11. Joy
JOY
“Our journey has begun, and we should be with you in a matter of weeks. You should have never doubted me.”
- DAHLIA’S LETTERS FROM THE BOAT.
Sailing within the Southern continent was like drifting through a small globe of paradise. The crystal waters remained mostly calm, as if too lazy to create storms or threats. We floated softly, the warm waters lapping against the boat gently. I stood at the railing watching the sun rise. I hadn’t slept in what felt days, I couldn’t relax. There was a stranger on my boat. I stared at Dahlia as she slept, paced, and played cards around me. Stifling a cringe I looked up at the waking blue sky.
It was possible to sail across the world on a ship of this size with only one crew member, but I needed a map and that map happened to be Dahlia.
She knew I didn’t want her there. She was a reminder of what I had lost and quite honestly, she was unwelcome.
But she knew how to sail, and fast. My mind wondered to Jameson again. Was he even still alive? Had he been murdered by the sick bastards that kidnapped him? My blood began to boil again, all my anger focused on the figure bobbing towards me.
“Awake again?” Dahlia’s voice was filled with concern. “You look terrible.” I rolled my eyes. Doubt flushed through me.
I should not have trusted her.
Not with something this precious.
But I had no choice. She had made that clear.
“You think I can sleep?” My voice was clipped and harsh. “My best friend is probably encaged in goddess knows what, with goddess knows who.” My voice remained an angry whisper. “So forgive me, Dahlia, if my appearance is not up to your standards.”
I walked away from her, my legs aching. I knew my emotions were heightened because I had not slept, I knew that my patience was wearing thin, I knew that I needed to sleep and be strong for Jameson.
But every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face from across Laylani’s bar. The confusion and fear. I knew it was fear for me, fear for my life. I sunk to my knees and curled into a ball once inside my small bed chambers. The ship no longer felt like home, it felt like a foreign land that I no longer recognized. Looking over at the bed I couldn’t help the thoughts of Lolita. Sleeping softly, her red hair covering her face and bare shoulders like another bed sheet. The sunny mornings when we would just hold each other for hours, our naked bodies pressed against each other, unbothered about time passing around us, basking in the normalcy of being in love.
Cold seeped into my body. She wasn’t here anymore, and I would forever be broken without her. Loneliness followed me with every step to the bed. Time bent around me, I did not know how long I laid still, staring at the ceiling, before sleep dragged me away.
Lolita stood within the flames; her body untouched by the heat. Another girl stood beside her; she was almost glowing. Her brown hair splayed around her head like a halo, like she was underwater. Another figure walked towards them, his hand reaching for Lolita. It wasn’t a stranger, it was Jameson. Their hands almost touched… they were almost together.
I opened my eyes softly, the remnants of my dream clinging to my skin like an unwanted embrace. I had been plagued with the same visions for the last four nights. My head was no longer my own, I found myself standing at the helm of the ship, staring at the horizon, attempting to understand the reoccurring dream.
Was it Lolita? Or was Jameson trying to reach me? Who was the other woman? She was clearly not from the southern continent, her pale skin stood in contrast to Lolita dark black skin. The stranger’s pale skin mirrored Jameson’s. Where they from the same region? It was clear that she too was a descendant of the Northern Continent, unlike Lolita and I who hailed from the Southern Continent.
I wanted to believe that the dream was magical. That it was a message from Kai’d that we were heading in the right direction, but magic had not been seen in decades. I had never even seen it but a part of me always hoped it was real. That part of me became smaller and smaller as I got older and older. It was hard to believe that something existed if you had never laid eyes on it.
But a slither of the childlike belief still lived on inside me, it had to.
Without hope I had nothing.
I watched the sky awaken and bloom into its climactic crescendo. I have seen nothing but sky and sea for almost a week. Every day I worried that I would be too late to save Jameson, every day I imagined returning home without him.
Heavy footsteps sounded hastily behind me, Dahlia’s eyes were wild and bloodshot as she reached for my arm. I couldn’t help tugging my arm away, my eyes searching her quickly.
“Joy! What are you doing?” Dahlia’s voice was a high screech. I spun around search for imminent danger, my eyebrows drawn together.
“Did you not hear my shouts?” Her body trembled and shook. “We need to get inside. NOW.” She grabbed for my arm again, hauling me toward the inner cabin.
But it was too late.
My body was thrown into the air, flying across the deck until my back hit an empty barrel. Pain shot along my back, all the way into my spine.
Stars exploded in my vision. I cracked an eye open, my sight blurry.
Dahlia lay a few feet away from me, unmoving.
A laugh sounded from across the ship’s deck. At the sound my head flew up, dizziness ripping through me.
Our ship had been hit… by another ship. A part of our ship was completely shattered. I analyzed it quickly… enough damage to stop our journey or even sink us.
The clouds seemed to darken, and the sky stilled. Blood trickled down my cheek, stinging like a slap. My body remained on the floor, attempting to ready itself for any possible situation.
Wood snapped and splintered on the side of the boat. The bow of the foreign ship dug into ours, I felt the movement then. We were being pushed, the sails of the opposite ship were flying high, the wind propelling them into us.
Heavy boots stomped against the floor of the ship; slow steps walked toward me. I kept my breathing even, if I was lucky, he would believe me unconscious.
How I loved the element of surprise.
If I moved too quickly, they would kill me but if I moved too slowly… they would kill me.
“What do we have here?” A whisper crawled up my spine, making me cringe. A small sword slowly dragged across my face, drawing a thin line of blood.
I slowly moved my foot, checking the hidden dagger remained there.
A hand touched my shoulder, pushing down the strap of my dress.
“Do you like that?” The disgusting whisper spoke again, and a jeer sounded from the adjacent ship. In one swift movement I reach for my weapon, twirled away from his touch, and plunged the dagger into his lower stomach, dragging it up to his sternum as I stood.
“Did you like that?” I whispered.
A bubble of blood choked from his mouth as he tried to cry out for help. His body slumped to the floor heavily, and I wiped the dagger against my linen dress, a smear of red marking me as a murderer.
I had been called worse.
“Come on, sweet girl,” a voice drawled from the other ship. Another man sat on the bow of his ship, his feet dangling down. He was different from the other men, he was tall and lean. In other circumstances you might have called him handsome.
“Give us the girl and you’ll never see us again.” A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. “Promise,” he said, jumping down onto the deck of my ship with a heavy thwack. His eyes dragged over the bleeding dead body at my feet and he grinned.
“This is definitely not Florence’s work.” He bent to inspect the body, using his two index fingers to pull the sagging face into a smile. “She did not teach you?” he asked although it was more of a statement. “But she’s here.” He twirled around, his unhinged mind whirling. “Come out come out wherever you are,” he sung into the horizon.
The stranger danced toward me, grabbing my hand, twirling me and dipping me low. I struggled against his grip, ripping my hand away.
“Flooooorrrreeeenccce,” he sung again. “Come out or I’ll gut her… you know I will.” I was not sure who he thought was on this ship. I looked over to Dahlia, but she was gone.
She had left me alone with this stranger.
Why was I surprised?
I did not know these waters that well, perhaps he was looking for a different ship? Does someone owe him a debt? Perhaps this is an extremely odd romantic relationship. I pulled a sword from the barrel full of them. The metal sung softly.
“Oh,” the stranger said flirtatiously, “you are becoming more and more interesting.”
I gave him a mock bow, never breaking eye contact.
“What can I say? I am a woman of mystery.” I stepped closer to him, my sword scraping along the floor. “But I am afraid…” I rose my eyebrows….
“Captain Harlow.” The man lifted his hat and swept it across the floor as he bowed deeply.
“I am afraid, Captain Harlow, there is no Florence on this ship.” The sword scratched the wood as I wiped the dripping blood from my cheek. He jumped and scurried toward me hastily.
“Ah! But that is what you think! She is deceptive, you see… not to be trusted.” I rolled my eyes; I had known many deceptive people in my days.
“Then I suppose we’ve come to a standstill. You want a Florence, but I do not have one, what now?” I had missed my own strength; I had missed my own wit and ability to fight.
“Perhaps I could take you instead?” Captain Harlow eyed me.
“Oh, I’d rather you didn’t.” We circled each other slowly.
“I think you’d fit in nicely with my crew.” He looked down at the body and nudged it with his feet. “And your ship does not look as though it’ll last much longer… not to mention the man you just killed.” He jumped closer to me, sword in hand.
I fell into my fighting stance and looked over at the splintered wood and the small puddle of water welling against it. Could we make it to land?
“No, the next island is miles away,” he winked. “If that’s what you were thinking… I suppose it’s join my crew or die.” Movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention, the Captain turned toward it.
“I’m bored.” He clasped my wrist, twisted, and pulled my back flat against his chest, a small dagger at my throat.
“Florence, come out or I’ll slit her throat, I’ve played your games long enough.” He pushed the dagger into my throat, drawing blood.
“Stop, please, I do not know a Florence.”
“That is where you are wrong, sweet girl,” Captain Harlow whispered in my ear. He dragged the dagger, and a scream escaped my throat.
“Enough, Harlow.” Dahlia sat on the bow of his ship, her legs dangling just like Harlow”s had moments ago. Air rushed to my lungs as I was released.
“Oh, Florence, it’s good to see you, sweet girl.”
“Oh, Harlow, I wish I could say the same.”