by Elle Cardy
When Jasmine reached Finn’s door, she gave it a hesitant knock.
“Leave the food out there. I’ll collect it later,” came his voice through the door.
“It’s me. Jasmine,” she added in case he forgot.
The door flew open, and there stood Finn, unshaven and disheveled. The shadows under his eyes had deepened, and he’d lost weight. She wasn’t sure which Finn she had. The angry one, the disgusted one, or the frightened one. She hoped it was the one who loved her. She was afraid to find out, so they just stood there and stared at each other.
Finn broke eye contact first. His gaze fell to the bowl in her hands. “That for me?”
She thrust the bowl at him. “Brusan says you haven’t been eating.”
He took it and stepped aside. Was he making room for her to enter? Should she? She wasn’t in the mood for a fight. She hadn’t come here to justify herself. Her power was an inseparable part of her. If he didn’t like her power, then he didn’t like her. That thought made her regret taking him the food. She should’ve told Brusan to deliver it himself.
“Please, Jasmine,” he said. “Come inside. We need to talk.”
She stepped inside, and he closed the door. His room was in as bad a state as Finn. The bed was unmade, his clothes were strewn about, and dirty bowls were loosely stacked by the door. Books and papers cluttered a desk. It wasn’t like Finn. He’d always been fussy about cleanliness. She resisted the urge to run her fingers over his stubble.
Finn swept to the desk and started tidying. “Sorry about the mess. It’s just research. Books and scrolls I borrowed from Marcelo.”
“Don’t clean up on my account.” She sounded light and relaxed, but she was nothing of the kind. A nip of rum would’ve done wonders to wet the desert that had become her mouth.
Finn stopped tidying and sank into the only chair in the room. “I’ve been foolish.”
Jasmine wanted to agree but didn’t want to stop him from saying whatever was on his mind. She couldn’t jump to conclusions and assume he’d meant he was foolish about pushing her away. Maybe he’d meant he’d been foolish about starting something with her in the first place.
“You look like you want to chew off your nails as well as your fingers.”
Jasmine thrust her hand behind her back. Without success, Brusan had tried to beat that bad habit out of her.
“Here,” Finn said as he cleared a space on his bed. “Take a seat.”
Jasmine thought about resisting and changed her mind. She sat on the edge of the berth and waited for Finn to say whatever it was he needed to say.
He let out a soft sigh. “I keep forgetting that your only wielding trainer when you were still young enough to learn new skills was Captain Kahld.”
She wished she could forget Captain Kahld ever existed.
“Of course you would have skills I wouldn’t know about. I bet you wouldn’t have a use for half the things you learned from the man. You probably don’t even know what skills you have. There’s a wielder in the Opana division of the Order who’d be able to read exactly what you could do.”
Opana was a land-locked town in the mountains a long ways south of Auslam, so it seemed certain she’d never have a need to go there. She still made a mental note to avoid the place.
Finn laughed.
Jasmine didn’t laugh with him. If he knew she could still learn new skills, he wouldn’t be laughing either. Because Kahld was a Learner, she was too. Again, she found herself wondering what Finn would do if he ever discovered the truth about her.
“What I’m trying to say is,” he said, “I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to judge.”
“But you’re afraid, yes?” She didn’t know why she asked this question when all she wanted to do was hide.
Finn grinned, making his eyes sparkle. “You don’t need to hide from me.”
Jasmine muttered an oath and forced herself to become visible.
“Yes, I’m afraid,” he said. “Afraid for you, not afraid of you.” He rose from his chair and sat beside her on the bed. His body radiated warmth. “You have a huge amount of power, yet your control over it isn’t always so … honed.”
Jasmine rolled one shoulder. He could’ve said her power was chaotic and uncontrollable. He could’ve used the word dangerous. Any of those words would’ve been true.
“And while you are nothing like the man you learned from, you do need to learn his self-control.”
His self-control before he went mad and nearly destroyed them all.
Jasmine shook her head. “You said months ago that I can’t learn.”
“You can’t learn new power, but maybe you can learn to control the power you do have.”
He’d said maybe.
“And if I don’t?”
“Then your life could become more complicated.”
She loved the way he understated the situation. Her life was already more complicated than it should’ve been for a simple crewmate on a trade ship. But, of course, she wasn’t a simple crewmate and never would be. She was a wielder who struggled to control her power, letting that power control her.
“How do I learn?”
“Marcelo seems to think meditation might help.”
Jasmine jumped to her feet. “You’ve spoken to Marcelo about this? He lied to me about what happened in Oakheart.”
“I asked him to.”
Jasmine couldn’t believe what she was hearing. While she had accepted Finn’s apology over the lie about the silencing, she hadn’t expected this.
“I didn’t tell him to lie to you directly. I just didn’t want you to know I’d silenced a wielder. Admittedly, he didn’t need much convincing.”
“He can’t be trusted.”
“Of that, you are right,” Finn said. “But he is knowledgeable in the art of wielding. He can help us.”
“Only if it suits him.” She wondered again what he’d been up to when he took Finn to Oakheart. The feeling he was manipulating them wouldn’t go away.
“Do you forgive me?” Finn looked nervous, maybe even frightened.
“As long as you don’t hate me for my power, we’re good.”
“Hate you?” He took her hands in his. “I could never hate you. I could never hate anyone.”
“So you silenced Cal out of love?”
Finn let go.
She’d delivered a hard blow and, watching it land, she knew she’d done wrong. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you were right. It wasn’t love. That man would’ve done harm to all of us.”
“Because he was an abomination?”
Finn nodded. “The wielder came at me from out of nowhere. A rushing roar of power. He was going to kill me. There was no control. It was a mad rage. I tried to protect myself. Marcelo cried out, declaring the madman was an Abomination. Not only was I in danger, but everyone else too. I had no choice.”
She could forgive him for silencing Cal. He hadn’t had a choice. But there was still the question, the fear, burning between them — would he do the same to her if he discovered she too was an Abomination?
Jasmine gave him a single nod and headed for the door. “Make sure you don’t let that food go to waste.”
“Where are you going? I’d hoped you might stay a while longer. While I was busy being foolish, I missed you.”
Her heart should’ve warmed. The only time she’d been missed on the Prize was when Brusan or one of the officers wanted her to do some job. Struggling with the fear that one day Finn would discover her secret, she didn’t know what she felt. It wasn’t warmed. “I need to catch some sleep before my watch. I’ll come back after.”
She opened the door, and there stood Kask with his hand raised, about to knock. In his other hand he held a knife. A wide one taken from the galley. One of Brusan’s favorites.
“You looking for Finn or me?”
Kask had a dazed look about him. He lowered his hand and seemed to notice the kni
fe he carried. He frowned. “I… I came to return this.” He handed her the knife. When she took it, he thrust his hands in his pockets and marched up the passageway.
Jasmine caught a brief glimpse of Gley at the opposite end. The girl tipped her head toward her then turned around and left.
“Who were you talking to?” Finn asked.
Another crewmate affected by the Beast? Surely not. Jasmine no longer worked in the galley, so there was no reason for Kask to give her the blade. Especially when the galley was closer to both the sailor’s quarters and the main deck.
“Kask was just returning a blade,” she said, the prickling of her unease making her shoulders twitch.
Finn frowned. “You lent him one?”
“No. Do me a favor and lock this door after I leave.”
Finn sat up straighter, his frown a shadow playing over his features. “Paranoid or not, I feel safer with it locked. The incident with Philips didn’t help. And now Kask?”
“It might’ve been nothing.” As she hefted the large knife, she didn’t feel reassured or convinced by her own words.
His scruffy hair and worried expression made her miss their carefree days together. Even if she could have those days back, she yearned for more with him. She craved to give him everything she had, to forge an unbreakable connection with him where there was no need for secrets between them, and where nothing could thwart their bond.
Trust glowed in his eyes when she drew closer and set the knife down on the desk. Brushing her fingers through his silky hair, she gave him a long slow kiss. She tried drinking in his warmth, reveling in his love, delighting in a tingle that didn’t come.
How could she fight the Beast when it used regular folk against Finn?
She pulled away.
He grinned. “You can do that any time you please.”
A faint smile tugged on her lips.
It was foolish to wish for a fantasy. Time might be all she needed to gain back that missing warmth, but she could never find complete security with Finn while that one secret remained between them. And it had to remain. She needed to remember that.
Chapter 23
Jasmine woke with a jolt, her heart thumping in her chest as if she’d been chased by demons. It took her a moment to work out where she was. The top deck of her Prize. The crew’s quarters had been a den of fitful snores, sleep mutterings, and whispered complaints. She hadn’t been able to sleep in her hammock, so she’d relocated topside. To soothe her mind of its fears, she’d attempted a vague approximation of meditation. Turned out, meditation was a sure-fire way to fall asleep.
She’d had the dream again. The one where Finn killed her, only this time he’d strangled her with his bare hands. Remembering his cold touch, she rubbed her neck. It had felt too real. When she took her last agonized breath, she collapsed at his feet. He then destroyed the ship, the seas, and all the lands. She couldn’t shake the feeling of soul-wrenching betrayal. Her body trembled with the power of it.
It was just a dream — a dream not a vision, a false one from the Beast. She knew the difference. The creature being able to reach her from its prison was more unnerving than the visions — the real ones and the false ones put together.
A cold breeze brushed against her bare arms and feet. It was a clear night, the sky crisper than usual with stars salting the sky. Jasmine picked out the Archer’s Belt, Xandory’s Eye, and there, close to the horizon, partially obscured by the ghostly flutter of the sails, rose the Southern Sisters. The familiar creak and groan of her ship settled her still-racing heart. The wash of the waves calmed her unease.
She climbed to her feet and shook herself. Weariness clung to her. She rubbed at her temples as if she could scour away her uncertainties and agitation. These were not emotions she wanted to hold on to. It didn’t help knowing they were fueled by the attacks on Finn, the endless battering of the dark visions, and the Beast’s false dreams — sources she had no control over.
Low murmurs reached her ears. Jasmine searched the dark. Crewmates Stenson and Willem stood near the main mast, arms crossed, shoulders hunched against the cold.
“Who does he think he is, anyways?” Stenson asked. “Just a filthy wielder.”
“Careful what you say, mate,” Willem said. “Our Midge is a wielder too now.”
“Aye, but with the new star ‘n’ all...”
“Shut your mouth,” Willem snapped. “It’s bad luck to speak of it.”
What new star? Jasmine did a quick scan of the sky. On the edge of the Sisters shone a new pinprick in the dark firmament. That had to be the star the crewmates spoke of. But stars didn’t suddenly appear out of nowhere. The patterns the ancient mariners saw in the night skies hadn’t changed for millennia.
“Don’t make it any less fearsome,” Stenson muttered.
A cold wind blew up and rattled the sails.
“Thought we was family, and now suddenly Midge is a wielder?” Stenson went on, apparently needing to vent. “Where’d that come from? If I’m honest, I don’t know what I feel about her being a wielder.”
“Aye, don’t matter we’ve had almost five months to get used to it; magic ain’t natural.” Willem shook his head. “But she’s still Midge.”
Stenson scratched at his beard. “Guess you’re right.”
Their words stung, but sailors complaining was nothing out of the ordinary. They didn’t like anything new or different, and they harbored countless superstitions. Jasmine didn’t take it personally. Mostly. Sometimes they just needed to air their complaints. It was understandable considering a new star hung above them.
“This Finn fellow is something else. He’s been nothing but trouble.”
“Aye, thought we was going home to Auslam,” Willem said. “We’d earned it. But the boy went and ruined it for everyone.”
“Aye, I has a sweetheart in that port.”
Willem grunted. “You have a sweetheart in every port.”
“I don’t have no sweetheart in our next one.” Stenson balled into a tighter hunch. “And I’m awful hungry too. A few more days of rations, I’ll turn into an empty husk. If you ask me, we’re better off if the boy weren’t on the ship. One less mouth to feed.”
Star or no, this had to end.
Jasmine stepped into the light so the two crewmen could get a good look at her. “No one’s asking you, Stenson.” She’d heard of mutinies when life got hard, or when a crew didn’t agree with the captain’s decisions. She didn’t think it would come to that here — not on her Prize and not among family — but it wasn’t wise to let talk like that continue.
The two men unfolded and stood to attention as if she were the captain.
“Didn’t mean nothing by it,” Stenson rushed out.
“Sorry, lass,” Willem added.
When she didn’t say anything more, they glanced at each other then scurried away in opposite directions.
There wasn’t a lot she could do about the crew’s discontentment except to keep an eye on it.
An ache in her shoulders made itself known. She kneaded those muscles and went to the railing. A new star? What could it mean? At the Guardian’s manor in Oakheart, Aurelius had found a book on the old magic that spoke about a new star. According to the book, it had appeared as a sign of a new magic entering the world. While the notes in the book had dismissed the notion, Jasmine wasn’t so sure. Perhaps the star heralded the Beast’s influence on the world. Already two sailors had been affected by its touch. As the Beast grew stronger, what would be next?
She did a quick mental check on Finn. His room was dark, and he was in bed, one leg hanging out from under the covers. Her ship told her, based on his breathing, he slept peacefully. That was something, at least.
“Nice work diffusing that discussion with the crewmates.”
Jasmine spun. First Mate Cagg stood beside her, looking up at the night sky as she had done.
“You on watch?” she asked, trying to remember
the roster.
“Not tonight. Had trouble sleeping so I thought I’d stretch my legs. Didn’t much expect to discover something as unsettling as a new star.”
A fresh wave of unease settled over her.
“It’s a bad omen, that star,” Cagg said before she could ask his opinion.
While most sailors were superstitious, she hadn’t expected Cagg to be one of them. He had come across as a levelheaded man of reason. She’d once caught him reading a book. For enjoyment. Who did that? Even scholars didn’t read for fun. They did it to expand their minds, as Finn had once explained. For Cagg to call the star a bad omen meant the rest of the crew would be downright rattled by it. And that made Jasmine nervous.
Her earlier assessment of the crew shifted lower on the discontentment scale. They were already struggling with the rations and being at sea for so long with so little shore leave in the last few months. Their food was being rationed, and they were headed to some place none of them had been to before or even heard of, in unknown waters, all for a wielder they didn’t trust. Now a new star — a bad omen — had been thrown into the mix.
“You could become an officer one day,” Cagg said. “Maybe even captain your own ship if you have the wish.”
His words snapped her back to the deck with him. While she had always wanted to stay on the Prize, she hadn’t thought of anything beyond that.
“You already know most of the duties on board,” Cagg said. “You’re strong too. I’ve seen you break apart a barrel and put it together again.”
That had been an early lesson Brusan had taught her while she was a cook’s apprentice. He’d wanted to make sure she was physically strong and useful. Probably another command from Kahld.
“You do chores without being asked. You keep an eye on the day-to-day maintenance of the ship, repairing the rigging, oiling the masts, checking the sails have been furled properly. You aren’t afraid to pitch in and get a job done, even re-caulking, tarring, and painting.”
It was because she loved it all and wanted to make sure her ship was well maintained. No one complained, and while she’d spotted both Durne and Cagg checking over her work, neither had made her do a job over.