Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
O nce Kent was on the other ship, Mo could see him no longer. He still kept his head above the surface to hear what he could, but it wasn’t much, unable to discern anything with all the commotion still happening between both the vessels.
Soon after, the pirates pulled away the planks and the two ships were separated. The sun brought morning light and glistened in bright streaks across the sleek surface of the ocean, painting it and the sky stark colors of orange and maroon. As beautiful as it was, Mo could hardly enjoy the sight when dread still simmered in his stomach. The pirates tugged and twisted the sails, slowly turning their ship around toward facing the sun itself. At least they appeared competent in that sense, pointing the ship in the right direction that Mo remembered where they came from.
It was useless to stay above the surface waiting. Kent wasn’t going to appear again. Possibly for a while. His stomach growled at him, angry for not eating since before having rum yesterday. Fine, I suppose I should head back under.
While beneath the surface, he checked out the underside of the pirate ship. The Sterling Mer had a white paint splatter marking her, but this time he found no such thing. She looked just as plain brown and boring as any other ship. Great. He might lose her if he so much as fell asleep, but he couldn’t stay awake for the length of half a moon. If only he could find Noon again. Perhaps she was nearby.
Thankfully, there were no other ships around in this part of the water to confuse him. As long as he stayed in her path, he could keep up. Below him, he actually spotted the outskirts of a merfolk city. He didn’t remember passing by it before, but then again, he was on The Sterling Mer the entire night. Of course he wasn’t paying attention to that.
But as his stomach rumbled again, he knew he should at least stop for a moment.
He still had quite a bit of coin leftover in the coin purse in his carry-bag, seeing as he rarely stopped in cities and ate quite a lot of human cuisine aboard The Sterling Mer. That, or he simply caught fish himself. But with no prospects of getting any more delicious human-cooked meals any time soon, the least he could do to make himself feel better was to go buy some comfort food.
As he swam away from the food vendor and munched on some delicious squid tentacles, he mulled over the situation at hand. Kent was now captured by pirates. Mo understood that his plan was to be delivered back to England safely, and Kent’s father would pay the pirates money in order to let The Sterling Mer go free. All Mo could do was trust that the pirates stick true to their word and keep Kent unharmed. But how could he trust pirates ? The most horrible stories stood out in his mind, the ones he remembered those old English sailors had told him, of how pirates torture their prisoners and violate their hostages. They were nothing but cruel and ruthless men who took joy in causing harm, which helped Mo justify his choice in sinking them with his Song.
But they did seem to at least have a sense of order and camaraderie. Democratic, as he remembered the pirate Captain Young said. Hopefully, that sphere of beliefs would hold strong and ensure Kent stayed safe. Really, all Mo could do was hope.
The day went on, and Mo swam along with the ship. Rays of sunlight cast their way into the water and highlighted the silver backs of dolphins, scurrying past in couples and families. He even saw some whales off in the distance, but none who were similar to Noon. There weren’t many merfolk out this way—most seemed to congregate in the city—only passing a few others who swam below him. He didn’t bother confiding his situation to any of them because, really, what would they do? Laugh at him for caring about a human? Tell him to simply use his Song and be done? It was useless.
But then—one of the whales in the distance swam at a slow pace, steadily closer. It was then he realized he recognized that silhouette: a long, flat back, with a dorsal fin near the rear, closer to her fluke. Could it be…?
“Mo, is that you?”
“Noon!”
He rushed toward her and threw his arms around her large head, rubbing his face against her coarse skin in a welcoming embrace. He couldn’t be more glad to see a familiar face.
“Noon, oh seas, I’m so happy to see you again.”
“I could not find you by the ship we were trailing. I was worried about what may have happened to you.”
He let go of her and backed up, circling around and kicking his tail so he could be closer to her eye. “That’s because I had to change which ship I’m following. Can you believe it, my beloved human got captured by pirates! Oh Noon, I’ve been so distraught.”
He then relayed the details to her to catch up: how he stayed the night aboard The Sterling Mer , how during his stay the ship was attacked, and how Kent offered himself up to the pirates to let their ship go free. At least Allen was with Kent so he wasn’t completely alone with those barbarians, albeit the sailing master was injured.
“Dear me, that is quite the predicament you have yourself in. I had not realized your beloved boarded the sloop. I am terribly sorry.” Noon closed her eyes for a moment as she regarded him. “I am right alongside you; I hope your human stays safe on the remainder of the journey back.”
“Thank you, Noon. I feel so foolish. If I wasn’t on the ship, if I came back to you for the night, perhaps none of this would’ve happened. We could’ve seen the ship and avoided contact with the pirates at all.”
Noon gently swayed her large head from side to side. “Do not blame yourself. That pirate ship is a sloop—a very fast one. Even if we may have seen her coming, The Sterling Mer may have not been fast enough to outspeed her. There is no way of knowing.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Mo nodded, rubbing his elbows. “All we can do is deal with it. Kent should be all right. I hope.”
They swam alongside each other in companionable silence for some time, staying close to the surface for Noon to breathe. Soaking up the sun rays, avoiding jellyfish, and Noon opened her great cave of a mouth to feed on unsuspecting schools of small fish.
“Did you ever tell your human what you needed to tell him before you two departed?” she asked after she swallowed.
“What I needed to…? What do you mean?”
“You needed to tell him you love him.”
“Oh!” How could he be so dense? Of course that was what she meant. His mind was just so scattered it was hard to think clearly. “Yes, I did. I told him I love him. He said the same thing back—he loves me too. I cannot tell you how glad I am that our feelings are mutual. But no sort of shift occurred after that. As you can see, I’m still a merman.”
“I see…” Noon hummed. “I am glad for you, too. But, like yourself, I am curious. You told him you love him? Without a doubt, he feels the same way?”
“Yes. There is no room for error. He said it multiple times, and we… we…” He could feel his face heating as he remembered the intimacy they shared after speaking those words. “We enjoyed ourselves.”
“I understand that. But he loves you completely? Wholly? Truthfully?”
“Yes, of course, he—” Mo halted.
Wait.
Truthfully?
His mind swirled and wrapped around that word. Noon had said it before in her knowledge of the shift to become human, but Mo had simply glanced over it. It meshed with everything else she’d said and became just as similar of a word as the others: completely, wholly. He was sure of that with Kent and their feelings. How deep their connection went, stirring up something inside his chest that he could feel pulse, like another source of magic. Completely, wholly, in love.
But truthfully?
He raised his hand to pet Noon’s side, and she noticed, slowing her swimming pace.
“I haven’t been truthful to Kent.”
Noon let out what he could only describe as a worrisome groan. “You have not?”
“No. I’ve realized… I lied to him. He does not know I’m a siren. Instead, I told him I’m just a normal merman.”
“That is troublesome.” She puffed out a breath from her wide mouth, blowing bubbles in front of her. “Do you plan to correct this and tell him the truth? Because, otherwise, you may never get your wish fulfilled. You will never gain legs.”
Not only that, as Noon didn’t say it but Mo could tell she might be thinking it—Kent would continue to love a false version of Mo.
Kent didn’t know—he had no clue of Mo’s instinctual, primal desires.
If Kent truly was the one meant for him, as he felt with their connection clutching deep tentacles around his heart, he knew he had to come forth and let the truth free eventually.
“I will let him know,” he finally said. “I don’t know how or when, but… I do need to let him know.”
But would he forgive me for lying?
Noon hummed in agreement, and they kept swimming along, never losing sight of the pirate ship.
Kent was dragged in front of the pirate crew on their main deck, wrist held in a firm, unshakable grip by the fierce Captain Young. Their captain went over the details with the men who may not have heard, signaling their change in direction toward England, and reiterated the fact that Kent was to remain unharmed—and unmolested. Kent’s stomach twisted as some of the men scowled at that, licking their lips as if Kent were simply a whore they wished to ravage. Oh Lord, please spare me. But the money promised by Kent was enough to hold them back, and Young dragged him down belowdecks, followed by Allen slung by a couple other pirates.
“You two are to be watched over by Seth,” Young said as they made their way through the wooden forecastle. “Seth only prefers women so he should not worry your sweet arse, and—oh! He’s also a mer-fucker, just like you. Imagine that. You should be in great company.”
Once they reached the small room at the far front of the ship, the pirate Young had mentioned rushed in behind them, shoving past his captain and into the room.
Seth was a young man, appearing the same age as Kent himself. He was quite thin, long limbs and standing tall. Pale skin flushed red by exertion, and he had long, wavy black hair covering the shoulders of his teal frock coat. He panted, breath after breath, resting his hands on his knees. “Apologies, Captain! I merely wished to finish my meal. I had no time to eat with all the commotion going on, as you know.”
Young rolled his eyes, then shoved Kent further into the room—bumping into Seth and having to catch his balance on the pirate’s shoulders. “You could have waited,” Young said without any real malice. “You’ve already been informed of your new station. Watch over these two. Don’t let them above deck for whatever reason.”
Kent righted himself, patting down the front of his frock coat. “Whatever reason?”
“You’re a hostage. A prisoner. You don’t get special privileges. You’ll be set free if your father pays the ransom. If not, remember, you promised we could have our way with you.” He gave an eerie, lecherous grin.
“Well, yes, but?—”
“Enough!” Young coughed. “Mend your companion here.” He motioned to the other pirates who were on standby and they walked Allen into the room, setting him down upright onto the wooden floor against the wall. “The quicker his recovery, the quicker he can join us. What materials do you need?”
Kent knelt next to Allen, taking in the scope of the injury. What he needed to do was pull the wood from his arm straight away; he was afraid it was already left open like this for too long. But Allen stayed alert and in good spirits, despite his groans and wobbled movements, and Kent gently asked for the things he needed to repair his comrade’s wound. Young left with the other two pirates, shutting the door behind them, leaving Kent and Allen alone with Seth, who lit a candle on the sole dresser. There was one small porthole window in the room, yet it was clouded with grime, not letting in much sunlight. There were also only two hammocks; was one of them to sleep on the floor?
Soon enough, another pirate named Grant who claimed he was the surgeon of their own ship entered, and knelt down next to Kent, giving him the items he requested. Kent assisted Allen with removing his blood-stained shirt, careful around his bicep to not anger the wound further. With his own hand wrapped in a clean cloth, Kent tugged at the bloody piece of wood, pulling and prodding ever so gently, before it loosened and dislodged from Allen’s arm. The redhead moaned in pain and Kent winced at the excruciating sound, setting the offending wood down. After he unwrapped his hand, Grant handed Kent a bottle of rum, and Kent offered it to Allen.
“Drink.”
Allen obliged, taking in the substance eagerly as Kent held up the mouth of the bottle to his lips.
“Oi, could I get some of that as well?” Seth piped in from behind.
Kent’s face twisted in confusion, setting the bottle down onto the floor. “I suppose you could…?” What kind of question is that? “Please give it back when you’re done, though, I’m not done with it.”
Seth swiped the bottle as Kent moved onward to treating Allen, taking tweezers and pulling out, meticulously, each small sliver of wood that was still embedded in the wound. He used the clean cloth to soak up any remaining blood, hushing Allen’s groans and telling him reassurances softly that he was doing great. Hopefully, this would be the only injury he needed to tend to on the remainder of their journey, and also hopefully, he was quick enough to ensure him a full recovery.
“I’m going to need a lot of this stuff if I’m to stay down here watching you two,” said Seth, setting the bottle back down. “Young better let me above deck every now and then. I assume he will, right? I need the fresh air!”
I’d like fresh air too, Kent thought, but didn’t wish to push his luck by saying it aloud.
“Of course he’ll let you up,” said Grant. “You’re not a prisoner, are you?”
“I suppose not. Well!” Seth let out an obnoxious, exasperated sigh.
Kent proceeded to take the bottle and splashed a bit of rum into Allen’s wound. He groaned again, but Kent hushed him, ensuring that this was for the best to clean it as he finally covered and wrapped the injury in another clean cloth. “I know it hurts, but please, endure it,” he said as he held his hand over the cloth, giving pressure. “You’re doing very well.”
“Thank you, Fareham,” said Allen, after another moan.
“You’re welcome. Do you need another drink?”
“Yes, please.”
Grant tipped the bottle to Allen’s lips. After he drank, Kent asked the surgeon if he could fetch him a needle and thread to stitch the wound. Grant nodded, got up, and left, leaving the two alone with Seth again.
So this was to be Kent’s ‘home’ for the next fortnight. At least he thought it’d been a couple weeks since they departed England on The Sterling Mer, and desperately hoped it wouldn’t take longer than that. Also, at least, he had a familiar face to give him company. But at what cost?
“Allen, I… I’m terribly sorry that this all happened. That you became caught up in this mess,” he said, keeping his hand steady on the wrapped wound.
The sailing master shook his head. “Don’t burden yourself with the thought.”
“But, despite my initial conditions, you agreed to join the pirate’s crew! Do you realize the repercussions of that? You cannot return to England without careful consideration… Now that you’ll be branded a pirate, you cannot go onshore without fear of the noose.”
Allen shrugged with his good shoulder. “The sea has been my home for some time, anyway. I haven’t had a permanent home on land for at least a couple years since joining Brooks’s crew. Perhaps it’s the merman in me, keeping me at sea.”
Kent wanted to chuckle, but worrisome thoughts still creeped in his head. “But these men… did you hear some of the comments they said about me? These are not good people.”
“Oi, watch your tongue!” Seth retorted, taking a seat on the hammock closest. “Sure, some of the other men are bad, but you haven’t properly known me. I am a wonderful person, who’d never say that about you!”
Kent gave a humorless smirk. “Well, thank you, I suppose.”
“Those men need some more dignity when it comes to finding creatures they wish to fuck. You can’t simply intimidate them with menacing threats! You need to be calm, charming, and persuasive. Gauge the other party’s interest if they’d enjoy the same, first.”
Kent and Allen looked at each other, dumbfounded. Is this man really saying this to us? they silently said to each other via their shared curious expressions.
Well, it seemed like their strange pirate companion would give them some entertainment for the voyage ahead, at least.
If only I could see Mo. He said he would follow the ship; I know he is doing so right now. The same tingling feeling swirled around in his chest, pulsing so peculiarly. It had to be some sort of magic. The connection that was tying them together, signaling to Kent that Mo had to be nearby.
Kent let out a deep breath. He was relieved to know—and feel —that no matter what, his beloved merman would hold to his promise to stay close.