wore his dark hair long and tied back at the nape. Unlike the other seamen, he kept his beard trimmed, which accentuated his angular face. His features reminded her of a craggy coastline battered by a perpetual storm.
Captain Kahld commanded attention. He commanded loyalty. And all he did was ask her a question.
“Aye, sir,” she said, a sense of pride filling her.
The captain nodded but he didn’t seem pleased. Her pride deflated.
“I have a message from Madam Bruosh,” she added.
“Never mind. I can guess what it was.”
Jasmine felt disheartened. She’d made a point to remember the message word for word. She’d promised to give it.
“Very well,” the captain said as if he’d read her thoughts. “What is the message?”
Jasmine stood a little straighter. “She wanted to thank you. She said that she will keep the coins and she told me to tell you: ‘Nice try, but no.’”
The captain nodded. He wasn’t surprised. “And did she tell you anything else?”
“No, sir.”
“Did she at least offer you anything?”
Jasmine felt herself blush. “She offered me a bath and meal.” She couldn’t read his expression. “She told me I could come back for a bath any time I’m in port.”
The captain suddenly burst out laughing as if he’d heard the funniest joke in all of Erenna. His humor soon soured and he seemed to laugh at himself.
At last he shook himself out of his mood and motioned for her to sit in a chair opposite him. She gratefully obeyed and tried not to fidget. She waited while he poured himself a cup of tea from an earthenware pot.
“Tea?” he asked.
She couldn’t hide her surprise. It was a great privilege for the captain to share his tea.
“Aye,” she said in wonder. “Sir.”
The captain poured hot tea into a second cup and she watched the steam rise like a tiny specter. He handed the filled cup to her and toasted the air. He said nothing for the toast and seemed to lose himself in introspection while he drank.
Jasmine sipped at her tea. She had expected a strong black tea or something as bitter, but instead discovered it was chamomile with an extra hint of spice. It instantly soothed her senses. She felt its warmth seep into her limbs and relax her muscles.
Captain Kahld leaned back into his leather seat and propped his booted feet onto his desk. Everything he did seemed calculated. His movements were so graceful she thought they seemed practiced, as if he were putting on a show. This wasn’t a show for entertainment, though. This was something else.
“Do you like being Cook’s apprentice?” he asked with a rehearsed smile.
“No.” She gasped at her honesty. She had no idea what had made her speak to the captain so plainly. Lies came easily. Lies were safer. So why didn’t she lie? The truth only ever got her into trouble. She looked away and studied the sunlight angling in through the square ports. It gamboled about the floor as the ship rolled with the sea.
“If you hadn’t been taken, would you have stayed in Port Lemos?”
“No.” His question surprised her. Was he testing her loyalty?
He took a sip of his tea and seemed to savor its taste before he swallowed it. “Were you treated well aboard the Seahawk?”
“For the most part.” Life aboard the Seahawk was very different to life on the Prize. On the Seahawk she was a full member of the crew who worked just as hard as everyone else. She was treated like everyone else too. She was given a ration of rum every day, she was cared for when she was sick, she earned a few copper, and her father didn’t beat her. Roberts had made things difficult, but that was nothing extraordinary. At least he never got the chance to beat her senseless. Finn was the one who had made her life hellish.
“And which life would you prefer: the Seahawk’s or the Prize’s?”
“The Seahawk’s.” Again with the truth. It just spilled out of her before she could stop it. What was wrong with her? It wasn’t like she wanted to return to the Seahawk. Apart from the impossibility, it was the Prize that spoke to her soul. The Prize was her home. She may not take part in the sailing of the ship, she may not be needed to bend her back to the toil or help furl the sails or anything else that made her a real part of the crew, but the Prize was where she belonged.
The captain watched her. She felt a sudden need to explain herself.
“I love the Prize,” she said. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else in the world.”
“If you had the choice — if it were possible — would you return to the Seahawk?”
“Never.”
“And yet you tell me you don’t want to be Cook’s apprentice.”
“I am grateful you’ve allowed me to stay with my father…” Her words petered out. She wasn’t sure that was the whole truth. The captain stared at her with an intense look in his eyes. It was the first time she noticed that his eyes were the color of a deep green sea.
“Do you like getting beaten?”
Jasmine remained silent. There was no way
of answering this question without making the captain sound stupid for asking.
“Of course you don’t,” he answered for her. “So what keeps you on board?”
His questions were strange. She didn’t know why he asked them or how to answer them. The sunlight had reached a silver statuette of a seahorse on a narrow table against the bulkhead. She shrugged.
“A shrug is not an answer.”
“Because I love the sea and I love this ship.” She could have flattered him with some froth about wanting to stay with the best captain on all the seas. She probably should have. All this honesty couldn’t amount to any good.
The captain did not respond. He seemed to be thinking, but nothing in his expression or posture gave anything away. Sunlight danced behind him. The seahorse glimmered.
After some time between them, Jasmine spoke up.
“Permission to speak freely?” It was a request she’d heard the officers make when addressing the captain.
The captain raised an eyebrow but said nothing for a long while. He stared at her without seeing her.
Jasmine waited until she thought he may not have heard her. She agonized whether or not to repeat the question. Just when she was about to break the silence, the captain spoke. “Permission granted.”
She released a breath. “The wielder,” she began.
A flicker of surprise like lightning out at sea registered in the captain’s expression and then was gone. The reaction made her hesitate.
“Go on,” he said.
“I was wondering what you were planning on doing with him.”
The captain narrowed his eyes. “He is important to you, why?”
There was danger in his tone. She was afraid to look at the captain. She cradled the cup of cooling tea and had an abstract thought the drink might also include a pinch of hibiscus flower in it as well.
“Answer when your captain asks you a question.”
“I—,” she struggled to think up an innocent explanation. “It’s just that wielders make me nervous,” she mumbled.
The captain searched her expression as if he might glean a mystery hidden there. “What do you think we should do with him?”
Jasmine’s eyes widened. “Me? I’m just a cabin boy.”
“Every man, whether young or old, has the power to think for himself. Tell me your thoughts.”
Jasmine squirmed. He waited for an answer.
“He seemed useful on the Seahawk. Perhaps you’d allow him to join the crew?”
“You said yourself wielders make you nervous. There’s a reason for that. They can’t be tamed. I won’t have a member of the crew on board I can’t trust. Neither will I have anyone aboard if they serve as nothing more than a distraction.” His deep green eyes seemed to pierce her like a fly under a pin.
He waited for her to give him another suggestion. “I don’t know. Let him go at the next port?”
“We have a long journey ahead of us. The next port is months away. In the meantime he eats our food and drinks our rum. That hardly seems fair to the rest of the crew who must work for these privileges.”
“Then what will you do?” she asked.
“I will offer him a place with the crew but I don’t believe he will take it.”
Jasmine relaxed at his words. Contrary to the captain’s belief, she was sure Finn would accept the offer. Then she frowned in thought. “And what will you do if he doesn’t accept?”
“Then I will be forced to sell him when we reach our next port of call.”
The captain’s matter-of-fact way of saying those words made the words even more abhorrent. How could he even consider selling another human being? With effort she controlled her expression and hoped she gave none of her thoughts away.
She looked up and a bright spark against the bulkhead dazzled her. She squinted in its direction and realized that sunlight struck what looked like a diamond lying next to the silver statuette. Prisms of light splayed out in all directions and color. The captain turned to see what caught her interest and smiled in understanding.
“It’s a fine rock rescued from the Seahawk. It will fetch a high price. Do you want to hold it?”
She wasn’t that interested in the stone, but, to make the captain happy and to seem like everybody else, she nodded and tried to look enthusiastic. When the captain indicated permission, she left her half-finished cup of tea on the desk and approached the sparkling light.
The diamond sat with a collection of trinkets and treasures all seemingly discarded on the table. She’d never seen such a huge diamond before. She hadn’t even known they could come that big. It felt cold and heavy in her hand and when she held it up to the light it burst with a thousand pinpoints of brilliance. Something else on the table caught her eye. It was a plain ring of worthless metal.
She gasped. It was a treasure of a different kind. It was Finn’s talisman. What was his talisman doing there? Was the captain the one who knew the secrets of the wielders?
“That diamond is worth more gold than you could earn in a lifetime.” The captain seemed bored.
“Amazing,” she murmured.
A knock at the door made her jump.
“Enter!” Kahld commanded in a loud baritone.
The door creaked open and Cook walked in. Her father didn’t cover his surprise at seeing her there, but he did try to cover his hands. He quickly put his meaty fists behind his back. Not before she saw blood on them. She tried not to react, pretending she hadn’t seen anything.
“Leave us, Midge,” the captain commanded.
She put the diamond back in its place among the jumble on the narrow table, murmured a thanks to the captain and dashed away. She closed the captain’s door behind her and leaned up against it to breathe in some much needed air. She looked down at her trembling hands and saw Finn’s talisman lying in her palm. She hadn’t meant to take it but when the knock distracted them, it just happened. She didn’t know what she was thinking. She closed her fist around the cool metal and ran. She didn’t know if she ran to anyone or if she ran away. She just ran.
*
Captain Kahld made Brusan stand and wait. The large man stood patiently and rubbed at his bloodied knuckles. He’d better not drip blood on my carpets, Kahld thought as he sipped at his tea and dreamed of warmer climes.
When he judged he’d made the cook wait long enough, he made a show of putting down his teacup and stood. “Is it done?”
“Aye,” Brusan answered. “He’ll not wield again for a while.”
Kahld smiled. “Good.” The diamond glittered in the sunlight. He wandered over to it and marveled at his added fortune.
“Isn’t that interesting,” he muttered as he looked down at his treasure table and spotted the empty space where the wielder’s talisman used to sit.
“What is, Captain?”
Kahld looked up at the cook. “Our boy is a thief.”
A look of horror swept over Brusan’s expression before he masked it. Brusan didn’t often show emotions, even when Kahld asked him to kill.
“What did Midge take?”
Kahld rubbed his beard. “That’s the interesting thing. Of all the trinkets that could have caught young Jasmine’s eye, she took the ring I asked you to take from the wielder.”
A baffled look came across Brusan. “That was worthless. Why would she take it?”
“Obviously it has some kind of value to her.” Kahld pushed down his annoyance at the cook’s lack of imagination. “Are you sure she wouldn’t help the wielder?”
“Aye, of that I’m certain. I saw the hate in her eyes and the fear when she looked at him. Besides, she’s already betrayed him.”
Kahld continued to stare at the space left by the missing ring. He wished he could be so certain. “I want the ring back.”
Brusan looked confused but he nodded. “Aye, Captain.”
He moved to leave but when he reached the door Kahld called back to him. “And on
e more thing.”
“Aye?” Brusan held the doorknob and only half turned back to him.
“I want her punished.”
There was only a moment of hesitation before he responded. “Aye Captain,” he said to the door and left.
Brusan may not like what Kahld ordered him to do, but at least he would carry out his commands.
Chapter 13
Jasmine expected to return to the heights in the rigging, instead she ran to the fore and embraced the wind as it whistled around her. It was a cold blast against her skin and sent a glorious chill through her body. It stroked her like a caress of ice and turned her cheeks rosy. She clutched the railing with one hand and Finn’s talisman in the other. The sting of numbness burned her fingers and she hoped it might also reach her heart.
What had she done? The captain was an observant man. He would notice the theft. She should return it. She should confess her mistake. Maybe he wouldn’t punish her. Maybe he’d forgive her.
The dull metal glinted in the sunlight. She turned it in her palm and examined the battered ring as if it were made of a material she’d never seen before. There was something about the band she couldn’t let go. It was plain. It was scratched. It was a taint and a curse. Reason told her she should get rid of the thing. She should toss it into the sea and let the waters swallow its power. If the sea claimed it then she’d forever be safe from the beast of her nightmares. Finn would never be able to send her back to the void.
She lifted her arm to throw the ring into the waves. Doubt made her hesitate. The ring was more precious than anyone knew. She couldn’t allow the captain to keep it either. Without knowing what would come of her decision, she slid the metal band onto her left thumb and turned away from the sea.
Of all the places she could have gone, she retreated to the galley. A bucket of onions stood on a counter waiting to be peeled and diced. It was familiar work and she was grateful for the distraction. Despite the fumes burning her eyes, she kept chopping. Salty tears ran down her cheeks and dripped from her chin. She didn’t wipe them away. She cherished them even though they weren’t real.