Vengeance of the Pirate Queen (Daughter of the Pirate King #3)

Chapter 25

I STAND WITH THE panaceum in hand and survey my crew.

There is a tense moment where we stare each other down. I can only imagine how I must look: my eyes an eerie blue, blood raining from my hands, my body extra still.

I see the fear in their eyes. I am physically changed. So why shouldn’t my mind be changed as well?

My eyes drift down to the panaceum, clasped gently between my fingers. It is mine to control now, not Threydan’s. I close my eyes to concentrate. I can feel my essence encased within that small orb, thrumming excitedly.

I seize it like a parent does a lost child. I put my lips to the swirling blue, and for the first time in a long time, I feel .

Warmth spreads across my lips as I make contact. I feel that writhing mass of me reenter my body, settle within my heart, then disperse throughout the rest of my limbs.

The cold of this frozen land slams back into me. More so than usual since I recently went for a swim in the freezing ocean and am still damp with both salt water and newly shed blood. But I welcome that biting cold like an old friend. I missed it. I missed feeling.

I missed being alive.

When the physical changes are done, I try to cut myself off mentally from the panaceum. I hear the undead slump to the deck, lifeless once more. Within my mind’s eye, I imagine a pair of scissors aiming for that tether between me and the panaceum, except as I look at it, I realize it’s not alone.

There is the smallest bit of my essence contained within the orb.

And I realize that if I were to completely sever that tie, I would die. Because the object was still corrupted—still encased within Threydan’s flesh when he changed me—I, too, suffer the consequences of that corruption. If I were to cut ties with it, that healing would be undone.

It has to stay with me always. I can’t hand it off to Alosa and be done with it. My hand tightens in a vise around the cursed object.

When my eyes reopen, I know they are brown once more by the way all the occupants on the ship suddenly relax their postures.

I say with a slight chatter, “What do the lot of you think? Is it not time we put this place behind us for good?”

Then the cheering starts.

Drifta and Islanders embrace. Dimella whistles in a way that splits the ears. Philoria and Visylla jump into the air with arms clasped around each other. Roslyn slides down from the crow’s nest and clamps herself around me, uncaring that I’m covered in blood.

Kearan meets my eyes over all the celebrating people, but his widen before they roam frantically over the crowd.

“Wait!” he shouts. “Where’s Enwen? Has anyone seen Enwen?”

All sounds stop, and no one answers his question.

“Enwen!” Kearan bellows. He weaves through the dead bodies, rolling them over and checking their faces. When it becomes impossible to tell how many he’s sorted through, he starts tossing over the dead and previously undead. The rest of the crew doesn’t need my order to help. The lads help carry all the bodies overboard. Some of the girls go below to search. The injured are brought to me, and I heal them all in quick succession. Dimella begins roll call and takes down the names of the Drifta who have joined us.

When done, I aid in the search, finding Kearan near a pile of bodies at the front of the ship. One at a time, he rolls them off the heap with the strength of a bear.

Enwen’s still form lies beneath them all.

The panaceum can do many things, but it cannot bring people back from the dead.

Kearan falls to his knees beside the body. His face is distraught. He gathers Enwen up in his arms and—

Drops him.

“You bloody bastard!” Kearan says. “I could feel you breathing, you half-wit.”

Enwen cracks one eye open as he rubs the back of his head. “Maybe I lost consciousness.”

“You were faking dead!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you just told me how much you cared!”

Kearan looks ready to punch him. He stands, turns around, and meets my eyes. I cross my arms and look pointedly between the two of them. It takes a while, but eventually he gathers control of his temper. He reaches out a hand to Enwen and helps him to his feet. I observe as he draws Enwen close, whispers something in his ear, then releases him.

The crew goes back to cheering, and it’s as though nothing happened at all.

Enwen steps back from Kearan with the biggest grin I’ve ever seen. “Don’t worry,” he says. “Your secret is safe with me. Now, go on.” He pushes Kearan in my direction, not that Enwen could make him move if he didn’t want to.

All the screaming and laughter of the crew fades to the background as that big, brutish man approaches me. He enfolds me in his arms, covering my poorly clothed limbs with his warmth.

“You’re freezing,” he says.

“I know. Isn’t it exciting?”

He smiles.

“What did you say to Enwen?”

He rolls his eyes. “I told him he was my best friend.”

“Was it really so hard to say?”

“I’ll never hear the end of it now.”

“Nor would you want to.”

“Suppose not.”

Then I pull his head down to mine.

There may be onlookers, but I doubt they can see anything around Kearan’s form. Besides, I’m too thrilled to care. When our lips touch, a jolt of heat spreads through me. This, this, is how it is supposed to be. How could anyone be content with less?

Heat and soft lips, rough facial hair scratching along my palm. My limbs infusing with his body heat at every point where we touch. It is thrilling and terrifying all at once.

He tilts his head slightly, so our foreheads touch, our lips now a breath apart.

“I like this,” he says.

“Then why did you stop?”

“Perhaps we should get the ship moving?”

“Perhaps you’re right.” I peer around his shoulder. “Dimella! Get us going.”

“Aye-aye, Captain! Kearan to the helm, riggers—”

“Captain Warran can take the helm,” I tell her.

“Indeed he can. Warran, take the helm! The rest of you lot, get moving! We’ve a long sail ahead of us.”

I take Kearan’s hand and pull him after me into the captain’s quarters. Not a second after I get the door closed, a fist pounds against it.

My eyes slam shut, and I barely contain my sigh of frustration. I’m cold and tired and covered in blood. I want nothing more than a moment. Just one moment! Is that so much to ask for?

I slip the panaceum into my boot with my knives until I can fashion something else to carry it in, then wrench open the door and find Dynkinar on the other side.

I say nothing, just stare at her, waiting.

Dynkinar says something in Driftan, and I’m excited to find I can still translate. After all, the panaceum is still mine.

“That was well done, Captain Veshtas. I thank you for your courage and strength in doing the right thing back there. I beg another favor of you. Please return my people and the panaceum to the island.”

Thoughts of kissing Kearan slip from my mind as I focus on her words. “Is that truly what you and your people want? To return to that frozen place and guard a relic that was foisted upon you so long ago?”

“It is our sacred charge.”

“Last I checked, sirens weren’t gods. Why don’t instead you come with us, and we can discuss the artifact with the sirens. We can free your people from its influence forever.”

She stares me down for some time. When she speaks again, her tone is only curious. “What kind of life would my people have?”

“My queen is good and generous. She can always use more helping hands. I will plead on your behalf for a settlement. Or you’re welcome to join us. We’re always looking to expand our ranks. Your crew did a fair amount of pirating while protecting that cursed place.”

“We have little ones. Most of those left among us aren’t fighters.”

“That’s not a problem. We have little ones at the queen’s hideout and those who perform duties other than fighting.”

Dynkinar thinks for but a moment. “And the panaceum?”

I hesitate. Do I say that I have to keep it? Won’t she think that I’m being selfish and wanting it for the immortality and infinite power?

I don’t. I wish with all my heart I didn’t have to be dependent upon it for life, but that was the cost for using its power.

I say, “I would like to discuss it with my queen and the sirens so we can decide how best to keep it safe.”

But I know Alosa, and she would trust me to keep it safe. She wouldn’t even entertain the notion of letting me part from it once she knows I have to keep it close to stay alive. To keep everyone I use it on alive.

Kearan shifts slightly behind me, just a gentle movement, but I sense it. It’s impossible to forget he is behind me. And I desperately want to speed this up.

Finally, she says, “We will go with you. It is high time we started living our own lives. We must integrate with your crew so we can begin to learn each other’s language.”

“I agree.”

“In the meantime, I trust you will keep a close eye on the panaceum?”

“I will have it on me always.”

“I thank you.”

She leaves, and the door closes once more.

Though there is a fire going in the room, I am not near enough to it to feel its heat. My teeth begin to chatter, and I wrap my arms about myself.

Kearan shrugs out of his coat and throws it over my shoulders. His hands come down to rest on either side of my neck. Then there’s a rapping at the door again.

Stars, but this is getting old.

Kearan strides past me and opens the door. “What?”

Jadine’s voice comes from the other side. “Don’t you use that barbaric tone with me, you great brute. The captain has to be freezing after everything that happened. I’ve had the girls boil water so she can properly bathe and heat her bones back up. Unless of course you mean to let her freeze and remain coated in blood while the two of you do whatever it is you had planned?”

Kearan turns to me. “It’s for you.” He strides past Jadine, exiting the room and leaving me alone.

I don’t say a word as they bring in the water, filling a wooden basin. It’s one of the few things that looks new in the room. The captain’s quarters resemble all the others I’ve been in before. There’s an elaborate bed piled with furs. A desk that looks like it hasn’t been used in quite some time. In fact, I believe there’s some sort of storage underneath where the captain’s legs are meant to go. Most of the walls are covered in firewood and kindling. For what else is really necessary for survival out here?

Distantly, I wonder if I killed the captain of this ship, or if the Drifta don’t really bother with such positions, since this vessel was only used to attack newcomers.

I certainly hope it’s up for the voyage ahead.

The water is heavenly. After time spent truly embracing the cold once again, it is a delight to feel the comfort of being warm. Warm and surrounded by water that is not dangerous or full of the unknown. I wash the grime and blood from my body. The stink of smoke and brine and everything else is whisked away.

When done, I simply soak in the water. Only then do the events of the day really sink in. We’re okay. We’re going home. And Kearan … left.

He left without so much as a good-bye. Why?

I ponder that until I’m wrinkly and the water has run out of warmth. Then I quickly dry and dress in layers and layers of clothing. Then I turn to the fireplace. I promise myself I’ll stay just until my braids dry. They’ve grown during the voyage, and I’ll need to have them rebraided when I return home.

When I resurface again, Kearan is at the helm. Only the bare minimum of necessary crew are present on the main deck, and I hear singing coming from below.

I meet Kearan’s eyes. His reveal nothing, so I leave him be and tread down to carry out my duties.

What I find below is sheer revelry.

Hands clap, voices sing, and the folks dance or laugh together. Bottles are passed around, and a Drifta I don’t recognize offers me one. I take it to be polite but then pass it along when she’s not looking. Even now, I always want to stay sharp.

When I spot Dimella, I find her in Taydyn’s lap, one arm thrown around his neck and the other swaying to the melody of the singing Taydyn is leading. When she sees me, she straightens right away.

“Captain! I haven’t been imbibing, just observing the festivities. I swear on my honor!”

“I believe you. Relax, I thought only to come down and address the crew. I thought they might need bolstering.”

“Ahh, well, the little one has already seen to that.”

“Roslyn?”

“Aye, she’s the one who organized this. Said it’s tradition after a victory among the pirate queen’s crew.”

“That it is.” Roslyn’s always eager to have a party. She loves music and dancing. I also suspect she enjoys watching the crew drink a little too much and turn into bumbling versions of themselves.

“I think it might be good for the crew to see their captain celebrating with us. Stay a while, won’t you?”

“I’m not sure I know how to do that,” I admit.

“It’s easy, Captain!” comes another voice from behind me.

Enwen shows up wearing a new hat that he must have stolen or salvaged somewhere. He holds out a hand to me. In the past, I would have stabbed any hand presumptuous enough to assume I’d want to take it. But with Enwen, I let it slide. I wave him off.

“You’ll have far much more fun without me stepping on your feet,” I say.

“Suit yourself. How about you, little lass?”

Roslyn giggles as Enwen tosses her into the air before returning her to her feet and spinning her about. I tap my foot gently to the music, which is really the only thing I’m comfortable doing in such a situation. I’m not like other people. My emotions aren’t so easily visible on my face, nor am I comfortable showing them most of the time. I don’t know how to be a part of things, because I never thought I was worthy of happiness.

And now things have … changed. It’s confusing, but all is well for now.

I stay at the party for several hours, just to observe how everyone is integrating. Those from the Seventeen Isles may not know the language of the Drifta, but that doesn’t stop them from dancing together. Threydan’s shadow has been cast over them since the day they were born. While they don’t know us well, we freed them from being prisoners to that island forever. That’s a cause worth celebrating over.

Even old Warran smiles now and again and claps along when he thinks no one is looking. Jadine, who must be the closest to his age among all my crew, pulls him into a swinging dance that he doesn’t refuse.

When I’ve judged that I’ve stayed long enough, I return to my quarters. Neither Warran nor Dynkinar has tried to fight me for them, so I take that as a good sign that they’ve decided I’ve earned them. Thank goodness, because I desperately need some time alone.

With the undead following me for who knows how long, I need to be somewhere I can breathe and be unobserved for once.

And then someone is at the door, yet again.

“I wish to sleep,” I say, “so unless it’s urgent, you can return another time.”

The footsteps retreat.

But I recognize that gait, so I rush to the door and open it.

Kearan halts at the sound with his back to me.

“You can come in,” I say. “I thought you were someone else.”

“Are you expecting someone else?” he asks as he turns.

“Only people who need things from me.”

“What makes you think I don’t need anything?”

I am not used to this. There is a charge in the air, something building that will eventually reach its limit and then … something will happen.

I don’t know how to answer that, so I just step aside, a silent invitation for him to enter.

He takes it.

I shut the door before going to the fireplace, striding right past him. “Having gone only a few days without it, I suddenly find myself addicted to the heat.”

“That’ll pass once we’re back in the tropics, I imagine.”

“Perhaps.”

At the silence that fills the room, I ask, “Why did you leave earlier?”

“You needed to heat up.”

Yes, and I thought he’d intended to help with that.

“You were covered in blood from head to foot,” he adds.

Ah, I suppose I was rather filthy. “That’s all?” I ask.

“No, but that’s all you need to know of it.”

I glance over my shoulder, find his heated stare on my face. Any thoughts I might have had about his intentions quickly fall away.

“Why?” I ask.

“The rest of it doesn’t paint me in a very kind light.”

I laugh lightly. “I showed you all of my dark spaces. Do you really think you could say anything to scare me?”

“Aye, I do. But since you asked—” He approaches the fire until he stands beside me. He raises his hands to touch the heat with his fingertips. “I also left so I wouldn’t do something stupid. You were shivering and covered in so much blood, but I wanted you all the same. Would have taken whatever you offered right in that moment and relished in it. Then Jadine appeared and reminded me what a brute I was being, taking no heed of your own well-being. I left to collect my head.”

I swallow. “I see you cleaned up yourself.”

“Nothing like cold water to clear a man’s head and turn his mind to better thoughts.”

“I see.”

He’s not so close to me that our shoulders brush. But I could reach out and touch him if I wanted to.

“Why did you think I left?” he asks.

“I honestly had no idea. You might have guessed that I have no experience when it comes to these kinds of things.”

He turns, rotating his body to face me. “What kinds of things are those?”

“You know all too well,” I say, keeping my face on the fire.

“Aye, but I want to hear you say it.”

“You’re not going to.”

“That’s a shame.”

I take a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“You’re doing it right now. You’re talking to me. Though I admit it might be better for the both of us if you’d deign to look at me, too.”

I turn only my head to meet his eyes.

“There’s no right or wrong way to do this. Just talk to me, and I’ll talk to you. That’s all we need. Honesty and communication. The rest we can figure out along the way.”

I feel restless, so I reach for a knife and start twirling it about. “I’ve spent my whole life hating men. I don’t know how to suddenly start liking one.”

“That can’t be true. What about Wallov?”

“Wallov is the exception, and only because I’ve observed him so closely with his daughter. You have to understand, aside from my father, my experiences with men have been limited to the man who slaughtered my family, the boys on the streets who preyed on little girls, and the pirate king—who abused Alosa beyond my comprehension.”

There’s also what happened to Niridia, but that’s not my story to tell.

“My point is,” I continue, “that I’m used to seeing evil in men. I looked high and low for it in you, but I couldn’t find it. So I thought to scare you off by showing you the evil in me. That didn’t work, either.”

He smiles softly. “You gave it your best effort to prevent us from happening. I commend you for it.”

I fight off a laugh. Kearan’s eyes trace my lips, taking in my smiles like they’re sunshine.

“I don’t like that it was you who made me see I shouldn’t be so hard on myself,” I say. “Alosa tried to tell me. Mandsy and Niridia both tried. But I never told them the full story. I don’t think I could believe it until someone knew the whole truth of it. I don’t like that it was finally you. A man. I don’t need a man to prove anything to me.”

He takes some time to process that. “The thing is that you love Alosa and those girls you fought with. Their good opinions mean the world to you. I was expendable. My good opinion wasn’t something you wanted. You lost nothing by telling me.”

“No, instead I gained everything, including a desire for you to think well of me.”

And more importantly, a reason to think well of myself.

“It’s all right to need a little help sometimes,” he says. “You must realize that you helped me long before I helped you. Or have you forgotten? If anything, I owed you one.”

The drinking. I was what made him finally stop and take back his life.

I had forgotten. I’d been too caught up in accepting so much from him. But I saved him just as much as he ever saved me.

That’s what a partnership looks like.

That’s what love looks like.

That word still makes me uncomfortable. I can’t say that I’m ready for it yet. But I am ready to see where this goes. To try. To open myself to someone who will not think less of me for being me.

“Almost forgot,” Kearan says. He goes to the floor where I discarded his coat before climbing into the bath. He reaches into one of the many pockets and pulls out the last thing I’d expected to see.

It’s the tricorne he gifted me our first day at sea.

“How did you …?”

“I snagged it before Vengeance went down. I hoped you might accept it eventually.”

“Where have you been keeping it all this time?”

“Close to my heart.”

The answer is ridiculous, but I adore it anyway. He reaches his hand out and puts the tricorne on my head. It gets caught on my ponytail, so I undo it and regather my hair closer to my neck.

“I like you,” I say, even though the words are as sharp to my consciousness as any blade is to my body.

“I like you more,” he says.

“That may have been true once. I don’t think so anymore.”

“No?”

I step closer, so we’re sharing the same breath.

“No.”

And I finally take the kiss I want.

Or rather, we share it.