8. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
I furrow my brows, glancing down the hallway again, making sure no one is watching me.
The way the dress is folded makes it seem like it was placed for me to take.
With shaking hands, I reach for it and take it.
A smile tugs at my lips as I close the door and hold the gown against my body, staring down at it in awe.
The deep emerald leaves little room for doubt.
The ghost told me it would suit me. It cannot be a coincidence, no, it must be from him.
I do not care how foolish I may look, that something as simple as a pretty gown can make me smile despite the fact that I am being held captive.
It feels like one small defiance against my situation, that I can choose to find a small spark of happiness in the mysterious offering of a dress.
That I will not crack no matter how much pressure is placed upon me.
I relish the feeling of the fabric as it glides over my body, pulling it up and tugging the strings of the corset as tight as I can on my own.
I run a hand over the material, smooth and shining, and I cannot help but liken it to my mother’s scales.
The way it seems to shift from darkness to a rich emerald when I move, how it echoes the way her onyx scales would turn that same deep shade of green when the sun hits it right.
The kind of green that hides in shadows and glows only when you’re close enough to see it.
The bodice clings perfectly to my frame, scattered with dark stones, each one glinting in the light like stars at midnight.
The soft off-shoulder sleeves cascade down my arms, showing skin without revealing too much.
The skirt flows in long, smooth lines of satin, the fabric pooling at the ground in a way that feels effortless, as if it were meant to move freely with the wind.
The door squeaks again as Harrow enters.
“Well, I dare say you look much better, lass.” A warm smile spreads across his face, and it is only now that I notice a couple of golden teeth.
I nod and try to return the smile. “I do feel better. It seems you have a very generous ghost lurking amongst you.”
The old man’s smile fades as soon as he hears the word ghost, and he quickly shakes his head.
“Better not to talk to any of them, Eryse. That only keeps them from where they should be,” he says in a lowered, more serious voice.
I shoot him a quizzical look and cross my arms behind my back.
“And where should they be?”
“At peace. Talking to them and recognizing them as actual beings makes them restless.”
I inhale in preparation for my next question, but before I can ask it, someone standing in the doorframe clears his throat. I glance behind Harrow to find Grim standing there, with his arms crossed over his wide chest.
“Enough ghost stories, old man,” he commands, and I sigh in disappointment.
Of course, he would show up when things just got interesting.
I roll my eyes at him, my first hint of attitude toward these men.
The only reaction I get from him is a slightly raised brow and a clenched jaw.
“Aye, right you are, Grim. Don’t want to scare you, lass,” Harrow says as he walks past me into the room.
He is not too steady on his feet, I realize, his steps a little uneven as he passes.
Grim holds my cuffs in his hands, clearly intending to put them back on, but I don’t want to leave before thanking Harrow again, so I turn toward him once more.
“Thank you for stitching me up.”
He laughs at that, a deep, honest laugh that deepens the lines in his face. “That’s what I’m here for, Eryse.”
I lay my wrists in the openings of the cuffs, not wanting to anger him, and Grim locks them instantly.
I catch him quickly glancing down at my gown with a deep frown, but he doesn’t comment on it.
He gives the cuffs a quick tug before leading me down the hallway.
Doors line both sides, until the corridor narrows toward a single door at the end– the captain’s quarters.
Just before we reach it, a nook cuts into the wall on the right, sealed off with iron bars.
Lanterns are lit inside it, far too many for the narrow space.
Grim stops pulling me as soon as we are in front of it.
There are multiple hissed voices coming from inside the cabin of the captain, one of them Sable’s, his tone as serious and commanding as ever.
The other voices I don’t recognize, but many insults are being thrown about. They seem to be arguing.
With my brows furrowed, I glance back at the cell.
I relax my tired body in relief as I spot the cot in the corner of the cell.
My heart stumbles as I take in the iron bars, bolted into the ship to hold the captive in there.
To hold me there. At this moment, I crave the sea.
The feeling of being underwater, the coarseness of it on my skin, the salt of it on my tongue.
The freedom of a wide, open sea. But the pain and exhaustion prevail over that want, for the need of rest. If it granted me the chance to sleep, I would gladly walk into that cell right now.
The thought makes me question why I haven’t been thrown in there already.
Confusion twisting on my face, I glance over my shoulder to look at the brooding pirate standing behind me.
He studies me for a few seconds, contemplation glistening in his eyes.
Grim steps around me, blocking my view of the cell. “Do you know something about this intermaria? About how to make it safely through?”
“Why? Don’t tell me you suddenly need my help.” I raise my brow at him and try to keep my mocking tone low. Not too low, however. Grim has been kind to me, unlike his captain, but I must not forget that I am still his captive. “You don't know how to make it through, do you?”
He crosses his arms over his chest and widens his stance in defense. “We have sailed through other intermarias before. But not this one. Every sailor knows the route can be deadly.”
While I have never swum in the intermaria that separates the Sea of Crowns and the Sea of Renewal myself, I do know how to make it through. While humans learn how to walk, how to avoid falling by holding on to something for support, sirens learn how to swim using the current.
A smile tugs at my lips. I have just been given something I can bargain with.
“I do know how to make it through. And I will help you. But….” I start carefully, putting my head back to look at him properly.
Grim raises a brow at me in a silent challenge, seemingly teasing me for having the audacity to open negotiations. The way he shakes his head tells me what’s coming.
“… I want better treatment. A pillow, a blanket, food, water—”
“Don’t push your luck, lass,” he says through gritted teeth, but I continue nonetheless.
“I want to be allowed to use the privy in privacy, no chains in my cell, and for that matter, I shouldn't even be kept in a cell at—”
“Careful,” he says in a warning tone and takes one step forward, crowding me against the iron bars of the cell.
I swallow hard, a knot starting to form in my stomach. I might be pushing my luck here, but if I’m lucky, my plan will work out.
“…and I get your vote in the tribunal.”
His mouth opens once, then closes again. Silence stretches between us as he turns my last request over in his mind, the muscles in his face taut, his eyelid twitching. “Who told you about the tribunal?”
“The Captain,” I say, feigning indifference. I let my back rest against the iron bars, trying to act nonchalant. If he looked at me closely, he’d see the quickening of my breath and the unsteadiness of my legs.
Grim finally looks away and sighs before finding my eyes again. “You cannot buy my vote. The tribunal is part of the code, and we live by the code. But if you prove useful in getting us through the intermaria, I will consider giving you my vote as thanks.”
I exhale sharply before straightening my posture, making the metal of the cuffs clink. I narrow my gaze on him. “You know that’s not enough for me.”
“It must be enough,” he snarls and jabs a finger at my chest. “You are not in a position to demand anything from me. If you don’t help us, you will only drown as we will, considering your very human legs. Do not test the limits of my generosity, siren.”
My breathing grows heavy at the threat, the knot in my stomach binding further into a mess that will take forever to untwist. I, of course, knew that he wasn’t a friend, but I hadn’t thought he was fully an enemy either.
By the way he looks at me now, I realize how foolish I have been to expect anything more from a pirate, let alone that I could convince him to speak in my favor.
“Fine. Then consider voting for me, Grim. But I demand better treatment. I am a woman. I will not sacrifice my dignity and pee in a bucket.” My chin is held high, clearly stating my insistence. I will not soon back down. He’ll see.
He lowers his finger and steps away, giving me more space. He lets out an elongated breath, followed by a slow nod. “I’ll see what I can do. After we pass the intermaria.”
“Fine.” I glare at him. If I could cross my arms, I would. Deep down, I know the solidity of our bargain. I can get us through the intermaria, and he will be forced to give me what I am owed.
Another nod from him. “Fine. We have a deal.”