The Unfortunate Souls Collection

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The Unfortunate Souls Collection Page 33

by Stacey Rourke


  Trailing off, she plunged into silence at the horrors she faced and the repulsive acts she narrowly escaped.

  I swallowed hard. I was almost afraid to ask, but had to know. “How did you secure freedom?”

  “I was swabbing the deck, lip still bleeding from my last brawl, when I saw the black sails of the Jolly Roger cresting the horizon.” Peering out the opened door at the same landbound vessel, a sense of peace washed over her, softening her ache like a mother’s soothing touch. “Not that I knew it as that at the time. I have looked back on that moment over the years, trying to recall how it felt when I gazed up at my salvation for the first time. As much as I can recall, I don’t remember feeling anything at all. I saw it as another hurdle to jump just to make it to another sunset. While I watched it swell before us, the rest of the crew scurried about, shouting orders at one another. Pirates had been spotted, and that brotherhood of so-called upstanding sailors sought nothing more than to sink them to the depths.” A dry huff of laughter escaping her, Malyn’s stare locked on the Jolly Roger askew in the distance, seeing it for the first time once more. “As if they stood a chance. Time moved in a dizzying blur. Our ship was overtaken, the pirates boarded it and trapped the crew in a trembling huddle on the main deck. I can still hear the echoing clomps of Captain Harwood’s boots against the plank strung between the two vessels. That was before he lost his leg to cannon fire, you see. Back then his presence was undeniable. He possessed a command over the sea and all those that dared charter a vessel upon it. At the sight of him, the same men who tormented me without mercy now sobbed and wept for their mommies. I later learned that The Enforcer and its gutless captain were in possession of an artifact Harwood desired. What it was, I never asked. I didn’t care to know what they deemed the value of my worth.”

  “Your worth?” Phin scoot closer beside Malyn, staring up at the unshed tears gleaming in her eyes with youthful concern.

  For his sake, she attempted a smile that fell short of reaching her eyes. “The crew propositioned the captain to take me, in exchange for their safe passage.”

  “The captain took you?” Phin’s hands twisted around his flute, clutching it to his chest. “That doesn’t make him sound much like a hero.”

  “In that regard it doesn’t, does it?” Head listing, she brushed the hair from Phin’s eyes. “Captain Harwood seemed to consider the idea. Testing their resolve, he asked if they would give any protest to me becoming entertainment for the crew. They voiced no objections. Feeding off the weakness of their character, he asked if they would like to watch as his men shredded me to ribbons. The lot of them looked away, too ashamed to meet his eyes. The final degradation was to inquire if they would voice a complaint to me being hung from the mast and quartered, bathing them all in my blood and entrails. A few whimpers were the only protest offered. Evaluation of their valor complete, Captain ordered his men to claim the ship’s booty then sink her to the depths. When he turned my way, I convulsed with terror, so sure was I that my death sentence was about to be uttered. To my surprise—and the crew’s horror—he said that since they were willing to decide my fate, it was only fair I be allowed to reciprocate. Voice devoid of emotion, he asked who among them I chose to spare.”

  “What did you do?” Needing a moment to find my voice, the words came out in a breathless whisper.

  Pushing off the floor, Malyn walked to the fire and lost herself in its crackling embers. “I looked out over their sea of faces, searching for a morsel of good among them. There was Samuel, who snuck me an extra biscuit each night. Then went on to crack my rib when his friends goaded him into challenging me. Seemingly compassionate Martin said he would guard the door to the infirmary, and allow me to sleep. He later crept in during the wee hours of morning to try and take liberties with my battered body. Should I have shown mercy to William, who actually came to my defense once and said I owed him something for it later? In the end, I uttered one word. None,” she confessed to the flames. “There were no survivors. That was the first time I watched the crocodile appear. He ravaged The Enforcer and left none standing. Their shrieks still haunt my nightmares. When the last body fell, he stalked back onto the Jolly Roger with gore tripping from his fangs. Pausing beside me, his panted breath reeked of death. He could have killed me like all the others. I still question why he didn’t. Instead, he loomed beside me, wordlessly watching the ocean swallow the once proud Enforcer.” Slowly turning our way, Malyn rubbed her hands up and down her upper arms, fighting off the chill of her sordid revelation. “I’ve been a grateful member of his crew ever since. You should know, the transformation wreaks havoc on his body. He has aged decades in the five years I’ve served under him. I do all I can to prevent his change; seeking to control and maintain all elements of Marooner’s Rock. Ours is an island of nothing. Even the weather is a testimony of neutrality. All of that changed when the three of you appeared. Whatever business you have here is of no concern of mine. My sole focus is to keep the monster at bay, and my captain safe.”

  “Monster. What does such a word mean?” Dropping from the ceiling, Sterling melted from the rafters. Mid-fall, he flipped in the air and landed gracefully on his feet. “If one is deemed a monster, isn’t any act they commit considered a monstrous one? Simply by being, they are a monster behaving monstrously. As a loon acts looney, or a duck acts … ducky. It is their very nature. Who they are. Not wrong. Not right. Not good, nor bad. Connotations to the contrary are based purely on critical judgments.”

  “Someone interject something,” I requested, lips falling into a mock frown, “because that actually made sense to me, and that’s terrifying.”

  Bristling, my quip bounced off Malyn’s indignant front. She swiveled to face Sterling, her hands balled into tight fists at her sides. “What is it you’re implying, sir?”

  “I imply nothing.” He shrugged. “You call the thing within him a monster. As it is a faction of your captain, that would make your captain a monster as well. By definition then, every act he commits would be considered monstrous. It seems to me he would be a tough fellow to trust.”

  Malyn stalked a circle around him, glaring him down with predatory intent. “We all have some sort of monster within us. Greed. Longing. Rage. Do you deny the daily fight we all endure not to give in to the dark voice whispering in our minds, tempting us to lose ourselves in unthinkable atrocities?”

  “I would never,” Sterling simply stated, unruffled by her aggression.

  She planted her feet in a wide-legged stance and jammed her hands onto her hips. “While the captain’s darkness manifests for all to see, it doesn’t make the beast in each of us any less real.”

  Raising his hand in front of him, Sterling watched with mesmerized interest as his fingers rolled and twisted one way and then the other. “Well and true. How can we trust anyone … or, ourselves?”

  Malyn filled her lungs to capacity, and exhaled through pursed lips in effort to maintain her slipping composure. “I trust the captain, because without him I would be dead.” Marching to the door, she threw a glance back over her shoulder. “Perhaps you’ll think him less the dastardly villain when you learn he has granted you access to the mirror.”

  Hands on his knees, Sterling crouched down beside Phin to whisper, “Did I call him such a thing? I don’t remember using those words at all. Then again, I seldom listen to my own yammerings.”

  A threatening laugh pinkened Phin’s cheeks, pulling at the corners of his lips. Wisely, he suppressed it.

  Hand on the door frame, Malyn drummed her fingers against the weathered wood. “The captain is resting now. The change exhausts him. When he rises, you shall go before him to investigate the artifact under supervision.”

  “And after we have viewed the mirror?” I ventured.

  Tipping her chin, she peered my way with an icy indifference that prickled through me. “After, Captain Harwood will determine if you live or die.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The fire had died down. Moo
nlight glistened through the glassless windows, bathing the shanty in a silver glow. Silently staring at the smoldering embers within the hearth, our trio perked at the crunch of heavy footfalls approaching. Glancing to the door, we found Potchis swaying there. Cradled in his hands, he toted what appeared to be a homemade teddy bear comprised of mismatched fabrics and loosely strung button-eyes.

  “For the boy.” He extended the offering in Phin’s direction. “A lad needs something to hold onto, especially when there’s no one to hold him.”

  Phin’s eyes, heavy with sleep, brightened at the sight of the toy. Dragging himself to his feet, he scuffed across the creaking floorboards to collect it. “Thank you,” he murmured, squeezing it tight to his chest.

  A curt nod was as close to a response as Potchis offered. Frame filling the doorway, the giant I was coming to see as the gentle sort shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “All must come. The captain awaits.”

  Hopping to his feet, Sterling shook off sleep’s hold with an aggressive shudder. “I do hope he lets us keep our heads. I’ve grown rather attached to mine.”

  Oblivious to how he frightened the child, causing Phin to clutch his toy tighter still, Sterling strode out the door without glancing back to see if the rest of us were following.

  Having to step into the shanty to allow Sterling passage, Potchis ducked his head to catch Phin’s apprehensive stare. “Stay by me. I’ll keep you safe.”

  Phin reached out and closed his fist around two of Potchis’ fingers, trusting the towering chap to lead him out.

  Trailing the odd pair, I was struck by the lengths Potchis was going to for the safety and security of a child he barely knew.

  “Potchis,” I ventured, a gentle night breeze causing rogue strands of hair to lash at my cheeks, “are you happy here, serving your captain?”

  Head bobbing, his hunched stature didn’t break stride. “Potchis is part of the crew, he is.”

  “That’s not much of an answer,” Phin pointed out, the lilt of his voice an angel’s song compared to Potchis’ thunderous boom.

  For a moment Potchis let his gaze travel to the tree line at the edge of camp, something that resembled longing cut deep creases between his brows. “Potchis leaving was never a question. Being part of the crew … was.”

  Maybe I saw in him the part of myself that longed for freedom, and home. Maybe I was a dog with a bone that didn’t know when to let go. Unsure of my own motivation, I dug in further. “But if it was? What if you were given the choice to leave a free man, or stay? What would you choose?”

  Steps faltering, Potchis’ head whipped in one direction then the other, scanning the landscape as if worried someone was listening. “Part of the crew,” he stated again, with a stern conviction that rang false.

  Solidifying from the darkness in a chilling shimmer, Sterling offered Potchis a wide, manic smile. His eyes glowing orbs that haunted the night. “Every adventure requires a first step. You simply must choose which is yours.”

  Potchis pulled back, yanking Phin along with him in panicked retreat.

  Lunging forward, I clapped a comforting hand on Potchis’ tree trunk of a forearm. “He means no harm!” I soothed. Desperate to calm the spiraling situation, I beseeched the lonely child that lived in the depths of the giant’s stare. “He’s been alone, and dejected. Same as you.”

  “I have?” Sterling’s nose crinkled. “What a miserable existence.”

  “My point,” hushing Sterling with a glare, I turned a friendly smile in Potchis’ direction, “is that while our crew isn’t much, you’re welcome to join us.”

  “Look out for the boy? Keep him safe?” The possibility twinkling in his irises was quickly snuffed out with a glance in the direction of the Jolly Roger and its waiting captain. Shoulders sagging, Potchis’ broad face folded into a frown. White wisps of hair falling into his eyes, he shook his head. “Part of the crew, he is. Never leaving this never-land.”

  “Of course, I meant no disrespect.”

  If he heard me at all, Potchis hid it well. Stillness washed over him, leaving nothing behind short of an empty shell of acceptance. Peering my way with eyes as vacant as the teddy bear’s buttons, he dutifully returned to the task he had been charged with. “Can’t keep the captain waiting.”

  Potchis pivoted on his heel, resuming his wide stride, rushing us toward our rendezvous with destiny.

  Seated in a wingback chair, Captain Harwood was propped up by pillows, appearing more shriveled and frail then before. Dressed in a crimson velvet robe, he outstretched one arthritic hand to wave us into his private dining room aboard the Jolly Roger. Potchis and Malyn took their place against the wall opposite him, stares trained straight ahead as they awaited their captain’s command. Entering the room, with Sterling and Phin tucked close to my sides, I scanned the space. Even in its dilapidated condition, the stately magnificence of the ship could not be denied. The mahogany table was hand-carved mastery, the walls draped with jewel toned tapestries.

  “Come, join me for a meal,” he rasped, his quaking hand gesturing to the chairs opposite him. “I am sorry to say I only offer what the island grants us, but you’re very welcome to it.”

  The spread before us was barely enough to feed one person; a halved pineapple, one smoked fish, a bowl of some sort of grey mush, and another of macadamia nuts. While Sterling and Phin took their seats, I remained standing, hands gripping the back of my chair.

  “May I?” I asked with a nod to the humble buffet.

  The corners of his pale grey eyes crinkling with interest, Harwood bowed his head in approval of the unspoken request. “By all means.”

  Head falling back, I rolled my shoulders and tried to recall how it was I manifested things before. Far as I could tell, I simply thought of them. In my mind I pictured the great feast served at Caselotti. The salty sweetness of a glazed ham. Succulent roast goose. Bowls of fluffy mashed potatoes. Towering plates of warm biscuits. Fruit by the bushel. Trays of desserts I could never name, but would never forget their heavenly decadence. The vision was so vivid I could smell the mouthwatering aroma.

  A bark of laughter rattling from Harwood’s chest popped my eyes open.

  “That is a handy skill to have!” The captain peered my way with a fresh appreciation. “I’m inclined to offer you a position with my crew with talent like that.”

  My chair squeaked across the wood planked floor as I dragged it back to take a seat. “Were I not duty bound to King Liam of Caselotti, I might be inclined to consider such an offer,” I politely lied.

  “And a man of honor, to boot. I can respect that.” Scooting himself up in his seat, he waved the three of us to the now grand display. “Please, help yourselves. I would hate to enjoy all of this alone.”

  Phin needed no further invitation. Grabbing the polished silver spoon, he heaped his plate with mashed potatoes. Content with the helping of fluffy spoils, he dove in and enjoyed each mouthful with audible appreciation.

  Watching Harwood’s hand shake as it struggled to grip a serving fork, Malyn took a tentative step forward, hovering in case she was needed. Only when he managed to finagle a piece of ham onto his plate did she step back into formation.

  After cutting his meat with the side of his fork, Harwood shoveled a bite into his mouth and talked in between noisy chomps. “Many have sought answers held within the mirror you seek. Myself included. Yet, a scarce few are granted them. Sadly, I’m counted among that unfortunate lot as well. I have no qualms allowing you to gaze upon it, but would hate for you to be disappointed as I have been so many, many times.”

  Hungrily wetting his lips, Sterling reached over his plate to tear a drumstick from the roasted goose. The moment his skin touched it, the headless foul leapt from the tray. It flapped its featherless wings, and flew right out the open window. Hand flitting to his mouth, Sterling emitted a stunned eep.

  With a grimace of unease, he pushed his plate in my direction. “Would you get me a slice of ham … please?”<
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  Blinking in astonishment, the party as a collective unit decided to shake off the oddity witnessed.

  “We know of the legend.” I cleared my throat, and forked two slices of ham on to Sterling’s plate for him. “They say it takes one pure of heart and gifted with sight to behold the truth within the reflection. If I may ask how you came to possess such a treasured artifact?”

  “I sought it out for many years, hoping it would hold the key to breaking my own … curse.” Reaching for his napkin to dab his mouth, his opposite hand pointed to his face in reference to his reptilian alter ego. “Tracking and researching led me to a ship known as The Enforcer. Our own Sergeant Malyn was among the treasures I found aboard.”

  Bristling at her name in mention to part of her own tale she had never heard, Malyn risked a glance in her captain’s direction.

 

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