Chapter 5 #2
“Blackbeard’s Cay.” He rises, his teal robe vibrant even in the moonlight. Long braids are gathered at his back and twisted into a rope.
“Are you Blackbeard then?”
He smiles, and then it turns into a hearty laugh.
I guess he’s not Blackbeard. Good. Maybe it’s just named Blackbeard’s Cay because Blackbeard used to live here.
Or maybe it’s like, I don’t know, the way a restaurant names itself after a famous person.
Maybe before it was just “Sandy Cay” and no one came to visit, but when Huran renamed it “Blackbeard’s Cay” it became all the rage and—Whoa.
Yeah, I probably need to rest some more.
He stops laughing and offers me more water. “Apologies. It’s just no one has ever mistaken me for Ed.”
“Ed?”
“Sorry, I meant Blackbeard.” He smiles again, and I estimate he’s possibly fifty or so from the laugh lines.
I take the proffered water, drinking more this time.
“That’s enough for now.” He smooths my blanket. “I’ll let the others know you’re feeling better.”
“Wait.” I try to reach for his hand, but my arm barely moves.
“Yes?”
“You have to get me back to Peter. Hook kidnapped me, and he’s going to kill me.”
His dark brows draw together. “I don’t think—”
“Please! I’m supposed to be on the island.” I shake my head. “No. I’m supposed to be grading composition papers, but that’s neither here nor there at this point.”
“I’m sorry, Moira. I think you’re confused.” He squeezes my hand. “I’ll get Ed and James.”
“Wait!” I finally make a grab for him and snag his fingers. “Hook will kill me. Please! Don’t let him kill me.”
“You shouldn’t get worked up like this. Not in your condition. Please, relax. You’re safe here.”
“I’m not safe anywhere if Hook’s nearby.” I glance at the door. “Is he?”
He gently removes my fingers from his and pats the back of my hand. “Get some more rest. I’ll have a talk with James, all right?”
I can see I’m not going to get anywhere with him. He’s looking at me like I’m spouting total nonsense. I may as well go along with him … For now. “Okay. That’d be great.”
He gives me a slightly strained smile, one that tells me he’s not entirely convinced. “Rest. It’s what you need right now. I’ll talk with James and have the cook bring you some foods that will be easy on your stomach.”
“Thank you.” I settle back on my pillow and close my eyes.
Once he’s gone, the door shut behind him, I start looking around. There has to be a way out of this room. A flapping sound draws my gaze back to the window as the seagull returns to its perch. This time it’s not laughing, just eyeing me with curiosity.
If it can come and go through the window, then so can I. I only hope I’m not on a high floor. But Huran is right about one thing—I need to rest. There’s no way I’m making any great escape in this state.
I take Huran’s advice, biding my time in bed as sleep comes and goes.
When a knock comes on the door, I try to say, “come in” but my throat has gone dry again.
The door opens anyway, and a young woman walks in. She’s wearing a black corset and white shirt that barely covers her ample cleavage. A cutlass hangs at her side, her long black hair is swept back in a high ponytail, and I swear she looks like a sexy cosplay pirate.
“You’re awake.” She slides a tray onto the bedside table. “Let’s have a look at the woman who’s got the whole cay in an uproar.” Bending down, she grabs me under my arms and lifts me into a sitting position.
My back pops, and I didn’t realize how much I needed a change until I’m settling back against the pillows, relief in my spine.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Here.” She gives me some water, and I reach up with a shaking hand to hold the cup that seems to be fashioned from a coconut shell. I grip it shakily, but she lets it go so I can hold it by myself. Progress.
When I’m done, I almost drop it, but she takes it and places it beside me, then motions toward the tray.
“I made some simple things for you. Huran said you’re positively peaky, and I’d say he’s right.
” She gives me a long look, then grabs something from the tray.
“Let’s start with rice. Nothing fancy.” She spoons some for me and places it to my lips.
I’m not particularly hungry, my stomach feeling akin to a dried-up old prune, but I need to get stronger. Besides, I should be grateful for real food. Those neverberries weren’t cutting it, apparently.
I take a small bite, a few grains of rice on my tongue that she helps me wash down with water.
“Good start. Let’s keep going.” She spoons me some more, my mouth finally loosening up as I chew. “I’m Widow, by the way.”
“Moira.” It comes out froggy.
“Nice to make your acquaintance. Here.” She spoons some more into my mouth, a decent amount this time. I chew, feeling accomplished. Damn, I must’ve been seriously messed up if chewing does it for me.
I shake my head when she offers me another spoonful.
“How about some pudding? I made it from Crabapple’s milk. She’s a sassy heifer, but her milk is sweet as pie.” She spoons some pudding to my mouth.
Generally, I’m not a pudding fan, but with a description like that, how can I say no? I take some of it and am pleasantly surprised by its taste. A little vanilla, a little brown sugar, a lot creamy—this is definitely not a run-of-the-mill Snack Pack.
“Good, right?” She gives me another spoonful, then another.
I finish almost the whole little bowl of it before shaking my head again.
“I think this is a good showing. Blackbeard will be pleased, and Hook might lay off for a while.” She rolls her eyes. “I’ve never seen that man acting like this huge of an ass—and believe me—he’s always an ass.”
“You know Hook?” I struggle to get the words out, my eyelids already feeling heavy again.
“Of course. I’m a boatswain for Blackbeard—well, I guess I mean to say I was before he retired.” She grabs the plate and stands.
That’s when I see the pair of wings on her back. They’re almost see-through, like a ghost of wings, and far smaller than Tinker Bell’s.
“I can tell you’re gawking at them.” She gives me a look over her shoulder. “It’s all right.”
“You’re a fairy?” I ask.
“Only partly.” She shrugs. “Can’t fly. Can’t do magic. But I make a mean pudding.” She smiles again, then heads for the door.
“Thank you,” I call after her, a million questions flitting around my brain but none coalescing onto my tongue.
“See you again soon. I intend to feed you well. Blackbeard wants all of Neverland to know how we treated Peter’s boon.” The last word draws blood, like an accidental needle poke.
“What does that me—”
She closes the door before I can get the question out.
I slump back against the pillows, the food sitting heavy in my stomach. Maybe I shouldn’t have had so much pudding.
The bathroom is small but clean. Nothing fancy—no mirror or a real vanity, but it works.
I’ve been able to walk myself to it, though it does require a hobble on my part.
But I feel stronger. I don’t know how many days—or nights—I’ve been here, but it’s worked wonders.
Or maybe the food has. Widow has brought me meals and little tidbits of gossip during her visits over the past few days.
Still, she isn’t exactly forthcoming when I ask about Hook or Peter, or anything to do with Neverland.
She’s close-lipped, and I can tell that it’s the way Blackbeard wants it.
I don’t know why. I’ve yet to meet the man.
But at least now I know he’s not the one who murders his wives.
He’s the biggest pirate of all time, according to Widow.
Maybe she’s biased since she’s on his crew.
I think Hook is the most well-known pirate I can think of, then Captain Jack Sparrow after him, and maybe the bearded pirates a few spots down from that.
But Hook hasn’t come to see me either. Maybe he feels that his prisoner is all sewn up with my bum leg and second-floor bedroom.
I intend to show him just how wrong he is, but I’m still working up to it.
At least Widow’s given me some interesting intel.
Like how Blackbeard and Huran are an item and have been since they first met when Blackbeard attacked Huran’s vessel.
A real meet cute on the high seas with things exploding all over the place.
Huran added some more color to the story when I asked him about his history with Blackbeard, but he got shy about the spicy parts.
He truly is a kind person. It’s a shame he got mixed up with pirates, but I suppose you can’t help who you fall in love with.
I limp back to my bed and sit hard on the mattress with a groan. My seagull, who I’ve named Sally, still perches on her window, her shrewd eyes on me. “No treats today, I’m afraid. Widow saw me trying to hide some hashbrown from breakfast for you, and she scolded me.”
Sally laughs and shakes her feathers before returning to watching the shore outside.
A breeze drifts in from the ocean, and the moon glow shows me a glittering sea that stretches far to the horizon before disappearing in a hazy fog.
Neverland is out there. I can’t see it, but I can feel it.
Like it’s lashed itself to my bones and pulls my strings.
I hear footsteps in the hallway and recognize them as Huran’s. He knocks and enters, his usual teal robe replaced with a white one.
“You’re looking spry today.” He smiles and kneels by the bed to inspect my leg. “Very nice. Let’s keep leaving it unwrapped. The stitches came out nicely, and everything’s healing up well.” He stands. “You’re a lucky woman.”
“What’s with the new outfit?” I ask as I lean back against the pillows.
“This old thing?” He spins for me. “You’re too kind. Blackbeard has called a meeting of pirate captains. I have to make a good host for the event.”
“A meeting? Why?”
He looks away. “Oh, you know, just usual pirate things, I suppose.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“I know.” He sighs and sits on the edge of my bed.
“How about the truth?” I probe.
He pats the back of my hand. “All you need to know is that you’re safe here, all right?”