Eternal Gambit

by St Clare, Kelly

  “I’m goin’ down to the stream,” Caspian announced.

  Ebba glanced over her shoulder. Was that wise? The question lingered on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it back. “Be careful.”

  “Don’t get caught,” Jagger added. “Cannon was clear about us not goin’ down there. Even if he can’t kill or taint us, I be sure there are other ways o’ keepin’ us in line.”

  “We only agreed that we wouldn’t. We never mentioned the others,” Ebba corrected him. “Best use that loophole if ye’re caught,” she said to Caspian.

  Caspian hardly seemed to hear her. He’d turned, and his eyes were fixed on the passage platform. Ebba twisted to look. Montcroix stood on the platform, looking directly at their cave. He’d regenerated from boiling alive, then.

  Striding to the lip of their ledge beside her, Caspian raised his hand, and then, without waiting for an answering wave, he began down the steps.

  Montcroix stayed where he was for a minute longer, and Ebba tracked his movement as he climbed down the cliff from the passage platform to join the other damned. And hopefully meet with his son. Nerves twisted her gut. She hoped Caspian got whatever closure he needed from his father.

  Peg-leg, Grubby, and Locks were in the cave resting. Barrels was doing the same out on the ledge, lying flat on his back and softly snoring, muttering numbers at sporadic intervals.

  Ebba blew out another breath, watching as Caspian darted down to the stream and as her two fathers still didn’t return.

  “Quit worryin’ yer head,” Jagger said, milling over to her. “I can feel it from over there.”

  She eyed him. He’d found a new tunic in the clothing cases. That was a shame.

  “I’ve tried to stop in the past, believe me,” she mumbled so as not to wake Barrels. “It doesn’t work. I never feel whole without them here.”

  Jagger sighed. “So ye’ll always want yer fathers around then?”

  Ebba cut him a look. “Aye, does that bother ye?” That put her in a conundrum if so.

  He shook his head, saying gruffly, “Nay, I grew up in a similar situation, really, just in a forest. But I want to know if I should be makin’ an effort with them or not. If ye’d just come away by yerself, I wouldn’t have to.”

  She snorted and then choked on a laugh. “That be a very pirate thing to say.”

  “Aye,” he said, a smile ghosting his lips. “It is at that. So, are ye game to walk down the steps a way with me? There be things we need to speak o’ afore ye get violent toward me.”

  Ebba twisted to look up at him. Warm, teasing Jagger was back again, and she was determined not to give him any leeway. “Why?”

  “Ye’ll find out down there. Unless ye’re scared o’ movin’ down the steps with me. . . .”

  She scoffed. “That won’t work on me.”

  He started to sit. “Here will do fine then. I just thought ye might wish to be away from yer fathers for it.”

  She cast a look at the slumbering Barrels and over her shoulder at the cave. Glaring at the pirate, she stood and strode to the steps. “Fine then. Hurry up.”

  He was smirking. She didn’t need to turn around and check to know.

  Seeing as her palms were suddenly slick with sweat and her chest was squeezing to near-panic levels, Ebba took the time down the steep stairway to collect herself. What did he plan to talk about? Was he going to break bad news to her gently? Or explain why he wouldn’t kiss her?

  Nausea churned in her gut. She’d never felt so nervous in her life.

  She stopped a few steps from the bottom and sat, pulling her crimson skirt underneath her when it puffed out.

  Jagger sat on the step above her and leaned forward, dangling his hands over his knees. “Ye never asked me why I’d be takin’ pains to get to know yer fathers.”

  Ebba didn’t answer. She couldn’t trust her voice. She looked ahead at the circle of boulders around the base of their cliff perch, willing her breaths to come evenly.

  He cleared his throat. “The reason I’ll be takin’ pains to know them is because. . . .”

  She stopped breathing altogether.

  “. . . I’m king o’ the crow’s nest.”

  Outrage struck her in the chest. Ebba burst to her feet and whirled on the pirate, whacking him on the arm. “Ye flamin’ sod.”

  Jagger threw back his head and laughed, leaning back on the steps. Always bloody leaning.

  But a burning had begun behind her eyes. That wasn’t funny. Not now. This whole amare thing had really put her in a spin. Why wouldn’t he just tell her one way or the other and put her out of her misery?

  “That wasn’t very nice,” she whispered, her voice wobbling.

  Ebba turned on her heel and descended the last few steps, dashing for the safety of the boulders.

  She only made it to the base of the steps before Jagger grabbed her around the waist.

  “Wait, Viva. Don’t run from me.” He spun her around, and she hurried to wipe away the tears that had fallen.

  His face dropped, and he reached up a shaking hand to her face. “Nay,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to make ye cry.”

  She rubbed her forehead, chest heaving as more tears burst free. “I just want it to be over, Jagger. It hurts too much.”

  He reeled back as though struck. “What? I’m sorry, Viva. I know I just messed things up. What do ye mean by over?”

  “What do ye mean?” Ebba shot at him. “Why are ye stringin’ me along and playin’ games?”

  Jagger stared at her. “I ain’t.”

  She shook her head and made to push past him. “Ye are. And I’ve had enough o’ it. Pirate up and tell me how ye feel. Or sod off.”

  Jagger hooked her around the waist again, whirling her back. “Please don’t run from me, Viva. Let’s talk about this.”

  Her chest heaved as she scowled up at the pirate. “Talk then. This be yer chance. The last one.”

  Watching her closely, Jagger reached up and brushed away her lingering tears with his thumb. The simple touch nearly brought her to tears again. The breath caught in her throat, and she turned her face away from him, squeezing her eyes shut.

  He placed a hand beneath her chin and turned her back. “Let me see those beautiful eyes.”

  “Nay.”

  “Aye.”

  Ebba opened her eyes. Only to roll them at the pirate.

  He held her chin in place, silver eyes intent on hers. “When I touched the amare, I felt sumpin’ warm and powerful, but my immunity dampened it. That didn’t matter. Because when I touched the tube, I felt nothin’ more than I’d already felt for a long time.”

  Than he already felt? She stopped trying to pull away.

  Swallowing, he rushed on, and she blinked.

  He was nervous.

  “I’d been fightin’ it since seein’ ye in that dress on yer birthday. And that’s just when I knew. A part o’ me must’ve realized afore then. Sumpin’ drove me to collect yer beads. Even when I couldn’t see anythin’ else, I could see yer face. Yer eyes. I knew I should protect ye with my own life. That ye were precious beyond anythin’ else. Ye assumed that I continued this quest for my tribe. But that ain’t true. I continued it for ye.”

  Ebba sucked in a ragged breath. She had no idea what to say. His words bounced around her skull, replaying over and over, making her feel as light as a feather. How had he felt so much for so long?

  He mimicked what she’d done a minute before, turning his face away.

  She dragged his face back to hers. Now they both had a grip on the other’s chin.

  “Why did ye fight it?” Ebba demanded. She didn’t like that. Which might have been classed as hypocritical.

  He licked his lips. “For the same reason I won’t kiss ye or touch ye overmuch. I was tainted. I didn’t know I was the immune for a time. I didn’t know if I’d ever be rid o’ it, and I couldn’t risk spreadin’ it to ye. Then I wasn’t sure if the taint had gone. Ye’re meant to be joyful, Viva. And when
ye ain’t, it crushes my very soul. I’d break open Davy Jones’ myself if it meant preventin’ that. I’m furious at myself for makin’ ye cry just now as it is.”

  He breathed as hard as her.

  The pirate released her chin. He still clamped her against him with one arm about her waist, but he brought the other hand to rest against her cheek. In a daydream, she released his chin, gripping the front of his tunic in both hands. He licked his lips, and she traced over his high-boned cheeks, his liquid silver eyes, and the tangled strands of his flaxen hair.

  “Viva, I love ye with everythin’ I have,” he told her, voice guttural. “I love ye with everythin’ I thought I didn’t have left.”

  A lump rose up her throat, but she’d had enough crying for one day. Ebba forced the lump down.

  Jagger hadn’t kissed her in order to protect her. She hadn’t thought there was any valid reason he could give for avoiding that, but he did. Jagger had an answer that Ebba couldn’t even find a depth to. His words, his very tone, stole the ground from under her. They frightened her; astonished her. She wanted to seize that emotion with both hands yet handle it with exquisite care, lest too rough a touch should break the fierce feeling running rampant in her chest.

  A smile curved her lips. A smile she couldn’t have stopped if she’d used both hands and thought of dying birds. She made a sound that was half laugh and half sob, releasing a hand from his tunic to cover her mouth.

  She sucked in a shaking breath and this time fully laughed. With joy.

  “Viva,” Jagger said mildly. “Could ye say sumpin’ soon? Ye’re killin’ me.”

  That smile crossed her face again, but this time she didn’t hide it. Dropping her hand, Ebba let Jagger see it. She laughed again as he all but sagged with relief.

  How did he think she’d felt after shouting her love for everyone to hear?

  “Jagger,” she said, aware and uncaring of the breathy quality to her voice.

  She felt like she’d run for a lifetime and was just slowing down.

  “It’s all very sudden for me,” she told him. “And I can’t say that if I hadn’t touched the amare and then the veritas that we’d even be havin’ this conv’rsation for another ten years, but though it be ac’idental, I can feel the right o’ it.”

  Reaching out, Ebba rested a hand against the pulse in his neck. “Ye feel right. And I feel strong when I’m about ye.” She frowned, thinking of the crow’s nest. “Except when—”

  He flipped her hand and yanked her into his arms. “Let’s stop there, aye?”

  Ebba shut her gob and buried her face against his chest, overpoweringly aware that the tattoos she’d always found fascinating were just on the other side of his tunic. Sometime soon, when all of this was done, she was going to stare at them for a good long time.

  He stroked her dreadlocks, lingering on each of her beads. “Do ye love me then, Viva?”

  “Pretty sure I shouted it out the other day,” she grumbled.

  Jagger chuckled, the deep sound sending a bolt of longing through her. “Aye, ye did at that. Don’t think I’ve ever felt so relieved in my life. And even then, I had to work up the courage to tell ye the same. Somehow I convinced myself ye hadn’t meant it.”

  “I love ye, Jagger,” she told him, pulling back.

  He smiled at her. “Thank ye.”

  “So we’ve professed our love for each other. Do we go back and fill in everythin’ else or what?” she asked, closing her eyes and breathing in the salt-and-rope scent of him.

  He snorted, resting his cheek atop her head. “I can’t say I’ve thought much past kissin’ ye.”

  “Why did ye write the note then?” She pulled back, glaring at him. “If ye weren’t tainted afore, ye’ll be tainted again. Yer eyes ain’t black. I say we risk it.”

  “I won’t be kissin’ ye until I know for sure. Cannon tainted his crew through addin’ a drop o’ blood to the grog barrels. When the tainted pirates’ eyes be black, ye can catch it from their skin, but blood and spit work di’ferent. I won’t risk it, Viva.”

  “What if I be willin’ to risk it?” she countered, nuzzling into his chest.

  “Then I still won’t kiss ye,” he said flatly. “Though it ain’t pleasant to say no when ye look at me all ‘Jagger, kiss me.’”

  Her jaw dropped and she pulled back. “I don’t speak that high.”

  “Ye get all breathless. And yer mouth makes that ‘o.’”

  Her cheeks burned. “I don’t.”

  He quirked a brow and bent his head, resting his cheek against hers. “Ye make me burn.”

  “With want? Or at the stake?”

  She linked her hands behind his neck, savoring the intimacy of his face against hers. It was all the action she’d get until they busted this joint. Just one more reason to escape hell.

  His chest rumbled. “Both, I guess. Ye make me feel desperate love.”

  Desperate love. That was a good description for what she felt. “I second that, m’hearty.”

  “So I think I’ll start takin’ pains with Barrels first. That one really dislikes me.”

  “Barrels?” she scoffed. “He’s a big sweetheart.”

  “Nay, he be a sweetheart to ye. To everyone else, he looks like a savage pirate in fancy dress.”

  Ebba laughed at the image, then glimpsed Jagger’s serious expression. “Ye’re kiddin’ me. Barrels?” she pressed, jerking her thumb overhead to where her father had slumbered out of view. “That Barrels?” She paused and then laughed again. “Ye ain’t afraid o’ my fathers, are ye?”

  “I defeated Ladon single-handedly. What do ye think?”

  “I be thinkin’ that Sal was there to help ye.”

  “Aye,” Jagger’s silver eyes gleamed. “But she used her magic, not her bare hands.”

  Stubby’s voice floated through the boulders toward them. “This uneven ground be hell for my hips. I didn’t even know I had hips until hell.”

  Ebba leaped away from Jagger as though branded, bolting for the steps. “Make smart!”

  “Ye’re not afraid o’ them, are ye?” Jagger mocked her, ambling after her up the steps.

  She caught her giggle at the last second and morphed it into a snort. “If ye ain’t afraid for yer future health, I best be afraid on yer behalf.”

  Reaching the top, she settled next to Barrels, grinning at Jagger when he appeared and leaned against the cliff face next to the cave.

  Stubby and Plank reached the top of the stairs a minute later, and Ebba’s chest loosened. Both looked weary but unharmed.

  “What took ye so long?” she demanded, crossing the space to hug them both.

  “Learn anythin’?” Jagger said. He shot a smile at her.

  What was that for? She smiled back, unable to help it.

  Barrels started, cutting off mid-snore. He rolled over and looked at them all. “Whaz going on?”

  Stubby hobbled around the ledge. “Bloody sat in one place overlong.”

  “We watched the group come in to make sure they didn’t spot Caspian down at the stream,” Plank said, appearing as limber as when he’d left.

  Ebba tensed. “They didn’t, did they?”

  Plank shook his head. “Nay. Anyway, Riot came on ahead o’ the others. Turns out the pirates escortin’ the new inmates had a di’ferent number to report. Cannon was shoutin’ the number three. He wasn’t happy. Shot five pirates after.”

  “There ain’t enough space on the shipwreck for the new ones to caulk, so they’ve set up in the clearin’ and boulders around the ship. We had to wait until they were sleepin’ to get away.”

  That would make sneaking around harder, especially if more of the tainted arrived each day. And if the pirate side of the stream got as crowded as the damned side, remaining untainted would be a true feat.

  “The number’s gone down from yesterday. Four to three,” Jagger said. “What does that mean?”

  Plank scooped up a waterskin. “Nay idea. There be far too many myst’ries f
or my likin’.”

  “Oh,” Ebba said, straightening. “But Caspian figured sumpin’ big out.”

  She brought the others up to speed, leaving Jagger and Barrels to answer their questions. To simplify things, Ebba was just going to think of what was happening as a scale. On one end was evil, and the other side was light, and when evil grew heavier, hell would burst open.

  “None o’ it changes the fact we don’t have the root parts,” she said, interrupting Barrels. “We know Cannon be bustin’ out to take the pillars the parts, but we don’t know how to stop it. How do we prevent bad people gettin’ in? We can’t fight against so many in here. There have to be upward o’ three hundred pirates on just this side.”

  “More than that, methinks,” Stubby said. “With more and more arrivin’ each day, there could be a thousand o’ them in no time. Enough to match the number of damned across the stream.”

  Ebba shook her head. What could they do against such numbers?

  Plank smiled at her. “Don’t worry yer head, little nymph. Today, we know a lot more than we knew yesterday. And if our luck be holdin’ true, we’ll know even more tomorrow.”

  She forced her lips into an answering smile.

  But what if time ran out?

  . . . What would happen then?

  Nineteen

  After collecting the black case of food from the bottom of the steps, the crew crowded around as Peg-leg sifted through the seaweed.

  “Any note?” Locks whispered.

  “Give me a scant second, ye impatient bugger.” Peg-leg rifled a moment longer and then shook his head. “Naught that I can see.”

  Barrels frowned at the case. “There are any number of reasons why Matey mightn’t have gotten a note to us.”

  “But if he doesn’t get a note to us again, we can’t assume he’ll be there to aid our escape,” Jagger said.

  Caspian rasped from the cave, “I figured something else out. Or I think it’s something.”

  Large shadows bruised the area under his amber eyes. Ebba hadn’t heard him return last night. She desperately wanted to ask how things with Montcroix went. One week ago, Ebba wouldn’t have stopped to think otherwise. But despite the truce they’d arrived at, she felt their friendship was out of reach—like there was a boundary between them that wasn’t there before.