9. Chapter Nine #2
“Eryse.” I turn my head over my shoulder to look at Sable, my name sounding foreign in his mouth. Like an ancient warning I am yet to heed. He gives me a wry look that makes me leave my spot at the railing and walk toward him on unsteady feet.
“It follows the edges of the maelstrom. If you are right about this, you’re sleeping in a cabin tonight.
” A smile tugs at his lips, but I don’t return the favor.
Not when he only found value in my input when the Glim appeared to back it up.
Another pair of eyes lands on me. Grim raises one brow and tilts his head slightly, as if to tell me: See, he has his good moments.
“I am right,” I say while turning toward the open sea ahead of us, curling my hands into the fabric of my dress.
We have passed two of the maelstroms already by following the edges of it.
My plan is working. I am going to have the best sleep of my life tonight.
Before I let myself indulge in the thought of a proper bed, the ship must turn again to follow the current of the next whirl.
Sable barks commands, and moments later, the ship lifts and drops harshly, crushes through the waves, and gets back on track.
The moment the current is in our favor again, we gain speed.
So much speed that the wind picks up and makes my hair whip across my face.
I don’t mind the sting of it on my skin.
It is refreshing to feel something so familiar after being locked away in this ship.
The fourth maelstrom ahead of us looms closer and closer. We have to leave this whirl now and aim for the next one, or the sea will swallow us whole. I’m about to shout, but Sable already maneuvers the ship to cut across the current.
“That’s it, lads!” he roars with no fear in his voice, “full bore and into the abyss!”
The Noctis groans and tilts, first abruptly to the left, then to the right. I clamp both hands around one of the nearest masts, so I don’t slide across the deck again.
Then the world goes numb. Water–so much water– crashes down on me. I hold on to the mast for dear life. I cannot afford to slip even slightly. The rushing in my ears is so loud I can’t hear anything else. No shouts. No heartbeat. Nothing.
It goes as quickly as it came. A wave crashed over me.
When my surroundings come back into focus, the ship is steady beneath my feet. We must’ve already cleared the maelstrom. I double over, coughing up pure water, clamping my hands over my ribcage. There it is again, the burning in my lungs that reminds me of how broken I am.
Wait.
My muscles tense as realization washes over me.
Besides the discomfort in my lungs. I don’t feel any pain.
Anywhere. Not from the wound, not from my foot.
The sea healed me, and I have no idea what memory it took in return.
I swallow down the knot forming in my throat, along with the tears that sting in my eyes more than any salted water could.
I must not dwell on it. There is no use in mourning what I do not know I’ve lost.
I piece myself back together, like I always do.
My knees shake beneath me, but I get back up and face the captain.
Storm-gray eyes meet mine, and that glint of sorrow in them is there again.
Swirled with the murkiness of pity too this time.
I will not stand for it. Not after he was so quick to dismiss my efforts to help them make safe passage back in the cabin.
“I will go check on the boy you let wander the deck,” I say, my voice a knife’s edge.
If looks could kill, he’d certainly be a dead man now.
“Someone needs to check if he remembers anything at all, considering he was soaked to the bone.” Lark is too young, too innocent to be out here in such a storm.
If he were wounded, it’s too late anyway, as it is too late for me.
But maybe I can give him a little comfort.
The seas know he’ll be in desperate need of it.
“Lark made the decision on his own.” He imparts through gritted teeth.
And that is all he seems willing to say.
He waves a hand as if to dismiss me. Pirates and their ridiculous traditions.
Lark is not old enough to understand the consequences of his actions.
Surely they can go against his decisions when they are life-threatening.
Surely no one wants that boy's death on their hands.
Cursing, I make my way back to the quarters. My once-beautiful gown is now soaking wet and freezing as the wind batters into me, causing my whole body to shiver. Relieved to finally escape the elements, I open the door to the quarters and close it behind me.
“Lark?” I carefully make my way down the narrow corridor, leaving a wet trail behind me. The boards creak under my bare feet, each sound feeling too loud in the quiet after the storm. He’s in none of the smaller cabins, nor is he in Harrow’s room. There’s only one hiding spot left.
I find him sitting underneath the wooden table in the captain’s quarters. He’s pressed as far back as he can go, knees drawn up tight to his chest. His arms are wrapped around his shaking body, fingers clutching at the fabric of his sleeves as if he’s afraid to let go.
For a moment, I don’t speak. I lower myself slowly, careful not to scrape the floor or startle him. His breathing comes fast and uneven, shallow gasps that hitch in his throat when he notices me move.
“It’s me, Eryse.” Not wanting to scare the boy, I carefully crouch down next to him, then crawl underneath the table to sit with him. I make sure to keep a small distance between us, close enough to be there, far enough away so that he does not feel crowded.
His gaze flicks to my hands, then back to my face. My chest tightens at the sight of him.
“I thought it would be only fair to give you my name, as you have given me yours.” I begin, keeping my voice low and steady, so as not to startle him. He doesn’t stop shaking despite my attempts at comfort.
“I am not a sea witch, you know.” I look ahead of me, watching him from the corner of my eye. He perks up a little. “But I think witches are pretty cool. The captain’s sister is a sea witch, did you know that?”
Lark furrows his brows and tilts his head, as if turning the thought over in his mind. After a second, he gives me a quick nod, some of the tension in his shoulders easing.
“I like her. She’s very nice, unlike…”
“Unlike her brother?” I ask, a smile tugging at my lips, careful not to push it too far.
He blushes and quickly shakes his head. Of course, he would never insult his captain. Pirate loyalty and all that. “No, that’s not what I wanted to say. She’s just so soft, while he’s …not. Not anymore.”
I nod my head in understanding and shift my weight until I’m sitting more comfortably on the floor. The table leg presses awkwardly into my back, and I cannot sit fully upright, but I don’t mind.
“Well, he’s a pirate.” I counter with a shrug, teasing him in the hopes of distracting him from what just happened.
“Hey! I’m a pirate too, you know.” He straightens his back at once and points a finger at me. “Pirates are good. We’re one big family.” He shakes his head, as though it’s pointless even saying it to me. “You wouldn’t understand. You’re a girl.”
A laugh bubbles from my throat before I can stop it.
“And you think girls can’t be pirates?”
“I have never seen a lass on one of our ships.”
With that, he crawls from his hiding spot and picks up a small cutlass he must’ve dropped earlier.
He hesitates for just a heartbeat, then shoves it into the mount at his waist. I lift the hem of my dress and follow him out.
His chest puffs with pride as he gets to his feet, standing taller than before.
A soft swelling of relief appears in my chest at the sight of his reappearing confidence.
He’s young, but it seems like he’s already learned the values that guide him, the rules that keep him standing even when fear tries to drag him down. I can only admire that in him.
“I was chosen for this when I was eight. The girls back home were very impressed.”
Home? I don’t know why, but I've never paid much thought to the fact that pirates would actually have somewhere they consider home. My father certainly didn’t tell me about this.
I thought they considered the sea their home and their ship.
My heart begins to ache at the thought of this boy having a mother and leaving her behind at such a young age. The reverse of my own childhood.
“I am sure they were.” I smile softly at him, then gently check his arms and shoulders for wounds by running my fingers over the skin there, my touch light and careful. “Do we have to see Harrow? Or are you okay?”
“I am okay. The Sea made sure I am.” He says, smiling as though it's nothing to be afraid of or worried about.
So he was wounded. The Sea of Renewal has cured him. With a smaller bank of memories, he is more at risk of losing something valuable. I hope the sea showed mercy and took an unimportant one.
His head swings to the side as the door to the cabin opens. The planks squeak as Nightglass enters the cabin and lets out a breath he’s clearly been holding for a while.
“There you are, kid. Come here.”
Lark doesn’t hesitate. He runs straight into his open arms, and Nightglass hugs him tight, one hand cradling the back of his head as if to make sure he’s safe. He seems to inspect the boy for wounds just as I did mere moments ago.
“I’m okay, Dad. You can stop,” he says, eyeing me through the side of his vision, his head firmly pressed to Nightglass’s chest. “You’re embarrassing me.”
Hold on a second. Do my ears deceive me? Dad?
Father and son. By the seas, of course they are.
Now that I know it, I can see the similarities in their features.
The same ash-blond hair, the same freckles peppering their cheeks.
At the sight of them, something stings my heart, like a small needle tearing open a wound I try to keep closed.
I, too, had a father who worried about me. Once upon a time.
“Of course, how could I be so thoughtless?” He lets go of him but scans his body one more time with a smile on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes. A mask placed meticulously over his worry. He has to be concerned about which memory his son has lost.
Nightglass pats Lark on his shoulder. “You’re needed out on deck. The captain’s counting hands.”
Lark nods and quickly hurries away, boots thudding down the corridor with renewed confidence, leaving me alone with his father, who eyes me up, scrutinizing every inch of me.
“I appreciate you checking on him, lass. But I don’t want you near him.” He sees my brows as they lift in confusion. “Grim told me what you are.”
Swallowing, I slowly shake my head.
“Sirens never hurt kids. We’re not interested in the innocent. Besides, you are pirates. I think it is I who should be more afraid. But I understand your concern, and I will respect your wish.”
He nods slowly, jaw tightening as if he’s weighing every word. He seems to let it slip, his worry for his son overpowering any anger my words have sparked.
“You don’t know what he lost? Did he seem… confused to you?”
“No.” I offer him a reassuring smile. “He remembers his home, his family, and that he’s a true pirate at heart.”
A smile tugs at his lips. “Good. That must be enough.”
Nightglass turns toward the door again but stops and looks back at me.
“I’ll lock you in here until the crew has settled and the captain is ready to see you. Go change and rest. I’m sure he has some clothes in there.” He nods toward a chest at the end of the bed.
Metal clicks. When I turn back around, the door is already closed.
I don’t even bother trying it. I know it’s locked.