Chapter 2 Land Ho!
Calla
Calla hesitated as she approached the companionway leading out of the officers’ quarters.
Just the smallest falter in her footsteps, barely worthy of notice, but it was there, and she despised herself for it.
She pushed through. This was her ship. She belonged on it just as much as everyone else in her crew.
Except that as soon as she surfaced on deck, the shouts and barbs of pirates hard at work quietened.
Their voices dimmed under the soft pattering of rain on canvas and the slap of waves against the hull.
If anyone was slacking before, they weren’t now, working in dogged silence, heads lowered and backs turned as Calla’s boots clicked on the slick deck planks.
It should’ve pleased her. It would’ve pleased any other captain, this exaggerated display of respect, except that she saw right through it.
Heard right through it.
At her back, by the mizzenmast, one of her pirates was complaining to Thorian about their dwindling supplies, under his voice, thinking Calla couldn’t hear him from half a deck away. But she heard them as clearly as if they’d been standing right next to her, courtesy of her new… changes.
“If you’ve got all this energy to complain, maybe your rations are still too generous,” Thorian said, a hint of mirth in his voice that the pirate definitely didn’t pick up on, considering his gasp of indignation.
“That’s ridiculous!”
Thorian hummed in thought. “I’ll have a talk with the cook. Your mates can thank you if they find their portions leaner than usual tonight.”
“You can’t do that!” the man snapped, just shy of shouting. “The captain should–”
“Oh? The captain’s right there. You’re welcome to pick this up with her.”
Silence.
If Calla stopped walking and looked back, she knew what she would see on the pirate’s face. She knew what was hiding behind each one of her sailor’s masks of obedience and respect.
Disdain. Disgust. Fear.
“Well?” Thorian prompted.
“Never fucking mind.”
Of course not. Calla didn’t know why she bothered getting disappointed anymore. It had been like this ever since the cave collapse. The crew wouldn’t meet her eyes. They wouldn’t come to her. The silence that settled on deck as she approached the helm bore down on her, heavy and suffocating.
Merrow was nowhere to be seen. Of course.
“I can’t chart you a course if I can’t see the stars,” he’d said last time she’d knocked at his door, not even bothering to invite her in. “Until you get us away from this storm, you might as well leave the navigating to Eryx.”
He’d shut the door in her face before she could say anything, and Calla’s cursedly improved hearing picked up on her navigator’s grumbles about ‘foolish goose chases across the seas’.
“Captain,” Eryx said, making room for her at the helm.
Some of the tension in Calla’s shoulders eased as she wrapped her fingers around the wheel. Eryx was the only pirate treating her the same as always, despite her failure to get them the promised treasure, despite Riley turning her into a–
No. She did not think of Riley.
Riley was the one person on this ship Calla wanted to see less than she wanted to see herself, and yet, wherever she turned, Riley showed up like a pest Calla couldn’t get rid of.
Unlike the rest of her crew, Riley looked Calla straight in the eye.
Smiling. Cracking jokes. Trying to linger.
Calla didn’t let her. She had no right. Riley had no right to try to appease her after what she’d done.
“Did we gain any ground?” Calla asked, looking out at the sea.
She did her best to ignore the prickle at the back of her neck that told her Riley was on deck. Watching her. Likely thinking up some excuse to come pester her.
“No,” Eryx said, shifting their weight on their feet.
Calla’s grip on the helm tightened. She looked out on the horizon, where the storm loomed, dark and angry and impenetrable.
“Are you sure the compass is still leading us to the Heart?”
Eryx sighed. “Yes,” they said. “I’m sure.”
Calla dismissed them with a sharp nod.
The same two questions, every day. The same two answers, every day.
For a fortnight they’d been following the compass’ lead, always pointing to this storm they’d been skirting the edges of.
Calla was not foolish enough to sail into it, but she followed as close as she dared.
A fortnight of navigating blind, of rain always lashing at their faces, soaking their collars, of this constant damp that never dried from their clothes.
And they still weren’t gaining on Sable.
How?
How was Sable keeping ahead of them, in a boat, in that storm, propelling herself with oars? No matter the strength of her arms, the Moonshadow should’ve caught up with her within a day, at most.
Sable had taken no supplies, nothing but one of the longboats and her trusty machete. No drinking water, no food, no protection from the elements. For all Calla knew, her first mate was lying on the bottom of the ocean, and the Heart had been stolen by a storm drake.
She immediately dismissed the thought but could do nothing about the flash of pain it ignited in her chest. Like a wound that wouldn’t close.
Calla had spent years trying to keep her first mate at arm’s length.
She hadn’t expected her absence to bludgeon her like a hammer to the ribs, a crushing force so unexpected she could barely breathe for it sometimes.
And she was gone with the cursed treasure that was supposed to make Calla human.
The same treasure that would’ve killed Riley if Sable hadn’t ripped it from her hands.
Riley had no right. It should’ve been Calla’s wish to make, Calla’s price to pay.
The result might’ve been the same, but no one should’ve taken that weight from her shoulders.
It should’ve been hers alone to bear. Whatever punishment for being blind enough to put her crew in danger for something she could’ve learned to live with? It should’ve been hers to bear.
Instead, Riley wore the Heart’s curse mark on her hands, and Calla was fine.
She breathed in, staring out at the frothing waves as she sat with the thought. She hated herself.
But she was fine.
Better than she’d ever been.
Never before had she been able to stand on deck, looking out at the water, and not feel the sea’s call in her veins, urging, compelling her to dive.
Staying out of the water brought no pain, no repercussions.
After dragging Riley out of the collapsed cave, Calla hadn’t as much as dipped her finger in a cup of water.
The very thought of swimming made her stomach roil.
She’d had enough of the sea and its claim on her.
Her entire life, she’d battled her nature, her compulsions–had seen herself as two separate entities.
Calla, the human captain who loved her life and her ship and her crew.
Someone who was fulfilled, and good at what she did.
Then the… beast, the selkie, locked up tight until Calla had no other choice but to acknowledge it had needs too.
Looming at the back of her mind always, just waiting to take over and rip everything she’d worked so hard to achieve out of her hands.
It was a curse she’d strived to free herself of before it consumed her. It was the one thing she’d wanted for herself because, despite being captain of this crew, she’d never been part of the crew. And now her skin was gone, and Calla felt more cursed than ever.
She would never set foot on land again, not when people would be able to tell at a glance that she was of the sea.
Her own crew would never see her as one of their own now, but she refused to belong to the sea.
And so here she was, trapped between two sides.
One that scorned her and one she scorned.
Calla’s eyes fell on her hands. The webbing between her fingers, preventing her from wearing gloves to hide them.
Her fingernails, black and glossy like wet stone, and prone to growing claw-like, forcing her to keep them trimmed to the quick.
Her skin, blue-hued and too smooth, unnervingly flawless, the scars from handling sails and rope gone without trace.
A sharp whistle snapped Calla’s attention to the crow’s nest.
“The Gullet’s rocks!” the pirate bellowed from up above.
Calla’s gaze shifted back to the horizon, eyes squinting, heart in her throat. She didn’t see it at first, but then–
There, coated by the mist and light drizzle of rain, the shadow of the Gullet loomed in the distance, as high and imposing as a mountain.
She let out a breath of pure relief at the sight.
This was the first good news she’d gotten since losing Sable.
They could resupply. They could prepare.
They could hire new crew after the losses they’d suffered.
Whoever wanted to leave could leave without fear of not making it back on land.
It was better luck than she’d dared hope for. Her pirates would only tolerate cut rations and fish and watered-down rum for so long before staging another mutiny.
Besides, if the compass had led them here, then maybe Sable had somehow found passage on another ship. It would explain why the Moonshadow hadn’t caught up to her yet. And maybe, just maybe, she was still here. Or someone might’ve seen her, and then Calla would at least know she was still alive.
She instructed Gadrielle to course-correct towards the Gullet, and approached the railing facing the middeck, peering at the excited-looking pirates beyond. For a moment, the corners of her mouth twitched in something dangerously resembling a smile.
“If you haven’t heard yet, we’re headed towards the Gullet,” Calla told them, taking note of shoulders slumping in relief.
“And yes, that means land leave. You get three days, including today.” That would be enough for Thorian to resupply and for her other officers to do some reconnaissance around the Gullet, see if anyone had heard anything about Sable or Kit, about where they might be headed to.
Calla inhaled deeply, trying to keep her expectations under wraps.
In her next breath, frost entered her voice.
“Whoever’s not back after that will have considered their place on this ship forfeited. Am I clear?”
The pirates stiffened then, their expressions sobering as if she’d thrown a bucket of cold water over them. There was a ripple of, “Aye, captain,” and Calla nodded sharply and turned on her heels.
If she couldn’t win their love, she would at least keep their respect.
Calla startled to come face to face with Gadrielle, and she was briefly stunned into silence by the storm-gray eyes landing evenly on hers.
As if her boatswain hadn’t spent the past fortnight avoiding Calla’s gaze just like the rest of her crew.
The look felt heavy and loaded with disapproval.
It was over in an instant, and then Gadrielle walked past her to address the crew.
“You heard the captain, but don’t go around counting the coin in your pouches just yet. We have a ship to dock first! Move!”
Before Calla could find Thorian, someone caught her sleeve, and she stilled, going cold all over. She didn’t have to look to know who it was. Her skin only prickled like this near one person. At her sharp look, Riley let go of her sleeve as if burned.
“Yes?” Calla asked coolly.
There was the flash of a wince, but Riley masked it in the split of a moment, and rubbed the back of her neck with as fake of a grin as she was. “I thought we should talk about our strategy.”
Calla blinked.
“About Sable. The compass led us here, right? There might be clues, or she might be hidden somewhere in there.” Riley chewed on her lip then, as if debating whether she should say whatever it was she was going to say anyway. “We both knew her better than the others. We should look together.”
Calla tilted her head at that. “You think you knew her because you fucked?” she asked.
This time, Riley didn’t hide her wince, and Calla realized her comment had been uncalled for, her language too coarse.
Where had that question even come from? She shouldn’t care who Sable, or Riley, fucked.
She parted her lips to amend, but the sting on Riley’s face was immediately replaced by a scowl, and Calla pressed her lips tighter together.
“And you think you know her when all you ever did was snap at each other?” Riley asked pointedly.
Calla just stared at Riley, flexing her fingers one by one against the hilt of her sword to push down on the sudden flash of anger.
She would not be baited. Riley met her gaze with a stubborn look, and Calla reminded herself none of this mattered.
Riley was no one to her, and allowing her to get under her skin was beneath her.
“I’m not leaving the ship,” she said. “And you’re not needed for investigative work. I will send Nyxen. He has a few connections in the Gullet. If Sable passed by, one of his contacts will know. You can accompany him if you’d like. Is that all?”
She expected the coldness to sting, counted on it, and Calla prepared to leave before she could see the flash of pain on Riley’s face, but Riley merely frowned at her instead. “You’re not coming? Why?”
Calla looked at her blankly. “Why? You know why.”
And there was the flash of pain. Because Riley knew as well as Calla did that she couldn’t step foot off the ship looking like this, and there was nothing either of them could do to change that.
So Calla left, and this time Riley didn’t stop her.