I turn to Aris, confused.
Aris looks apologetically at me and clears his throat, but Royce cuts him off. “My ship is in need of repairs. Whatever gold you’re after will have to wait.”
“It’s a matter of life and death,” Aris says.
“Whose life?” Royce asks.
“The king’s,” I supply.
There’s a beat of silence, I think Royce may finally relent and start listening, but instead, he has the opposite reaction.
Royce’s eyes snap upward like he’s pleading with Poseidon himself. “No.” He marches toward the door.
Aris matches him stride for stride and slams his arm against the door before Royce can storm out.
Royce eyes Aris’s arm as if he’s trying to decide if it’s worth the fight.
“You know I don’t work for him,” Royce spits. “He has an armada at his disposal. And despite the fact I’ve never once seen those ships sail to fight the pirates plaguing the coast, his fleet is actually meant for things like this. Let them help with whatever this gold problem is. I have no desire to fill the king’s coffers.”
I’m stunned by his reaction. “You can’t deny aid to the king.”
“What do you think he did during the Orfland Wars, hmm?” Royce asks, his voice hard. “His people were dying, and he stayed locked up safe and sound in his precious palace. I owe that man nothing.”
I want to defend my father, to explain why he couldn’t be in the front lines. But I don’t—part of me knows the curse, and everything that followed, stemmed from my father’s greed. “Please,” I say. “We need your help.”
Royce’s eyes flick to me. “I doubt it.”
My hands go to my hood. I hesitate. But I can’t imagine what having to sail back to the harbor and outfitting another ship would do to my father’s health.
We need all the time we can get.
I lower my hood, and Royce’s eyes follow the movement.
He gasps. “It’s not possible.” His eyes have gone wide. His mouth opens and closes a few times, like he’s trying to work out what to say.
“I’m Princess Kora,” I say, “and my father’s gold has been stolen. His enchanted gold, which he needs to survive. We need to get it back as quickly as possible. The Royal Armada would have taken too long to supply, so Aris offered the use of his ship.”
Royce’s eyes narrow and swing to Aris. He looks shocked, like he’s been betrayed. “Is this some kind of trick?” He’s pale, as if he’s seen a ghost. “Did you paint a girl gold just to fool me? Everyone knows the only thing Midas keeps locked up tighter than his gold is his daughter.”
“It’s not a joke,” I plead. “I really am the princess.”
“Who took the gold?” Royce asks. His voice sounds even colder than before.
“I don’t know. But I can find out.” Desperate, I clamp my eyes shut. The aura of the cursed objects overwhelms me—either we’re getting closer, or I’m getting better. I can just make out the room the gold is in from the light it gives off. All the items are stacked in a corner on a wood floor. A sheet has been thrown over them.
I return to myself, shaking. I’ve never pictured the gold or its location that clearly before. And I don’t even know if what I’ve seen is enough to go on.
“You don’t know who took it, or how many men we’re going to be facing, or even if we’re sailing right into a trap?” Royce asks.
“No . . .” I admit.
He cuts me off. “You don’t know, and yet you expect my men to fight for you, to die for you?”
“I expect them to fight for their king,” I say. I realize too late it’s the wrong thing to say.
Life comes back into Royce’s face as his cheeks redden. “A king that’s done nothing for his people these past ten years? No, thank you. I’ve tried fighting for him before, and it didn’t turn out so well for me.”
“Royce,” Aris says, trying to step between us.
“Stay out of this, Wystlinos. You’re the one who got me into this mess. I agreed to take you out to a merchant ship, a ship that would be easy to catch and deal with.”
“You were willing to help a girl help her father,” I say, fighting to find anything to keep us from losing more time. “That’s still the case here.”
“Going after a merchant isn’t the same as going after a thief,” he shoots back.
“No,” I concede, “but Aris told me how his crew has taken on pirates and cutthroats before.”
Royce doesn’t look convinced, so I say the only other thing I can think of. The thing I know I’ll regret. “You’ll be paid.”
That gets his attention. “How much?”
“Enough to repair your ship and pay your crew for their services,” I say. Already my stomach is starting to churn along with the ocean beneath us. I can’t take that much money from the treasury. In fact, there’s only one way I know of to get enough to pay him off. The thing I promised I’d never do—use my abilities to create gold.
I’ve never been good at reading people, primarily because most people won’t get close enough to let me study their faces, but Royce seems even more difficult than I imagine most are. His stare gives nothing away.
“Please,” I beg in one final attempt, “my father’s life and the welfare of the kingdom depend on us getting that gold back.”
Royce studies me, weighing me with his eyes. “I’ll take your offer to my crew, but I’ll make no guarantees,” he says curtly and leaves.
I wonder if he’ll come back or if he’s just ordering the ship to turn around.
“I’m sorry about Royce,” Aris says, staring at the door. “Bringing me to the palace was his final payment for buying the Swanflight from me to start his own shipping business.” He stares out the window. “I should have told him everything, but I was afraid he wouldn’t help us. As I’m sure you noticed, he has no love for your father.”
“Why?”
Aris sighs. “Do you remember hearing about the incident with the Orfland Treaty?”
I think for a moment before the realization hits me. That’s where I’d heard his name before. Everyone had been talking about the young captain who’d lost the treaty, the one who could have stopped the war weeks sooner. “That was him?”
Aris slowly nods his head. “And me. I was on that ship too, carrying the treaty to Orfland. That’s the document the pirates stole from me that I mentioned in the rose garden. I didn’t want to tell you because I was afraid of what you’d think of me.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
Aris sighs again. “We weren’t far from Port Tamur when we picked up a woman floating in the water. I urged Royce to lock her up, but he wouldn’t. That night, we awoke to the sound of cannon fire. A ship had snuck up in the darkness. Just as the men were rousing themselves for a counter attack, the bottom blew out of our ship. Turns out the woman was one of the pirates, the ones I told you about back at the palace. She drugged the lookout and used one of our own barrels of oil to blow the ship in half.” He shook his head. “Royce and I and a few others made it out, but the ship was destroyed, and the treaty papers were lost. We were lucky the currents took us to Port Tamur.”
“I thought you said you fought the pirates.”
“We did. After we reached Port Tamur, I bought another ship, this ship, and went after them. I gave the death blow to the pirate captain myself. After we got back, though, Royce wasn’t the same. He lost all credibility, and they kicked him out of the armada.”
I can see why, and I can see why Aris wouldn’t want anyone knowing about his involvement as well. That lost treaty almost cost us an end to the Orfland Wars. It took months to get a second copy through, and during that time, rumors swirled about what had happened to the first treaty.
“But if anyone can get your gold back, it’s him. I’ve never known a better sailor or swordsman.” Aris moves closer to the window so that sunlight falls on his face, and he smiles at me, the same confident smile he wore in the palace. “Besides,
I wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for that incident. I first met your uncle when he was investigating what happened to the treaty. Somehow, he knew the truth about my father’s death and encouraged me to come visit you. He thought we might get along.”
Without thinking about it, I move to stand beside Aris. Sunlight hits my face and sends a glint around the room, and he winces as it passes across his eyes.
I duck my face. “I’m sorry.”
Aris lifts his hand to my cheek and lightly touches my skin. My pulse quickens as his fingers trail along it.
“Don’t ever apologize for being what you are.” His smile broadens. A strand of dark hair falls across his gray eyes.
I have the strange urge to sweep it back.
But before I can, the door crashes open.
I reach for my hood but stop when I see it’s only Royce.
Aris drops his hand from my cheek, and we take a few hurried steps away from each other.
Royce clears his throat. “My men don’t want to help a king who lets pirates raid the coast while he sits locked away in his palace with his gold. But”—he pauses—“lucky for you, I need the money to repair my ship. So I agree to accept your offer.”
Relief floods through me. “Thank you, Captain.”
Aris finds my hand and squeezes it.
“I’m still going to need to know how we find the gold, Princess,” Royce says, obviously not caring about our tender moment.
“Of course, and call me Kora, please.” I say, trying to remove some of the tension between us.
He doesn’t respond, so I focus on finding the tapestry. My mind returns to the room I saw earlier, and I struggle to find where it is in relation to our ship.
Finally, I point to the far wall. “That way.”
“Are you sure?”
“Trust her, Royce,” Aris says.
Royce studies both of us and nods.
I exhale. I thought he would demand an explanation for my abilities. I guess as long as he gets paid, he doesn’t care.
He walks back toward the door before turning back. “I’ll expect an update every hour in case they change direction.”
I swallow. Of course, I’ll have to continually check on the gold. Continually let it into my mind. I take a calming breath and try not to think about what effect that might have.
Royce swings the door open but jerks to a stop.
Phipps, I think, and Brus—the one who spit at me on the dock—are outside holding a hooded figure between them. I pull up my own hood and stuff my braid inside so the men can’t see my skin at the same time they pull back the hood of their captive. A mass of auburn curls explodes.
It’s Hettie.
CHAPTER 7
I let out a groan at the same time Hettie does.
“Found this one hiding in a barrel, Captain,” Phipps says. He shoves Hettie into the room. She whimpers and clutches her stomach.
“I don’t want no trouble for disobeying, Captain,” Brus says. “I was all for throwing the girl overboard right away.”
“But,” Phipps cuts in, “I thought you might want to take a look at this one.”
“Do you know the punishment for stowing away?” Royce asks. “I have every right to throw you overboard. Convince me why I shouldn’t.” He waits, poised like a cat ready to pounce.
When Hettie doesn’t answer, Royce strides over and stands menacingly above her. “Who are you?”
Hettie moans in response.
“She’s my cousin.” I push past him, careful to steer clear of the gold on his jacket, and help her stand upright. “Hettie,” I whisper and glance at Royce to make sure he and his buttons haven’t come any closer. “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t think I was going to let you have all the fun without me, did you?” Her face is pale and her fingers clammy.
“Get her some air,” Royce says dismissively. “She’s seasick.”
Phipps scoops his arms beneath Hettie’s and helps her out of the room. Brus follows them with a scowl. I’m pretty sure he mumbles something about two women on board bringing twice the bad luck.
Royce whirls to face me as soon as the door clicks shut. “What’s she doing here?” His eyes have gone from sea blue to sky blue. But it’s not a calm sky; they’re the color right before a storm.
“I have no idea. No one even told her I was leaving.” What could have possessed Hettie to do something so dangerous?
“I don’t . . .” He pauses and clenches his fists. “I don’t like having stowaways on my ship, Kora.” He pronounces my name like a curse.
“I never thought she’d follow me like that,” I say. Hettie is meant for the palace world, meant to have people waiting on her hand and foot—because if they didn’t, I doubt she’d last more than a day. What will Uncle Pheus do when he finds her missing?
“We could take her back now,” Aris suggests when he sees the anguish on my face. “We’d only lose a few hours.”
“No,” I grumble. I know if we take her back, Royce won’t set sail again. We’d also lose too much time. I soften my tone. “She can share my cabin.” The bed tucked against the far side of the room is just wide enough for two, but it’s going to be tight. And Hettie tends to kick in her sleep. Or at least she did when we were children sneaking into each other’s rooms at night after days spent playing in the garden.
Royce frowns, but he doesn’t argue. “I recommend you stay down here out of . . .” He clears his throat. “Out of the sun, while I have a few words with Aris.”
Royce disappears through the door without another word. The movement has such a note of authority. It says he’ll brook no disapproval, no questioning of his commands. I make a note to tell Uncle Pheus about this tactic so he can use it in negotiations.
“I’ll talk to him,” Aris says. “He’ll lighten up.” He has the decency to bow and flash a smile before shutting the door softly on his way out. “And I’ll check on that cousin of yours too.”
I feel a pang of guilt, knowing I should be the one worrying about Hettie, but my head is pounding from the exercise of searching for the gold and dealing with Royce. I promise myself I’ll find her after I close my eyes for a few moments. I flop down on the bed, which smells of sweat and the sea. I press my palms to my eyes. My head is still pounding. I try to relax my mind, to let my thoughts float away with the rhythm of the sea. My breathing quiets.
Then, I’m asleep. Arms encircle me, cutting off my air supply. I know what comes next—the dream, the nightmare, is a familiar one.
Gold crashes against my body. It floods my mouth, weighing me down. I sink into the mattress. I try to fight it off, but my arms won’t move. I try screaming, but my mouth is frozen, my tongue too heavy to lift.
Gold fills my senses until I can’t tell if there are any human parts left of me. Then, with a flash, my vision clears. I’m standing in front of the golden tapestry. It lays jumbled with the other gold objects in the room with the wooden floor I’d seen earlier. Maps hang on the walls. Black curtains block the windows over the bed and table. A man stands over the table holding up a round object and a knife.
He’s so gaunt that I’m not sure if I am looking at a human or merely a skeleton. His completely shaved head accentuates the illusion. As do his cheekbones, which stretch high up his face, as if they’re trying to get away from his thin chin. His eyes recede behind his other features, and his pale skin combined with his dark clothes makes him look even more like a living set of bones.
As he casts his eyes down over the object, a black tattooed skull is visible on each eyelid. He hums while he saws the knife toward the tabletop. It takes me a moment to realize what he’s holding.
A severed human head.
He’s cutting off the flesh and tossing it into a bucket at his feet.
Next to the head is a helmet. And not just any helmet—one of a Lagonian guard.
I gasp.
The skeletal man looks up. His eyes pierce through me before going wide.
Just like that, the vision vanishes, but the feeling of the gold doesn’t. It burns my skin. I scream and claw at it, trying to get free.
My hand strikes something else.
“Kora, calm down,” a voice shouts.
My eyes snap open. It’s Aris. His hands grip my arms, trying to prevent me from clawing at my skin again. Gouges from my nails run down both our arms.
He relaxes his grip when he sees that I’ve come to. “What happened?”
I’m too shocked to speak. The image of the man carving into that head sends my stomach spinning.
Aris sits on the bed next to me and wraps his arm around my shoulders, drawing me closer to the warmth of his body. “Was it a nightmare?”
I shake my head slowly and look at the claw marks on my arms. Finally, I find my voice. “No, I think it was a vision.”
I shudder to think that the more I search out the gold, the more my connection to it grows. How long will it be until the gold steals my every thought, and I end up like my father?
“What kind of vision?” Aris asks. He rubs a hand up and down my arm.
I stare at my hands. “I saw the gold. And a man. He was tall and slender, and he had skulls tattooed on his eyelids. He was . . .” I trail off before I can describe what he was doing.
Aris’s arm stops. He looks down at me, panic in his eyes. “A man with skulls tattooed on his eyelids? You’re sure?”
I nod. “He took the gold.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t just a dream?” Aris asks. There’s desperation in his voice that I don’t understand.
I want it to be a dream, even though it wasn’t. But I don’t want to argue with Aris.
“It must have been a dream,” Aris says resolutely. “The man you’re talking about was Raiktor Hypatos, but everyone called him Captain Skulls because of his sick obsession . . .” He trails off when he sees the look of disgust on my face. “He was the pirate who attacked Royce and me and stole the treaty. But I killed him.”
“Could he have survived somehow?” I ask.
“Pray that he didn’t.” Aris stares off into the distance, as though remembering his encounter. “I’ve never heard of anyone crueler than him. As you may know, he collected the skulls of his victims.” He rubs his neck absently, like he’s imagining losing his own head. “His men got paid based on how many heads they brought him. If they broke one of his skulls, their own head was forfeit as a replacement. I’ve even heard sailors say that if a skull broke because the ship rolled during a storm, the man at the helm got blamed.”
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