Pillars of Six

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Pillars of Six Page 8

by St Clare, Kelly


  “Jagger?” she spluttered, suddenly terrified she might have been successful in killing him.

  He swam up beside her. “Why did ye push me out?” he said angrily. “I’ve got to stay on the ship.” He began drawing in the rope, and Ebba remembered Verity. She’d told Jagger to leave the soothsayer behind. Ebba swallowed, battling against tears.

  “Jagger, what happened?” she whispered.

  Verity rose to the surface, and Ebba took hold of the soothsayer, who’d been face-down in the water. She thumped her back until the woman coughed up the water. Her eyes popped open for a scant second, showing periwinkle blue, before the soothsayer settled back into unconsciousness. They had to get her help. Who knew how long she’d been unconscious? Ebba didn’t.

  She’d completely forgotten the soothsayer was on the opposite side of the room, dying.

  Jagger handed her the rope. “The taint didn’t get ye. That’s what. And ye need to make sure it don’t. Three hundred feet, Viva. Ye need to make to shore.” He pointed directly over her shoulder.

  Ebba clamped a hand on his arm and stared at him. “Jagger, ye can’t go back.”

  “I have to.” His voice was pained. “My family.”

  “They be gone, Jagger. Ye know that,” Ebba said, eyes searching the deck above. They were already floating away from the anchored ship, but well within pistol and cannon distance.

  Jagger shook his head. “Mercer said they be alive.”

  “And ye believe him?” Ebba said. “If they be alive, why sacrifice yerself? He’ll kill them anytime he wants; ye know he will. Ain’t nothin’ so special about ye that’ll stop the darkness on that ship from doin’ what it pleases.”

  The pirate was silent.

  Guilt tore through her as she remembered her murderous vows from just moments before. Ebba had to stop him going back to that ship. If she didn’t, he’d be taken by the pillars. “If ye go back, ye’ll be locked in that room for good. Or just killed. I won’t let ye take that on for savin’ me and Verity. The crew’s eyes were goin’ black, ye said so. That means the crew be cont’gious now. The pillars will take your soul, too, Jagger. Then ye won’t ever care about yer family, let alone want to save them.”

  Ebba assumed black irises were what Verity had meant with her ‘eyes are the windows to the soul’ nonsense. If the crew’s eyes were black, the pillars had taken their souls, and the crew could now spread the taint to any living thing by touch. Jagger’s eyes were already black-rimmed. He couldn’t last against a tainted ship and a tainted crew. Ebba wasn’t even sure how he’d held up when the rest of the crew succumbed.

  She said, “Come with me, and my crew can take ye to Neos for Ladon to do the job, if ye’re still suicidal then. Ye ain’t thinkin’ straight, Jagger. The taint be usin’ yer mouth and mind, not ye.”

  Jagger looked at her, blinking hard. His eyes seemed to lose some of the black rim, his flaxen hair taking on a new shine in the moonlight. “Aye,” he said softly, blinking again. “Aye, ye’re right.”

  He took hold of the neck of Verity’s shredded dress and floated on his back, kicking below the surface. Ebba left him to carry Verity, sensing it would be a near thing for her to reach Maltu at all, with how weak she was.

  Shouts came from the deck.

  “Shite,” Jagger cursed. “They’ve noticed. They’ll send a boat out. We have to beat them into Maltu and hide.”

  A muted pop sounded to Ebba’s right. She renewed her efforts, paddling her arms beneath the surface beside Jagger, groaning as her muscles burned. “How far?”

  Something touched her leg, and Ebba erupted into a flurry of punching and kicking. “Sumpin’ just touched me.”

  Jagger scoffed. “Ye grew up in the water, and yer afraid o’ things in the sea?”

  She’d just escaped from the worst experience of her life. She was terrified of everything right now.

  “Ebba?” someone said behind her.

  Ebba whirled in the water, not believing her ears. “Grubs?”

  He looked as shocked as she felt. “Ebba, what’re ye doin’ here in the water? I thought ye were on the evil ship? I couldn’t get in to ye. The water just around it was black and didn’t feel right to swim in. I’ve been hangin’ back here for a few hours.”

  “We escaped, Grubs.” Her voice cracked, and she burst into tears, hugging him and treading water at the same time. “I’m so glad ye’re here.”

  “How are ye here?” blurted Jagger.

  “He be part selkie,” Ebba explained. The pirate wouldn’t know. “Where’s Felicity, Grubs?”

  “She be at the western point. Close-like. We’ve been followin’ ye since ye were taken.”

  Sailing on the navy side of Kentro to follow Malice? Her fathers had put themselves at too much risk to get her back.

  “What’s a selkie?” Jagger muttered.

  “They’re shootin’ at us,” Ebba reminded everyone, darting a look behind her.

  Grubby looked perplexed. “Is that what that poppin’ be? It sounds right strange underwater.”

  Ebba gripped his arm. “Can ye get us out o’ here, Grubs? There be three o’ us.”

  “Sure.” He gave her a toothy grin. “Just hold on to my belt. Oops, wait a second, better tighten it first.”

  Jagger jerked in the water. “Sink me, hurry it along, will ye? They’re loadin’ the cannons.”

  “That be a mite tighter,” Grubby announced. “Hold on now. I’ll try to be rememberin’ not to go underwater overlong. Just pinch me if I’m forgettin’.”

  Jagger’s mouth was slightly ajar. He shook himself, blinking several times before saying, “Ye’ll need to hold her in yer arms.” He thrust Verity at Grubby.

  Grubby cradled the soothsayer, and Ebba and Jagger quickly took hold of either side of his belt.

  “Hold yer breath,” her father said cheerfully.

  She glanced back at Malice, obeying some morbid, fearful curiosity. Her eyes ran along the black ship with the crimson sails, following the lanterns strung up along the bulwark. Her breath caught at the sight of Pockmark standing near the bow, facing them. As she watched, a darkness rose behind him, enveloping him.

  Her stomach dropped, horror holding her tight as the darkness coalesced, pulsating, shrinking, and reforming. . . .

  . . . Into six looming shadows. The shadows were in the form of a man and twice the size of Pockmark. Each of the shadows rested a hand on the ship’s bulwark as they stood either side of Malice’s captain.

  Putting two and two together wasn’t hard. Verity had said the evil would regain its shadow form. The six pillars were here. They’d become strong enough to transition.

  A scream worked its way up her throat, and she froze in the water, waiting for the moment when the dark shadows would fly at their small group and drag them back to Malice. But the shadows didn’t budge. The largest of them stretched a hand out toward her, but wrenched back the limb as though stung.

  Could they not leave the ship?

  None of the other pillars had relinquished their hold on the bulwark. The shadows either couldn’t move off Malice or were content to let the crew do the work of retrieving Ebba and the others. She wasn’t sticking around to figure out which it was.

  She unfroze enough to form a mostly coherent word. “Go!”

  Ebba just managed to take a breath as Grubby took off under the water’s surface. Ebba closed her eyes as he pushed through the sea as easily as she usually ran on deck. It wasn’t fast enough. They had to get away. Fear surged within her, and though the six shadows hadn’t pursued their group so far, she couldn’t help the terrified thought that this was a cruel joke and she’d be dragged back to Malice any second.

  Grubby took them to the surface again and swam on top as they gulped in air. Ebba wiped the salty water from her eyes and then thumped on Verity’s back until she coughed up water again. Drowning was something they could deal with, but Ebba’s instincts were screaming that if the six shadows back on Malice got hold of them ag
ain, they were really goners.

  Only once Verity was breathing did Ebba glance back. Malice was a good thousand feet behind them. “We have to keep goin’. Fast,” she urged. “They’re back. I saw them back there.”

  Grubby doubled his efforts, pushing them through the dark waters.

  “Who?” Jagger called over the splashing and slapping they were causing with their bouncing movement.

  Ebba tried to slow her breathing. “There were six shadows around Pockmark. They rose up and took shadow form as I watched. They didn’t move after us, but that ain’t to say they can’t. I—”

  “The taint is still in ye,” Jagger said. “Are ye sure o’ that? Six shadows?”

  Ebba nodded. “I know what I saw. We have to get away.” She couldn’t go back there. Ever again. Who knew the monster she’d become.

  “Goin’ under,” Grubby announced.

  Conversation seized as they turned their focus toward holding their breath. The next time they came up, Ebba’s arms were trembling from holding on against the drag of the water. Jagger was the one to thump Verity on the back this time.

  “How much longer?” she asked, blinking slowly. They’d have to tie her to Grubby if it was too much farther.

  “Nearly there, Ebba. I’ll stay atop the water now we be away. The others’ll be so happy to see ye.”

  Tears mingled with the salty drops of seawater on her face. The things she’d thought about her fathers while on Malice. They’d been following her the whole time—of course they’d been following. Trying to find a way to save her. How could she have doubted them?

  “How long was I on Malice?” she asked hoarsely.

  Jagger answered, “Ten days.”

  In ten days, the six pillars had taken over her will. Or very nearly. In ten days, she’d turned her back on her fathers, and Caspian, Verity, and Jagger. She’d tried to kill him! A person who’d saved her life in the past. If not for the water knocking her back to her senses, she would’ve done her best to finish the job.

  What kind of person did that make her? Ten days, and she’d forgotten who she was. There was something ugly in her, something evil the six pillars had latched on to and wedged a splinter inside of to make the ugliness larger. She’d lost herself. In ten days.

  Ebba wasn’t who she thought she was. She inhaled sharply. She’d already been a monster, and the ship had just seized on her weaknesses.

  She choked and ignored a look from Jagger. Pressing her lips together, she forced her sobs to stay inside as Grubby tore through the ocean.

  Soon, a familiar sight bobbed in the water ahead.

  It was the last straw.

  Ebba choked on her tears, sobbing and shaking uncontrollably in the water as Grubby took them closer.

  “Don’t cry, Ebba,” Grubby begged, moving faster.

  The breath caught in her throat, and her chest seized as the last ten days came crashing down on her. She couldn’t stop. The stuttering, high-pitched sobs just continued as she was pulled up on deck by her fathers above, and they continued as her fathers took turns hugging her, every one of them crying too.

  “What did they do to ye?” Stubby said hoarsely, gray-blue eyes wide as he searched her for injury. His face slackened as he took in her appearance. Were the bruises still showing? Or was it just her general thinness and grubbiness?

  Ebba’s teeth chattered, and she couldn’t answer. Sally flew over and hugged her face before perching on her shoulder. Her fathers glared at the wind sprite before turning back to her, a question in their eyes.

  Ebba shook her head, pressing her lips together. Her fathers hadn’t wanted to drag up their horrors, and Ebba now had some of her own. She couldn’t tell them. It was too vivid. Too real. Shame and confusion rendered her mute.

  Jagger spoke from the bulwark. “I’ll tell ye when we’re on the way.”

  Locks’ eyes fell on the unmoving form at his feet. “Verity? Verity!” He fell to his knees beside her, gathering her in his arms. “What happened to her?”

  “S-she was in there, too,” Ebba shivered, the memory of the darkness so real she could touch it. “In the room. They were drainin’ her power to feed the ship. The pillars be back. The ones the Earth Mother told us of. I saw them.” Her shivers grew until she was shaking like a lax sail.

  “What?” Peg-leg asked, horror and confusion etched in the deep lines on his face.

  Jagger tried to stand and fell back to sitting. “We need to go. This can wait until later. Where are we headed?”

  “He’s right,” Barrels said. “West or east?”

  “West—it’s farther from the navy’s preferred route. We’ll have to sail the southern coast of Kentro in navy seas, or risk Malice cuttin’ us off at the north end,” Plank answered.

  “Raise anchor, lads,” Stubby ordered.

  Locks stayed with the three of them as the rest of her fathers scattered to get Felicity moving. He stared at each in turn, Verity still cradled in his arms. “Ebba,” he whispered. “Lass, we were so afraid for ye. How did ye escape?”

  Ebba still shook uncontrollably, but she tilted her head at Jagger.

  Her father turned back to Jagger, who looked about to lose consciousness himself. How long had he been holding on by a thread for? He’d lasted an entire month down in that room and had still been so . . . normal. She’d become a cutthroat in ten days. How had Jagger stayed so together?

  There really was something wrong with her.

  “Let’s get ye all below deck. Ye need food and rest.” He stood with Verity and turned to Jagger. “Can ye walk, lad?”

  Jagger nodded and gritted his teeth to stand. He nearly made it, but fell back into his crouch. Ebba crossed to him on wobbly legs. His eyes were only black-rimmed. Ebba assumed that meant he was okay to touch. She took hold of his arm, avoiding his gaze. “I’ll help ye, like ye helped me.”

  Maybe if she did the right thing for the rest of her life, she’d atone for what happened. Ebba heaved with all her might.

  He didn’t budge. In fact, nothing happened. Other than her falling on top of Jagger.

  “Right, well, I’ll be back for the pair o’ ye,” Locks said, heading to the bilge.

  She lay sprawled on top of Jagger, too weak to move.

  “Thanks for nothin’,” he wheezed underneath her.

  But black closed in on her, and Ebba couldn’t be sure if she actually said the words, ‘Ye better not be cont’gious,’ or not.

  Eleven

  Ebba sighed and snuggled into the blanket. This hammock was perfect, and she never wanted to leave it.

  There was a muted thud as someone hit someone else, followed by a hissed, “Shh.”

  Already mourning the loss of her oblivious comfort, Ebba cracked open an eye. Her other eye opened, too, at the sight of four of her fathers a few feet away. All of them staring at her.

  “What happened?” She groaned and shifted onto her back in the hammock.

  “Ye’ve been asleep for two days, little nymph,” Plank said. “Ye all have.”

  She glanced left and saw Jagger slumbering there in a hammock, Verity in another hammock on his other side. They were in Felicity’s hold. The familiar sight of her beloved ship brought the recent events rushing back. Cold and lingering horror planted deep in her veins at the thought of the dark room on Malice.

  She never thought she’d see her fathers again. Or these sleeping quarters. Ebba hadn’t dared to dream of ever swinging in her own hammock once more, or of hearing the welcoming creak and groan of Felicity as she sailed.

  “Ye’ve been dead to the world,” Plank said.

  Ebba shivered, but curled as her stomach cramped. “When did I last eat?”

  “Afore ye slept, but by the look o’ ye, not much afore that. We were goin’ to wake ye to eat,” Peg-leg sniffed, his eyes glistening. “I’ll go rustle sumpin’ up.”

  “Peg-leg?” she said. He stopped, but didn’t turn, shoulders held stiffly. “Just not mangoes, please.”

  Fou
r sets of eyes landed on her, but she didn’t explain further.

  “Aye,” Peg-leg sniffed again. His voice hardened. “No mangoes. I’ll throw the whole lot o’ them overboard first chance I get.” He disappeared down into the hold.

  Grubby took her hand. She attempted to smile at him.

  “Thank ye, Grubs. We wouldn’t have made it back here without ye.”

  He wiped his eyes on his stained sleeve and planted a wet kiss on her forehead. “Ye can do anythin’ ye set your mind to, Ebba.”

  Ebba closed her eyes, swallowing hard against threatening tears.

  “If ye feel up to it,” Locks said, “ye’ll feel much better after a wash.”

  “Aye, I’ll do that.” Ebba didn’t have the heart to tell them that feeling better wasn’t going to be so easy. Navigating Syraness had haunted her. The fear of not being able to save her fathers, to be without them and the reason they died had plagued her in the weeks after. But that room . . . it had torn into who she was, dug at her insecurities and left them as gaping wounds. She’d been about to kill someone and leave a friend behind. Ebba wanted to tell her fathers about the taint. About what she’d done.

  . . . Except she couldn’t.

  Her shame over the ugliness within her was too thick to navigate. If she was stronger, or truly good, the dark power couldn’t have made her act that way. She should’ve been able to keep the pillars’ taint at bay as Jagger had—to fight back in some way. But she hadn’t. It had preyed on her weaknesses, her own wickedness. The feeling was similar to how Locks had described his time on Eternal.

  If being tainted was akin to what he’d felt while sailing under Mutinous, Locks had been right: Ebba hadn’t understood what her fathers had gone through. About how they’d lost themselves and begun to like doing bad things without understanding why. His words struck a chord within her now. And she desperately wished that they didn’t.

 

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