And I am. I haven't been eaten by anything or thrown overboard, so I suppose, yes I am okay.
Rumi continues making his way around the crew, those who come to reach for weapons, and the atmosphere becomes seasoned with the sound of guns popping and sirens screeching. The scent of gunpowder assaults my senses. All I can do is stare.
My feet drag against the ship as I make my way to the siren who lays still in a puddle of its own blood. Its gaze stares off into eternity. Fine strands of blonde hair hang in patches from the ashy skin on the animal's scalp. A few pieces hang over its forehead, their ends staining.
I’d been so wrong about everything I’d spent the last five years of my life trying to debunk. Now there is an entirely new world brimming with good, evil, and all the things in-between for me to learn.
“Captain!” Jac shouts across the ship, earning herself a moment of his attention.
Rumi turns her direction in time to catch the long barreled gun she slings in his direction. Several other guns are slung behind her and she races to put them into the hands of the crew. Her teeth grit together making her jaw look more prominent.
The siren’s song still sings around us, threatening to pull us into its grip once again. Each angelic note is answered by the crack, pop, boom as triggers are pulled. My body flinches at the noise but I can’t look away. I can’t un-see the creature at my feet.
Both the scent and taste of gunpowder is heavy all around us. Shrieks of pain threaten to bust my eardrums as siren after siren falls from the sky. Their bodies topple into the sea. I tear my gaze away long enough to watch a siren crumple in on itself, its wings struggling to keep it aloft before its torso crashes against the railing of the ship. With one dirty boot, a crew member shoves the creature into the waves.
Their song finally comes to an end.
There’s a pounding in my chest as I watch the rest of the crew members trying to calm the panic they'd been in moments ago. Many of them watch the dark bloodstained water, their breath still pillaging their chests, and their guns held in white-knuckled grips. How often are they subjected to this? As part of Rumi’s crew, how often will my life be put in danger too?
Questions come to mind quickly in response to the human need for me to protect myself, to survive, but while I stand there I start to notice the enchanting way my heart beats. The way I stand tall, my eyes searching for what comes next. I notice how I’ve started to anticipate something crazy, something new, something thrilling.
I notice the uptick of a smile on my lips.
Being on this ship might be dangerous and my life might be at risk, but I've never felt more truly alive. I'm here. I'm in the now. Not thinking about my dreaded future. I am…excited for the next five years. If anything, I know I'll dread what is to come after. I've loved every minute of being on Rumi’s ship even when I was scared, even when I told myself I shouldn't have come here, even when I saw what Rumi is.
Some sort of a laugh works its way up my throat. The bubble of joy—or something like it—is burst at the sound of Rumi calling my name. The wind catches my skirt and as my attention drifts past the dark captain, and the smile falls.
The edges of the cliffs come into view.
But so do the remains of the shipwreck.
17
After The Deal
Rumi
The splintered pieces of wood, the fraying bits of rope and tattered sails are the nightmare of every captain. My eyes scan the wreckage for bodies; nothing remains but the pieces of the ship and the scattered cargo.
For a moment—for the smallest second—Millie had grinned. It made me wonder what she was thinking about. Really, it made me question her sanity. I hadn’t meant to say her name so quickly when I saw the wreckage, not when I knew it would make her smile go away. But her name had slipped off my lips nonetheless. Now her hands shake as she grabs the railing, leaning herself over and staring down at the torn boat.
The name of the ship remains intact. Homestead.
She lets out a shuddering breath. The way color leeches from her skin makes my heart feel as though someone has slipped a dagger into my chest. Every breath I take aches as I watch her.
"That's his ship," she says. Her voice is fragile and I can see the beginning of tears gathering in her eyes.
"He's not dead.” I remind her. "He's somewhere nearby. Let’s look at the map."
She doesn't move, as if she can't pull herself away from the horror of what we found. I settle my hands on her arms, her skin surprisingly cold as I steer her back down to my room. My captain’s quarters still smells like sex. The bedsheets are a rumpled mess, and the towel I used to clean her up is bunched up near the wall.
The stardust still sits in its leather pouch on my desk. I leave Millie standing near the table as I retrieve it. Leather groans as I pull open the strings and offer it to her. Her slender fingers slip into the opening of fabric, grabbing a pinch and sprinkling it across the surface of the worn table.
Sparkling specks float into place, creating an image of the cliffs that surround us. A large flare shines brightly in the recess of a cave somewhere very high up.
I have so many powers, the ability to do many things, but one thing I can't do is fly. So we will have to climb.
Together we stare down at the map, silence eating up everything that should be said between us. Millie still trembles next to me. Carefully, I edge closer to her until our arms are touching...until the tips of my fingers brush against hers while I stare down at the map trying to memorize the safest route. She inhales sharply and the beating of her heart steadies, but she doesn’t take my hand.
"I'll take some of the crewmembers and I'll head up the cliff to get your brother. The sirens have him." My hand meets the smooth wood of the stairwell as I push myself, bouncing off the walls, boots pounding up the stairs.
"Lower the anchors!" I shout to no one in particular.
The men nearest me almost make it by me until I stop them with a point of my finger. "I need you to gather as many weapons as you can find and prepare yourself to climb."
Behind them, Jac is already throwing an extra sword on her belt and she straps daggers across her chest. I watch as she tears off the bottom of her shirt, wadding up the slightest bit of fabric, and pushes it into her ears. When she looks at me she smiles. "Well, obviously I'm coming with."
“We used most of our ammo in that attack” I warn her. That only makes her grin more.
“Take me with you too." Millicent's voice comes from behind me.
My stomach drops. I press my eyes closed tightly, hoping that when I turn around and open them she won't be there and this is all a figment of my imagination. With a sigh, I spin on my heel. "What are you doing?" she says.
Oh, fuck. I open my eyes and there she is with her mind made up and a sword patting against her leg. A brown leather belt is strapped over her hips, tightened as far as it will go, and it still hangs a little loose, but it reminds me of how perfect her body is underneath.
"It's dangerous." I scowl at her weapon.
"So is being with you." She quickly adds, "I have a sword," and points to the blade with a hint of a smile.
"First of all," I sigh, "you do not know the first thing about using that, thus rendering it useless. Secondly, where did you get that?"
"Jac gave it to me."
I narrow my gaze at Jac who whistles to herself, suddenly finding herself busy with the lint on her shoulder. "You are property that I do not want to lose."
"I am an asset that you do not gain until you find my brother."
She rests her hand on the hilt of the sword, ever the brave little pirate, offense shining in that determined gaze. The fierceness of the fire behind her eyes though, the anger that threatens to come through should I deny her this... it almost does the job.
I grind my teeth pointing my finger at the damn belt. “Absolutely not.”
“I’ll follow even if you tell me not to.”
“Maybe I’ll have you thrown in
the brigs.”
“I’d like to see you try.” She takes a small step closer.
My lips curl in an ugly snarl as I point at her sword. "Take that thing off before you hurt yourself."
"Why? It's such a nice fashion statement. Don't you think?"
"You can't climb in a dress."
"You seriously underestimate me."
"I don't have the time to argue with you. We don't have that sort of time." If the sirens have Boston, and there is no way they do not, then the fact that he's still alive is a miracle.
"Just admit that you like arguing with me and maybe I’ll consider staying here." She holds up her fingers, letting her pointer finger and her thumb hover just an inch apart. "You like it. Just a little bit."
"I think you have that twisted. Do you enjoy arguing with me?"
"I'm beginning to."
I balk at her statement, drawing a small smile out of her that warms my chest in return. When I regain my composure after a second, I answer her. "You’ll come no matter what, won’t you?” She nods. “Fine, come, but I can't allow you to bring the sword. I'm sorry. If you fall and impale yourself somehow..."
"Ye of little faith." Millie rolls her eyes and somehow that little tick does the same thing to me as her smiling. She fusses with the belt, letting it slide from her body and onto the deck. "Happy?"
"Ecstatic."
This time when I look past Millie to Jac, she's staring at the two of us. She looks content to watch us, her own personal entertainment. I cock my head, my brows rising. Jac blinks rapidly, realizing exactly what she'd been caught doing, and pats her weapons, counting them for likely the billionth time.
"Get the other two." I shake my head at her, both disapproving of her meddling and thankful for it. "Let's climb this mountain and I don’t want to see Millie out of your reach even for the slightest second."
***
The climb looks much steeper when you're at the bottom of the mountain than it had when we'd been on the ship. Souleater drifts not far away shrouded in my darkness. Most of the crew has hidden under the deck, hunkering down in their quarters.
I would call them cowards if I didn't know myself exactly how wise it is for them to hide. Which makes the five of us charging up toward the nest of sirens...what exactly? Idiots? It sure feels that way now.
My body is heavy with the extra weapons I've strapped to myself. Not entirely for myself, but I have them at the ready to toss to the people that are with me should they need them. To share with Boston, if he's even capable of holding a blade in the state we're sure to find him in.
For Millie’s sake, I hope he's okay.
Loose pebbles rain down on the two men climbing under me, as I force myself up. My forearms burn from holding my weight. It's not much longer before the climb isn't strictly vertical though. Where Millie and Jac are, the slope lessens and we'll be able to stand upright for a while. Millie pulls at her dress, the material constantly getting stuck between her legs or under her boots, making it hard for her to climb. I've bitten my tongue nearly three times already to keep myself from shouting, 'I told you so' up to her. That would only create another argument.
An argument that doesn't really feel like an argument...she picks at me. I pick at her. And in the end, all I want to do is kiss her breathless again. I want to teach her all the different ways I've learned to make a girl reach orgasm.
"You're looking a little shadowy down there, Rumi," Jac says.
I snort but don't reply otherwise. Both Jac and Millie continue to climb above me while I try not to look down. At this height, a fall would break these fragile human bones. Even if my magic can piece me back together or slow the fall it would still hurt like a bitch.
Every so often though Millie glances at me, then past me to the rocky shore. Each time I expect to see fear in her gaze, or panic because of the height. Instead, she stares as if she is measuring the distance we have claimed using it as fuel to charge her forward.
We carry on like this, only communicating in grunts and groans as we scale the mountain for quite some time. The sirens are no longer flying in the sky. They guard their nest, I say to myself. Not far above me, the lip of a cave waits, where the bright light of Boston had shown on the map.
We’d shot down many of the sirens, but I don’t doubt that the females remain in that cave. They won’t come out for us though. They’ll wait for us to come to them, tired from the climb. Smart creatures.
Before Jac reaches out to take a hold of the edge of the final rock, she looks down at me for confirmation. I nod once and she pulls herself up, propping her elbows on the edge then dragging her body over. I climb after her, listening for signs of struggle or a deadly song. There's nothing, just the sound of my heavy breath and boots scraping against rock.
Millie reaches the edge of the cave. She doesn't look down at me for permission, she merely grabs the edge, takes Jac’s extended hand, and hoists herself up. Her body goes still on the edge of the mountain, Jac’s hand finds the small of Millie's back, holding her in place when she stands not allowing her to back off and fall from the cliff. What does she see? Boston? Sirens? Nothing?
My shoes slip against the rock but I quickly correct myself, clinging to the edge of the mountain. By the time I make it to the edge, Millie's already started forward into the mouth of the cave.
For a second, I have to focus on calming the rapid beating of my heart. I know where this is going. I’ve seen what’s going to happen. And I have to find another way.
Nests made of twigs, leaves, and many other fibers—some of which I can only describe as human hair—dot the entirety of the cave with no pattern or order. Bones are scattered in the shade. Some individual pieces, some still part of a full skeleton laid out as it had been in death. I can feel how many people have died here. The cliff hums with the power of the lives that were taken going back centuries before I even took up this title.
Sirens with their scaly wings tucked at their backs huddle in the shadows. A number of them hover around the body of a boy. I can only barely make out the details of his face. Dark hair thrown across his cheeks, long lashes curling against the dotted freckles. His long lanky body is limp. He's not dead but he's not far from it.
“Boston?” Millie says, her voice echoing off the walls.
Her brother twitches and his eyes flutter as if they might open. The sirens watch it all. Some of them crouch or perch, but all of them move with the same stiff twitchiness as a bird. Their heads cock, evaluating and listening. Everything is still so I throw myself up over the ledge and stand. I wait for the sirens’ song. I wait for them to call to us, convince us they can rid us of our debts; I wait to toss my magic back out and shield them as much as I can.
It's not the sirens that move first but the fearless girl at my side. Millie throws herself forward into the cave, starting straight for her brother. The closest siren snaps her teeth at Millie and she barely avoids it.
"Millie! Don't—” I start to warn but it's already too late, the creature takes flight with a deafening snarl that's not nearly as beautiful as their song. Its claws sink into her shoulders, blood instantly blooming against her pale skin. She cries out, her feet kicking out underneath her as if she can still outrun it while it lifts her up off the ground. My shadows are already reaching, stretching towards the beast, but it takes flight starting out of the mouth of the cave over our heads.
And when there's nothing but rock underneath them it lets go. The sound that comes from Millie is the sound of someone who is finally afraid.
That’s when I know the vision is going to come true and there is nothing I can do about it.
18
After The Deal
Rumi
Death has a way of being present even when we try our hardest to defy it. Even I can’t do anything to keep it at bay. I should have fought harder. I should have demanded she stay on the ship.
Millie falls. I feel her death before it arrives; I feel the loss inside my very bones. Her resou
nding scream replaying inside my head a thousand times over. My heart ceases to beat in my chest, my skin goes clammy, and white hot panic erupts in the pit of my stomach burning all the way up my throat.
I'm moving, I'm not thinking.
Behind me the other sirens are stirring more frantically now, their sharp talons scraping loud against rock. The men behind me and Jac are already working to fight them off. My boots pound against the rock until there's nothing under me. Jac calls my name, a moment too late, and I launch myself off the cliff.
I’m dropping down…
Down….
Down...
I’m weightless but still, I’m plummeting toward a rocky peak. My shadows stretch out from every bit of shade the cliffs can offer, grabbing at me, slowing my fall. They gather under me. Either by the grace of those shadows or by the power thrumming through my body when I land rocks shatter and splinter under me. The force of the impact resonates in an ache inside of my bones.
I still haven't taken a breath. And I can't think about anything. I don't want to think anything for fear that I’ll completely shatter.
Millie’s face is frozen in one last expression of pain. Cherry red lips and sweat matted hair; she could be painted as a tragedy. Her limbs are bent at all angles, a leg with shattered bone protruding from the skin is halfway tucked under her torso. And there's blood. So much blood.
A puddle of Crimson spills out all around her, outlining her broken body. Her dark hair sticks to the ground around her.
My hands tremble when I take a step closer to her. Her body glows, her soul reaching toward mine to pass to the other world.
"No," I whisper, the one word shaky between us. My one quiet demand.
I failed. I failed her. I failed myself. I promised her safety, I promised her her brother, and now she's a shattered nothing before me. She's a ghost of the girl I want the most. My legs quiver, my knees threatening to buckle under me as I step closer to her.
The pure white light of her soul comes and tries to lift itself from her body, tries to pass through me. I can feel the door to the other world opening inside of me and I force it shut.
Chasing Boston Page 14