The Kraken's Mirror

by Maureen O. Betita

  If she came out of this, she’d be in some serious pain. Then, to have her wake and just surge at him! What was the matter with the woman?

  Finally, he was able to shove her body to one side, free his hands and assess the situation. The little boat still moved, though slower, and the wind disappeared. But the air surrounding them was frigid. Emily remained where he’d shoved her, limp and unconscious. He lifted her face and his hand came away bloody.

  “Oh, hell!” The snapped mast must have smacked her in the back of the head. He carefully examined her skull, searching for the source of all the blood. She’d been cut, but it didn’t seem too bad. She woke up, pushing his arms away. First thing she did was shiver.

  He helped her up, keeping low in the boat, trying to conserve what little heat he could from the outside frigid air. She appeared dazed. “Mick? What the hell did you do to me?”

  “Me? Wasn’t me that kidnapped you! You snatched me!”

  “What the fuck?” She raised her right hand and paled at the raw flesh at her palm. A massive shudder drove through her. She looked up at him and blinked. “Mick? Where are we?”

  He studied their surroundings, almost absentmindedly urging her close to share warmth. He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her nearer, tried to cover her legs with his coat. Hell, she was wearing sandals!

  “I think we’re inside a glacier.”

  “That’s impossible.” She gasped, drawing his attention to the port side. “Is that the Immortal?”

  He twisted, and there bobbed the ship he’d always claimed, anchored and motionless. No one manned the rails. Taking up an oar, he tried to steer them toward her, but the current wouldn’t let them loose. They slid past the ship without a sign from her decks. He cursed.

  ***

  Her brain didn’t want to work. Instead, her thoughts just shot from one tangent to another, none of it making sense. What happened to her? She’d kidnapped Mick? And why the fuck was it so cold?

  Her feet were like blocks of ice. Her hand pulsed with pain, but even that was fading, replaced by numbness. She huddled against Mick fighting for some clarity. She glanced at the tiller, then at her hand and nearly vomited. Her skin stuck out starkly on the frozen piece of wood. How did she do that to herself? Mick picked up a pistol from the floor of the cutter.

  “I held that on you? Is that why you didn’t just stop me? You’re faster, stronger.”

  “Yup. Never said a word. Pawes…Emily…he wrote me. Invited me to come to the southern tip of Bath Island and he’d hand over the Immortal.” He held her close and she appreciated the comfort.

  “Give it to you? He told me, on Tortuga, that he would be gone for weeks, maybe months. You sure it was him?” Her teeth chattered.

  “Right now, I don’t know. There’s the ship, but no sign of him.”

  “Where are we going?” She twisted to look over her shoulder. “Shit!” They were racing toward an ice shore, with no sign of slowing down to make an easy landfall. “Hang on!” She hauled him down with her.

  The cutter hit the shore and ran right up about ten feet; ice and snow flew into the air. The tip of the cutter shattered, wood chips flew everywhere. Mick pushed her off again. “Your landing on me is getting old.” He turned to survey the wreckage. “This boat is going nowhere.”

  “What do we do?” She tried to stand, but her feet wouldn’t hold her. He caught her before she fell. “Mick, I’m freezing to death.” She’d lost the feeling in her feet, her nose, her ears, her fingers were curled so tightly, they all but disappeared in her palms. And it wasn’t helping! Her tits ached fiercely.

  The Immortal was here. Did that mean Silvestri was around somewhere?

  Mick stepped out of the ruin of the cutter. “I might be able to start a fire with the wood chips”

  They were surrounded by a frigid fog. She heard the crunch of feet coming their way. “Mick!”

  He set her down, leaning against his back. It was scant protection, but it was the best he could do. He pulled the pistol, facing toward the sounds. Emily peered from behind him, shivering. Four huge figures loomed out of the mist. Mick softly cursed.

  “We…uh…come in peace?” he said. The bravado he normally spoke with was absent.

  Emily tried to focus on them. Huge men, wrapped in layers of fur. One of them gestured to Mick.

  “Come with us.”

  Luckily, Mick was smart enough not to resist. He tucked the pistol away and turned to Emily, who promptly fell on her face.

  She heard him, sounding muffled and it was if he spoke from a distance.

  “She can’t walk, and she’s nearly frozen….”

  She heard deeper voices conferring and soon she was bundled up in a fur and in the arms of one of the giants. She drifted asleep. At some point, she woke again, when Mick was bundled into the fur with her. The cold must have gotten to him. The giants rigged a hammock and the two of them clung together for the rest of the journey.

  ***

  He’d little luck with Glacious. She delighted in keeping him guessing about the last year. Each birthday, he came to her ice palace and she ripped the memories of the year’s victims of his curse from him. Seldom a pleasant occurrence, he left the palace determined to provide her with nothing to feed upon the next year. A resolution he never managed to keep.

  Not from lack of trying.

  This year, she insisted on entertaining him for days on end. He’d adapted to the cold and managed the wait, hoping Mick would show up. It was a trick, but one he hoped the man would fall for. If the appeal for a truthful meeting worked, Mick would show up, riding the current he’d bound around the cutter. Once Mick arrived, he’d have a short time to convince the man to work with him. Possibly no more than the time it took to walk from the shore to the palace, if Glacious sent him to fetch the visitor. It was a menial task she’d take delight in assigning him.

  If Emily was right, it was possible to convince him. If he couldn’t use sentiment, he’d offer to pay the man.

  When Glacious summoned him from the hot spring, he dressed without enthusiasm. She knew the spring was the only thing keeping him from freezing to death. Undoubtedly, she’d attempt to entice him into eating again. Eating too often at Glacious’ table was hazardous to the soul. He’d smuggled some light rations with him when he came ashore. The crew remained on board, in the hold, safe from meddling. Or more meddling. He knew they were held under some light enchantment. Otherwise, why stay with a cursed man?

  He followed the messenger, a female creature of Glacious’ magic. Formed from ice and snow, she wore almost no clothing. Nice to admire, but nothing pleasant to touch. He’d learned that long ago.

  She opened the great door and stood to one side. He nodded politely and entered the great hall. At one end, Glacious stood, gazing out the crystal window toward the open bay where his ship bobbed. The palace was poised high above the icy harbor, a long climb up a steep, slick path.

  She turned at his entrance and he stared, unable to look away. A beautiful woman, hair an icy blue that fell to her knees, eyes so black they put midnight to shame. And a figure that he’d once found incredibly desirable. Age tempered that desire. He admired her beauty still, but knew those looks held nothing but the cold at the heart of deepest ocean trench. Colder.

  She smiled, and he shuddered.

  This visit, she wore a gown of deep grey, arms bare and hair flowing free. Sometimes she braided it into intricate whirls and cascades. She never revealed her legs.

  “My dear Captain, we have company! Isn’t that delightful!” She gestured at the door, even now opening at her command. “Two ragged vagabonds caught by the currents. I’m so pleased. I do adore entertaining.” She raised an eyebrow.

  Two? Damn, had Jezebel come with him?

  Her giants held a bundle of several furs between them. They set it down on the ice.

  “Oh, unwrap them, Alan dear.”

  She stood nearby while he knelt and peeled back one layer, another. A familia
r hand made him catch his breath. So small…that ring? He swallowed the balloon of fear growing in his throat and revealed the couple. Rage roared into blood. Emily, asleep in Mick’s arms!

  Fighting to hold back the urge to tear Mick’s arms away and haul him from the woman he cared for, he reached across her and poked at Mick.

  Mick’s eyes jerked open, and he shot upward. Silvestri gripped his throat. “Not one word. Trust me.”

  The anger in Mick’s eyes matched his, but when Emily moaned, the anger switched to concern for her.

  Mick broke free and pointed to her. “She is desperately cold. Her hand is injured. You bastard!”

  Silvestri kept his eyes on Mick, willing the man to understand the danger they were in. He hissed. “Mick! Kill me later…look around you, man!”

  Mick sat back and studied the surroundings. And he got it. His body took on that lazy attentiveness he used to employ when they’d wandered into dangerous places. He took in the surroundings, the pure white of carved ice and snow, and the woman standing a few feet away, exactly as she’d been described to him years ago. When they were friends and talked deep into the night. Would he remember?

  Alan took a breath, Mick’s eyes slid to his, and a minor nod from Jezebel’s lover reassured him.

  Glacious moved closer, looked down on the Emily’s pale form, trying to pull the furs back around her body. It frightened him, how fragile she appeared.

  “Poor thing. She looks quite worn out—perhaps it would be kindest to let the cold take her.”

  The icy voice, pretending at a concern he knew she was incapable of feeling, fired Alan’s blood. He slowly stood and bowed to her. “My Queen, that would be one course to take. Another would be to allow this poor sailor and Captain March time in the hot baths to recover. You often complain that no one visits. You’ll have three to entertain, once she has recovered.”

  “Ah, good point, Alan. Very well, escort these two…wait! Captain March? Oh, my. You’ve spoken of him. Claimed familial ties as an excuse to block your curse from taking him down when he attacked you. I see little resemblance.” She took a step around him and faced Mick, who rose at the words.

  Mick stood perfectly still while she ran an icy finger down his face. Alan knew what that felt like, and admired his standing her touch without reacting. The line of confusion between his eyes smoothed out, and he actually winked at Glacious, lifted a hand and gently took hers in his, pressed a light kiss to her knuckles. “Ah, the Lady Glacious. Silvestri spoke of you, also. But his descriptions did little to address your true glory.”

  “You marked my knight and never paid for it, Captain March. A daring thing to even attempt. I look forward to conversing with you later.” She turned and stared a moment at Alan, a cold, calculating expression on her face. Much different than the lovely simplicity she’d shown Mick.

  Silvestri fought not to shiver. But she drew one long powerful tremble from him. With an arch smile, she blinked, turned to leave the great hall. “We dine in an hour.”

  Silvestri bent and eased Emily into his arms. “Follow me, Mick. Speak quietly—these chambers have ears.”

  Mick pulled a scarf from his pocket and rather awkwardly worked to bind Emily’s raw palm while they strode from the hall.

  “I remember your stories about her. I thought them fancies, I admit. My God, she’s beautiful.”

  “Yes, and this palace is beautiful,” Alan answered, loud enough to be heard. He lowered his voice. “Why is she with you?”

  “It’s more that I am with her. She tricked me into a cutter and knocked me unconscious, tied my hands. She wasn’t awake, Silvestri. She woke up right before we entered this delightful place!” From a matching whisper, he let the last few words ring out.

  Alan looked down at Emily, shivering in his arms. “Damn it. She did it. Somehow the icy bitch did it. I needed you here, but I didn’t want Emily to come with you.”

  “I savvied that. You claimed me a family member?” Mick tucked her injured hand close to Silvestri’s sleeve. “Nice trick!”

  “No trick. You are my brother, Mick. It’s the truth. I can’t go into it right now. Help me keep Emily safe. And when the time is right, stand with me to bring the Kraken into this place.” Silvestri turned to see Mick staring at him. “I swear on all I hold dear—on this woman, in my arms—I am speaking the truth.”

  “Yes, but about what.” He raised a hand and waved it about. “Never mind. I understand we are in a perilous situation. The Kraken? How will we escape, Silvestri? I like my skin.”

  “The Immortal stands ready. Help me, I have a plan, straight from Mama Lu. After, take Emily and I to Tortuga, and the ship is yours. If I don’t survive, swear to me you’ll see her there. Either way, I am done with the ship.”

  They reached the hot springs, a cave of black rock in the midst of the ice. Mick took a deep breath. “Reeks of sulfur, but it looks hot. Thank God. She needs something warm to wear after she leaves the pool. And food. This meal, will it be enough to help Emily?”

  “Eat little at her table, Mick. It will freeze you.” He set Emily gently on a stone bench and pointed to a chest. “Provisions are there, from the Immortal. They are safe to eat. I’ll have appropriate clothing sent. And boots. Dear God, her feet!” He tried to pry the tattered sandals off. One disintegrated in his hands.

  He knew Mick was watching and calculating while he took care of Emily. The man always proved masterful at assessing situations and adjusting to them. He pulled open the chest and hauled out a small sack of apples, along with a wrapped package of cheese and pork. Breaking the pieces small, he coaxed Emily into eating while Silvestri stripped off her clothes. She ate, but showed no real awareness of her surroundings or who fed her.

  It irked Alan to grant Mick such liberties with Emily’s body, but it was the only practical thing to do. He turned to Mick, who was enjoying one of the apples. “Strip—you’ll need to hold her in the water.”

  “She’s your woman. You do it!” He looked toward the bubbling water with some disdain. Mick shared the sailor’s normal dislike of bathing. Silvestri never did understand that.

  “I have to get back to keep Glacious diverted. Make certain clothing is sent, prepare for the two of you to dine! I don’t have time to see to Emily.” Damn, he hated admitting that to Mick. “Don’t be an idiot. It won’t hurt you to get wet!” Alan snorted. “I would have thought Jezebel cured you of this dislike of bathing.”

  “That’s Captain Jezebel to you.” Mick set the apple core down with a sigh. “Fine. Her hand will start to bleed.”

  “I’ll be sure to fetch a good wrap for it. The sulfur will sting, but it’s healing. Hurry, man! She’s ready!” He cradled Emily on his lap. “Where is the pendant I gave her? I asked her to never take it off. It might have kept her safe.”

  “Probably in her pocket. She’s fingered something in there for days.” Mick made quick work of his clothing, took one step down into the water and grimaced. “Give her here.”

  Reluctantly, Alan handed her over. Mick spoke softly into her ear, stepping deeper and deeper into the water. Alan looked away, taking up the ragged breeches and searching the pockets. He found the Kraken’s pendant and considered what would be best. He lifted Micks’ coat and slid it deep into one of his pockets.

  Emily uttered a sharp cry and cursed.

  He spoke, the pool to his back. “Make sure she puts the pendant on, Mick.” He hurried away.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Fire! Her feet were dangling in hot lava! Have to get away from flames! Have to get away!

  “Easy! You’re all right, Pawes! Pawes! Stop fighting me!”

  Slowly, his voice got through. The pain in her feet faded. Warm—she was warm again.

  Her head fell back, and her eyes opened. Above was only white, but she could smell sulfur…and steam? She blinked and felt a shoulder under her head. She turned her face and recognized Mick, felt his bare chest at her back.

  “What the fuck?” She tried to mo
ve away from him, but his arms held her still and wouldn’t let her move away.

  “Nope, wake up more first. I don’t know how deep this spring is, and don’t need you to drown. Relax. I’m going to ease your hand down into the water, and it’s going to hurt like hell.”

  “What? Why?” Her head hurt, and suddenly her head was fine. Her hand! Shit! “Let me go!”

  This time Mick released her. She stepped away, onto a slick rock under the water and slipped. She inhaled a mouthful of water before Mick hauled her out again. She came out facing him. “You’re naked!”

  “Yes, it’s the most common way to bathe.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Your hand?”

  “Hell.” She raised it to her eyes and winced. “What did I do to my hand?” A faint memory rose of a cutter and cold wood.

  “Froze it to a tiller, then yanked it away. Sorry, Pawes. We’ll wrap it when you’re warmed up. And your feet?”

  She blinked, wrapped one arm up around her bare breasts and lowered herself further into the steamy water. “Okay, they sting, but getting better. Mick, how did I get to a hot spring?” She looked everywhere but at him. “Where is here?”

  Mick sighed. “Silvestri brought me. At least I think that was the plan. You weren’t supposed to accompany me. But Pawes….” He leaned forward, whispered, “We’re in danger in this place. It’s the birthplace of his curse. The bitch who tricked Silvestri fifty years ago has us too close for comfort. Alan has a plan. I can’t go into it, but follow our lead, savvy?”

  “Alan is here?” She looked around. “Wait. I was on the ship…a cutter? I dreamed, a freaky cold nightmare.”

  “Love, I think you were possessed. Now, you have to stay calm and you have to hold close every bit of anger, fear, anything! You give her any lever and she’ll use it. Got it?” He reached out and touched her head, drawing her closer. “Nothing. Blank slate. Wait, and you follow our lead!”