A Touch of Gold

by Annie Sullivan

  I stroll to the railing and look out to sea. Already the golden pools have reverted to darkness, and the cliffs are fading into the distance. When I look down at my hands, I see my skin sparkling slightly in the moonlight. I pull off my gloves, wincing a little at the fresh wounds from the rope. At least the salt water has cleaned them nicely.

  Cool wind rushes between my fingers. I wiggle them, letting them play in the breeze.

  Has it really been ten years since I’ve felt this sensation? Or any real sensation? I stare down at my deflated gloves resting on the railing. I pick them up and weigh them in my palm. They’re so delicate. So easily torn apart. I used to believe the same of myself.

  Without thinking about it, I heave my gloves into the ocean. They tumble into the waves and are quickly swallowed.

  Those certainly aren’t my only pair of gloves. I have at least another six sets, but at the moment, I don’t care.

  I lean against the railing, running my fingers across the wood. It’s weathered and rough and in need of repair. Yet it feels wonderful. It feels alive. I run my hands along it, feeling each crack, smoothing down each splinter. I trace a finger down a nearby rope, pressing against each coarse strand.

  I realize I don’t even remember what a human hand feels like in my own. And then I realize I want to find out.

  I’m not going to let my gloves hold me back, and I shouldn’t let the ghost of Aris hold me back either.

  I search for Royce among the crowd. I spot him leaning back against the mast with his arms folded across his chest, an amused look on his face. When he sees me watching, he pushes off and comes over. “No gloves?” He raises his brows, but doesn’t look afraid.

  “Not for now,” I say, already picturing carrying the gold off Captain Skulls’s ship.

  “Gloves and Temptresses in one day.” He smiles. “I’m impressed.”

  Royce leans on the railing next to me so that our arms are touching. I can feel the heat radiating off his body.

  I shiver.

  “You’re freezing,” he says. “You should head downstairs and change out of those wet clothes.”

  I shake my head. “Not yet. I want to see the sunrise. It’s always been my favorite time of day.” And today it means more than ever. Today, I survived more gold than I’ve ever seen.

  He looks down at me. “Why’s that?”

  “It means the nightmares are over.”

  He nods knowingly. Then he seems to remember something and digs in his pocket. “Here.” He holds out what I think is a strand of pearls.

  As I pick it up, the pearls unwind, and the center bauble comes into view. It’s a thin seashell no longer than my pinkie. Lines of pink and yellow stripe out from the center. The back is cast in silver, no doubt to make it stronger.

  “The shell is called a sunrise tellin,” he supplies. “I thought someone who loves the sea as much as you do should have one.”

  I run my finger across the shell’s glossy surface. It’s the smoothest thing I’ve ever felt.

  “It’s the only item I did grab from the Temptresses’ lair when Rhat and Hettie were climbing in because it reminded me of you, like a sunrise on the outside and strong on the inside.” He shuffles his feet, strangely nervous.

  My eyes go to his. There’s no way he could know how much this means to me, how it makes me think of my mother and all the seashells I collected after she died.

  “I like it very much,” I manage.

  He holds his hand out for the necklace. The pearls clink together as I pool it in his palms.

  His fingers brush against my neck as he gently collects my hair and swoops it to the side. He loops the necklace around me before securing it.

  For the first time, metal touching my skin doesn’t feel slimy. The silver doesn’t feel like it’s going to melt right off and absorb into me.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  He smiles, and we fall silent as the sun rises quietly into the sky, trailing pinks and purples behind it. A morning breeze accompanies the dawn, and I shiver again. I tuck my fingers under my arms to keep them warm.

  “If you insist on staying out here, the least I can do is help you stay warm,” Royce says. He pulls off his jacket—a simple gray one with no gold, I note with relief—and drapes it over my shoulders.

  It smells like the ocean, wild and yet familiar. I pull it close as we both turn to watch the sunrise.

  “Thank you,” he says after a while. “For saving Rhat. You could’ve cut the rope and gotten out of there, but you didn’t. It took real bravery to make that decision.”

  “I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I took him from Hettie.” I glance over to where the two of them are still dancing, though now they just sway in one another’s arms. “I’ve never seen her so happy.”

  “At any rate,” Royce continues, “I know Rhat and the crew won’t soon forget it. They value loyalty above all else. They’ll do their best to get your gold back.”

  His words remind me we’ve only recovered two pieces, and there are nine more to go. My eyes close on instinct to seek out the gold, and even before I open them again, I know I won’t find Royce standing in front of me. The scent of spilled wine overpowers my nostrils.

  I’m in Captain Skulls’s cabin once more.

  He stands by the window drinking out of a golden chalice, the mate to the one now on the Swanflight.

  Seeing his pale lips on one of the cups my parents used to toast their wedding makes fury rise through my body. He sips deeply and turns toward me, only looking mildly surprised to see me standing on his ship.

  The empty eyes of all the skulls around the room bore into me.

  “You’re alive.” A grin spreads across his face. “I was so afraid I’d have to find a way to best the Temptresses myself in order to retrieve your skull. That would have been terribly inconvenient.”

  “I defeated the Temptresses,” I say, straightening. “Now I’m coming for you.”

  Several of the skulls’ jaws click and clack as the ship moves, almost like they’re talking. I shudder at the sound.

  “You won’t get the gold without a fight.” The captain puts the chalice down on a small table next to him. “You’ve never been in a real battle, Princess. You’ve never seen the lifeless eyes or heard the moans that escape the lips of your friends when they’re lying there with swords through their chests.” He takes several steps closer. I hold my ground. He can’t hurt me in this form. I think. “If you agree to surrender, I’ll let all your friends go free. I’ll even give back your father’s gold. All you have to do is promise to work with me.”

  I look away, noticing the floor of his cabin is stained with blood. Almost every plank of wood has been dyed the rusted color. It’s darker under the table. But it’s no dye that turned those boards. If I bring the men to face him, how many of them would end up in here, either as a game of sport for his men or as part of his collection?

  My stomach recoils.

  I imagine Hettie in the hands of his crew. I can’t let that happen.

  I also can’t trust Captain Skulls.

  “No deal,” I say. “You won’t hold up your end of the bargain no matter what I agree to.”

  He frowns, making his already narrow face look even longer. “I was afraid you’d be this way.” He steeples his fingers under his chin. “After my men kill the crew you travel with, you’ll be much more amenable. If you’re not, I’ll drop every single piece of your father’s gold into the deepest part of the ocean I can find. Then you’ll never get it back.”

  “You wouldn’t,” I stammer.

  He laughs. He moves toward the table, picking up the golden necklace. He pushes open one of the windows and dangles it out. “Why wouldn’t I, when I know you can make me more?”

  “I can’t turn things to gold,” I say. My heart leaps into my throat. I fight to stay calm, to not give him reason to suspect I’m lying, as panic at seeing the necklace swinging above the waves sets in.

  He lets
the necklace slip farther through his fingers. “That’s not what I’ve heard.” He swings the chain back and forth. “Now, run along back to the Swanflight and tell Royce he can find me where we met last time near Port Tamur, the time he thought he killed me. I am growing tired of this game of cat and mouse. I’m ready to see what you can do.” He picks up the golden chalice once more and takes a swig.

  I know Royce won’t like the meeting point. But neither of us seem to have any say in the matter, especially since I can’t risk not meeting Captain Skulls, lest he dump the rest of the gold in the ocean.

  “We’ll be there,” I say.

  “Good,” Captain Skulls replies, pulling the necklace back inside and tossing it on the table. “I’ll see you there in about seven days. I’ve got to make a little stop first.”

  His golden teeth gleam as he grins.

  Immediately, I let the cabin fade as I focus on the cup and coin.

  I wake to find myself collapsed in Royce’s arms once more.

  His blue eyes are focused on mine. It’s almost blinding how bright they are compared to Captain Skulls’s. The ocean breeze drags strands of his hair across his forehead.

  “Are you going to make a habit of this?” Royce asks, a smile playing about his lips.

  “I’ve got a message from Captain Skulls.”

  He sobers instantly and helps me to my feet.

  “He wants to meet.”

  “Where?”

  “Where you almost killed him last time off the coast of Port Tamur.”

  If the news disturbs him, he doesn’t let it show. He simply nods, accepting it.

  “What else did he say? Did he give any clues about what he’s planning? He’s always planning something.”

  “He wanted me to surrender. He said he’d let everyone else go.” Even though I know I can’t trust him, the offer is tempting. I’d give anything to keep Hettie and Royce and Rhat and my father safe.

  “He’ll double-cross you faster than you can blink.”

  “I know,” I say, sighing. “I didn’t agree to his terms.”

  He places his arm on my shoulder. “I knew you wouldn’t. Now we just have to find a way we can all get out of this alive when he outguns us nearly two to one.”

  “He won’t use his cannons,” I say, “not while I’m on board. He won’t risk it. He wants me alive.” Then another thought kills my newfound joy. “But we can’t use ours either. We can’t risk sinking his ship while the gold’s on it.”

  “We’ll think of something,” Royce tells me.

  I hope he’s right.

  CHAPTER 25

  The sea stretches out wide around us. The world has melted into one blue sphere, darker below, lighter above, and melding in the middle. Every other color seems brighter in comparison.

  The only thing that stretches on longer are the days.

  Everyone seems to feel it.

  Thankfully, Royce and Hettie haven’t given me much time to stay idle. A week isn’t much time to learn fencing basics, but I’m trying.

  At least it keeps me from worrying about my father. I visit him nearly every night, spending as much time as I dare by his side before returning to my body. I pretend that my presence gives him strength, just like sitting by his gold once did. I can’t physically touch him in my visions, but I place my hand over his all the same. I tell him about our voyage and how we’re getting closer to the gold each day, and I end each visit by planting a shadowy kiss on his forehead before fading back to the ship, to where my own body is bruised from training.

  “You’ve got to keep your shoulders back like this.” Royce adjusts my posture once more, turning my shoulders gently toward where he’d been standing a moment ago. Thankfully, the claw marks from the Temptresses have all but healed.

  “Again,” he says, taking up a position across from me.

  We’re using broken pieces of blunted wood from the ship as makeshift swords since Royce thought real blades would be too dangerous. I tighten my grip on the polished piece I’m using as I plan my next attack.

  Hettie and Rhat watch from the railing, resting after their own bout, which Hettie won.

  I leap forward, driving my wooden fragment toward Royce’s. He steps back, absorbing my blow with his and tripping me at the same time.

  Somehow, he still manages to catch me around my waist before I slip backward.

  “See,” he says, still holding me in his arms, “I can show you how to block a move a thousand times, but pirates aren’t going to fight fair. You’ve got to think more about your surroundings, about what you’re not defending.”

  He sets me on my feet. “Again.”

  He’s by far the most aggressive teacher I’ve ever had. He doesn’t stop pushing me even when sweat streaks down my face like molten gold. I wipe it away and raise my weapon.

  I charge forward as I did last time, and I can see the disappointment in Royce’s face as I repeat the same move he just criticized. It changes to surprise the instant I drop to my knees and swing at his calves, a move I’ve copied from watching Hettie.

  “Ouch,” he cries, hopping on one foot until the pain eases.

  That elicits a chuckle from Rhat and a cheer from Hettie.

  “Weren’t expecting that, were you?” I grin.

  Royce shoots Hettie a look and rubs his calf. “Better.”

  I get back into position. This time, Royce doesn’t hold back. Our weapons meet in the air with a loud smack.

  While we’re vying for control, I wink at him. It’s another trick I’ve learned from my cousin—she has no qualms about using her femininity to distract Rhat when they fight.

  The move has the same effect on Royce. He pulls back just a little, and while he’s distracted, I grab the smaller piece of wood tucked into the back of my shirt that’s meant to represent a dagger. I ram it into his ribs.

  He doubles over, dropping his mock sword. It rolls across the deck, where it’s stopped by Rhat’s foot.

  “Okay,” Royce wheezes, straightening. “I think that’s enough for now.”

  “Maybe for you,” Rhat calls. “I want a rematch, and this time, no winking.” He puts his hands on his hips and stares at Hettie.

  She holds her hand up innocently. “No winking. I’ve got it.” Then she moves forward and smiles deviously at Rhat. “You didn’t say anything about kissing though.”

  Rhat smiles and sweeps her into his arms, pressing his lips against hers.

  While he’s distracted, Hettie slips her own makeshift dagger from her belt and rams it into his side.

  “Ouf.” Rhat stumbles away.

  “Rule number two,” Hettie quips. “Never take your eyes off your opponent.”

  “My eyes were most certainly on you,” Rhat says.

  “They were closed.”

  “Oh, were they?” Rhat replies. “Better check again to be sure.” He shoves his face toward her.

  “No, stop,” Hettie cries through bouts of laughter. Once Rhat actually succeeds in kissing her, Hettie shoves him away. She tries to hide the smile on her face but doesn’t succeed. “You’ll pay for that,” she says.

  “I hope so,” Rhat says as Hettie leaps at him with her makeshift sword.

  They begin moving back and forth across the deck, exchanging blows.

  Royce rolls his eyes at the scene. “Can you believe those two?”

  I laugh. “I never would’ve pictured them together, but they do seem to work.”

  “Not the hair, not the hair,” Hettie shrieks as Rhat pulls her backward for another kiss.

  I shake my head at them, then I flex my bare fingers after holding the wood for so long. Cuts still crisscross my palm from the glass in The Cat’s Cradle and from pulling the rope back at the Temptress’s lair.

  They don’t look like the hands of a princess anymore.

  Royce notices and takes the weapon from me. “We’re not pushing you too hard, are we?”

  I shake my head. “I want to be ready to face Captain Skulls.”


  “As do I,” he replies. He lets his weight rest on the railing.

  “How’d you beat him the first time?” I ask.

  “The last time we met,” Royce says, sweeping hair away from his face, “he fired one small shot directed at my hull. We would’ve slowly sank, but he made one small miscalculation—he was expecting me to have a larger ship like I did before. The Swanflight sits much lower in the water than his. He aimed too high and missed the hull entirely.

  “But,” he continues, “I’ve been thinking this time, we could turn the tables on him and shoot first.”

  “What about my father’s gold?”

  “If we fire one well-placed cannonball, we could effectively sink his ship without sinking it immediately. It would give us plenty of time to get the gold and get back to the ship. He wouldn’t be able to follow us then because he’d be taking on too much water.” Royce becomes more animated as he explains, “If we get the first shot in, he’ll also be even less likely to open fire because he’ll know his ship will never make it back to port. He’ll have to try and take the Swanflight. All his men will be forced over to our ship, leaving his ship abandoned. We’ll sneak aboard and get the gold and then move the gold back to our ship and finish off Skulls and his crew.”

  “You’re sure the ship won’t sink before we can get to the gold?”

  “I’ve seen my fair share of sinking boats,” he says. “We’ll have time.”

  It’s so risky, but it also seems like the only way because Captain Skulls could so easily do the same thing to us—shoot out the hull and force us to scramble over to his ship to survive.

  “I just wish we had more men,” he continues. He shakes his head, causing more loose strands to cover his face. “Last time, I had nearly double what I have now, not to mention Aris. Whatever his flaws, he’s a master swordsman. He must’ve taken down at least five of Skulls’s crew. Although, maybe that was all an act.”

  Royce leans against the railing and lets out a sigh. “I tried so hard to help him. I told him there was good money in sailing. I got him a commission on my ship, but he didn’t want a life of hard work. I just never thought he’d see turning to Skulls as the answer to his family’s money problems.”