I laughed, feeling almost high on the warmth that she’d given me. A sorry substitute for emotion, but it felt good to have something fill the hole in my chest. I nestled closer to her and pointed up at the sky.
“How much do you know about constellations?” I asked.
Lottie’s shoulders moved. “I know the North star,” she replied. “I’m not sure of the names of any, but my father taught me how to navigate the sea using the shapes. Like that one.” She pointed to our left.
I nodded. “Those three right there? That’s called Orion’s Belt. And those,” I added, “are called The Big Dipper. See how it makes the shape of a pot?”
Her twinkling blue eyes stared for a moment before they widened. “What about that one?”
I spent a while just laying with my friend, teaching her all the constellations I knew, enjoying her presence. The comfort she unknowingly offered. She was still clearly weighed down by her immense grief, and rightfully so, but I could see the minuscule signs of her healing. A hint of a smile. The purposeful, deep breaths she took.
When I had no more stars to name, we laid there in silence for a good while. Until the chill of late night crawled over our skin. We never left, though. Only inched closer together. Finally, she spoke.
“You can go now, you know,” her voice barely a whisper in the breeze.
“What do you mean?”
“I know you’re thinking about staying for me.” Her fingers wrapped around my upper arm. “I’ll be alright. I’m not quite there, but I will be. Someday.” She shifted to look at me and I immediately got sucked into that haunting gaze of blue and silver. “So, you do what you need to do, to get back to Henry and those babies.”
The words registered in my mind, but I picked up on something else in her tone and my stomach tightened. “You’re not coming, are you?”
She pursed her lips. “I can’t, Dianna. The sea…” She stroked a hand over her flat stomach. “It’s taken so much from me. I can’t bear to sail it again.” Lottie sat up then and looked behind us where the massive Keep towered in the shadows. “I think I’ll stay on land a while. See if it does me any good.”
I took her hand in mine. “I can’t blame you. If I get back, I’m not sure I’ll ever let the kids near the water again.” We squeezed one another’s hands and let a look of understanding pass between us. If I could muster it, I’m sure my eyes would have filled with tears. “So, this is actually goodbye then.” Lottie only nodded. The tears I wanted to feel myself glistened in her eyes.
“You know,” I said, not wanting to leave just yet. “I’d never had friends before.”
She reached over and plucked a piece of hay from my hair. “None?”
“Not really.” I gnawed at the inside of my cheek. “After losing my mother, everything else seemed so trivial. So…pointless. I thought, why bother when the potential loss could hurt me so much?” We stared at one another for a few moments. “I’m glad I bothered with you.”
A weak attempt at a chuckle died in her throat, but she held a smile.
“I love you, Charlotte Roberts.”
Her smile spread wider. “And I love you, Dianna White.”
To hear my chosen name spoken in this time brought a tickle to my throat. I no longer wore the burden of the Cobham name. Not in this time or the next. I wanted to feel that emotion, wanted to let it fill my chest with a fiery spark that should spread up to my eyes. But all I had was the rational thought of knowing I would feel it again someday. If I were to succeed in my mission. It gave me a rush of confidence that I could do this, I could sail across the ocean and journey to the Caribbean to save my soul. I could get back to where I belonged.
I just hoped the loss of my emotions wouldn’t get in the way.
Chapter Five
It took Freya and Finn only a few days to ready a ship for us. But it may as well have been a few years for how long it felt to me. Every second that ticked by was a second too long without my family, without knowing what they were doing or thinking. I worried about what Henry might do in my absence. What crazy lengths he might be going through to save me.
But I didn’t need to saving. Except from myself. I shook the thought from my mind and continued pacing about my room, packing my scarce belongings. I just needed my soul. Once I had that, Ingrid swore the Keepers would send me back.
I’d spent the time waiting by trying to focus internally, to try and figure out what I’d done under that tree. How I seemed to have just…turned off my emotions. It’s not that I felt dead inside, I consciously knew how I should feel in any given situation, I just couldn’t seem to locate the feeling inside. Almost as if my emotions had been locked in a box somewhere. I tried everything; breathing, meditating, even calling upon old memories I had of the kids. Their birthdays, vacations, their first words. Simple but important moments that should evoke a tear or two.
But I had nothing. Just that dark, insatiable, nagging feeling that pulled me toward something I didn’t know. Like being led in the dark, blindfolded.
A knock at the door startled me, but a deep breath and a glance out the window to the carriage below told me it was probably just someone letting me know they were ready to go. I opened the door to find Lottie.
“You ready?” she asked.
I took one more look around my room. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
She motioned for me to follow. “I’ll walk you out.”
We walked in silence through the winding halls of the Artair Keep. I took it all in. The plaques, the medieval art, the oil paintings of Finn’s family–especially the ones that had him in it. A young buck. So handsome and proud in every single one. Despite his father’s oppressing thumb, Finn somehow stayed true to himself and never let it change him. In a time like this, a world so unforgiving of such things as being gay, it was more than admirable. Had Henry and I chosen to raise the twins in the past, their Uncle Finn would be someone I’d be honoured to have them look up to.
Lottie came to a halt on the wide stone steps out front while I continued down the few short stairs toward the carriage. I turned one last time to look at her and she let a kind smile spread across her face. But her eyes widened as she glanced over her shoulder, something inside the house catching her attention.
By the time she whipped her head back to me, and her mouth gaped urgently, Freya appeared and brushed by Lottie on her way to the carriage. She wore an emerald-coloured cloak over brown leather attire. Hilts of tiny daggers adorned her legs; her waist hugged with a thick belt that held a rather enormous sword at her side. That fiery red hair tied down in a long braid that cascaded all the way down her back. She plunked a leather satchel down near my feet and gave me a cheeky smirk as she stood in wait.
“Are you coming?” I asked and tried not to sound as surprised as I felt.
She straightened those wide shoulders of her and flashed those meadow green eyes. “Who’d ye think was goin’ to sail the ship?” Freya fixed her stare on Lottie. “Be sure to keep a close on things.” My friend nodded dutifully, but her cheeks reddened when her eyes landed on mine. “Very well.” Freya motioned to a young woman I didn’t recognize, and the girl came over to fetch the bag at my feet. “Let’s get goin’.”
I stepped into the carriage after Freya and Finn. Benjamin clambered in behind me, along with three female deckhands. The large carriage sank under all our weight, but when the driver flicked the reins of the horses, I pulled back in my seat and we were off.
With nothing to really say, I stared out the window and let myself get lost in my own thoughts. Freya was going to sail the ship down South. If this were a few years ago, that notion would have ignited some kind of jealous anger in me. Some territorial reaction. But all I had now was my rational mind to depend on, and it told me it was okay. This wasn’t my ship, wasn’t The Queen. And it wasn’t my crew, either. The three deckhands Freya brought along appeared more than able-bodied with their Amazonian heights and toned arms. I knew they could help steer our course. But, again
, they weren’t my crew. They were Freya’s, just as the ship was. I didn’t have to captain it at all.
The relief was almost palpable.
The ride to the docks was bumpy and quiet as we all sat and contemplated the next ten weeks of our lives. Ben tried several times to engage me in conversation, but I was all too aware of Freya’s watchful eye. So, I kept the chit chat simple and when he realized I wasn’t in a talking mood he turned his attention to Freya. She happily lapped it up; laughing at his jokes and touching him any chance she could. His arm, his leg, a pat on his chest.
I just continued to stare out the window and think of Henry and the kids. Painted their faces in my mind, carved out every detail. The sharp line of Henry’s pink lips, his rough but gentle hands, and the way they felt against my skin. How the thick blonde hair he kept long would tangle around my fingers when I wrapped my arms around his powerful neck. And the kids…the smell atop their heads, the little pudgy arms holding me while I held them, their smiles, the way those dark eyes–just like their father’s–sparkled with childlike wonder.
If this worked, I’d see them soon.
When the carriage finally stopped and we all filed out the small door, I stood and stretched my legs as I took in the sight of everything. The docks lined the small shore of what looked like a narrow inlet. A handful of small fishing vessels bobbed on the surface of the water, while one larger ship sat waiting near the end.
“That’s her,” Finn spoke as he leaned into me and nudged his shoulder to mine. “Lady Brianna, named after me Ma.”
It was a good-looking ship, not as large as The Queen, but more than fit for the wide-open sea. Six portholes lined each side of the vessel made of some kind of warm, rich coloured wood. Two masts towered above, sporting cream-coloured sails. The word Lady Brianna sharpened into view the closer we got, and I stopped at the plank that bridged the gap between the dock and the ship.
The deckhands carried goods onboard and Freya followed them with Ben and Finn in tow. So I trailed after them all as I tugged at the straps of my leather bag. When our modest group of sailors were all standing on the deck, Freya gave the girls some orders before heading off to the captain’s quarters, but I caught the cheeky look she flashed toward Benjamin before she entered her room. I rolled my eyes and turned to Finn.
“Can you show me where my bunk is?”
“Of course, lassie,” he replied happily and waved me over. “Follow me.”
Without prompting, Ben joined us, and we lowered ourselves down a ladder hatch to the decks below until Finn led us to a narrow hall lined with half a dozen doors.
“Here,” he pointed for me. “This be yer room. And this one,” he smacked his palm against the door next to mine and looked at Ben with a foolish grin, “is yers. I’m goin’ t’head up and ready us for push off.”
Benjamin nodded gratefully and let his large duffel bag fall from his shoulder as he looked at me, both our hands on the knobs of our doors. We paused and let a strange, unspoken weight pass between us. We knew what was ahead, the dangers and the risks of what we were doing. The sea had never been kind to either of us yet, still, we ran to it. But it was the only way to get my soul back, and we both knew it. We both sucked in a deep breath and then entered our separate bunks without a single word uttered.
My room was small but roomy, with enough space to move around comfortably. My bunk nestled in a built-in wood frame and was dressed in heavy woolen blankets and furs. An empty chest sat open and waiting for me to fill it with my belongings, but I just plopped my bag down inside it before sitting on the edge of the bed. A small table held a washbasin on top and a chamber pot underneath. Was I ready to spend ten weeks stuck inside this room? At least as captain, I would have had duties, responsibilities, something to occupy my mind. If I was going to do this, I was going to need a job.
I left my bunk and headed to the upper deck in search of Freya, hoping she was still in her quarters. I knocked at the thick wooden door and waited for her reply on the other side. When her voice rang out, I entered. She stood behind a beautiful desk carved from the wide trunk of a tree and sat down as she looked up at me.
“Dianna,” she said. “I trust yer getting’ settled?”
I nodded. “Yes, thanks.” I stepped further into the room, noting the elegant draperies around the enormous bed, the stacks of books, the open trunk that sported weapons of all kinds. “I just wanted to ask if there’s something I could do aboard the ship while we sail. A job? A regular task?”
Freya eyed me curiously. “What can ye offer?”
“Well, I’m actually a fairly skilled cook.”
She nodded slowly. “Yes, that’s right. I ken ye like to be in the kitchen.” She shuffled some things on her desk. “I dinnae see why not. I’m bettin’ yer cooking be better than Aleery’s anyway. She favours her plain meat and boiled potatoes. I reckon it’s all the lassie can cook.”
We both chuckled, but the sound was hollow in my chest. I cleared my throat, unsure what to say next. Freya just stared up at me expectantly.
“Uh, I guess I’ll get going then,” I said and turned to the door. “Oh, and thank you.”
“Fer what?”
“For…everything, I guess,” I replied. “For accepting us into your home, helping us when we needed it. And now, providing this ship and transport down South. I’m not sure I can ever repay you.”
Freya waved her hand at me and shook her head. “’Tis what decent folk do, is it nae?”
I gave a single shrug and gripped the doorknob. “Still, I’m grateful.”
Just as I was about to close the door behind me, she called out. “There is one way.”
I came to a halt and backed up into the room. Freya stood from her chair and came around to the front of her desk where she leaned against it. She crossed her arms.
“Anything,” I replied.
Her freckles almost disappeared behind the rush of crimson that spread over her cheeks. “I fancy Benjamin very much.”
Unsure where this was going, I shut the door and took a deep breath. “Yes, I’m aware. Ben’s a great guy, one of my best friends.”
“And I’d very much appreciate it if ye would keep it that way,” she told me.
Confused, I stepped closer. “You do know that I’m married, right?”
“Aye,” she said and heaved a sigh. “I ken yer married to Captain Barrett. I just wanted to affirm that ye remembered it, too.”
What was that supposed to mean? A sting of anger touched the bottom of my gut, but I pushed it aside. I would not fight with this woman about this. Not here, on her ship. “Freya, I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, but Ben is one of my closest friends on this earth. And I’m happily married to an amazing man, the same man I’m desperately trying to get back to.”
Her chin raised for a moment as she seemed to consider her next words as carefully as I did. Finally, she settled into a mask of a smile. “Of course. I meant nae offense. I just hope to pursue things with Mr. Cook, and I want to make sure the line ye’ve drawn stays uncrossed.” When I didn’t reply, she continued. “It’s no secret to anyone with a set of eyes that he’s madly in love with ye, Dianna. Clearly ye ken that.”
My stomach clenched. “Yes, I’m aware. But Ben and I have an understanding. It’s what makes our friendship so strong.”
“Aye, well.” She shoved off the desk and stood, towering over me. But not in an intimidating way. More of a…insecure way. Hidden beneath her powerful will. I wondered then if Freya had ever pursued a man before. “We shall see. Ten weeks is a long trip.”
My mouth hung open, ready to counter her worries with more assurances, but the door behind me opened and Finn came stomping in.
“Sorry t’interupt ye,” he churred, “But I need a word with me sister before we set course.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. It’s no bother.” I caught Freya’s eye across the room and held it for a moment. “We’re done here.”
I felt her eyes on
my back as I walked away, even after I shut the door behind me and headed across the deck.
This was going to be a long trip.
***
A few days at sea and the hours were already blending together. I kept myself busy during the day, bustling about the generous kitchen. Preparing meals, cleaning, keeping my hands busy. I was grateful for it, for the idle work, just as much as the crew seemed to be grateful for the decent meals I provided.
I considered it all a blessing because at night when I retired to my bunk and succumbed to the drags of sleep, I entered a whole new world. One full of darkened shadows and eerie whispers. This was the fourth night in a row I stood in an empty room. No windows, no doors. No way in or out to speak of. The tendrils of a dream tugged at my subconscious from all around, firmly planting me in the unknown place while I awaited the same nightmare that haunted me each night.
The surrounding air stopped as if frozen in time, and I knew what was about to happen. The same thing that every nightmare had brought me for the last three nights. In the far corner of the room, a cloud of black smoke crept in through the cracks n the wall. Fluid and beautiful, like ink in water. It crawled toward me, screaming silently through the air until it touched my skin and immediately my back arched. The darkness seeped into my pores, leaked into my body, and took residence where my soul used to be. I could feel it swirling around my insides, wreaking havoc on everything. Tearing at the walls of my stomach, squeezing my heart until I gasped for breath. I couldn’t move, couldn’t cry for help. I knew it was only a dream but, still…fear rose in my chest, igniting the deadened flesh where emotions used to live.
My screams fell on no ears because I was always alone. But this time…I sensed another presence. I peeled my eyes open and squinted through the dark swirls of ink, but found no one. Just the empty room filled with my own screams of agony. But beneath that, the faintest sound of whispers reached my ears, and I embraced the darkness to lesson my cries so I could hear the sound.
The Cursed Sea Page 4