Chapter 35 Shadows on the Salt Wind #3
There’s a clicking, a rhythmic tap of wood on wood. The flare of light from a swinging lantern wielded by an old man on a peg leg who limps out from a side door.
“Who goes there?” His voice is an ancient croak, the brim of his hat, torn and turned down, shadows half his bearded face.
“It’s me,” Cyprian calls. “We met earlier, discussed passage to Helgate.”
The navigator herds Rowan and I forward and the door clanks shut behind us with a harsh, protesting whine. A noise with a sort of finality to it.
The old man frowns, a look that showcases the gap in the row of crooked teeth lining his thin mouth. “Aye. Where’s the other fellow? The one with the payment.”
Cyprian’s tone turns clipped. Irritated. “He’ll be along shortly.”
“Who?” I ask, trying to imagine what other member of the crew would be daring enough to betray the pirate.
Slowly, Cyprian turns to me, a distinct shift in his expression.
The set of his jaw seems tighter, the green of his eyes a shade cooler.
It’s eerie, that transformation. It hollows something out inside of me, like fruit spooned from a peel.
“Berries from a nightshade bush, bitter yarrow stem, the flowerhead from a dowl plant, and at least four vervain leaves. Did I get it right?”
“What?” I stumble a fraction.
He steps closer and a cruel smile splits his face.
I don’t understand. Not even when the door clanks open again behind us, and the man who haunted my dreams for a good eight years steps through.
Slick brown hair, a scarred face. One milky white eye, the other brown as mud. Harlow grins through the shadows.
“Black,” Cyprian nods.
Seeing him is like a cold fist wrapped tight around my heart. Like the organ can’t beat, can’t expand enough to pump blood through me. A roaring takes up in my ears as I shove Rowan behind me and try in earnest to call up the silver flame that won’t come.
The fucking potion! How? How did Cyprian know?
Before anyone can move to stop me, I ram my finger down my throat. A gag seizes me; acrid elixir and bile rise and spill from my mouth.
Harlow only looks annoyed, like he’s missing something important to be here with us, but he snaps at the two figures behind him. “Grab her.”
They do. I kick and scream and spit saliva thick vomit in their faces, but they hold fast. And I’m not sure if I got enough of the mixture up to help.
“Rowan, run!” I scream.
Fuck, how are we back here? It’s like the beach all over again. We sailed a whole ocean just to end up right where we started.
Rowan doesn’t move, but when I try to crane my neck back to see what’s stopping her, Harlow steps forward and grabs a fistful of my hair, forcing my gaze forward onto his vicious smirk.
The white scar interrupting his ruined eye gleams starkly.
He’s got a fresh one, too, star shaped, newly healed, where his hairline meets his temple, courtesy of the chains he tried to bind me in.
“So,” he sneers. “We know iron doesn't do shit to subdue you, but your mother’s potion works wonders, eh, Little Fury?”
A growl bubbles up inside of me. White hot rage that could burn all on its own. I seethe against the men restraining me, snap my teeth an inch from Harlow’s nose.
“How?” The snarl echoes off the decaying wood and rusting metal around us. “How did you know about the potion?” My eyes flit to Cyprian, who’s watching it all with a look of quiet amusement.
I should have known. Should have guessed. But why would Rhyland have told him?
“I can be quite silent when I want to. All it took was following you on Mòr’s island.
Listening in on you spilling your heart, and ingredients, to Talon.
Amazing, how unaware of his surroundings he became when he was so absorbed by you.
A different man entirely. We all have our weaknesses though, don’t we?
Even gods. I thought for certain he was on to me.
He knew someone had betrayed him. Felt like he was closing in.
I panicked and had to plant evidence, make that poor squawking kid look guilty.
Would rip Talon to shreds to know he pitched an innocent boy overboard to drown for eternity. ”
My knees bend on their own volition. I try to spring forward, to break free so I can attack him, but the men on either side of me hold firm.
“Then,” he continues, “there was the little matter of getting close to you. Slowly gaining your trust, or at least, planting seeds of doubt for Talon. Gods, I was terrified it hadn’t worked.
That after weeks of fucking him on that ship you’d never try to escape again, but, alas, you’re such an elusive, untrusting little bitch, aren’t you?
I tried though. Tried to sway you. Charm you. Didn’t you notice?”
Harlow lets out a huff and rolls his eyes before stepping between us.
“Enough. We don’t have all night to unveil your master plan, Cyprian.
You need to return to the ship, tell him how she ran off after poisoning his crew.
We need to get her secured below before he shows up and rips the place apart.
We can’t lose her again. Put her out, Lorn. ”
Lorn, the guard to my right, lifts the hilt of his blade, ready to strike me in the head with it when the shout rips from my lips.
“Wait! Harlow, wait.”
I almost choke on the terror, and certainly don’t expect him to listen, but he raises a hand, stopping his guard, smirking again.
“Yes, Little Fury?”
I struggle to turn toward Rowan. “Let her go. Just let her go and I’ll do whatever you want, okay? She has no part in this at all. She’s of no use to you.”
His smirk grows broad, sharp canines glistening with malice.
“Rowan?” he asks, lazily unbuttoning his shirt cuffs to roll the sleeves to his elbows. “Do you want to leave?”
Cold confusion becomes a knot inside of me as Rowan steps by the guard on my left to settle into Harlow’s shadow. Her brown eyes are meek and fixed on the space above my head.
“No.”
A small chuckle comes from Harlow. “I didn’t think so. Lorn, do it now.”
There isn’t enough time to register—to digest—to do much of anything before Lorn’s meaty fist brings the solid steel hilt down sharp against my skull.