by Elle Cardy
“Where’d you think you’re going, sorcerer?”
The name he’d given her was an ancient term for wielders. It carried connotations of evil and seemed to wake the others from their trance.
“You can wield?” Brusan asked in a daze.
“Of course, your boy can wield,” Roberts said and spat in her face. “It’s why he’s been able to go missing for so long.”
“Aye,” Lars said. “And now the boy knows our secret.”
“You can wield?” Brusan repeated.
There was no way out through the door. There was no porthole to escape through. There was no place to hide. Jasmine, trapped, backed into a corner.
“We can’t trust your boy to keep his mouth shut,” Roberts said.
Brusan shook himself. “We can trust him. He won’t say nothing to nobody. Ain’t that right, boy?”
Jasmine studied the men surrounding her. She still struggled with what she had learned. The captain had hired these men to kidnap his own crew. He’d planned to take the Seahawk all along. He just needed the excuse to attack the ship so he wouldn’t be labeled a pirate. Her captain was a pirate. Even Cook had been in on it. Did that make her father a pirate as well? The last vestiges of trust she had in the captain and her father vanished.
“I’ll say nothing,” she said.
Lars laughed. “Look at him. I’d no sooner trust him than I would a wounded bear.”
Roberts narrowed his eyes and pointed his dagger at her. There was no space left to back into and nowhere to go.
“Who would I tell anyways?” she said.
“That’s right. The whole crew is in on it.”
If that were true, they wouldn’t have been hiding out in a storage room. They wouldn’t have been afraid of being discovered.
Peters puffed on his pipe. “The boy doesn’t believe you.”
Roberts held his knife up to her face and turned it around as if to show her how sharp it was. “They may not know the details, but you’re a fool if you think they’d do anything about it. The captain has a loyal crew because he’s so generous with his gold. The Seahawk’s cargo is worth a fortune and every man on board this ship will reap its reward.”
To prove she wasn’t afraid of the knife, she spoke up. “Not that I care, but do you think every man on board will be happy to be involved in piracy?”
Roberts attacked. He pressed her against the bulkhead and pushed the knife up against her neck.
She sucked in a breath. “I’ll not tell! I swear.”
Brusan rushed forward and grabbed Roberts’ knife hand. In their struggle, the knife cut into her neck. It hardly hurt, yet her fingers came away with a thin smear of blood. Brusan roared at the sight of the blood, and slammed a powerful fist into Roberts’ face. Her attacker went down and stayed down. He glared up at Brusan but made no move to fight back. It was as if he were afraid of her father, the cook. Seemed clear to Jasmine, and everyone else, that Brusan was more than a mere cook.
“You’ll not be killing my boy,” Brusan declared. “We’ll let the captain get the truth out of ’im. If he’s lying, Kahld will decide what to do.”
The thought of facing the captain was worse than having to face Roberts. If the captain discovered she was a wielder, then he’d likely do the same to her as he did to Finn. She remembered the fearful desire in his eyes for more power. He fed on it like a vulture. Nothing would satiate his thirst.
“I promise I won’t tell,” she said. This time she was telling the truth. She would stay silent to protect herself. Until she was safe. “You don’t have to take me to the captain. You don’t have to tell him I’m a wielder.”
Lars laughed. “The boy is more afraid of the captain than he is of you, hey, Brusan.”
“Shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you.” Brusan grabbed hold of Jasmine.
Lars’ amusement soured.
Jasmine struggled against Brusan. Ignoring her pleas, her bear of a father dragged her out of the storage room. He pushed her down the narrow passageways and up the steep ladder to the next deck. They entered the mess hall where the crew ate and slept. Hensley sat at a table with two of his mates, Curtin and Feldman. They were playing cards. Four men slept in hammocks.
Jasmine grabbed hold of a post and held on tight.
“Don’t make a scene, boy,” Brusan said.
“I’m not going with you.”
“You have no choice, Midge.” Brusan grabbed hold of Jasmine’s waist and yanked her away from the pole. She screamed and kicked. The men turned to look but they made no move to help.
“Help me!” she pleaded to them. When Hensley rose, Feldman said something to him. He hesitated before he sat down again.
“Sorry, Midge,” he said. “This is between you and your father.”
She tried to catch anything she could with her hands. She tried to kick and twist out of her father’s grasp. Brusan was too strong. When he came to the galley, he seemed to relent and threw her in. He slid the door closed, locking them both inside. In all her time on the Prize that door almost never closed. Hope tried to choke her. He’d taken her to the galley and not the captain.
“What are you doing, Midge?” Brusan demanded in a low voice.
“I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine,” she said in a desperate attempt to bargain.
“And that’s another thing. You can wield?” The large man ran a hand over his face. His skin had flushed with stress.
She didn’t know what to say. She remained on the floor of the galley where she’d landed on her knees. She touched her neck where she could still feel the sting of Roberts’ blade. A smear of blood came away on her fingers. Brusan saw the blood, and fear shadowed his features.
“I tried to protect you,” he said. “You weren’t meant to get involved in all this.”
“I won’t tell,” she said again.
Brusan straightened. “The captain’s a good man. He’ll know what to do.”
“How can you say that? You know he’s nothing more than a pirate. You saw what he did to Finn.”
“You were there?”
She winced at her mistake. “Captain Kahld is a lot of things, but he is not a good man.”
Brusan’s anger returned. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “Don’t you be saying that. He is a good man.”
She reached out to the stove door to steady herself. It was still warm from cooking the pheasant. “What does the captain have on you? Why are you loyal to him?”
Brusan let her go and backed away. “He was the one man who believed in me. He was the man who gave me a second chance when I had used up all my chances.”
His answer surprised her. She thought Brusan had the captain’s gold in his pocket, but she realized true loyalty couldn’t be bought.
“What happened?”
Brusan came out of his reverie and growled. “It doesn’t matter. You lied to me.”
“When did I lie?” She could think of countless times.
“When you didn’t tell me you could wield. You’ve been spying on things none of your business. It’s my duty to take you to the captain.”
“Please, Father,” she said, hoping to pull his strings by calling him the one name she had refused to call him most of her life. “Don’t tell the captain I can wield. He’ll do to me what he did to Finn.”
Brusan hesitated. She could see him thinking. She saw the moment he dismissed the possibility that his captain could harm her. “You have nothing to fear from the captain, child. He is a good and fair man.”
She tried to vanish. Nothing happened. She grabbed hold of the stove door handle and held on as if that might stop her from being swept overboard by a tidal wave. Brusan grunted. He bent, unpeeled her fingers, and lifted her to her feet.
“You’ll be coming with me. You’ll not make a scene. You’ll not fight me. And you’ll behave in the presence of the captain.”
By the time the galley door opened,
her fight had left her. Brusan believed what he said about the captain. There had to be a reason he was so sure the captain wouldn’t hurt her. She had to put her trust in something. There was nothing she could do, but the need to escape screamed through every muscle.
When she emerged with her father, the men in the mess hall looked up. First Mate Durne stood with the men who pretended to play cards at the table. He tried to look casual. Jasmine guessed someone must’ve called him in case things got bad. Everyone knew Brusan beat his son. They all knew he was a big man and could forget his strength. They never interfered with a father’s right to punish his son, but they’d never seen the cabin boy so afraid before.
Durne nodded to Brusan as a way of casual greeting.
“Everything’s under control,” her father said. “I’m taking Midge to the captain. He can decide what to do with the misbehaving boy.”
Durne glanced once at Jasmine. His gaze didn’t linger. She supposed the fact that she had no new bruises on her face was a good enough sign for him. He didn’t notice the thin cut on her neck. He nodded and allowed Brusan to proceed. Jasmine felt heartened that at least the look of concern didn’t leave his expression.
She had to hope that Brusan was right about the captain.
Chapter 16
Jasmine stood before the captain in his quarters. The storm had long passed and the late afternoon sun broke through the parting clouds. Amber sunlight angled in through the wide ports and stroked the patterned carpets in a slow rhythm to the rock of the ship. A warm glow filled the room and should’ve heartened her. Instead the light made her feel exposed. Even the smell of cinnamon that suffused the air didn’t entice her. If she could have run, she would have. She stood still with her hands clasped behind her back. And waited.
The captain glanced up from the litter of maps and charts on his desk. He had the look of a man interrupted. Covering one of his maps with a book, he didn’t bother to hide his irritation at the intrusion. Brusan shifted from one foot to the other next to Jasmine.
“Sorry to bother you, Captain,” Brusan said, breaking the silence, “but a point in question needs your scrutiny.”
The captain turned his gaze on Jasmine and raised an eyebrow. Jasmine returned his stare. He looked away first and indicated to Brusan the only available chair. The large man sat down on its edge as if he didn’t want to get too comfortable, or perhaps he didn’t expect this meeting to take long. Jasmine glanced at the door behind her. Brusan glared at her in warning.
“What is so dire that you should disturb me in my quarters?”
Brusan wiped his hands on his apron and cleared his throat. “Midge overheard a conversation between me and the boys.”
Daring to feel a thrill of hope race through her, Jasmine tried to keep her expression blank. Her father didn’t tell the captain she was a wielder. Maybe he’d decided to keep her secret.
The captain’s gaze slid back to her. The golden light in the room filled his eyes with a vibrant luminosity that frightened her. They seemed like two gems that harbored a heart that was just as cold and unyielding.
“What exactly did you overhear, Midge?”
Jasmine swallowed. She played with her fingers behind her back.
“Answer the captain.” Brusan had tried to use a reassuring tone with her. It didn’t work.
“I discovered that the three prisoners from the Seahawk aren’t prisoners,” she said quietly, reluctantly.
“If not prisoners, then what?” the captain asked as if his curiosity were piqued.
The tension in the air soured the smell of cinnamon to a sickly taint. “I heard that they are in your employ.”
The captain didn’t react as she thought he might. He made no denials and showed no shock. No emotion betrayed him. It was as if they conversed over scones, except that the tension remained. “And what does that mean to you, Midge?”
She hesitated. She thought about lying. She could say it meant nothing to her except that it seemed strange. It would give him an opportunity to lie in return and then she could make him believe she didn’t care either way. She could then apologize and promise never to listen to other people’s conversations again.
“It means you’re a pirate,” she said and gasped.
The captain smiled. “You think I hired those men to help capture the Seahawk for me?”
Say no, she thought. “Yes.” She began to sweat.
The captain arched his fingers into a steeple in front of him and pursed his lips together. It made his already angular face look sharp and dangerous. “Accusing someone of piracy is a serious affair. Perhaps you misheard?”
“No.”
His eyes widened in a practiced show of friendliness. “How can you be so sure? How did you come by this overheard conversation?”
Jasmine dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands. She had to lie. “I came to the galley looking for food and found Brusan cooking three special meals. I was curious so I followed my father to the storage room where the three prisoners were kept.”
The captain nodded in understanding. “So you listened through the door? You couldn’t possibly have heard their voices clearly enough to—”
“No,” she said, so compelled to speak the truth that she interrupted him. The captain had to be wielding. It was the only thing that could stop her from lying.
“Then what did you do?” He was growing impatient.
“I entered the room.” It took all her concentration to speak only half the truth.
Brusan shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“And no one noticed you enter that small storage room?”
“Aye.”
“They carried on their conversation as if you weren’t there?”
“Aye.”
The captain’s eyes narrowed. He turned his gaze to Brusan. Her father sat straighter in his seat as if to brace himself against a storm. He coughed to clear his throat.
“Captain,” Brusan began hesitantly, “it seems Midge can wield.”
Jasmine would have liked very much to have fainted at that moment. There seemed no other escape. She had never felt more exposed in her life.
She didn’t hate her father for telling the captain the truth. He was probably as compelled as she had been. He had at least tried, and so she could forgive him. But what would the captain do with this information? Would he lock her into a cramped room and beat the powers out of her until he owned them all? Would he try to use her as he used Brusan? When he was done with her, would he then kill her as he intended to kill Finn?
The captain’s only reaction was a brief flash deep within his green eyes. He didn’t look at Jasmine. He stared at Brusan for an eternity. He sat stone still as if movement might bring everything crashing down on them. Jasmine held her breath.
“Leave us, Brusan,” the captain said in a low voice.
“Captain?” Her father had promised her everything would be all right. She didn’t think it was a promise he could fulfill. “I’d like to stay, if that’s allowed.”
“Leave. Us.” He emphasized the two words as if they were nails he hammered into a coffin. The hard edge in his voice carried a command that could not be defied.
“Aye, Captain.” Brusan rose. He glanced at Jasmine and tried to apologize to her in that single look. She watched him shuffle to the door. She wanted to follow him. Neither he nor the captain would let her.
When the door clicked closed, she turned back to the captain. He was staring at her in a way that made her want to hide. Something brewed inside him. She didn’t think he’d offer her tea this time.
The captain stood. With a measured pace, he walked around his desk as if he approached a sleeping beast. He stopped in front of her and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is what Cook says, true? Are you a wielder?”
The room felt small and stuffy. She knew she should lie. She knew she should flee. She could do neither.
“Aye, sir.”
&
nbsp; Danger burned in Captain Kahld’s eyes. “You’re lying.”
“I wish I were.”
The force of the captain’s power suddenly enveloped her. “This cannot be possible,” he spat. “You cannot be a wielder.” He gripped her shirt in a tight fist and glared at her if she were some sort of filthy beast. “Tell me the truth.”
Power surged through her. It was his power. His strength. His anger. She couldn’t resist him.
“I am a wielder. I am untrained. I have no talisman.” The words spilled from her. Every truth she’d hidden burst from her lips and betrayed her to the man she most feared.
“This cannot be. Tell me the truth!” Kahld’s grip tightened. He wanted to shake her like a ragdoll to force the truth from her like coins from a pocket. His power seared through her. She cried against its torrent. She couldn’t confess anything but the truth.
“I am a wielder,” she cried in agony. “I am untrained.” Tears burned her eyes and blurred her vision. “I have no talisman.”
The captain threw her to the floor and backed away as if he feared her. She curled into a ball on the soft carpet and sobbed dry-eyed into the wool.
“Do you know what this means?” Kahld asked.
Something horrible. Something terrifying. Something inevitable.
She shook her head.
“You have no place in this world.”
She denied him. Her place was at sea. Her place was on the Wielder’s Prize.
“You are forbidden.”
Her sobbing stopped. Fear replaced her anguish. “I can control myself. I’m not a danger.”
“I don’t care if you are untrained or if you have no talisman. You are a wielder who was born to another wielder.” He knelt beside her and lifted her chin to get a better look at her face. “These creatures cannot exist. You cannot exist.”
What was so terrible about a wielder with a wielder parent? And who did he mean? “Is Cook a wielder…or my mother?”
Kahld’s craggy face darkened. He let her chin drop and stood. He looked down at her like a giant about to crush an ant. “No, you fool. Brusan is not your father. I am. Why do you think I’ve tolerated your presence on board for so many years?”