Chapter 47
J A N E
I n the underdeck, somewhere in the stores, the Cinders and I are all tied up to posts. I’m the only one who has her wrists bound so tight my elbows nearly hurt from this position; the rest simply have rope around their arms. It was a glorious few seconds to see Jesper’s castle be ravaged by fire, his panic and anger like drinking fresh water after a long day in the sun.
This is what he gets for hurting those innocent villagers. For being behind the death of my mother, for giving Misery the worshippers he needs to even attempt building this empire.
The ship sways hard, the guards that are watching over us grabbing one of the many handles that now makes sense as to why they even exist—I’m just glad my stomach isn’t lurching this time.
No, this is nothing like last time, when I’d just lie with Soren in a hammock.
I shudder with so much emotion at realizing that the man looking at this ship as we left might have really been Soren . He came for me. I don’t know what to do with that gratitude—I glance down at my bound wrists, and then at the forearm that has Soren’s mask embedded.
Can he feel me?
My body comes to life with purpose, with vengeance. It’s as if any and all fear never mattered. He is busting his ass to help me, which how am I going to repay him?
I have to burn down Darkwater, that’s for certain. So now, how do I get out of these ropes?
My eyes narrow with consideration when I see oil lanterns swaying with the waves that has us women—all but one—revealing we don’t have much experience at sea with the way we’re knocked around, even if we try to fight it.
Which gets me thinking… if I can spread oil around, it’ll splash all over everything with how much this ship moves.
If the mages are dead, then it will be impossible to extinguish.
To think that Soren will be watching from somewhere nearby keeps me alert. It's as if every few thoughts circle around him. There’s a massive part of me that wants to make him proud, to prove I’m worthy of being with someone as rough and intense as him. Almost as if this act is a part of a messed-up courtship.
I never doubted him, but I also knew I couldn’t sit and wait for him to show. I still don’t think I’ve processed that someone loves me enough to risk it all. Daydreaming about it is one thing, but seeing him actually show up …
The lantern that sways fiercely never spills any of its fire, and my mind hones in on it; I glance around at the barrels, and then at the giant hooks and metal rigging. Is this the maintenance deck? They need oil for maintaining things, right? And isn’t a lot of this wood treated to keep water from getting in? I swear I remember Dad telling me to be careful with some of the buildings made out of pirate ships for that reason, because it’s flammable.
One of the women looks up at a guard and asks, “Isn’t that dangerous to have a fire lit during a storm?”
My lips press together like I’m trying to squish a bug. Shut. Up. Lady.
He blinks slowly and takes his time to face her. “Clearly, this is not normal fire.” He waves his hands around. “Almost, and I know this is hard to understand, like magic from a fire mage .”
Another woman says, “Leave it alone. You want to be bound in darkness?”
“ All hands on deck! ” starts to make its way through the ship, our guard remaining resolute. Another comes down, “You too, Heath. Orders from Misery.”
He nods to me. “Even that one?”
“She’s bound in Misery’s rope. He’ll know if it’s been cut or if she tries anything .”
We’ll see.
The guard clearly has no more interest and heads to the door. When it seems like we’re actually alone, one of the Cinders asks, “Did they just leave us here?”
“What’s the worst that’ll happen? We get to know each other?” another replies.
“Oh, shut it. You’re the only one that wants this,” the first one replies, her blonde hair braided down the middle, her knobby knees all red.
“At least we’re not her ,” the protesting one says, nodding at me. “ She’s going to die at some point. We get to live. And be revered .”
Shit, okay. So, she’s our weak link. If I can somehow free myself, then she might scream about it. She lifts her head up as if to look down on us all. “We’re going to have to all partake, one way or another.
Squeals and light screams begin to echo through us as the ship clearly dives down, nose first, over a swell, sending our bodies to really push against our restraints, some of the cargo sliding.
The blonde yells out, “Brace yourselves!”
I press back against my pole, digging my heels into the wood as the ship is then rocked dramatically in the opposite direction as if the front hit water and is now rising upward again.
That was not exciting. My heart skips a beat as I pant, the ship creaking and groaning.
“You work on a ship?” someone asks the blonde.
“Aye. I did.”
Rope groans somewhere above us, and I feel like we’re all stuck in a barrel that’s adrift in a stormy ocean.
I waste no time in feeling around with my hands, trying to figure out what finger or bone needs to break in order to get out; I’ll just knock the one out that seems far too interested in living in this new world. With just enough jostling, I realize a thumb should do it.
I sigh, accepting that I should probably break one and then heal it. Or, what if I don’t have time? At some point, I realize I’m just sitting there, holding my thumb. I can just pull it out of place, yank with no mercy. But there’s no guarantee I can get it out of the ropes.
There are a few false starts, but it’s when we begin a dive over another massive wave, our bodies slung against the confines of our ropes again, that I nearly do it but focus so much on balance that I miss my window of opportunity.
As I look at the one who worked on a ship, I get an idea, but that other one is listening in. It might not be worth shouting these things out because then she’ll share what we’re plotting.
The blonde is the only one that’s quiet, like the eye of a storm.
Okay.
Assess.
I work to bring my wrists to my mouth, right at the bindings. The first knot is a bitch, tied so tight that it makes my jaw tremble every time my teeth slide up the rough rope—the knot barely budges.
“What is she doing?” the loyal one asks. “Stop that!”
I don’t reply. Instead, the blonde speaks for me, “ Quiet .”
The loyal one scoffs. “What is she going to do? Kill Misery, in a storm ?” Her eyes widen. “Now, you better not fuck up my chance at a royal life.”
Move quickly .
I connect my gaze to the blonde, and then up at the lantern, and then down at my confines. I hope she gets the message. If she’s been on a ship, she’ll know how to make it burn.
She lifts only her gaze, so as not to draw attention, and then nods.
Perfect.
She has to know.
If she can free herself, she’ll have a better chance at succeeding than me?—
Someone appears in the threshold, a dramatic groan escaping my lips when I see who it is. My eyes roll as I drop my head, turning to the side like my body has a sudden rush of energy, and I can’t sit still.
“Morvock is calling for Jane,” Jesper says, almost with too much joy.
“What the hells did I do?”
The loyal one motions to me with her head. “She is trying to escape.”
He looks at her sweetly. “Yes, I know, dear. Morvock could feel it. Your loyalty will be noted.”
Jesper nears me, but it’s so awkward and tense to be near him after everything. It’s as if he’s slightly afraid of me, or like I’m a cursed object. “You just couldn’t sit down here,” he grumbles.
Somewhere in the distance, “ HOLD ” echoes.
Jesper backs off and grips one of the bars on the pillar I’m tied to, holding for dear life as the ship goes through another dramatic rocking back and forth, the cargo shifting with it again, held back by netting.
Once it passes, Jesper quickly finishes untying me from the pole before guiding me through the tight halls, pinning me against the wall when we hit another massive swell, putting all his weight on me so I can’t do much; he even keeps his face away from mine. “Once we’re on land, you are so fucked .” he laughs. “Your stupid fucking Zenith killed Marissa.”
My eyes widen.
“Yeah, I saw it on the telescope. Slammed her against a wall.” He digs his elbow deeper into my neck so I gasp for air. “There will be a punishment for that.”
“ You’re the one that left her,” I manage out.
“Because he razed my goddamn city ,” he says, his one eye bloodshot and wide, his teeth baring at me. “Her worship was next to none, and now it’s gone.”
I lean in as much as I can, and he pulls back further like I’m venomous, even taking the pressure off my neck. “Well, think of it this way. He killed Marissa, and all she did was tend to me.” I pause, letting all of my chaos out that I’ve buried down. “Imagine what he’ll do to the man that threatened to rape me in front of everyone? To the man who killed his right hand?”
Real fear flashes in his eye.
“Keep your eye peeled, Jesper. I know this storm wasn’t caused naturally. Tempest is coming, isn’t she?”
He yanks me up the stairs, the door opening to reveal rain that’s blowing nearly sideways, a wet deck sleek from water, and a sky that barely has any light to it. In the very front is Misery, along with four fire mages, and all the braziers continue to burn to create a haunting scene.
He drags me quickly across the deck, the ocean momentarily scaring the shit of me.
The swells are massive —the size of this entire ship .
A quick glance shows Blackwell at the wheel, his mask creating a rather frightening image for a captain.
Jesper leads me to Misery without another word, his cloak billowing to create a lanky outline of a crouched body. The god reaches his bony hand out and touches my shoulder, my body rooting in the spot as my feet can’t move, the ropes all falling off and rolling back to the ship. It’s beyond unnerving to have something like him make physical contact with me, the knowledge that he is so beyond capable, and that he plans to use my flesh…
Those candle eyes…
We stand behind what is almost like an altar, a thick wall of wood coming to a point, stretching around us to incrementally get smaller, two mages on either side of us as Jesper returns to wherever he came. “My tolerance is low, Jane Ritter. So you will stand with me to ensure you do nothing .”
What do I say to him?
Shut your mouth!
It’s easy to remain speechless, especially when I realize that at some point, the ship will—oh, fuck . Two swells ahead seem to be on either side of us. Misery stamps his staff on the deck, the wood of the ship intertwining with it.The fire mages all seem to carry a mixture of determination and apprehension, their cloaks soaked now that I look at them.
The braziers almost make it hard to truly see the details of the ocean, like they’re blinding my ability to perceive the dark.
I brace myself for what has to be utter destruction as the massive waves—that seem to move in slow motion—collide. Our ship raises up in the air, the prow pointing upward rather than down, and it’s only when the ship begins to dip down again that I realize the two waves became one and raised us up to the top.
We roll over the massive wave, water spraying on all sides.
Misery lifts his staff and slams it down on the ship, a vibration rising through my feet as I feel like I’m a fixture of Darkwater.
I can’t help but scream as the ship plummets down, Misery’s grip on my arm surely bruising me at this point. I scream even louder when the tip of the ship is about to collide with water, as if I have just fallen off a balcony and into the ocean; I close my eyes and get ready to hold my breath— no! Keep them open! You need to know when to hold your breath so you don’t drown!
Opening my eyes, I watch in horror as water hits us like a wall, consuming us instantly as the black void of the ocean envelops the front of the ship.
Pressure .
There’s so much pressure as we enter the water’s surface. I want to open my mouth and scream, or breathe, but then the pressure lightens and air graces my face once more. I open my mouth before my eyes. Water washes off of the deck as I breathe raggedly, somehow still pinned to this spot. Looking around, the swells of the ocean are like a giant beast coming to life, as if the ocean’s surface is the skin of a demon.
Never thought I’d be so happy to be this close to Misery or to him holding onto me, as I could have been wiped away if not for him. I don’t even register how soaked I am anymore, the braziers still bright and lit, keeping us warm. I pant as if I just ran through the entirety of Skull’s Row.
This miserable god needs me to regain a body, so he can actually be powerful again, right? Which means he’s a weak little shit now? I’ve never once seen him without his staff, so I bet he needs it. Could I just grab it when he doesn’t see that coming? I flinch when I think of him feeling those thoughts, until Cypress’s image comes to me.
Him not feeling me is the sole purpose of this.
It’s as if I’m staring at a clear night sky and can finally see how the stars connect to form a constellation.
Cypress is on my side. Because of her god, and because I’m the one that could get closest to Misery without him killing me because he needs my skin.
Me choosing to take down Misery is essentially choosing to help Cypress’s god, but at least he’s not the one that plans to wear me like a jacket.
This is it.
This is the moment for me. And this ugly asshole is so focused, I can almost feel the fear in him. Something about Tempest unnerves the shit out of him, and he’s focused on preventing that. I’d also be willing to bet he’s helping Darkwater burst through these waves without crashing, as I don’t know why else he’d be up here. It’s clear he needs the help of the mages, so maybe the fire gives him power?
Either way, he’s vulnerable .
I think of the tattoo on my chest and what the depth of it means. It’s actually a unique design, what it might look like if it was actually for me.
It is mine.
Mine .
I’m surrounded by people with their own legends, and there’s no reason I can’t have my own. There’s no reason I’m worthless, and so far, my magic has been used in ways other than to heal. Maybe it will work here… As we’re about to crest over another swell and Misery lifts the staff, I throw everything I have at grabbing it.
I reach deep into every well of healing power and let it drain me as it bleeds from my hands, the blue glow matching the brightness of braziers that whip around underneath this masked sun.
A growl so demonic emits from the forgotten god, who then shrieks , his staff cracking apart as blue light seems to emit from it, the obsidian rock at the top glowing blue.
The boat tips over a wave, and a wall of water once again collides into us all.
It happens so fast and slow at once, the way the water overtakes me, and I get lost in it. It’s freeing, almost, until my body slams into something hard. Instinct kicks in as I reach for anything, grabbing something metal and clinging to it for dear life.
When my knees are on a solid surface, and I feel my balance pivot to a center, I realize I’m not dead. As the water washes away, my hand immediately touches my calve that’s bleeding from a nasty wound.
“BLOODY FLAGS!” someone shouts at the wheel, and it’s not Blackwell. “The Sea Wolf has been spotted with bloody flags!”
A bell tolls.
Darting my gaze around, I can’t spot the braziers anymore. Seriously? Were they wiped out, too? It makes sense if Misery is what was keeping us all planted there. It’s going to work. I spot the door that could take me below deck, and so far, no one is coming for me.
It’s my life’s purpose now to set this thing aflame.