Jezebel laughed and returned to the wheelhouse, leaving her to sit on the steps and watch the beautiful men as they hauled lines, tightened knots and polished bits of brass to a high shine.
Tink sauntered over and sat next to her. “Still convinced you’re insane?”
“Partly,” Emily replied.
“Partly? You’re in good company!” Tink snickered. “We’re not going straight into Tortuga. Silvestri should be gone, but until we’re certain he’s out for the duration, we’ll be careful.”
“This Captain Silvestri? Mick scowls and snarls when I ask….”
“Mick ain’t reasonable about him. You see, Silvestri’s cursed, and it isn’t safe to fixate on him. Mick danced around that curse for nearly ten years, staying close enough to benefit from it. The curse finally turned on him and Mick got away with his life, but it were close. Mama Lu warned Jezzie that it’s still waiting to land on Mick, but he thinks differently. He wants the Immortal.”
“Okay, what curse? And Immortal what?” Emily figured another pirate story wouldn’t be amiss. She didn’t believe much of what she heard, anyway. Especially the stories about Tortuga. The place must be huge to include everything the crew hinted at. A swamp? A forest full of wolves? A castle on a hill?
“The Immortal is a ship. And years ago, it belonged to Mick’s father. He sailed off one day, and when the ship returned, Silvestri captained it. At first, Mick accepted that his father had returned to England, but then he changed his mind. He won’t say why. Now, the curse—Silvestri is cursed with good luck.”
“Uh huh.” Emily turned to look at the quartermaster, Tink’s job on board the ship. It seemed to be something like a union leader, far as she could tell. “And how is good luck a curse?”
“It’s a curse if it comes at the cost of every bit of good luck belonging to those around you. Think about it! He isn’t welcome to stay anywhere for long. Can’t get close to anyone. Mick managed by dancing close, then darting away—like some insane game of tag. Silvestri knew what Mick was doing and didn’t discourage it. Probably the closest thing the man knew to a friend in decades!” Tink polished her dagger, using a scrap of fabric looped around her belt.
Emily considered the information. “He knows what his good luck costs others?”
“Oh, he knows.” Tink admired the shine of the blade. “It’s not a bad curse, for a pirate, I mean. Most of our good luck comes at another’s bad. But his knows no boundaries—friend or foe pays. His crew seems to be immune, but they are a coldhearted bunch and not much company for the captain.”
Her heart sank. “Oh, what a misery.”
“He doesn’t look wretched, so don’t go feeling all sorry for him! The only one who seems close to him is Mama Lu. The curse is probably too frightened of her to attempt taking payment.”
“Mama Lu is the potion woman? Why would a curse find her frightening?” Emily lifted the bottle at her side and took another swallow. She was drinking too much, but it numbed her confusion—and fear.
“Oh, you’ll see when you meet her,” Tink said mysteriously, then shot to her feet, yelled something at one of the men in the sails and took off, climbing easily to the first cross brace.
Emily envied Tink—her own knots weren’t tight enough to be trusted anywhere on the ship. Helping out by washing dishes each night was not a terribly glamorous way to spend the rest of her life—if she didn’t find a portal home.
She pulled her leather pack close and peered into it. She kept checking her cell phone, some perverse part of her still thinking it might work. Rolling her eyes, she tossed the device back into the bag. Damn, the stickiness of sweat and salt spray coated her body, although she took a clean cloth and wiped herself down every day. They boasted a shower, but were stingy with it. She couldn’t blame them. The sponge bathing helped, but her scalp was driving her crazy. Janey, the bosun, promised her a showering slot if she signed on with them.
Tink said she ought to rent some time in the bathhouse back in Tortuga. “The cash Sam gave you for helping out at the bar is a fair cut. If you need to, you can get new clothes, a bath, and a few things to make your cabin more comfy. If you stay, of course.” The woman laughed at her.
They all appeared to find hilarity in her reactions. But it wasn’t mean spirited. Emily supposed they’d heard attempts to rationalize what was going on many times, from others who fell into this freaking looking glass world…looking glass?
She reached into her bag and withdrew the mirror. Examining it carefully, she wondered if it were somehow responsible for her being here. Not that she fit through this glass. It was too small, and she was too big, and there was no bottle to drink from. Yup, no drink this potion that she remembered.
“Fuck, I’m going bonkers.” She pulled out her scarf and wrapped the mirror.
“Hey, that’s a nice bit of swag.” Mick bent over to examine her find. “May I?”
She handed it to him. “Got it at the fair I was visiting.”
He held it up and stroked the tentacles that formed the handle while admiring himself in the glass. He turned it around. “I like this. Looks like him!”
“Uh…like who?”
“Well, the Kraken! The elder Kraken, of course. They only turn this fine white as they age. The youngsters are still green and a bit slimy….” His voice trailed off at her expression. He tilted his head at her. “Don’t believe me, do you?”
“Okay, I figured it was a Kraken. I’ve heard of the Kraken…but to hear him…her…it referred to so causally is a bit startling.”
Mick handed her mirror back, stepped to the railing and leaned on it, looking out at the water. “Well, you’re right. I’m not sure if the Kraken is a he. Since there are young, seems likely it’s a she.”
“Maybe it’s a hermaphrodite.” Emily snickered at Mick’s startled expression. She noticed it was possible to tell who stepped through a portal and who was born here by how they reacted to certain words. “Or maybe the younger is a clone. Some technology to clone may have fallen here.” She chuckled when Mick tried to look like he understood her. She pushed to her feet. “Never mind, Mick, I’m being silly. You ever meet this Kraken? Is it fierce and hungry all the time, or is it a friendly beast?”
“Depends on whether it had eaten recently. I met a youngster, after it consumed a full meal of sperm whale and it was kind enough to haul my cutter to a nearby island for me. The trick is never assume one way or the other. I was told if you do good to them, they’ll return the favor. That young one could have made me desert, but took me to safety instead, so perhaps that is true.” He eyed her speculatively and set a hand near hers on the rail. He wasn’t flirting, she knew that. He was a touchy-feely sort of man.
“You would be welcome to stay.”
“Yeah, I know. Everyone says so. I have to see if I can get back, Mick. I’m not done with my life there.” She pulled her hand away, spun her wedding ring on her finger and his eyes darted to the movement. Emily stopped immediately. Mick was likeable, but her past heartache wasn’t his business.
He wisely said nothing. She moved up next to him at the rail to gaze out at the sea and thought about Krakens.
Chapter Four
Tink led her over the crest to look down on Tortuga. “Good, I don’t see the Immortal. I’ll send Chester down to let Jezzie know she can bring the ship in. It will take till the late afternoon for her to anchor. It’s a steep path to town, but at least it’s downhill. Let’s go.”
Emily put a hand on her side, gasping for breath. She glared at the tall pirate.
“A bath?” Tink spread her arms wide, posing like she was presenting the prize on Wheel of Fortune, and Emily nodded. She was weary, but the thought of a soak in a tub of hot water gave her energy.
It took an hour to hike down to the city. And it was a city, no small village or settlement. Her eyes scanned where it wound around the steep hillsides, spreading in multiple directions away from the bay. Mist clung here and there, which confused her. Mist? In the tropics? But she
didn’t nag Tink about it. For all she knew, the haze was perfectly normal. And if it wasn’t the case for her reality, was it natural for this reality?
Her head hurt.
But the bath made the walk worthwhile. Tink left her at the bathhouse, saying she’d be back in an hour or two and not to wander far if she finished early. Emily sank into the suds and swore she’d never get out. Every ache from the last few days faded away. She washed her hair three times, scrubbed her feet till they tingled, and lounged until the water grew cold.
Finally, she crawled out of the tub, not terribly eager to change back into her filthy clothes. One of the women noticed her reluctance and offered a skirt for a price. Emily took it, packing the filthy pair of breeches into a ball and using a sash to tie the ball to her belt.
“You have a shirt, maybe?”
“Sorry, luvy. But you can get one down the street. The Silk Emporium is bound to have something you’ll like.”
She probably overpaid for the skirt, but it was worth it. She couldn’t figure out the coins Sam gave her, not for lack of trying. Mick tried to teach her the system, but once he’d shown her a huge coin that he said was worth the least amount of trade value than another of a different color, that he said was worth a lot more…she gave up. Math was not her strong point. Nor was memorization.
She just trusted no one would cheat her too badly. Hell, it was all play money, anyway, right?
She wandered down the road, looking for the Emporium. Tortuga during the day was pretty quiet. She didn’t recognize anything. And this was not the site of the pirate festival. In fact, nothing struck her as familiar.
Once she’d found a new shirt in a lovely old-rose colored silk that caressed her breasts, even when snuggled up tight by her bustier, she kept searching.
She walked for hours, looking for either the Barmy Cock or the stack of hay bales she’d fallen asleep against. As the afternoon approached, she found herself missing Tink.
“Well, crap. I lost her. Didn’t think I’d gone far. And now….” She peered up and down the street, muttering, “I’ve gotten myself lost.”
She didn’t like the energy of this area of town. She turned to see three men eyeing her, blocking the road. With a start, she spun about, searching to the left and right for a way to freedom. A narrow path was steeply cut to one side, but it seemed like a good place to lose them. She dashed, hearing the men behind her.
They shouted at her, promising not to hurt her.
Emily didn’t believe them. She’d seen that expression once, on the face of a man who robbed the bar she’d worked. Her body wasn’t in good shape, but it was downhill, and adrenaline worked to see her get far enough away that she was able to turn and hide in a small, green area. The three bullies tore past and on down the slope.
Still afraid, she sagged against the tree she’d found and tried to compose herself. Her breathing slowed and quiet sobs started. Drawing her knees to her chest, she bowed her head and cried for several minutes.
“What happened, girl?”
She started, ready to dash away when she saw an old woman standing in front of her.
“Oh. I was…chased. Three men were after me. I’m sorry. Am I trespassing?” Emily struggled to her feet.
“Not at all, this is my herb garden, but running from those brutes is reason enough to find shelter here. You come with me, and I’ll give you some tea. It might calm you down. They might come back this way….” She turned and headed through a short gate, concealed by the greenery.
The idea of them coming back was enough to make her hurry after the old woman. The elder was extremely tall, with deep nut-brown skin, and long, gray hair braided down to her knees. This Caribbean must like tall women. Emily followed, eyeing the beads, ribbons and dangles in that braid. Must be hard to sleep on.
“You can call me Louisa, girl. And you?”
Sharp eyes met hers at the door, curious.
“They call me Emily Pawes,” she replied. “Miss Louisa. Or…Mrs…uh, ma’am.”
“Just Louisa. Now, you sit here.” She pointed to a chair cleverly carved from a single log to include some back support. It was surprisingly comfortable. She sat while the old woman brewed tea, using what appeared to be some sort of propane tank and burner.
“Now, you don’t appear settled, Emily. You fresh ta our Tortuga?” Louisa set the teapot down on the table, took a seat, and poured.
“I guess. Does everyone know about these portals and people coming from other times?” Emily asked.
“It be part of who we are, and what Tortuga is. We be an adaptable population. Sometimes people come through that don’t belong here, and they figure it out fast and move back. You one a’ those?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’m trying to figure that out.” Emily sighed and looked away. Those deep, green eyes nailed her like laser beams.
“Tell me where you been? How long you been here?”
She found it easy to talk to Louisa. The old woman chuckled at hearing about the bar and waking up on the Quill.
“That be a good ship to stumble aboard. Most be congenial here and tend ta be careful of strangers. Since it be hard to tell the wolves and sheep apart.”
“The three men that chased me saw me as a sheep.” Emily shivered. “I know that look.”
“Ya gots to learn how to put on the wolf ta not be taken advantage of. So, is Michael still sailing with the Quill?” She maneuvered out of her chair, and Emily jumped to her feet to help out.
When Louisa took her and shoved her toward a mirror, Emily went, staring at her reflection with that old woman peering over her head.
“Now, you see how startled you look? You need to school yourself better and not be such an open book. Those wide eyes, looking around at everything, avoiding mine. You be sending out sheep signals. As bad as standing in the street and saying, ‘bahhhh’.” She smiled crookedly, removing some of the sting.
Emily narrowed her eyes and lifted one corner of her lips in a partial smile to show she understood.
“Ah! Now that ain’t bad! You don’t want ta necessarily lock eyes with those you meet, but focus above their knees. Don’t slump; keep your shoulders back. Get a weapon and learn how to use it. Knife, pistol, staff—it doesn’t matter as long as it’s something you can find confidence in. That Tink knows knives. Michael knows pistols.”
“Any weapons ever cross those portals?” She’d been wondering about that.
“Some sharp blades, but nothing fancier. I sometimes think there is a sort of protection. I hear of some nasty ways to kill from those who travel the portals. Pistols that can fire over and over again, and invisible blades. Nothing we want over here.” Louisa ruffled her hair. “I like how short you keep this. Much easier ta care for then what I got.”
Emily noticed that most women here wore long hair. She supposed it was the style of the day, but it appeared really impractical to her. “Thank you.” She found it impossible to meet Louisa’s gaze. Even as a reflection. “Why can’t I find the portal I came through?” It didn’t hurt to ask.
“I don’t know, girl. Perhaps you don’t want to. What are you searching for?”
“A portal.”
“And what does your portal look like?”
“I don’t know. You mean, they aren’t all the same? Hell.” Emily leaned back to stare at the ceiling.
Louisa laughed and returned to her chair. “No, girl. You don’t know what yours looks like. You have a problem.”
“Maybe I’m not supposed to go back.” Emily sat again and closed her eyes. “I’m terribly confused.”
Louisa took her hand and stroked the fingers. She turned it and gazed at the lines on the palm. “Confusion gonna be your friend for a while. But in the end, I think all that worry gonna be worth it.”
Emily focused on the woman and tried to jerk her hand away, but Louisa held it firmly.
“Don’t hurt ya to listen. Confusion is not a bad thing—it creates opportunity. And you be ripe for fresh cha
nces. Take them, Emily.” Louisa’s stare bored into her. Her skin flushed hot, then cold, before the room blurred.
When Emily woke up, she was leaning against the tree in the green area and the daylight was quickly fading. Damn. Her pack sat at her side. Reaching in, she felt around; seemed everything was there. “Did I fall asleep, have a nice dream?”
Once on her feet, she noticed the note, pinned at eye level on the tree trunk.
Go downhill, make a right at the big oak.
“Well, fuck it. I hope Tink is at the bottom of that hill.” She stretched as she considered the advice Louisa gave her, about standing straight, going eye to eye, and maybe learning some weapon skills. She’d do what she needed to do. She didn’t like being confused, but at least, it left room for hope. If Louisa was right, a chance for change was at hand. Couldn’t get much more changed than this, she thought.
After Tom died, hope disappeared, and life turned into waiting for death, which didn’t make for bright days.
Walking out of the park area, she quickly moved down the path. She hoped the oak would be easy to recognize…. “Wow!”
The massive tree loomed in front of her was the biggest oak she’d ever seen. Even in the fading light, it was easy to recognize. Turning to the right, she observed the light of the setting sun glowing above the water. She’d made it back to the harbor.
But reaching Tink or the ship anchored out in the harbor was problematic. She saw no service available to take her out, and a young lad told her it was suppertime. “No one be available for an hour or more.”
“Great. Well, do you know where the Barmy Cock is?” she asked.
“Up Broad Street.”
“Thanks!” She turned and looked. Five streets branched out and headed up slope. “Uh, which one…?” But the boy was gone.
“Be logical, Emily. That is an exceptionally broad street. I’ll stay straight, and if I don’t find it, I’ll turn around and come back.” Talking to herself gave some small bit of courage.
Shoulders back and standing straight, she started up the hill. The dark fell a lot faster than she’d anticipated, and typically, she brought no shawl or coat. Tink suggested she look for one, but after the bath, the last thing she’d wanted was another layer of clothing. She’d been comfortable and didn’t want to sweat.
The Kraken's Mirror Page 3