Chapter 21
Chapter
Twenty-One
Nothing was working.
A week had passed, and they were running out of time. The academy would be arriving soon to finalize Haru’s position as Chancellor and once the library was attuned to its new master, it would be impossible for anyone else to enter.
Erinna’s hope faded every day the door remained shut, and her shame continued to grow with every day she couldn’t fuse the witchstone to the mast. She was just as useless as that stone. Erinna sighed and plopped onto the deck, defeated.
The inert rock lay at her feet atop a pile of wood shavings. She was growing tired of all these failures.
Erinna returned to the mundane task of picking splinters from her thumb and index fingers. There was a shuffle of paper behind her. Erinna glanced at Lila and smirked. “Didn’t know you could read?”
The ship’s master gunner and self-proclaimed weapons master was lounging on her usual perch, an old ale barrel turned stool. Lila rolled her eyes; a book that was clearly missing half its pages was nestled in her hand.
“Didn’t know you weren’t good at this.” The banter was half thought, but bordered on companionable. The two were making great progress toward tolerating each other’s presence.
Erinna turned back to review her work and frowned.
All she had been able to do so far was mar the mast with a sizable indent.
The stone fit and could balance in the groove so long as a large swell didn’t rock the vessel, which typically happened when a boat was sailing.
An hour ago, she swore the witchstone tried to grasp its place in the wood, but shuddered and fell back to the floor with a thud.
Kenneth was always successful. Erinna cursed herself for her oversight. Her father was a druid; he commanded the things of nature. In fact, she wouldn’t be surprised if all he ever had to do was ask the stone and wood nicely and all was well. She huffed in defeat.
With cracked, callused hands she shoved the stone and array of tools back in her bag. It was getting close to lunchtime, and she hoped to take her lookout shift early.
Heavy thundering footsteps sounded across the deck, heading in their direction.
“Lila!” The scream startled Erinna, but the master gunner remained content in her position, flipping to a page that was clearly not in sequence with the last one.
Brax thundered toward the two of them, face red and slick with sweat.
In the distance, a young crew member scurried off the deck with tears in his eyes, holding an arm close to his chest. From what she could tell, the poor lad was a newer recruit.
“Brax, how many times do I have to tell you to stop maiming the new recruits?” Lila flipped to another page.
Brax’s face grew even more red. “Maybe if they were halfway close to competent, they wouldn’t need to worry about it.”
Lila put the book down and gave him a look of mock sincerity. “How can I assist you?”
“Not you. All you’re good for is blowing shit up. I need to borrow that shipwright. Heard she did good work a few nights ago on Kane’s impulsive sail.”
Lila tapped her chin in thought. “Mmm, how much are you willing to offer?”
“Excuse me, but I am not a tool to barter,” huffed Erinna.
The two pirates turned their gaze on her, and for a moment, Erinna wanted to shrink away and pretend she never said anything. It was clear, by merely speaking, that she had offered her services willingly.
“This way.” Brax calmed at a concerning rate and gestured for Erinna to follow.
For the first time in ages, Erinna felt excited.
They approached the doors that led to the lower deck, the forbidden zone, and she lost her annoying shadow.
To watch a pirate’s carpenter at work would be an experience of a lifetime.
The small spark of joy was soured slightly as she thought of her father—the first person she’d want to tell—entombed in his own magic.
They didn’t go far, nor did she expect to. The largest gash to the ship sat midway on the vessel. What Erinna didn’t understand was why they wouldn’t approach the repair from the outside.
“We’ll reinforce it from the inside for now. It’s best to keep as many scars as possible for a ship like ours. Keeps people from thinking we’re soft.”
“Just tell me what you need me to do.” Erinna knew better than to express her opinion. But if she did, she would remind Brax that most assaults would come from the outside. Leaving compromised areas along the hull would only make repairs more complicated.
Small rays of sunlight poked through the round windows.
Most of the light came from mounted lanterns on the wall or swinging overhead.
A few witchlights dotted the room they entered, but it was clear the ship was worked on and refurbished in bits and pieces over time.
There was a sense of art to it, nonetheless.
A personality. The place was a living home on the ocean.
A line of damage spanned halfway up the wall.
Another good hit against those rocks and the room would have an opening straight into the ocean.
Some chests and a pile of burlap sacks remained in the room but everything else had been cleared for repairs.
Erinna figured this was a storage area, to keep belongings needed on a day-to-day basis for the members on board.
Near the wall lay thin strips of wood, a pail full of thick sap, and a mound of sawdust. It only took a moment for Erinna to size up operations.
Brax planned on reinforcing the entire area, like giving the boat a cast for a sprain.
It would alter the size of the room ever so slightly, but a good option for a fast and practical mend.
Erinna strode to the bucket, her foot scuffing a large brush caked in hardened sap.
She bent and took a quick sniff. Erhglur sap.
Her suspicions were correct. The glue-like substance was a godsend for mending on the go, but hardened frightfully fast. She scanned the room looking for some sort of heat source.
The sap would work best when warm, but to Erinna’s dismay there was nothing around for her to use.
Brax shuffled over to a small crate and collected a clean brush. The ones strewn about the ground were useless now.
“That won’t be necessary.” Erinna shooed the offering away. The brush would be the problem. Without hesitation she picked up the bucket and plunged her hand into the sap. The texture was thick and viscous like honey.
“Huh.” Brax tucked the brush into a worn utility belt that sat snug around his waist. He stroked his beard in a moment of thought and gave her a quick nod of approval.
“I saw your handiwork from the other day,” he started. “Pretty good.”
Erinna managed a small smile but beamed internally with pride. “I did my best, given the circumstances.”
Brax let out a full-bellied laugh. “Kane can be—”
“Bullheaded? Risky?” Erinna offered.
“All of the above.”
They both laughed. Erinna appreciated the sudden sense of camaraderie with the older pirate. It was nice to know she wasn’t the only one frustrated with Kane’s treatment of the ship.
She turned back to the task at hand, sizing up the damage and the amount of sap she had to work with. This was not a job for a beginner—that poor kid would be scarred, and for what?
“We need to get the paste on quick. I’ll be ready with the wood but won’t hesitate to snap your fingers if you’re too slow.”
“Careful, Brax, she needs to keep those fingers until my ship has witchstone.”
Erinna stifled a gasp. Kane had entered so quietly she didn’t hear the approach. It was a sobering moment. Reminded her of just how lethal he could be.
Brax nodded. “Noted.”
Kane spared her a quick glance before crossing to Brax. “When this is done, Afton and I need to see you by the doors.”
A red flush of frustration returned to Brax’s cheeks. From what Erinna could tell, this wasn’t the first time his services were requested at the Fort, and it seemed Brax was growing tired of failed attempts. She could relate.
“This is only a fraction of the work I have for the day. Do you know how many tears are left to stitch, holes left to patch—”
“Yarrow can deal with the rest while you’re gone,” said Kane, waving away Brax’s concern.
Erinna’s heart pounded at the prospect of such freedom. She could assess the ship without Lila’s watchful eye, perhaps find a way to secure one of the smaller surveying vessels for when she needed to return home.
Brax took a moment, assessing her. “You up for the task, Yarrow?”
“Y…yes,” she stammered, clutching the bucket tighter to her chest like a lucky totem.
“Good.” Kane turned to leave.
“Wait—” Erinna juggled the bucket in emphasis. “Can you heat this up?” The sap was much easier to work with when warm, and Kane’s Talent would do the trick.
Erinna could see the “no” form on his lips. “It will make this go much faster,” she promised.
Decision made, Kane sauntered a few steps over to her and held out his hands. Erinna plopped the bucket into his arms, one arm still submerged in glue, the other clutching the rim.
“I can burn you,” he cautioned, eyeing her sap-covered hand.
“It’s fine. I’ll tell you when to stop.”
Kane’s hands grew red like embers. A few sparks like the cracking of firewood danced across the bucket, but nothing caught aflame. Erinna stared at the sap, swirling it slowly with her hand, a few strands of hair fell loose from her braid. It wouldn’t take long, just a few more moments.
In her focus, she failed to appreciate the little distance between her and the captain of the Hellish Rebuke. The tips of their boots nearly touched. Kane moved his right hand slightly to ensure he didn’t entrap Erinna’s finger in fire.
“Yarrow, this thing is getting too hot.”
“Just a second.” She was used to this. She’d done it on countless ships for her father, and though the heat started to sting her hand, it was bearable.
“Perfect,” she breathed.
Kane released the pail like it had scorched him—but not before their eyes caught and held.