Chapter 2 #3
How long would it take? Minutes? Hours? She didn’t know.
She’d only witnessed the slow death that she was destined to succumb to in a few years, as her mother had.
It had taken ten years for her mother to die that way, never returning to the sea.
While she didn’t know how quick this way would be, it would certainly be quicker than that.
A brief flash of pity entered her mind for whomever was going to find her body if they managed to escape the harbor.
She looked over the dark water to where the Talvan navy ships rushed out to meet the attackers.
It was all so pointless. These greedy bastards continued to take lands and people that weren’t theirs, racing each other to see who could consume the most the fastest. Yet she couldn’t even get the one thing that truly belonged to her, the thing that would let her return to the sea. Her treasure.
The pirate ship banked away from the battle toward the shallower side of the harbor mouth that couldn’t accommodate the deeper-keeled ships. Well underway now. So close to the open sea.
Nia closed her eyes and waited for the end.
Was the pounding of her heart due to fear or her imminent demise?
She couldn’t tell. She’d always been so careful to stay away from the water.
The Swan Inn was just far enough away from shore to hold the constant, low grade nausea at bay.
Night after night she’d lay in bed, whether alone or with a companion, mentally cataloging her body for signs of the same slow fade her mother had endured for a decade before her ultimate death.
She’d always thought fading away would be better than the pain she’d experience if she returned to the water.
But maybe it was better this way, dying on the sea instead of on land.
Determination gripped her suddenly. She was definitely going to die, whether from the battle or the curse of her existence, so why shouldn’t she be reunited with the sea one last time?
The dark, dirty waters of the harbor were nothing compared to the blue waves of her home, but at least she would feel the sea on her skin again.
She tucked the box safely against the rail.
Her swishing skirts made not a sound beneath the barrage as she climbed up on the rail, rough rope scraping her palms. Dark choppy water gazed back up at her, and she imagined it weighing down her skirts and pulling her under, closing over her head, salt invading her nostrils.
She dangled one foot over the edge, her shoe dropping into the darkness and quickly sinking, as she would do soon enough. She sucked in one last breath of air and let go of the ropes.
Strong arms seized her waist and yanked her back. She and her savior tumbled to the deck in a heap of skirts and swearing. Nia struggled, trying to crawl back toward her inevitable death. She could choose this. She was going to die one way or another, so it might as well be her way.
The pirate woman tackled her to the deck again, straddling her hips and forcing her flailing arms up beside her head. Her brown eyes were wide, teeth bared in both anger and fear.
“Are you fucking crazy?” The pirate shouted over the cacophony of cannon fire. “You’ll drown!”
She would. She shouldn’t be able to drown, but in this form it was inevitable.
“Let me go!” Nia struggled again, but the pirate didn’t budge. The pins in Nia’s hair dug into the back of her scalp. They were almost out of the harbor now, slipping between a series of small islands into the night. Soon they would be in the open sea.
“You’ll die,” the pirate repeated, as if Nia was a panic-addled little girl.
“Let me,” Nia growled. The pirate blinked at her, fingers slackening slightly with shock.
Nia pressed her advantage, bucking her hips up and dislodging the pirate.
She only made it one step before the pirate caught her again.
She grunted as Nia elbowed her in the side but held on, dragging Nia toward a hatch in the deck.
“Open it!” the pirate ordered a crew member.
Then she dumped Nia unceremoniously into a dark hold full of crates and baskets.
Nia scrambled to her feet. The hold was shallow enough that her head poked out of the hatch.
The pirate woman leaned over the opening to look down at her, head framed by stars and the light of distant flames.
“No one dies on my ship without my permission,” the pirate said forcefully, before closing the hatch over Nia’s head, leaving her in darkness.
With a frustrated growl Nia pounded on the hatch but it didn’t budge. Her heart sank. Soon the symptoms would start, and she’d die alone here in the dark without ever being able to taste the sea again.
She slumped against a basket full of cloth, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her forehead against the silky fabric of her skirt.
All the fight fled her body. She’d avoided the sea for years, always wondering when it would finally claim her.
And now she had to spend the last moments of her short life in the dark.
The sounds of battle slowly faded behind them.
They must be properly at sea now, leaving everything behind. She waited.
And waited.
After what seemed like hours, with no heart palpitations or anything else, she raised her head.
She was at sea, and she wasn’t dead.
Her treasure was here.