The House Lost at Sea

by R. J. Blain

  A smile pulled at my lips. I had her trapped at the House Lost at Sea, and I would take it away from her, enjoying the moment when realization struck her. No matter how long she held my island as hers, she would lose in the end. I would end an era and destroy the evidence of the life I’d once led. I would find a way to make stone burn, and the House Lost at Sea would become rubble and another memory.

  I would free myself from the chains of my past, and while still cursed, I would move on.

  The Golden Age of Piracy was long over, and it was time I set sail for new seas and different pursuits.

  “Corona?”

  I grimaced. “I’m woolgathering. I have some things to take care of, so hold down the fort while I’m gone.”

  First, I needed to make a few phone calls, place an order for new boots and bitch over the high cost of a rush order. Then I’d get the supplies I needed to make two outfits, one for me and one for Abrahan. I would use modern methods, modern fabrics, and old styles to create something new. Instead of pirate, I would aim for a more comfortable explorer, a treasure hunter—something kinder than anything I’d done before.

  Later, I would have to thank Lucretta O’Malley for doing what no one else had ever managed to do for me. It was time for me to move on and make a future for myself and Abrahan. Without her, I wouldn’t have taken that final step to casting aside the old and welcoming the new.

  Maybe in time, I would do what I had never done before and transform my curse into a blessing.

  I snorted at my folly, shook my head, and headed for the door.

  While I waited for the insurance company to return my flintlock and cutlass, I transformed myself from the Pirate Princess of the Seven Seas into a modern day treasure seeker. I borrowed the loose-fitted, billowing blouse I favored as a pirate, ditched the corset in favor of a more comfortable sports bra, and wore new jeans that would fade in time but last years as long as I bothered to wash them every rare now and then. The boots, however, were non-negotiable. Leather, up to my knees with folded tops and laced, waterproofed and treated to survive exposure to saltwater.

  Abrahan got a leather fedora. Like my jeans, it would scuff and fade in time. Then, after he finished cooing over his new hat, I indulged in an expensive leather coat for him, one capable of surviving through many adventures, on land or at sea.

  I planned to take him off the beaten path, too. I’d seen the world’s oceans, but I hadn’t delved far onto land, and I meant to change that.

  I really would have to thank Lucretta later; without her meddling, I never would’ve considered expanding my boundaries and hunting trouble for the sake of the excitement and thrill of discovery.

  When I wasn’t sewing or hunting supplies, I watched the weather. The first storm missed my islands, much to my relief. However, a second storm was brewing, and to reach the House Lost at Sea, I would have to sail through it. With a bit of luck, the storm would blow itself out by the time we were on the water, but I doubted we’d dodge the squall. While we had encountered choppy waters on the way to the Cape of Good Hope, Abrahan would get his first taste of truly rough seas.

  The package from the insurance company arrived by courier as promised, and I tore into the packaging to check over my prized possessions. They had been cleaned and cared for, although I found evidence of wax in the inlays confirming someone had made a mold of both pieces. I curled my lip in a silent snarl.

  I had my weapons back, and I’d established my place as their true owner. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice, and if Lucretta tried to take them from me again, I’d shove them both up her ass crosswise. Satisfied, I returned them to their box, taped it closed, and shoved the whole thing in my suitcase. It fit, barely, and I packed the rest of my apparel around it. I left a little note in the suitcase on the box with my address and instructions for return, as well as my permit numbers for international transport and the penalty for confiscation.

  Some things I took seriously, and I wasn’t about to have some uppity airport employee wrecking my prized possessions without being aware there would be consequences headed their direction for illegal handling. I’d paid through the nose for permits to transport the gun and sword.

  Abrahan watched me, his brow creased and frowning. “You’re up to something.”

  “I’m always up to something,” I confessed, zippering my suitcase closed, locking it, and situating the travel tags. “You’re ready to go?”

  “I was ready to go yesterday.”

  “Got your books?”

  “I bought three new ones yesterday while you were cursing your sewing machine.”

  “There will be a test.”

  “They’re sleazy romances.”

  I shot him a look. “Romeo and Juliet or Hamlet?”

  “Romeo and Juliet. Why on Earth would they commit suicide after knowing each other for three days?”

  “Love makes people do stupid shit. It’s a rule of the universe.”

  “I can’t believe you’re making me read this,” Abrahan muttered, waving the book in question at me. “It’s so…”

  “Dated? Ancient?”

  “I was more thinking violent, ridiculous, and kinda cheesy.”

  I laughed. “I’m making you read it because where we come from is just as important as where we’re going, and Shakespeare has a lot of good lessons hidden away in his words. Mostly, don’t do anything in any of his plays, and you might live a long and happy life. His works illustrate just how much times have changed.”

  Of course, I hadn’t learned how to read until after I’d set sail; Captain Louisa had taught me so I could maintain her records. I’d discovered reading for pleasure far later in life, long after my ship had sunk.

  “But wouldn’t books on navigation and sailing be more useful?”

  “We’ll get there. I think we’ll start with some legends and myths before we dig into practical skills.”

  “Legends and myths? Why?”

  Grinning at him, I shoved my suitcase towards the door. “I think I’m due for a leave of piracy—at least of the ship-based sort. I’m tired, and while I’ve sailed every last one of the oceans and swum in all the seas, I haven’t really explored. Sunken treasures, hidden temples in deep jungles—I want to pick a myth and chase it.”

  Abrahan looked at me as though I’d lost my mind. “You can take the pirate out of the sea, but you’ll still be a pirate, Corona. Even I can tell that much. Don’t be crazy.”

  I leveled my best glare at him. “You’ve gotten mouthy, boy.”

  “Just obeying your orders, Captain.”

  “Smart ass.”

  He laughed. “That’s twelve for today.”

  “Grab your bag, you brat. We have a flight to catch.”

  He was right; I’d never stop being a pirate, but I’d at least pretend I could be something else for a little while.

  Thirty

  Time would tell. It always did.

  All good things came to an end, and the weather proved no exception. When we set sail from the Cape of Good Hope, the Wanderer burdened with supplies, I prepared for the storm; I watched the forecast with a wary eye, well aware how a little depression could grow teeth and bite.

  The ocean refused to bend to another’s will. I supposed that was why I’d fallen in love with it in the first place. It persisted despite the floating islands of trash clogging its currents and killing the life that had once teemed beneath the surface.

  I had hoped to avoid the inevitable encounter with man’s mark on the eternal sea, but the floating debris stretched out as far as I could see with the towering columns of storm clouds churning beyond.

  Abrahan gaped, leaning over the rail for a closer look at humanity’s blight. “That’s vile.”

  Yes, vile was the perfect word for what mortals had wrought on the planet we all called home. “Lash the sails and tie everything down; it’s going to be a rough ride.”

  We’d hit the storm at nightfall, and I’d have to rely on my cursed nature to
ride the waves and keep the ship afloat. If the sea and storm won, I’d be challenged keeping Abrahan alive.

  Maybe the ocean remained a constant, but I’d changed. This time, I wouldn’t sit idle and watch the slaughter, helpless to change my crew’s fate. I would defy the ocean as I did every time I set sail, and it would taste the bitterness of defeat.

  Abrahan was mine. While the fear of death remained, for death would come to him as it would for Benny, Bensen, and everyone else I knew, it would not be today, no matter how fierce the storm and monstrous the waves.

  I challenged the weather and sea dressed as a modern-day pirate, my old sword and flintlock hanging from my hip, my boots so new the leather creaked when I walked. In time, they’d mold to the shape of my feet, assuming I didn’t trash them on their debut voyage, a rather real risk. Salt and leather didn’t play nice, even when I’d paid through the nose to protect them.

  Time would tell. It always did.

  “You’re doing it again, Corona.”

  I twitched. What would happen if I marooned my smart ass kid on the mountain of trash? Would it—and he—withstand the storm? Then again, he was exactly what I deserved, and I despaired as much as I rejoiced. He had the right of it, too. I should have been hard at work preparing the engines, setting the lamps, and lashing the few loose items down while he secured the sails before heading into the cabin. Instead, I wondered what I would do once we reached the House Lost at Sea, and how I would deal with Lucretta O’Malley and her crew. “I was strategizing for when we hit that storm.”

  While I spoke the truth, I also lied, and Abrahan snorted, confirming he’d seen right through me. As far as diversions went, I thought it had been a good one. “Are you going to try to sell me beachfront property in the desert next? That’s the dumbest excuse you’ve come up with yet. That little storm doesn’t bother you.”

  “I should make you walk the plank, kid. You could ride it out with the trash.”

  “You wouldn’t do that. You like me too much, and I follow orders. See? This is me following orders, securing the rigging while you wax poetic over heaping mounds of garbage and a few clouds.”

  “You’re going to be eating your words about those few clouds soon,” I warned.

  “I’ll wear my life vest. I do value my life.”

  “That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all day.”

  “So, what has your sharky tail in a kink? The last storm, you eyed the clouds, cackled, and told the weather to bring it on. You’re looking at that junk like you think it’s going to bite you.”

  “Have I told you you’re a smart ass today?”

  “Seven times,” he reported.

  “I’m trying to figure out how I will deal with O’Malley.”

  “That’s easy. Make her your bitch.”

  I sighed, closed my eyes, and prayed for patience. “Why would I do that?”

  “It would be satisfying for you. It would be all the payback you need, and you’d be happy after you conquered her. Then you can suggest she sleep with me, as making me happy would make you happy, and I’m pretty sure sleeping with her would make me very happy.”

  I scowled, but as I kept insisting he think things through, I went through the motions and counted the ways the woman had thwarted me—and how she might be a suitable partner for him if I found her tolerable after getting my revenge. Perspective mattered. Lucretta O’Malley was the product of a long, proud history. It had begun before I’d been born with a scorned woman out for revenge. Grace O’Malley had kickstarted the wheels of fate. Through her son and my captain’s lover, life had continued on until Lucretta’s birth.

  I wouldn’t count her heritage as a black mark against her. Our past shaped our futures, but it didn’t dictate.

  We all made our choices.

  The first mark against Lucretta was her decision to take what was mine believing it belonged to her by the right of her heritage. She had outwitted me, not in intellect, but in her unfailing determination. I could—did—respect that.

  We were a lot alike, although the years had worn away at me until I only clung to a few things and let the rest slide away like a wave retreating over the sands. Grunting an acknowledgment of Abrahan’s point might keep him quiet for a few minutes.

  He went back to work on the rigging with a smug smile.

  “As there will be no unwilling partners in my crew, if you can convince her to romp with you in your bed, you’re certainly old enough to do what you want. I won’t tell you no. That said, I don’t think she’s worthy of your company, and you should have higher standards.”

  “But she’s hot.”

  “She’s also the kind to stab you in the back, she’s probably old enough to be your mother, and you deserve better.”

  “Ew. I didn’t need to think about her being old enough to be my mother.”

  “And thus, your lust dies, a tragedy.”

  “You’re mean,” he complained before giving his tasks his complete attention.

  I ducked into the cabin and pulled out the battery-operated lamp I’d lash to the mast to serve as my main spotlight for wave watching when night fell and the ocean raged. I tested to make certain it still worked, nodding my satisfaction at the bright beam. I coiled rope around my arm, shimmied my way up the mast, and lashed it into place. The battery would last twelve hours once I turned it on, which would get us through the night. I tested the angle to ensure it would illuminate where I’d need it most.

  My cursed inhuman eyes would do the rest of the work.

  The waves rolled, and the Wanderer rocked, riding them with the surety of a far larger vessel. I’d chosen well, and I smiled at the thought.

  I climbed back down, thumping to the deck and dusting myself off, leaning back to recheck my work. Assuming nothing collided with the lamp, it’d hold. Nodding my satisfaction, I busied myself with the engine, going through my checks on autopilot.

  Lucretta’s first true accomplishment was her scheming with Captain Naidoo; had I not been cursed, she would have won her opening gambit, although I still wasn’t sure why she’d targeted me in the first place. I’d make certain to ask her once I finished turning the tables on her. Lucretta’s second accomplishment was in her successful theft of my property, although I’d come out ahead of the game in the guilt factor and the acquisition of a new, better home—upgraded on the dime of her crew, from what I could tell from the construction work done on the foundation.

  Her recruitment of Benny and Bensen counted as her third achievement. I had underestimated them both and had paid for my error. In turn, she had underestimated Naidoo, and had I been human, the final victory would have belonged to him.

  My first victory was my survival, my second was the sinking of her ship, and my third would be my return to the House Lost at Sea, where I would even the scales. But how?

  What could I do that would hit her as close to the heart as I’d been hit?

  Maybe the Black Scourge had taken my beloved captain away from me, but I’d prevented history from repeating itself. When the damned woman’s descendant had tried to pull the same devilish trick, I had reclaimed what was mine. Abrahan still lived. In that, I had already won.

  His loyalty belonged to me. It occurred to me I could do to her as had been done to me, whittling away at Benny and Bensen until their loyalty shifted to me. I had time and patience.

  But then I’d be no better than the Black Scourge. No, I needed something else, something better.

  “So she’s smart,” I growled, startling Abrahan, who yelped and whirled in my direction. “She tried to take what was mine, so by rights, I should try to take what is hers. I just haven’t decided what or how yet.”

  “You already took her ship.”

  “Ships can be replaced.”

  “So, take her crew.”

  “I could, but no. I won’t. I won’t do as was done to me. Not this time.”

  I would escape it all, and perhaps, with time, I’d put Ricardo’s memory to rest.

/>   “What do you want, then?” Abrahan leaned against the rail, tipping his head back to watch me with an arched brow. “If you’re not interested in making her yours, you’re not interested in her crew, you’re not interested in her ship, you have to want something.”

  Perhaps the hardest part was acknowledging what I couldn’t have. “If I could, I would have the Black Scourge feel the despair of watching her world fall apart around her as mine had fallen apart around me, cursed to live forever while she, coward that she was, enjoys the peace of death.”

  “But you won’t do that to Lucretta, will you?”

  “I won’t, however much I’d like to make her regret following in her ancestor’s footsteps.”

  “So, if you can’t make her an enemy, make her an ally instead. That way, you win. Think about it. If that rival captain hated you enough to curse you, having her descendant dancing to your tune would be the ultimate payback. It just proves you’re the better pirate.”

  “And what exactly am I supposed to do with her as an ally? It’s not like I need her or her crew.”

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something. You’re smart like that.” Abrahan shoved away from the rail and headed for the cabin. “I’ll be making sure everything’s tied down as proper while you do whatever it is annoyed pirate queens do when their crew get mouthy.”

  “Smart ass,” I muttered.

  “Eight!” he chirped, waving before he ducked through the doorway to resume his work.

  He gave me a lot to think about. If I didn’t accept her as an enemy, what would she become? A friend?

  I snorted at the thought, shook my head, and prepared the Wanderer for the storm.

  Thirty-One

  I was wrong.

  Storms had a way of taking people by surprise, even the most experienced of sailors.

  I didn’t laugh at Abrahan when the rolling seas got the better of him. At my suggestion, he fled below decks to endure—and avoid—the ocean’s wrath. The bucking of a ship bothered most sane people, but for him, it was the realization of his mortality in the face of waves larger than the Wanderer, which hadn’t been built to withstand the abuse I was putting her through.