Moss Forest Orchid (Silver and Orchids Book 1)

by Shari L. Tapscott

  “Where have you been?” Sebastian demands once I’m close enough he doesn’t have to yell. “Didn’t I tell you to stay away from that man?”

  I instantly bristle. “May I remind you I am not twelve years old, and I do not need your permission to walk about the island.”

  “Look at him,” Sebastian hisses. “Can’t you tell he’s up to something?”

  Just to humor him, I glance at Avery, who’s leaning against a stack of crates, looking rather bored. There’s nothing improper about the captain. His clothes are fashionable and well-cared for. His hair is short, and his jaw looks freshly-shaven. He’s handsome and…and…

  I glance at Sebastian. My stomach squirms.

  In some ways, Avery rather resembles Sebastian. In fact, the resemblance is so strong, the two could be brothers.

  What is wrong with me? And on that note, what is wrong with Sebastian? How could he disapprove of someone so like himself?

  Just as I’m pondering the thought, Avery looks over and gives me a slow-burning smile.

  And there’s the difference. Avery is fun. Sebastian is not.

  “I’ll be back aboard The Sea Star before we sail this evening,” I tell Sebastian, my tone sharp. “Avery has offered to let me clean up a bit on his ship.”

  Sebastian gapes at me. He was ready to argue but is now momentarily stunned into silence. As I’m turning to walk away, he regains his senses and clasps my shoulder, gently holding me in place. He looks like there are a dozen things he wants to say, but he chooses the most pressing. “We need to find you a charm while we’re on the island.”

  I hold my new token up. “I already purchased one while you were fawning over that black-haired girl.”

  And now I sound jealous.

  Sebastian must think so too, because his eyebrows shoot up, and an odd look crosses his face. “But I have the money.”

  My haughty expression falters, though I try to hold it. “I took care of it.”

  “What did you sell?”

  I rip my arm free of Sebastian’s grasp. “I said I took care of it.”

  He frowns as I walk back to Avery, but this time, he doesn’t attempt to stop me.

  “Ready?” Avery asks when I finally return.

  After glancing over my shoulder, I nod.

  “Very well, my lady,” Avery says as he tucks my hand in his arm. “I’m at your service.”

  “I’m not a lady,” I remind him.

  He glances at me and grins. “Thank goodness for that.”

  As we board the dinghy that will take us to Avery’s ship, I look back at the pier one last time. Sebastian’s already gone.

  ***

  I sink into the soft feather mattress and pull the down-stuffed blankets around me. I’ve never, not in my life, lain in such a comfortable bed. The Greybrow Serpent rocks in the lazy cove, but with my token at my side, the motion no longer makes me ill.

  I’m in what Avery called the guest suite. It’s far larger than the tiny cabin I’ve been inhabiting, and more luxurious than anything I could ever afford. The furniture is made of cherry, and it shines in the warm afternoon light.

  All the furniture, from the bed to the bookshelves, is either bolted to the floor or built into the walls to keep everything from sliding to and fro as the ship sails. A soft rug covers the floor. When I finally pulled myself from the lovely copper tub that held water so hot, it was almost scalding, my toes sank into the soft fibers.

  Now I’m wrapped in a plush robe and cocooned in a bed I never want to leave. Which is an issue because the light is taking on an orange hue as the sun makes its way to the western sea. As much as I don’t want to, I must return to The Sea Star.

  With an exaggerated sigh, I toss the covers aside and swing my legs to the side of the bed. This could have been my room.

  I’m just looking for my clothes when there’s a knock at the door.

  “Delivery from Captain Avery,” a man calls.

  I secure the robe and crack the door open. A sailor stands, looking acutely uncomfortable with a neatly-folded stack of women’s things in his arms.

  “What is that?” I ask.

  The man glances at his load and gives me a mystified look. “Clothes?”

  “But they aren’t mine.”

  He looks at me…then at the clothes…then at me again, appearing almost comically helpless for a competent, strapping young sailor.

  Shrugging, I put the man out of his misery and accept the bundle. After I shut the door, I spread the gift on the untidy bed. There’s a pair of tan suede pants that are so soft and fine, they must be made of buckskin. A white short-sleeved bodice accompanies them, along with a scarlet corset belt and a fine sheath for my dagger. There are underthings as well, all made of silk so light even my untrained eyes can tell they cost a fortune.

  Sebastian will have a conniption if I stride back onto The Sea Star wearing all this. I scan the room for my original clothes, which must have been spirited away while I bathed behind the screen. They’re nowhere to be found. I suppose I have no choice but to wear what Avery has given me.

  I bite back an ornery smile.

  As I dress, I vaguely wonder how the clothes fit as well as they do. Avery must have a knack for these things—something to keep in mind.

  My dagger fits perfectly in the sheath, and I admire the way it hangs on my hip. Avery’s even sent boots to match. They’re worthless things, tall and feminine with a heel too high to be anything but pretty. But they’re as soft as butter, and they make my legs look fabulous.

  I leave my hair down, something I don’t usually do when I’m working because all the really nasty creatures—trolls, imps, goblins—will grab your long, flowing locks if you’re fool enough to give them a chance. It shouldn’t be a problem this evening.

  Once I’m finished, I stare at my reflection in the mirror on the vanity, frowning. My hair’s dark chestnut, a shade of brunette with a touch of red, and a vain part of me has always thought it to be one of my best features. Now it looks lackluster. Maybe I can buy a charm to give it some shine? Or perhaps an apothecary would have something to put in it?

  Curse Sebastian and his big mouth.

  The last of the sun’s rays shine on my face, making my eyes look bluer than they are. My eyes are blue, I suppose. But they’re not cornflower like my mother’s or cerulean like my younger sister’s. They’re a cobalt that’s faded—an azure that’s lost its vibrancy. More gray than blue, I suppose. A young Sebastian said they are the color of summer storms.

  He’s not that poetic anymore.

  After I stand for far too long in front of the mirror, scrutinizing myself, I find my way to the deck. The crewmen don’t seem to be in any sort of hurry as they go about their chores. Some talk in groups. Others are in the ship’s rigging, and a few young boys mop the deck.

  One man sits on a barrel, singing a song of mermaids. His baritone mingles with the vielle he plays. Enchanted, I make my way toward him and watch as he skillfully runs his bow along the stringed instrument. Another man joins, and soon half the men on the deck are singing.

  I laugh, enjoying the show. Finally, I pull away.

  The sun has sunk, and the distant water is stained red. The first stars appear, and I know if I don’t leave now, I’ll miss The Sea Star’s departure. I wander the deck one last time, looking for Avery, but no one knows where the captain’s gotten to.

  Though I’m reluctant to leave without thanking him, I walk toward the boy manning the dinghies and ask him to take me to my ship.

  The small boat dips and glides across the water. As we make our way toward the nearby passenger ship, I watch the pink-colored seabirds at the water’s edge. They’ve clustered in great groups, and their chatter fills the evening air.

  Too soon, we reached our destination.

  As soon as I board The Sea Star, my eyes meet Sebastian’s. From the way he paces the deck, I can tell he must have been waiting for me, possibly about to snatch me from The Greybrow Serpent himself
.

  When he sees me in my new clothing, he goes temporarily mute. His expression is a strange mix of suspicion, irritation, and slack-jawed disbelief. In short, it looks like he’s swallowed his tongue.

  “Problem?” I ask as I stride by him. Luckily, I’ve grown accustomed to the heeled boots, and I don’t fall on my nose.

  He snaps his mouth shut and follows me. “Where have you been?”

  I glance over my shoulder at him. “With Avery.”

  Not entirely true. I saw very little of the captain once we reached the ship. Most of my afternoon was spent sleeping off the last four wretched days.

  Sebastian narrows his eyes and hurries to catch up. “And what exactly are you wearing?”

  “Clothes.” Turning, I hold my arms wide. “What else would you have me wear? A burlap sack?”

  My partner’s eye twitches—much to my wicked satisfaction. “What happened to the ones you were wearing earlier?”

  I can’t help myself. I lean forward conspiratorially. “Honestly? I have no idea.”

  With a waggle of my eyebrows, I turn on my heel and continue toward the tiny cabin below deck, laughing under my breath as I leave Sebastian sputtering like an angry barn cat.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Brenilsilté

  I open the door to my cabin, wondering for the first time in days what they’re serving for dinner, and then stop dead in my tracks. Sitting on the flat pillow in the middle of my uncomfortable, narrow bed is a familiar scarlet egg.

  Air whooshes out of my lungs. I hurry toward the treasure and take it into my hands.

  The door opens behind me, and Sebastian comes storming in, still upset from our confrontation on the deck. “Lucia, I swear if you’ve—”

  “You bought it back for me.” All ill-will forgotten, I take a step forward, ready to throw my arms around his waist. I stop myself just in time.

  Sebastian turns his attention toward the egg in my hands, and his brow furrows. “I thought you traded that for your charm.”

  He looks so baffled, I pause. “I did…and, in an uncharacteristically generous act of kindness, you bought it back for me.”

  “No.” He crosses his arms. “I didn’t. You would have been better off free of it.”

  I was feeling all kinds of warm, cozy feelings toward him, but those dwindle away. “If it wasn’t you, who was it?”

  “Excuse me. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” a maid says mildly as she peeks in through the open door. “It was the captain of The Greybrow Serpent. He asked me to deliver the egg moments ago, but I forgot the note that accompanied it. I was just returning with it.”

  The neat and tidy woman extends the folded parchment toward me. Again, she offers her apologies and slips from the room.

  My chest goes warm, and my stomach feels light and tingly. The parchment is sealed with an intricate “G” pressed into the red wax. I flip the note open, smiling as I read it.

  “What does it say?” Sebastian all but growls.

  I look at him from over the note. “None of your business.”

  Sebastian appears irritated, but he tries to hide it. “I don’t know why you’re so enamored with that beast. Dragons are nothing but a nuisance.”

  I almost wonder if the beast he’s referring to is Avery and not the dragon.

  Before I can ask, he gives me a curt nod and leaves.

  “Hello again,” I murmur to the egg once Sebastian’s good and truly gone. I stroke the shell and think of a certain captain I probably shouldn’t be thinking of.

  ***

  Traveling by sea is much more enjoyable when you’re not too ill to move. I stand at the prow most days, marveling at the horizon and reveling in the feel of sea spray on my face. The dragon egg stays secured in the satchel at my side, safe and protected from the rocking, sometimes jarring, voyage.

  We’ve made several more stops on our journey to Grenalda, but I haven’t seen Avery again. Somehow, I know he’s not far.

  “The captain says we’ll reach Brenilsilté by the end of the day,” Sebastian says instead of a greeting when he joins me by the rail.

  My traveling companion’s words startle me, make me think of the wrong captain. I give myself a mental slap and turn toward Sebastian.

  He’s barely spoken to me since our first stop, and when he does, he’s so formally polite it’s painful. I acknowledge him with a brusque nod, but I’m not sure if I’m angry with him or simply upset that he’s upset. No matter, it’s made for an awkward trip, one I’ll be glad to be done with.

  Instead of walking away like he usually does, Sebastian rests his forearms on the rail and looks out at the ocean. I wait for him to say something, and I grow tense the longer he lingers.

  Though he’s been sleeping with the crew, he looks as perfect as usual, and he smells faintly exotic, which makes me wonder where he got the cologne and who he’s trying to impress. There are many young women traveling aboard the ship—all with proper companions and pedigrees far more distinguished than mine.

  The thought makes my chest tighten, almost as if I’m jealous—which is madness. Sebastian is only a friend—if that. It’s all he’s ever been. It’s certainly all I want him to be.

  Just imagine you and Sebastian together. You’d kill each other.

  Scowling at the absurd thought, I turn back toward the sea, trying hard to ignore the man next to me. My hands itch to pat down my hair, to attempt to tame it. Not that it would do any good. My braid is windblown and knotted, and it’s been weeks since I bathed in Avery’s guest cabin. I’ve visited a few ladies’ bathhouses on the islands our ship has docked at, but the water is usually cold in the establishments I can afford, and I cannot pay extra for the fancy, scented oils. My tangled locks lost the sweet scent of Avery’s soap over a week ago.

  “How long are we in Brenilsilté?” I ask Sebastian idly. If I remember correctly, this layover will be longer than the others.

  Sebastian glances over, looking almost as if he’d forgotten I’m still here. “Overnight. The ship must be restocked, and the captain is giving most of the crew shore leave.”

  I nod. I can make quite a bit of money at a tavern in a night, providing I choose the right place to work. And, if I’m lucky, there might be an odd errand job I can inquire on, though I fear I’m becoming more of a delivery girl with each passing day. But at least I’ll be able to buy a decent bath. That way if—when—I run into Avery again—

  “There’s a tea room on the island,” Sebastian says, interrupting my wayward thoughts. “A place Lady Fjorda’s spoken of. It’s supposed to be excellent.”

  I look at him again. Why does he look uncomfortable? And why is he dropping fancy names into the conversation like I’d be impressed by that sort of thing?

  “Perhaps we should try it,” he finishes.

  After several moments, I shrug. “I don’t care where we go if you pay.”

  Sebastian looks mildly irritated. He narrows his eyes, peering at me almost as if he’s trying to decide what’s wrong with me. Then he exhales in a refined but huffy sort of way and turns from the rail. “Tomorrow perhaps.”

  And then he walks off.

  “I’m going to find a tavern to wait tables in tonight,” I call, feeling the need to tell him, though I can’t think of any apparent reason why I should. It’s not as if he’s my nursemaid.

  He stops and turns back, giving me an incredulous look. “I don’t think that’s a safe idea. You know nothing of the island.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “When did you become so paranoid? What are you, my father?”

  “Fine,” he snaps as he continues walking. “Do whatever you want.”

  Dumbfounded, I watch him until he disappears through the door that leads below. Then I take the egg from its resting place and stroke the shell as I stare at a tiny land mass taking form in the distance. “Men are complicated, little dragon. Let’s hope you’re a girl.”

  ***

  At half-past three in the morning, Sebastian finds me workin
g in a tavern near the port. Surprised, I offer him a smile as he walks through the door. He rarely visits me when I’m working. The room’s quiet in the early morning, but a few of the early risers are showing up. I’m carrying a carafe of rum-laced spiced coffee to a group of sailors who just arrived, but I pause in front of Sebastian.

  “Take a seat. I’ll be right back,” I tell him. “Are you thirsty? Hungry? The owner makes a sweet custard dessert. I had a taste earlier. It’s good.”

  Sebastian chooses a spot at the bar. “No, thank you.”

  I deposit the carafe, and then I hurry back. “What about coffee?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  Another group walks through the door, but one of the regulars goes to attend them. I take a rag and wipe the counter. “If you’re not thirsty or hungry, why are you out of bed at this awful hour?”

  He drums his fingers on the counter. “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll take coffee.”

  “All right.” I give him a weird look. After I pour him a cup, I rest my elbows on the bar in front of him. “So why are you here?”

  “Maybe I missed you,” he says dryly.

  “Not likely.”

  He takes a sip and holds up the cup. “This is good. You didn’t make it, did you?”

  “No—you know they never let me near the kitchen. It’s as if people sense I’m capable of burning water.”

  I don’t ask him again why he’s here, but I know there’s a reason. He seems agitated. Finally, after he’s finished his drink, he says, “You have a visitor.”

  “What? Who?”

  Sebastian exhales and crosses his arms. “Captain Greybrow.”

  My chest grows warm, and my stomach flutters. So he won’t see how the news has affected me, I wipe the bar again, in the same place I just cleaned. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “Waiting’s good for a man. It builds character.”

  “And just how long has he been waiting?”

  Sebastian examines his empty mug, studying it. “Since about nine.”

  “Since nine?” I demand. “That was six hours ago! Why didn’t you tell him where I was? He could have come for me himself.”