Chapter 11
“ W ell, that didn’t go to plan,” Moll murmured from behind me.
I slowed my pace to let her get close enough that she could hear me whisper over the jangling of the heavy manacles around our wrists.
“Don’t worry, Moll. If he wanted us dead, they’d have killed us already. He’s keeping us alive for a reason.”
And if that reason was for us to wash dishes or scrub the galley, maybe it’d be worth it. It would give us access to both Hook and his crew, and hopefully we’d be able to get a lot more information about The Weeping Fen and find passage— safe passage—to get there.
Still, marching down the corridor in chains, flanked by pirates on every side, wasn’t exactly a win either.
Briefly, I considered offering a bribe with the gold I had tucked on the inside of my waistband, but I dismissed the idea immediately.
All that would do was give them gold plus two prisoners.
Better to keep my mouth shut and listen and look for a way out when one presented itself.
The crews were staying a few days, if the guard we’d spoken to outside of Davy’s ship could be trusted.
“Watch your step there, miss,” said the red-haired first mate—Xander, Hook had called him—as we reached an uneven spot on the deck. “This room on the left,” he added, jerking his thumb toward the open door.
I stepped inside, instantly relieved that it wasn’t a cell with bars. Moll made to follow me in when Xander stopped her short.
“No, miss. Cap wants you separated so he can ask you some questions. Your little brother will be in this room, and you’ll be across the hall.”
I risked a glance at Moll and noted that her cornflower eyes went wide.
How I wished that my recent ability to communicate with Fetch worked on human beings.
I could only hope that my eyes spoke volumes as I tried to tell her not to worry and to remember the story we’d come up with.
Her throat worked as she nodded and backed out of the doorway without argument.
“Have a seat. The Captain will be right with you,” Xander said before closing the door behind him.
The second I was alone I blew out a shuddering breath and took in my surroundings.
The room was small—nine by nine—and mostly bare, except for a weathered map on the wall and two chairs around a small table.
It was a smart play on the captain’s part if I did say so myself.
He wanted to speak to Moll and I individually so he could compare our stories and sniff out any lies.
But that didn’t mean he was on to us. I’d just witnessed him murder one of his own kind in cold blood, which led me to believe treachery was common enough between men like this. For all he knew, a rival crew had sent me to sabotage him, or worse.
Or maybe he somehow found out that you came from Neverland, and he is going to rip your fingernails out one by one until you share its location and give him information about his mortal enemies.
I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached as I made my way to the table and awkwardly pulled out a chair with my manacled hands. Maybe he’d be a while, and I’d have a little time to think of a new plan and consider all the possibilities.
No sooner had that thought come into my head than the door swung open, and the hulking form of Captain Hook filled the doorway.
“Harmon, they said your name was, right?” Hook asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
The already small room seemed three times smaller with him in it. Instead of taking the seat across from me, he chose to stand—towering over me, a move meant to intimidate. Rather than terror, I felt instant resentment at his attempt to cow me.
Fuck him.
But not like the other night...
I set my cuffed hands on the table, folding them together and pursing my lips as I fought the flush building in my cheeks.
If he thought I was going to just sit there and let his silence pressure me into running my mouth, he had another thing coming.
But I made sure to focus on a spot to the left of his face because I knew if I locked gazes with him, every carnal, delicious dream I’d ever had about him would rush through my mind, and my cheeks would go beet red.
“Is your bird just drawn to violence, or did you call him to you somehow?” he asked abruptly.
I weighed my answer carefully before replying. “He came to me of his own accord.”
Hook nodded and then used the gleaming edge of his hook to scratch lightly at his jaw. I could feel the heat of his stare boring into me.
“I think you know what I’m asking.” His voice was low and silky, hypnotic, when he spoke again. “Are you Tideblessed, boy?”
I did everything in my power not to let the confusion on my face show, but suddenly my eyes burned like all the hells—like I had to blink or die, except the move would signal weakness or, worse, subterfuge.
I held up one finger, and then tipped my head back, faking a loud sneeze. The move gave me a second to moisten my dry eyes and another to think. Did he want me to say yes or no? Which was less likely to get us killed in this situation?
One inky slash of an eyebrow shot up, a pulse in his jaw started to flicker, and I knew I’d stalled long enough.
If he could sense magic in me the way I could in him then lying would be a mistake. I said a little prayer in my mind as I rolled the dice.
“Yup. You guessed it. I’m Tideblessed.” I waited with bated breath, but when he narrowed his eyes in thought rather than yanking the sword from its scabbard, I figured I’d guessed right.
“You can talk to the falcon and he responds?” he pressed.
It seemed like a harmless enough admission. I’d keep my other talents hidden, only giving enough away to make myself useful enough to keep alive.
I cocked my head and then shook it slowly, relieved to be able to tell the truth for once. “It’s not really like that. It’s more that he knows what I want him to do, and I can feel his thoughts. But it’s not a conversation the way you and I are talking.”
He tugged the chair out and folded his big frame into the tiny seat.
When he opened his mouth to speak again, I made the crucial mistake of meeting his eyes.
It felt like all the air was sucked out of the room.
For a single heartbeat, there was no question in my mind that the dreams I’d had hadn’t been mine alone.
Mouths colliding in a desperate, almost savage, kiss.
Needy hands, rubbing, squeezing, sliding…
But the moment of certainty faded as quickly as it had come as he stared at me through cold, distant eyes.
“Prove it.”
This time, I did blink. A lot. Because I was so lost in the memory of what I’d let this man do to me in the dark of night, I’d completely lost the plot and had no earthly idea what he was talking about.
“P-prove what?”
“Call the bird.” He stood, walked to the door, and shoved it open. “Now.”
My stomach dropped to my toes. While I’d sent mental messages to Fetch when he was on my shoulder, when I wanted him to return to me from a distance, I usually just whistled.
This mind meld stuff was all pretty new.
What if I tried it and he didn’t show? For all I knew, he could be too far away and my questionable power didn’t even reach that far.
Hook made his way back over to the table, the heavy footfall of his boots echoing through the tiny room. Then, he laid his arm on the back of his chair and pinned me with another hard stare. “Have we met before, Harmon?”
I shook my head. “No, we have not. Not before tonight, sir.”
“Then what makes you think I should trust your word?”
“Forgive me, sir, but I don’t recall ever suggesting that you should. I’m only hesitant to call Fetch to me because, if I fail for some reason, I fear you might decide to cut my head off. And I-I’d rather you didn’t do that, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Call. The. Bird.”
I opened my mouth to try and argue again, but saw the set of his firm lips and knew it was a lost cause. So I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to think of nothing but Fetch.
Come to me, my friend. Please…
The second I felt the pressure start to form between my eyes, and the spark of magic in my chest, Hook blew out an impatient sigh and my eyes snapped wide.
“Can you, like, step back a little or turn around, maybe? You’re sort of hulking over me and it’s?—”
His nostrils flared and his face twisted into a thunderous frown.
“You know what, it’s fine.” I waved a hand. “I’ll make it work.”
For the next few minutes, I concentrated, using everything I had to draw my falcon to me. Mental pleas, threats, and the promise of all manner of entrails and other delicacies. But when I opened my eyes a sliver to peek at the door, there was still no Fetch.
Fucking hells.
“If you can’t call the bird, I’ve no use of you, and certainly not of your sister. Shall I tell Xander to prepare the plank, then?”
Shit.
“Are you sure he’s even on the ship still? Maybe he went out for a hunt and he’s too far away. Please, sir, I would ask that you give me and my sister a chance to prove our worth. Falcon or no, I’d be a real asset to your crew.”
“Would you?” He stayed down his nose at me, his lips pulling into a frown. “And why is that?”
“Because I really need a job, so no one would work harder than me. My father is blind—” I mumbled the next bit, “freak accident with bees—and he can no longer take care of our family. My sister, although beautiful, suffers from a condition that causes her to, um, sleepwalk. I’ll be blunt, sir, her eyes are wide open when she does it and it’s creepy as hell, so she has no prospects for a husband.
Zero. I’m the sole provider for Mother, Da, Molly, and Fetch, my falcon.
The hope was to find a pirate crew that I could learn the ropes from and make enough money to support the people I love. That’s always been my dream.”
The gleaming hook scraped along the wooden table, leaving a jagged scar in its path as he leaned forward—so close I could smell the rum on his breath. “Dreams are just nightmares waiting to happen, boy. So I’m going to do you a favor and deny you yours now.”
Something in his dark eyes told of pain like I’d never seen, and I wished I could turn away. I wanted to reply but knew if I tried to swallow past the knot in my throat, it would have reverberated through the room like a cannon blast.
A whoosh ing sound broke the spell, and I turned to see Fetch flying toward me, landing smoothly on my shoulder and nuzzled close.
I’m here.
I reached up to scratch at his neck and blew out a shuddering breath. I had no idea what would’ve happened if Fetch hadn’t been a fucking champion among birds and come through for me, and I wasn’t about to question it. He was here now, and that was all that mattered.
“Alright, then.” Hook glanced at Fetch and then back at me again before he made his way to the doorway, fixing me with one last, steely stare.
“We just lost our crow’s nest spotter, and I’m thinking you and the falcon can be of use to me in the short term, so no plank…
today, at least.” He shifted his weight, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You’ll start as a deckhand, and we’ll see how that goes.
Your sister can work in the galley. I’ll warn you now, though.
You’ll quickly be cured of the notion that pirating is all gold and glamor. It’s a brutal life, Harmon.”
I managed to keep my voice steady. “I really appreciate the chance, sir. I promise to make you proud.”
The pirate’s hook glinted under the warm light of the room’s lantern as he tapped it against the doorframe. “I doubt that.” He let those words hang in the air for a beat before turning on his heel to leave, shutting the door behind him with a metallic click.
The echo of his footsteps vanished down the corridor, and I let out a shaky breath as relief flooded my chest. Why, though, I couldn’t say.
I hadn’t found us a guide to The Fen, and I was still chained on the ship of a pirate who had proven his reputation within the first ninety seconds of me laying eyes on him.
Never mind knowing that he’d killed a child.
That was enough to send whatever lust rolled through me into a shame spiral worthy of a whirlpool to the depths of the sea.
The last thing I should’ve been doing right now was celebrating.
Especially since the reward for all this—assuming we were able to escape, and every other facet of our ludicrous plan went off without a hitch—was to head to The Weeping Fen and face off against a killer croc for a clock that everyone I knew in this place was also trying to get for themselves.
“There’s no place like home…”
Gayelette’s prophetic words rang so true that my soul fairly hummed with them.
Home.
A place I didn’t remember, but longed for with every fiber of my being. The only way to get back there was by seeing this through. And yeah, maybe I’d taken one step forward, two steps back. But I was still in the fight.
“You can do it,” I whispered under my breath.
I shifted on the hard wooden chair with a renewed sense of resolve.
One challenge at a time, Harmon, I reminded myself. One challenge at a time.