by R. J. Blain
Waves broke over the ship, flooding the deck and draining out the stern. The wind hissed its impotent fury over my defiance, and I laughed at the sting of the salt on my face and the crash of thunder as lightning split the heavens. Each white-capped crest could be our last, but my ship faced them down with indomitable spirit. She creaked beneath my feet, cutting into the rifts between the waves for her wake to be devoured by the hungering waters.
No matter how badly humans wrecked her, the ocean persisted. Each lurch of the deck beneath my feet reminded me, the howl of the gale called me home, and in the moments the Wanderer launched over the crests and took flight, the rest of the world dropped away into an abyss, lost to the first true love of my life.
The sea had taught me what it was to truly love something unobtainable, and it had cursed me as much as the Black Scourge had. We fought, and often, but I always returned and always would.
Soaked to the skin and chilled by wind and wave, I found the answer to my dilemma, a purpose for Captain Lucretta O’Malley and her crew, and a goal I could chase without regret. First, I would set Abrahan on the path to a fulfilling life, with or without me.
Then I would use her as she’d tried to use me. I wouldn’t take wealth, fame, or power. No, I’d recruit her, swearing to haunt her line until its extinction, unless she helped break what her ancestor had inflicted upon me. It was simple, it was obvious, but it was perfect.
My freedom for hers was an equivalent exchange. It would absolve me of guilt and put an end to the endless cycle. Maybe it would work, maybe it wouldn’t, but she was the one thing I hadn’t yet tried: a direct descendant of the one who’d turned her love for my captain into my living nightmare, one without an end in sight.
It had occurred to me to hunt down a descendant of the Black Scourge, but she hadn’t been someone I ever thought would have children of her own. I’d reasoned away the possibility, and worse, I’d made assumptions—wrong ones. I’d thought the Black Scourge would have shared one thing with me, loyalty to the woman we had both loved, albeit in different ways.
On the other side of the storm, I would acknowledge my mistake, learn from it, and see what new waters waited for me. Turning an enemy into an ally was the one thing I hadn’t tried, and the excitement prickling beneath my skin wasn’t just from the storm’s charge in the air, the adrenaline of denying the ocean its chance to claim another soul, and my love of challenging the weather and tides.
I sailed through the night, and the thundering storm tattered and broke apart in the dawn light. It took several hours for the waves to settle, and when they did, leaving the sea glassy and still, I checked our location and charted our course for the House Lost at Sea. After a fond pat of the Wanderer’s mast, I peeked into the cabin.
Another time, I would ask Abrahan why he’d thought climbing under the table was a good idea. He wore his red and yellow life vest and clung to a table leg. Leaning over, I braced my hands on my knees and arched a brow. “Comfortable?”
“Very.”
“The storm’s over. You can come out.” I straightened, taking a closer look at the pantry and our bunks. He’d done a good job securing everything, and while some cans and sacks had gotten tossed around, nothing had spilled. “You did a good job in here. I’ve corrected our course, and it should be clear sailing for the rest of the trip. I need to do a once over of the ship and check the keel, so you’re on duty for a while.”
“Are we leaking?”
“I really doubt it. She’s not listing, and she feels normal.”
“You’re really sure the storm’s gone?”
I grinned and leaned over to meet his gaze again. “And here I thought you weren’t worried because it was a tiny little storm.”
“I was wrong.”
“You’ll get used to it, don’t worry. The first ride is always rough, but next time, I’ll have you out on deck.”
“You look like a drowned rat.”
“It was a bit wet out there. Come on out, kid. The water’s calm. I had an idea.”
Abrahan scowled, his eyes narrowing from suspicion. “What sort of idea?”
“I think I have a use for Lucretta O’Malley.”
“Are you seriously telling me you were on deck during the storm thinking about her?” Crawling out from beneath the table, he peeled off his life vest, hung it up, and shot several glares at me before peeking out the door. “How could you?”
People reacted to fear in different ways, and Abrahan’s flabbergasted accusation amused me. “What else was I supposed to be doing?”
“You could have sunk the ship!”
In time, he’d grow to become as insane as I was, and I looked forward to it. Until then, I would enjoy his discomfort and prod him along until he conquered his apprehension over the sea at her worst. “I didn’t, did I?”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess that’s true.” The realization seemed to startle him, and he took a second look outside. “It’s so calm. Are you sure we’re not dead and this is heaven?”
I laughed, headed to the railing, and leaned over to point at a few wayward pieces of plastic floating in the water. “Heaven’s pretty polluted.”
Joining me, Abrahan peered over the railing. “It really is. That’s sad.”
“I remember the ocean when plastics didn’t exist, the waters were clear, and life teemed beneath the surface. The reefs were brilliant, colored, and marvels to behold, and the water was clear—so clear you could see to the heart of the world in places. Anyway, I have the perfect use for her.”
“What?”
“I’ll make it her responsibility to break my curse. If the history of the past is so important to her, then I will remind her that it is thus her duty to undo what her ancestor did to me. It’s fair.”
“But what will happen to you?”
It was the nature of humans—and even myself at times—to worry about what the future held. “I expect I’ll die. How I’ll die, I don’t know. Maybe the years will catch up to me in an instant, or maybe I’ll begin to age like a mortal should. Until the curse is broken, there’s no way to know.”
“Have you aged at all since you were cursed?”
“No. I always revert to how I was the day the Black Scourge cursed me. Even my hair regrows to the same length, and I carry the scars of my youth.”
“It’s like you’re frozen in time, then?”
Yes, that was a good way to think of it. I was frozen, trapped in a body that should have long since withered away. “That sounds right to me.”
“So maybe you’ll keep living after the curse is broken.”
Understanding struck hard. People like Abrahan, young but no stranger to death, feared what I didn’t—my death. I crossed my arms over the railing and stared out over the glassy water. There was only one thing I could give him with any certainty, a promise I’d likely regret in the future. “I’ll be careful should we find a way to break the curse. I’m rather looking forward to dragging you to every dark, shadowy corner of the Earth before I hang up my hat.”
“I can live with that.”
So could I, and with a nod, I returned to my work, leaving Abrahan to stare over the ocean with a thoughtful expression on his face. My inspection of the keel could wait until Abrahan found his feet again and wasn’t quite so engaged with the reality of mortality.
A few more years for his peace of mind was a small price for me to pay.
Thirty-Two
I didn’t think that through all the way.
The House Lost at Sea was as I remembered, perched on its cliff as proud as the sea it overlooked. Another storm was brewing in the distance, and I expected it would wash over the islands within a few hours, churning the waters and ensuring no one was going anywhere, not if they valued their lives.
I valued Abrahan’s life far more than my own, so I eased the Wanderer into my cove, anchored her, and left her in the safety of the natural harbor no storm had hope of destroying. Instead of swimming, we’d take the pair of canoes Abrahan
had cleverly ordered for our voyage. I burdened one with supplies, anchored a rope to it, and dove into the water so I could do my fair share of the work and tow it to the main island.
What would be the best approach for dealing with Lucretta O’Malley? I’d handled many a parley, browbeating superstitious men while my captain watched with smug bemusement as I turned their lives upside down on her behalf. Despite belief, parleys hadn’t always been peaceful, especially when superstitious men thought they could take what they wanted. Time and time again, I’d waited for them to make the first move and break the code, which gave me the excuse I needed to wipe the deck with their unconscious bodies. More often than not, I battered three or four men at one time until the other side learned my captain was to be feared and respected.
Back then, people had an easier time accepting a woman could become a shark, as superstitions were one short step from the belief in magic. As for Lucretta and her crew, I’d already planted the seeds of belief in my survival, I’d reclaimed some of my pride in the burning of their ship, and I would win the war with words instead of violence.
I glided through the waters, pulling my canoe while Abrahan paddled behind me. Sane men wouldn’t have left the safety of the cove, but I supposed I’d numbed him to the dangers of the shoreline after our rather violent voyage. I’d have to work on that; respect for the ocean was equally as important as courage.
Lucretta O’Malley stood on the shore near the charred ruins of her ship, and Abrahan slid his canoe onto the sand, splashed into the water, and retrieved the rope from my mouth, dragging the supplies closer so they wouldn’t return to sea on a rogue wave. “O’Malley,” he greeted, and his wary regard and obvious dislike in his tone amused me.
“Have you come to parley, then?”
“I haven’t. She has.” Abrahan pointed at me without turning his attention from the rival captain.
Later, I would reward him well for his wisdom. A gun of his own, a sword he could be proud of, and the parrot he desired would be the first signs of my favor—assuming he demonstrated he could take care of the long-lived bird. I slipped into deeper waters so I could gain speed for my leap to shore.
The transition from shark to woman finished in the blink of an eye, and it took a single step to traverse the boundary between the sea and land. I allowed my disdain to show in my frown, looking the woman over from head to toe. Her time marooned on the island hadn’t done her clothes any favors, but her proud stance and narrowed eyes promised she hadn’t been worn down quite yet.
If she found my transformation startling, she did a good job hiding it, which I acknowledged with a slight inclination of my head. She had bested me once, and it was my turn to shine.
“Lucretta.” My use of her name counted as an insult, as I stripped her of rank and heritage, my tone colder than the unforgiving sea. “Will you parley?”
I savored her scowl, the tension in her body, and the corner I’d put her in. The tables could turn in the next few minutes, but for the moment, I stood as the victor, and we both knew it.
“I’ll parley.”
The hatred in her tone wouldn’t work in my favor; I knew all about hate, loathing, and the desire for revenge. I’d put mine aside and test her mettle. We could work together. I had something she wanted, she had something I wanted, although she didn’t know that yet.
Tossing Lucretta a bone would serve me during negotiations. “We’ve more supplies with my ship. Abrahan will serve as my voice while I bring them.”
Without waiting for her acknowledgment or agreement, I grabbed the spare rope from my canoe, rigged it to Abrahan’s, and began unloading. He joined me, and within five minutes, both were emptied. I shoved the crafts into the surf and dove in. Shifting in the shallows meant I had to plow my way out to sea, far less graceful than I liked, but it gave me a chance to show off my other form and ensure Lucretta understood what she faced.
I snagged both canoes by their ropes and towed them to the Wanderer. The supplies would protect Abrahan, and as a shark, I could maroon us all on the island together, preventing the stranded crew from succumbing to the temptation the small vessels offered. While the ploy was underhanded, I’d rely on the traditions of the past, where even in parley, the enemy wasn’t to be trusted.
If she harmed Abrahan while I was gone, she would learn how cruel a pirate could truly be.
Loading both canoes took time, but with the storm on the horizon, I emptied my ship of the necessities and a few luxuries to keep the stranded happy—or at least a little more comfortable. Well aware the marooned likely hadn’t enjoyed much fresh food, I also took the time to hunt, sliding through the waters until I found a young tuna. It fought well, but not well enough, and I dragged it to shore to discover the supplies gone and Lucretta waiting with Abrahan, Benny, and Bensen. I surged up the surf, twisted, and flung my prize at their feet.
The tuna flopped several times before the life fled its body, and I thought it an appropriate omen.
“That’s awful,” Abrahan muttered, shaking his head and kicking water at me.
I showed him my teeth, and he laughed.
Maybe I would get him two parrots, one for each shoulder, and I’d make certain they were as smart mouthed as him.
Twisting around, I returned to the sea and fetched the canoes, towing them to the beach one at a time. When Abrahan emptied them, I returned them to the Wanderer, lashed them into place, and checked my ship was ready to ride out the storm without me. By the time I had finished, Lucretta’s crew had ferried everything off the beach. Abrahan waited alone.
I shifted and stepped out of the water, grunting at the ache of hard-used muscles. “I didn’t think that through all the way.”
“Which part? Showing off your magic or serving as a pack mule?”
“Pack mule. I want her to know I’ll eat her if she crosses me.”
“It’s safe to say the message was received. Your two friends were particularly startled. All three of them clued into the nature of the Shark Tamer about five minutes after you dragged the canoes off. I think they’ve got you figured out. That navigator showed up, caught one look at their expressions, and started laughing. Then he wandered off, still laughing. I think that one is out of his right mind.”
Well, maybe one of her crew might be worth getting to know, if his reaction to the whole mess was to laugh. Then again, no.
No more damned navigators.
“I think they had me figured out from our last encounter, Abrahan.”
“No, not really. I think O’Malley believed you’re like her—an enthusiastic, dedicated descendant. She didn’t believe you were the real deal. I think she does now.”
Interesting. “They took the supplies up to the house?”
“Yes. O’Malley said she would prepare the meeting hall for the parley and requested her crew be in attendance. I didn’t think you’d have a problem with that, but I told her she was the only one who could show up armed. She agreed to my terms. I’ve got a knife in my boot, but I’m going to give it to you when we go inside.”
“Good. Her crew’s mood?”
“Better than I expected. She has them on a tight leash.”
It would do. I straightened, lifted my chin, and returned to the House Lost at Sea to take back what was mine and so much more.
Thirty-Three
Pirates shouldn’t return to where they’ve marooned enemy crews.
No matter how many times I returned to the House Lost at Sea, I doubted the sense of loss and regret would ever fade. On the outside, nothing had changed. I went first; in the old days, I’d gone first to a parley, too, as a show of strength and often an underhanded insult to those my captain wished to negotiate with.
Then, I took the risks out of loyalty and love at my captain’s request. I’d been both a weapon and a shield, and it had been an honor to defend her and the crew. I’d also understood I was expendable but important enough to toe the line of parley. If the rival side stooped to treachery, my life was of
little importance compared to my captain’s.
Now, I took those risks because I had nothing left to fear. What was death? For me, it would be a mercy. I would take another bullet for Abrahan, even if it meant I would begin the cycle of life and death all over again. Perhaps Lucretta O’Malley hadn’t wanted Naidoo to fire, but he had. My life had cost him his, although only Abrahan had known some of the truth.
I wondered if Lucretta would have fired if she’d known I couldn’t die.
Either because someone understood I wouldn’t knock or worried I’d kick the door down, a definite possibility all things considered, the door was open, the foyer empty, and lanterns illuminated the entry hall. The mementos of years long lost still decorated the walls, but I ignored them in favor of the woman waiting in the intersection beyond.
“Pirates shouldn’t return to where they’ve marooned enemy crews,” O’Malley declared, her hands on her hips, her body stiff in defiance.
Was she serious? I laughed long and hard, shaking my head at her misconception of the past—or her belief in rules that didn’t exist. “A pirate does exactly what she wishes to do. There is no such thing as honor among pirates or thieves, and even parley is a dangerous endeavor. But you have no way of knowing that, do you? History often misses the details, and families often sweep the undesirables beneath the rug. It happens. The little things, like an ancestor’s treachery, get lost over the years. Let me educate you. When you parley, expect betrayal and treachery. Some of us had honor, but the Black Scourge did not. She did what ensured her victory, and that was that. My captain wasn’t much different. Pirates could be trusted for one thing: if the pay was high and the captain well versed in the issuing of threats, they’d remain loyal—not truly dedicated in many cases, but loyal enough.”