Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Fin’s whoops and cries echo through the ship as he tears up and down the steps, his excitement evident after we told him he was going to see Roley today.
It never became my official ship duty to occupy him, because everything happened shortly after Taril took over scrubbing the deck, but I know Weston is relieved that Fin can finally leave the ship and work off some energy.
Being confined for so long with so little to do is hard on someone as young as he is, and if that is a silver lining we can find in this situation, I’ll take it.
Despite the truce with the Voyagers yesterday, no one in the crew has ventured beyond the safety of the ship.
It’s as if everyone is still unsure if we can take Mara at her word, and no one wants to be the first to try.
While I trusted her at one point, especially after saving my life, something in the back of my mind still tells me to be wary.
The look in her eyes as she was trying to run me through with her sword is not an easy one to forget.
Sig sits on the railing of the quarterdeck, her feet dangling over the wooden boards beneath her, while Jorn balances along the beam at her side.
Weston stands before her, arms crossed over his chest, with his stern look firmly in place.
He glances over his shoulder as I approach, and the tension in his shoulders visibly relaxes slightly once I step beside him.
“What’s on your mind, Cap?” Jorn says as he spins on one boot to walk in the other direction. “Not doing enough to keep your thoughts occupied?”
Jorn’s mischievous grin is the perfect rival for Weston’s scowl and glare, but it doesn’t faze Jorn at all. He just shoots me a wink when Weston growls back.
“I’m trying to figure out how that is any of your concern, Jorn.”
He snickers, and my tongue finds my cheek as I try to hide my smile. “Well, we are the ones who have to deal with you. It’s in our best interest to make sure you’re satisfied.”
Sig rolls her eyes and smacks Jorn on the leg, instigating one of Jorn’s full-belly laughs. “Ignore him, Cap. What’s wrong?”
Weston shifts on his feet, still glaring at Jorn when he answers. “The Voyagers,” he grunts, and a look of confusion crosses Sig’s face.
“I thought after yesterday we would not have a problem. Not a significant one, at least,” she says.
“Cap doesn’t trust anyone, Sig,” Jorn says as he hops down onto the deck with a thud. “I’m not surprised this isn’t any different. What specifically, though? Enlighten us, Cap.”
“We’ve kept the location of the healing waters secret for this long, but with Dane gone, I wonder if the rest of them can be trusted,” Weston says.
“You think we should tell them?” Sig asks.
Weston lets out a deep sigh and rubs a hand over his face. “I don’t know. If we were on the other side, we would want to know. But there are too many unknowns with Dane. Can we trust he’s actually gone? He’s still the Guardian. What if there is a way he can travel without the dust?”
“I don’t think he can. On my first day here, he used it to leave the island,” I say. “Also, when he was in Blackwood, it didn’t seem like he was just coming and going. I think he was staying without using the dust.”
Weston’s head snaps toward me. “He was there?”
I had told no one that Dane and I had met prior to calling the Guardian.
Mara had to know, because when we met on my first day searching, she mentioned he had disappeared for weeks, then came back with me.
At the time, I thought nothing of it. I didn’t know who he was, or the role he played in finding anyone seeking the healing waters.
Now I know why. He sought me out.
“For a few weeks, yeah. I had met him before I called him.”
Weston’s gaze hardens, and the muscles in his jaw clench as I’m sure he’s figuring out what I already know: that I was Dane’s target from the beginning.
Sig chimes in. “So we know he has to use it, but we don’t know if it is actually all gone. But we can’t confirm whether or not he was using the dust?” Sig asks, turning her attention to me.
“You think he still has dust?” I ask.
“He might. He might not,” Weston says. “But can we trust that if he returns, Mara or anyone else won’t run back to him? Just because Mara might be telling the truth that she believes, doesn’t mean Dane isn’t still pulling strings.”
If Dane still has dust and only left the pouch here to deceive us and make us think he could never come back, that would completely change who or what I would trust, and it seems Weston feels the same.
“So we don’t tell them,” Sig says, “because we do know that we can’t trust them. The island never showed them where the waters are, and that has been our best way of knowing someone could be trusted. It hasn’t been wrong yet.”
Weston nods. “Then we keep it to ourselves until the island tells us.”
“We’ll trust the island, just like it tells us to,” I say.
“And if we’re wrong,” Weston mutters, “we handle it then.”
“I’ll make sure the rest of the crew knows it’s still to be kept between us until they hear from you directly,” Sig says.
“Good.” Weston turns to me, wrapping his arm around my back and settling his hand on my hip. “Ready to bring Fin?”
“Oh yeah, he can’t wait. Do we know where we’re meeting—”
“EXCUSE ME?”
The call cuts me off and echoes over the deck, leaving the four of us to exchange confused glances.
It can’t be.
I sprint across the deck, hitting the rail on the other side hard with my palms, only to be crowded by Weston, Sig, and Jorn, who peer over my head toward the voice.
Mara stomps across the jagged reef, eyes wide as she takes in the sight before her.
“When the fuck did this ship get here?” she yells. More members of the crew crowd along the railing of the main deck and at the opening of the gangway, leaning and peering out over the water. Murmurs rise as they look amongst themselves, and I glance up at Weston to find his calculating stare.
“Is anyone going to answer me?” Mara throws her hands in the air, waving them wildly. “I can see you all just standing there!”
“I think the island heard us,” Jorn murmurs beside me, and Sig huffs a laugh.
“The island must trust her,” I say, looking back up at Weston. “Maybe we can then, too. And maybe now we can just live.”
“I think you might be right,” he mumbles, and I feel him thread his fingers through mine.
“Hello? Anyone?” Mara calls before she turns toward us on the quarterdeck. “You! The one who punched me in the face. Answer me! Is this seriously where you have been this entire time?”
Sig laughs and cups her hands around her mouth. “The whole time!”
Her shoulders sag as a wave of shock washes over her face while she takes in the ship and the entire crew watching her, but Jorn’s boisterous laugh pulls my attention to him.
“I forgot you punched her, babe! How come you didn’t tell me before?” He jumps backward out of reach, and hops from foot to foot, throwing punches at the air. “To be honest, I don’t think I would want to be on the other end of one of your right hooks.”
A laugh erupts from my throat, and I rub my cheek at the memory. “Trust me, Jorn, you really don’t. They hurt like a bitch.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I cringe and see Weston’s head snap down to mine from the corner of my eye.
“What was that?” he says, now glancing between me and Sig.
“Lennox,” Sig whines, and drops her head back, her arms falling limply at her sides.
No one but Sig knew about the punch, well, other than the Voyagers who saw the bruise, but I had no intention of telling Weston.
Sig already had enough to deal with the morning after I left, and I know how he feels about anyone laying their hands on me.
“Fuck,” I curse under my breath and turn toward Weston. Outrage burns in his eyes, and I slam my palms into his chest as I hold his stare. “It was nothing. You weren’t supposed to find out. Leave her alone.”
“Signee,” he grumbles, slowly turning to face her. “Explain. Now.”
“Shit. Cap, don’t hate me,” Sig starts, but I cut her off, pressing my hands harder into his chest.
“Weston, stop,” I say, and he looks down at me, raising one eyebrow. I know he won’t be satisfied until we tell him, now that I accidentally divulged the secret. I roll my eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.
“The night I snuck back to camp, Sig sucker-punched me. We were trying to make everything look believable. You aren’t allowed to be upset with her because it worked. They all believed it even more because I was hurt.”
His chest rumbles under my palms, and my face heats as his eyes trail over my skin, caressing the exact spot on my cheek where Sig hit me.
“Oh shit, it was a sucker punch?” Jorn says with a laugh. “Even worse, babe. Poor little Lennox!”
“Sorry,” Sig says with a wince, her shoulders rising to her ears as she throws her hands up in surrender at Weston. “I had a good reason. It was all to keep her safe, I promise.”
The muscle in his jaw ticks, and he finally drags his eyes away from my face.
“I put salve on it. It’s like it didn’t happen. Just the memory,” I say with a small laugh and a hopeful glance over at Sig.
“And her hard head really hurt my hand.”
I snort, looking back at Weston, whose face is now stoic, completely void of the anger that was there moments ago.
“It’s fine,” he says, and Sig’s shoulders sag in relief. “I understand why you didn’t tell me. But Signee?” He wraps a possessive arm around my waist, tugging my body against him and gripping my hip tightly. “Keep your hands off my woman.”
She starts to speak, but before she can even respond, he reaches out and shoves her shoulder. A high-pitched squeal escapes her as she stumbles backward, the rail hitting her waist as she topples over the side of the ship.
“Weston!” I scream, shoving away from him and rushing to the rail to lean over and peer down into the water. Sig’s splash resonates from below, but moments later, she surfaces, a huge grin splitting her face, followed by a peal of laughter.
My jaw falls open, and I look back at him, only to catch him smirking with a playful glint in his eye.
Jorn crows from behind me, and before I know it, he’s hopping onto the rail and jumping off the side, doing a full flip before hitting the water beside Sig.
I let out a disbelieving laugh before turning back to Weston. A small smile turns up his lips, and he lifts a shoulder in a shrug.
“What does it matter anymore? The island showed her the ship, so we have no reason to hide during the day.” He steps beside me, leaning over the rail and beaming down at Sig and Jorn, who are floating in the water, splashing each other and giggling.
A crowd of expectant faces looks up at us from the main deck, well, more specifically at Weston. His arms are crossed over his chest when I turn back to him, waiting to see what he will do with everyone’s unspoken questions.
Is it safe? Can we leave?
“Go on,” he calls out, jerking his head toward the reef.
Rumbling vibrates the boards beneath our feet as the gangway extends out, thudding into the land on the other side. An eruption of emotional cries and cheers rises from the crew on the main deck, and my chest swells with everyone’s excitement.
I can’t imagine what everyone who has been isolated to this ship for so many years is feeling now that they’re finally set free, now that the island has told them it is safe.
As one of the newest Castaways, I’ll never know the depth of their emotions, but I know even I am itching to come and go whenever I want.
Feet pound as the crew tears down the gangway, Stassia leading the pack and sprinting faster than I’ve ever seen her move.
Mara stares after everyone, mouth agape as they barrel across the reef toward the shore.
Stassia throws herself onto the beach, rolling around in the sand while others splash into the cove or run around in the sunlight, arms raised above their heads, laughing carelessly.
I spot Fin as he runs across the beach to find Roley standing near the bottom of the stone steps, watching everything unfold before him. Arms out wide, Fin runs up to him and wraps him in an embrace, then the two of them take off winding through bodies and splashing in the surf.
My cheeks hurt from smiling as I watch the pure joy emanating from these people I’ve grown to care so much about. While everything about our situation is tinged with sadness and loss, an entirely different world has been opened to everyone here, one that is safe and happy, and will be for eternity.
I look up to Weston, expecting to see him watching his crew, but he isn’t.
He’s watching me, a soft smile playing on his lips.
Stepping forward, I close the gap between us and raise my arms. His hands find my waist as he takes the cue, and leans forward, letting me wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer.
“Come on, Captain,” I say, unable to stop grinning as I take in the relief and happiness in his eyes. “Take me to shore.”