I shake my head and stare into the dark water. The ripples have stopped their uneven dance, and still, he hasn’t surfaced.
I hear more footsteps pounding toward us, but I’m frozen. My future is tied to Aris. The world won’t start again unless he’s in it. I don’t feel the breeze. I don’t smell the smoke from the fire. I only feel coldness seeping through my skin and heading straight for my bones, for my heart, as I watch the water.
Every glint of moonlight feels like a betrayal, sending jolts of hope through me that Aris might be surfacing. But that’s all they ever are, bits of light that can’t even penetrate the darkness of the sea, that can’t bring Aris’s light back into my life.
“We need to go,” Royce says, coming up on my other side with blood dripping from the tip of his sword.
“We have to go in after Aris,” I say, my voice rising with panic. I kneel on the dock and hunt for any signs of life.
“If he hasn’t resurfaced by now,” Royce says, “he’s not going to.” His voice is so cold, unfeeling. “You won’t find anything in that dark water anyway.”
I stare into the inky depths. Royce has to be wrong. There must be some way to find him.
A jolt of hope shoots through me. “The coin. Aris has the coin.” I shut my eyes, and instantly, the tainted gold tugs at me, begs me to come closer.
There.
I swing my arm around, pointing to where the light of the coin burns the brightest.
I open my eyes, and I’m pointing directly at Royce.
My heart stops.
He stares down at me, unblinking.
“You . . . you have the coin.” It comes out as a statement, though I can’t figure out how.
Royce slowly removes it from his pocket. It glints invitingly in the moonlight. “I thought it was safer that I keep it, so I took it from Aris when we collided on the last dock.”
I shakily rise to my feet; there’s nowhere to go. I stare down at the water as much to look for Aris as to see if it offers any escape, but I’m likely to end up like the man with the goatee.
Voices call down the dock, and I’m vaguely aware that they’re shouting at me. About me. About the reward the tavern owner offered for my capture.
“We have to get back to the ship,” Royce says, tucking the coin back into his coat pocket.
The dock shudders under the weight of additional bodies as more men race toward us.
I can’t breathe. I can’t move. My mind is churning faster than the tide. So is my stomach.
Rhat once again heaves Thipps over his shoulder.
“We have to go,” Royce urges.
“No.” I attempt a steadying breath. “We can’t leave Aris. They’ll tear him apart when they find him.” And they will find him. I won’t let myself think about the alternative. “We can’t leave him here.”
“That’s what he gets for becoming involved with pirates.” He reaches for my arm.
“Don’t you have a heart?” I yank away. “He used to be your friend. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“I wouldn’t have wasted time standing here if it didn’t,” he shoots back. “But it’s too late for him. We can still make it to the boat, but we’ve got to go. Now.”
“I’m not leaving without him.” I glance to where the men are searching the dock we’d just left.
“Captain . . .” Rhat says in warning.
The boards under my feet rattle as the mob gets closer. The light from their lanterns is starting to reach us.
“We’re out of time.” Royce grabs my arm and pulls me down the dock. We rush past the fallen bodies of the men who’d attacked us. Some are groaning in pain. Others are still.
“Please,” I beg Royce, “I’ll turn anything you want to gold. Please go back for him.” Tears stream down my face. “Please—he could still be alive.” Even as I say the words, I stop struggling and let Royce lead me away. If I go back, I’ll be taken prisoner. I’ll be abandoning Hettie and my father. And Aris would want me to get away, even if it’s with Royce. At least Royce wants me alive.
I can only imagine what the men will do to Aris if they find him. They’ll torture him. They’ll probably even kill him. All because he knows me.
My body goes numb at the thought.
We stumble into the longboat as Phipps and the others frantically toss supplies in.
I don’t feel the edge of the boat dig into my side. I doubt I’d even feel it if I absorbed gold.
Royce shoves off just as the men catch up with us and leaves them standing on the dock. I block out their shouts. I stare at the water instead, looking for any sign Aris is still alive.
CHAPTER 18
Royce takes his seat in the boat opposite me.
“Did you get everything we needed?” he asks Phipps as though he hasn’t just left a man behind to die.
“Aye, Captain,” Phipps says. He pats the massive amount of sail filling up the majority of the longboat. If he finds it odd Aris isn’t with us, he doesn’t mention it.
None of them do.
“Where’s Thipps?” Phipps asks.
There’s frantic movement in the boat followed by a gasp when his eyes land on his brother’s body, laid out on another new sail folded in the front of the boat. I look away.
“He saved the princess,” Royce says quietly.
“No,” Phipps whispers. He falls to his knees next to his brother’s form. “Thipps. Come on, Thipps.” He pulls on the collar of his shirt, yanking him up. Thipps’s head rolls backward.
“He’s gone,” Royce says in a gentle tone I’ve never heard from him before.
“No. No.” Phipps scans the crew like this is some joke. His breathing grows more haggard with each face he seeks out. He shakes his brother. “Wake up.”
“I’m sorry, Phipps,” Royce says.
Phipps smooths back his brother’s hair. “He can’t be gone. I never got to tell him he really was better at playing the accordion.” His voice grows sharper, louder, with each declaration. “He doesn’t know that I cheated whenever we arm wrestled. He didn’t . . .” He breaks down into sobs, clinging to his brother’s shirt. “I never told him he was my better half.”
“He knew,” Royce says. “He knew you loved him.”
Phipps’s knuckles have gone white where he grasps his brother’s shirt. “No.” His sobs cover the boat and leak out over the water. They rip through my ears and threaten to tear the rest of me apart, to break loose all the cries I’m holding in for Aris and for Thipps.
I clamp my hands over my ears, but that does little to dampen the sound. Each pain-filled cry lodges in my soul all the way back to the ship.
The island has become nothing more than a spot of light in the distance by the time a ladder clatters down the side of the ship. Men begin climbing and hoisting up the new supplies. Phipps wails and snaps at the sailors who try to take Thipps’s body from him. He yells until they allow him to carry it himself. He struggles under the weight but slowly makes it up the ladder. Eventually, only Rhat, Royce, and I are left. I sit there with my arms crossed.
Rhat climbs up, and Royce rises to hold the ladder steady for him. Once Rhat reaches the top, Royce gestures for me.
I’m half tempted to knock him overboard and row the boat back myself to look for Aris. But who knows what I’d find at this point. And I’d still be leaving Hettie behind.
I stand and move toward the ladder. I pause at its base. “People have always called me a monster because of my skin,” I say, “but you’ve proved you’re a real monster.” I jab a finger at him to illustrate my point. “I’m going to spend every moment of the rest of my life making your life as cursed as mine.” I can practically see the coin glowing through his jacket pocket. Could I get to it before he is able to stop me? If I succeeded, I’d turn him to gold right here.
“It had to be done,” Royce says.
I sneer. “You were only waiting for the right opportunity. I heard you and Rhat talking after we left Lagonia. You wanted a pe
rfect way to be rid of Aris, and what better way than to leave him behind?”
He rubs his forehead, refusing to even look at me. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know you wanted to wait and see what I could do, what I was worth alive, but I’ll never turn anything to gold for you.”
“Is that what Aris wanted?” The small boat rocks back and forth as he leans forward. “I’m not him. I know gold won’t make me happy. It might buy me a new ship, but no amount can buy me a loyal crew or bring back the men I lost to Captain Skulls. So you can keep your cursed gold. I never wanted it.” He sits down hard, sending the boat reeling.
I plunk down to keep from falling overboard. “What do you mean you don’t want the gold?”
“I only accepted your proposal because it meant I could shadow Aris. I thought if he had you, he’d lead me straight to Captain Skulls. I could finally get my revenge and my place in the armada back. I could finally prove Aris was the one who sunk my ship under Skulls’s orders, that he was the one who lost the treaty.”
He stares up at the stars. “I almost had it tonight too. That man with the two Xs on his head—I know he was part of Skulls’s crew. He could’ve vouched that Skulls and Aris met up several weeks before we were set to carry the treaty.” He shakes his head and stares at his lap.
I feel like I must still have gold in my ears. “Aris didn’t sink your ship.”
“Is that what he told you?” He finally musters the energy to meet my gaze.
I don’t believe him. Yet there is so much pain behind his words, so much anger.
“How do you think he knew about this island?” Royce throws his arm back toward the fading lights twinkling over the water. “I hadn’t even heard of it until a few weeks ago, when he claimed he had traced the woman who blew up my ship to here, knowing I’d bring him if there was any chance that woman was still around. Now, since I never found the woman on the island, I fear he met with Captain Skulls, probably to finalize his plans for robbing you before we sailed to your kingdom.
“So your cursing me won’t do any good,” he continues. “It seems I’m already as cursed as my father was. Looks like we have that in common.” He leans against the edge of the boat as it jostles a few feet away from the ship.
“You’re lying,” I say. Royce has given me no reason to trust him in the past week, whereas Aris has always been kind, attentive, and honest. I can’t doubt him. Not now. “And you certainly don’t know anything about being cursed.”
Royce laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Not all remnants are physical, Kora. I’d gladly show you my journal full of every detail, every pain, every nightmare caused by watching my own father be buried alive under a never-ending pile of gold.” His features have taken on a pained sharpness. “But I’m pretty sure Aris burned it or threw it overboard just to spite me.”
“That happened to Aris’s father.” I cross my arms over my chest. “You think he was too ashamed to tell me about it? He wasn’t. And I hope Triton or Poseidon or whoever rules the seas sinks your ship a thousand times over for ever claiming it was you.”
At this, Royce looks surprised. “That man has no shame.” He shakes his head. “What else did he tell you? Did he tell you why he spends so much time at sea? Was it because his mother can’t bear to look her own son in the eyes because every time she does, she only sees her husband?” His voice rises. “Did he tell you about the time he found his mother throwing everything of value from the house in the middle of the night because she thought it would bring him back?” He’s practically shouting, and there’s a wild look in his eyes. “Did he describe what it was like having to explain to her every morning that her husband was dead because she refused to believe it?”
My eyes go wide, and my mouth hangs open. But I don’t know what to say.
“If he wanted my past so badly,” Royce rages, “he should’ve been the one to explain to my mother that all the servants left because they wouldn’t be paid in cursed gold. He should’ve been the one who had to drag his father’s coffin by himself because no one else would touch it for fear of catching the curse.” He raids his pockets, coming up with the coin he’s always rubbing. “He should be the one carrying around a coin from a cursed treasure to remind himself that every decision he makes carries great weight. So he can know how one moment of weakness can ruin so many lives.” He pitches the coin into the bottom of the boat. It clinks away under the benches.
Royce’s lips form a tight line. “I’d gladly have given Aris those memories if he’d take the pain with them.”
I’m speechless. I think about the journal tucked under my pillow. Whose words have I been reading? Those of the ever affectionate and vibrant Aris or those of the broken man in front of me?
“I wanted to warn you about him, but I didn’t think you’d believe me,” Royce says softly.
“You’re the one who was talking about killing me and seeing what my powers are,” I retort, though my heart isn’t in it. In fact, my heart may be breaking.
The anger is gone from his voice, replaced by exhaustion. “What you overheard was Rhat and me trying to reason out what Aris wanted with you. If he was only after the gold, we thought he would’ve killed you already, so we figured he was after whatever powers you have. That’s why I asked you on deck that one day what your curse entailed, but I can see why you didn’t share that information with me now—I was trying to puzzle out what he wanted you for. And we knew then we needed to get him off the ship, but we couldn’t figure out if you were working with him. But when you volunteered to go to the Island of Lost Souls, I figured you really did want to save your father, especially since Aris was so against going—probably because he knew he’d be recognized this time.”
“But you were talking about ransoming me.”
“Not you.” Royce shakes his head. “Aris. That suggestion was Rhat’s attempt at humor—he knew I didn’t want Aris to die, yet at the same time we couldn’t exactly let him go until we had proof.”
“But you said he was broke . . .” I let the words whither before I can imply the same applies to the monarchy.
“His family’s been broke for years. Why else do you think he took up with Skulls in the first place? He’s a Wystlinos.” He puffs out his chest in a mock imitation of Aris. “He’s always thought he was too good for physical labor. He’s always taken the easiest route. That’s included a lot of drinking and gambling instead of working, which is probably why he was jumped before I got inside The Cat’s Cradle. He likely owed them all money.
“And it’s no wonder he fell in with Skulls’s crew given all the time he spent at the taverns. I’m sure he was promised a substantial cut of everything Skulls plundered while the armada was away defending the country during the Orfland Wars. That’s why he sold out his country and his friends to keep the war going by arranging for Skulls to steal the treaty, to keep the armada from returning to protect the coastal cities. If I’m right and Captain Skulls is still alive, then Aris doubtless owes him for botching up the treaty job by letting a second copy get through. I just need the proof, proof I might’ve had if Aris hadn’t knocked out the man who attacked you.”
I go over his words, looking for the flaws in his explanation. “Aris’s family isn’t broke. His family throws more lavish parties than the palace does.”
“Did you attend any of them?” he asks. When I don’t reply, he continues. “Once the money ran out, Aris simply told lavish, made-up tales about what happened at his supposed parties and told everyone the guest list was very exclusive—so exclusive, in fact, that no one was actually invited but you. Sure, once or twice when he won money playing Seascapes or through some other means, he’d actually throw one to keep up the pretense. But you got invites to parties that never existed to make it look like he still had money. He knew you were never going to come. It was all a sham. Everything about him was a sham.”
“No,” I breathe. I’m not sure what I’m denying anymore. “You’re t
he one who wants my father’s gold. You promised it to your men.”
He shakes his head, sending his hair cascading forward. “I only did that to save you. If I hadn’t promised them payment, they would’ve mutinied. Most of the sailors don’t even know about my father’s curse—they’re men Aris hired when Captain Skulls destroyed my last ship. I’ve been trying to save up to hire a new crew, but with repairs and other setbacks, I haven’t amassed much. I never actually would’ve given them the gold.” When he looks at me, his eyes are pleading. Honest. My stomach flips over with every jolt of the boat.
Could Royce be telling the truth?
My mind flashes to every moment I’ve spent with Aris, from when he wasn’t scared to offer me his arm to when he kissed me a few hours ago before going into The Cat’s Cradle.
But there are other moments. Ones I pushed aside. Like when he’d snapped at me to stay out of his argument with Royce. Or when he’d said we were as cursed as my father. If his own father had been cursed, would he really say that about mine? And on the island, he’d suggested making our escape without Hettie. He said the gold was more important. He’d even lied to Royce from the beginning about why we needed his ship. Were those moments of weakness—of trying to protect me—or were they slips of his true character?
Could he really be that conniving? As conniving and strategic as he was during Seascapes, a game he could play without giving away any hint of his true strategies?
I don’t want to believe I was so easily duped. He cared. Didn’t he? He told me stories about Jipper. He danced with me. He was going to show me the world.
Or expose me to it.
The thought hits me, sucking the air from my lungs.
But he’s the one who held me when I had my first vision of Captain Skulls.
And the one who told me not to tell Royce.
I bite the inside of my lip.
Aris is the one who wanted to go back to Lagonia at every setback—after discovering Hettie aboard and after the storm. Was he trying to protect me or slow me down?
Did he cut the sails loose and slash holes in them?
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