Chapter 21
Her words struck me like lightning. I found myself sinking into my seat, my mouth agape and my heart dropping into my stomach.
“That was a quick assessment,” Ramaro spoke up as he scowled at Baba. “What makes you think we can’t get her home?”
“Because this woman is not from our world, and that’s a one-way trip.”
I could feel the blood run cold in my veins. My body began to shake, so I grasped my knees tightly in both hands. It didn’t help. “Then this. . .this really isn’t my world?”
“How are you so sure about any of this?” Ramaro questioned our hostess.
Baba scoffed and waved a hand at me. “Does she wear our clothes? Speak our words? Look at her eyes. Those eyes are unfamiliar with our seas. Our skies. She looks at my magic trappings, and I can smell the fear on her. It’s a scent of unfamiliarity. She doesn’t know anything about this world.”
I dropped my eyes to the floor. My whole chest felt like a great pressure was settling on it.
I had trouble breathing. But none of it mattered.
All I could think about was her final words.
I couldn’t get back home. I’d never see Tim again.
Tears sprang into my eyes. I was trapped. Trapped and alone.
A hand came into view. I looked up to find Torvus standing above me. “Come with me.”
I blinked at him, and a few loose tears slid down my cheeks. “Why?”
“Because I have something to show you.”
I opened my mouth to plead frailty, but something in his eye stopped me. Maybe it was the sincerity or the touch of kindness in those depths. I swallowed the lump in my throat and set my hand in his. He helped me up and led me to the door.
Ramaro made to follow us, but Baba grabbed his tail. “Stay here, lizard. This isn’t the time for you.”
He glared at her at the violence on his appendage, but plopped himself back down on the chair. We slipped out of the house and into the early afternoon air. Baba’s street was quiet, as were all the others down which he guided me.
“Where are we going?” I asked him.
He didn’t look at me as he replied. “You’ll see.”
The silence was filled with questions that bounced around in my head. One came to the forefront. “How did you sneak into Baba’s house, anyway?”
He flashed me a mischievous grin. “I am a pirate.”
“That doesn’t explain how you can get into a witch’s house without her knowing and sit down opposite me without me seeing you.”
“I have my ways.”
We wound our way through the meandering roads, and the upward slope gradually led us above the roofs of some of the lower houses.
I looked over my shoulder and glimpsed a view of the bay between the trees and rooftops.
The waters sparkled and ships floated leisurely through the mirroring starlight.
Birds flew overhead, cawing at each other and the world beneath them.
Something ahead caught my attention, a break in the buildings.
A wrought-iron fence came into focus, though many of the staves were hidden by mounds of green and brown vines.
I slowed at the fence as we followed its length and peered beyond the plants.
A small open plot of land presented itself to us.
Huge oak trees cast much of the ground in shadow, but I could still make out the countless ancient hunks of stone that stood in jagged rows.
They were tombstones.
My already cold blood dropped a degree or two at the sight of those memorials to the dead.
Most were covered in moss and vines. Some were even half-buried in the ground, and others had toppled long ago.
A few recent ones stood tall and proud, their unweathered stone shining proudly amidst the decay.
A small gate lay open and slightly askew on its rusted hinges. We passed through the opening and into the graveyard.
I dug my heels into the ground and stopped aside. Torvus looked over his shoulder at me. “Is something wrong?”
I snorted and nodded at our surroundings. “Is this a shortcut to where you really want to take me?”
A crooked smile slipped onto his lips. “No. There’s something in here I want to show you.”
My face drooped as I swept my eyes over the inhabitants. “I hope it’s not an open grave.”
“Not exactly.”
We traipsed through the knee-high grass and wildflowers, mindful to step over the fallen headstones and avoid the half-hidden pots that had once held flowers.
A few mausoleums occupied larger plots, and angels wept over their doorways.
Low-hanging branches shaded benches overgrown with vines and weeds.
But through it all, I began to notice a path beneath our feet.
The grass wasn’t quite as tall, and the trail guided us safely through the ruin of time and vandals.
The path led us toward a towering structure situated in the center of the graveyard.
As we neared the behemoth of granite, I noticed more paths led to the monument.
We stopped at the base of the heavy stone pedestal. The grass was well-trampled, and the weeds had been pulled from around the base. A huge slab of spotted dark gray marble rose from the pedestal up eight feet high and three feet wide, creating a monolith, the shadow of which stretched across us.
The darkness also stretched over a mountain of trinkets that covered the pedestal. Beer bottles, cigarettes, and pieces of paper littered the area. There were layers upon layers of the stuff, creating a record of adoration. Or at least, I think that’s what it was.
What caught most of my attention was the small stone ship perched atop the monolith. The vessel featured four masts, each with three sails. A name was inscribed on the side. Brigid. The words on the monolith themselves read as follows:
Captain Sam Morgan. Born, no man knows. Died on a stormy winter’s eve in 1347. Buried at sea. Marked by these stones and the tales he left behind.
I looked to my companion. “What is this?”
He had a soft smile on his lips as he examined the plaque. “The life marker of the pirate captain Sam Morgan. He died nearly a century ago.”
I pointed at the pile of rotting material. “Are these from his victims?”
“No, from his admirers.” He stooped and plucked a half-finished cigar from the pile. “They come here to celebrate after a haul and give thanks to the captain.”
I blinked at him. “Was he that important?”
Torvus stood and pressed his palm against the face of the monolith.
His shimmering eye looked up at the ship atop the stone.
“He was the most important pirate because he was the first to sail seas that no man had ever seen, and he came back with riches no man could ever hope to count in a single lifetime. He founded Rynek, the first of many ports he used as his personal supply line. Other colonies sprouted from them, and many sailors ventured out to make their own fortune.” He stepped back and admired the whole picture.
“I stood by this stone as a boy and dreamed of sailing those same seas and making my fortune as he had done.”
My eyes lit up. “You were raised in Rynek?”
He flashed me a mischievous smile. “Born no man knows, but raised here, yes. I set sail from the docks years ago and earned my ship and my crew. While I haven’t earned my fortune, few men can say they’ve lived a life as full as mine.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Why are you telling me all of this?”
“I found my purpose in life at this gravestone,” he explained as his gentle eye studied me. “If what Baba says is true, you can’t return to your past. You need to look elsewhere for your future.”
My face drooped. “And you think I’ll find it at a grave?”
He chuckled. “A grave is only bad luck if it’s yours.”
I returned my attention to the slabs of stone. My thoughts wrapped around what he had told me. My purpose. A new purpose. No more dreams of singing for large crowds. No more Tim. That’s what I regretted the most. I missed him already.
I distracted myself by studying the trinkets left by the grateful sailors. I knelt and plucked a piece of scrap paper from the mess, one of dozens of others. Both sides were blank. “What are these for?”
Torvus chuckled. “To convince the captain to draw his treasure map on them. None of his spoils were ever found, and sailors hope to bribe his soul to draw a map that leads to his loot if they offer him drink and smokes.”
I couldn’t lift my eyes from the trinkets. “Did you put one here?”
“When I was young.”
“Did the captain answer your paper?”
“No, but-” I heard a rustle and looked up to see him reach into his coat. He drew out a small, blank piece of paper and tossed the slip onto the pile. “Here’s to hoping the captain blesses my paper, or at least my sails.”
I stared at the blank paper. My mind swirled with questions, but one floated to the surface. “Why are you doing this for me?” I looked up at him and searched his face. “Why bother showing me this? Telling me these things?”
A bittersweet smile slipped onto his lips. “You mean, why do I care?”
I winced. “I didn’t want to put it like that.”
“Put it like that if that’s how you feel,” he gently scolded me as he studied the grave. His eyebrows knitted together. “Maybe I want to use you.”
My mouth dropped open, and a few strangled words came from me. “What now?”
“There’s something important about you,” he commented as he looked down at me. “Something important enough that you were dragged from your world and into mine. There’s a reason for that, and I want to know what it is.”
My heart fell, and I turned my face away. I wrapped my arms around myself and tamped down some tears. “I. . .I see.”
A hand came into my view again. I dared to look up and found him with a small smile on his lips. “That’s why I’m offering you a place on my ship.”
I whipped my head up and blinked at him. “Say what?”
“It won’t be an easy life, and it most definitely won’t be a safe one, but it might help you find your purpose.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “What about the bed?”
His face remained stoic. “As a member of the crew, you should sleep below decks in a hammock.”
My face drooped. “Really?”
He burst out laughing before he grasped my hand and pulled me to my feet. I fell against his chest and found myself staring up into his blue eye. “Do you really think I’d give you to anyone else?”
A heavy blush accented my cheeks, and I dropped my gaze to his chest. I toyed with one of the frills on his shirt. “Could I. . .could I have some time to think it over?”
“Yes, but don’t dawdle too long. The rest of the crew won’t like it.”
I cocked my head to one side. “Why not? They want me below deck?”
“Part of the reason for your going ashore was for Baba to take a look at you.”
“And the other one?”
“We had to get you off to cleanse the curse of a woman from the ship.”
My face drooped, and I leaned back to take in his full features. “They still think I’m bad luck?”
“Didn’t Ramaro tell you about their oddities?”
“Cook told me something about it. I guess I was just hoping everyone was joking.”
He guided me back down the path that had led us to the memorial. “Let’s just say you should treat everything we say as truth until you learn it’s a lie.”
I frowned at him. “That doesn’t sound like a good policy.”
He tapped the tip of my nose as we neared the open gate. “But it may keep you out of trouble.”
Torvus spoke too soon as shadows appeared in the exit. Unfriendly shadows.