Chapter 9 #2
“You’re young. You’re what, 25?” I ask.
She winks. “Neverland and the waters around it do strange things with time. Don’t forget that. I may look 25, but I can promise you I’ve lived a whole lifetime in here.” She taps her chest.
“Is that why Hook and the others look young, too?”
She nods. “Aye, he’s been in these waters longer than anyone else. He’s aged but little, they say.”
“That’s …” I try to fit in that information with what Peter told me about the island losing its power. That’s how he explained his aging. But how does that explain Hook’s?
“One night, the party lasted well into the wee hours. The cook tasked me with staying up late and fetching any requests from the guests. I waited in an antechamber. I wasn’t supposed to sit on the furniture, but it was late, and I was tired.
I decided to rest on a small sofa, ready to jump up if someone should ring or the door should open.
But I fell asleep.” Her tone darkens, and she looks away again.
“And when I woke, I wasn’t alone.” She clears her throat.
“I fought them, too. Same way you fought Calico Jack. But I wasn’t strong enough.
Not then. I couldn’t stop it. And after, when none other than the master of the house found me lying broken on the floor, he fired me and instructed the entire household to never speak of me again. ”
“Widow.” I have no words. Nothing I could say would ever be enough to dull the pain of her memory. I wrap an arm around her, giving her silent support.
She takes a deep breath. “I was dumped in an alley in the town nearby. They treated me with as much disdain as the lord did. I was kicked and spat upon, called a whore and worse. I managed to drag myself into a stable and laid down in a pile of hay to die. But I didn’t.
A milkmaid came through the next morning, found me there, and she helped me.
Even though she knew who I was, knew what the lord had said about me—she helped me.
I survived because of her. Sarah was her name.
” She smiles, real warmth spreading across her face and making her look youthful and happy.
“She was an angel, I think. An angel of mercy.” She turns to look at me, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears.
“Because of her, I became an angel, too. One of vengeance. I recovered for a month, regained my strength, and when the lord threw another lavish party, I dressed in my old clothes and snuck in through the service entrance. I kept my head down and stayed in the areas where the guests were. There, no one would notice me. The men who’d hurt me were there, drinking and laughing with the lord.
” She reaches across her body, her fingers toying with the grip of her cutlass.
“I picked them off one by one. Lured them through that stunning estate’s rooms until I had them where I wanted them.
They thought they were going to have their way with me.
” She grips the hilt of her blade and pulls it free.
“I gutted each of them and left their bodies on the fine furniture.”
“Holy shit.” Is it weird that I want to applaud? I think it probably is, but it’s a visceral reaction. It’s real.
“I was messy.” She shrugs. “After that, I realized I needed to work harder, to study up on the many, many ways to kill a man. I did just that. And once I was ready, I realized my destiny lay on the sea. It led me here. Led me to you. Will lead me on to more adventures.” She leans against me.
“So maybe you weren’t strong enough with Calico Jack, but next time?
” She hands me her cutlass, the blade balanced on her palms. “Take it.”
I reach for the hilt and slide my hand behind the cupped guard. When I grip it, it’s a little heavier than I’d thought, but I can wield it. I can hold it up, though my arm shakes a little.
“Next time, Moira, you’ll be ready.” She takes my elbow and helps me to my feet. “Swing it. Get a feel for it.”
I do as she says, slicing through the air. “Like this?”
“Good.” She smiles. “Treat it like an extension of your arm.”
A knock comes at the door and then it opens. Hook’s eyebrows rise like a rogue wave as he watches me swing Widow’s cutlass.
“I see I’ve arrived just in time.” He holds the door open as Bill, the tattooed pirate, walks in with a cannonball wrapped in a burlap sack in his arms.
The large pirate deposits it on the foot of the bed, gives me a wry look as I hold the cutlass out toward him, then leaves.
“He was scared,” I tell Widow.
“Terrified.” She nods, her wings tittering.
Widow retrieves her blade and sheaths it. “Excellent. Lessons start tomorrow.” She strides out, her back straight and her head held high.
Hook closes the door, leaving just the two of us in his quarters.
“I guess you’re going to say I can’t learn how to use a sword?” I sink back onto the bed, my energy gone.
“Why would I say that, lass?” He adjusts the cannonball, then pulls down the blanket. “Get in.”
I want to argue with him, but I don’t. Not when I feel the heat radiating off the ball of metal. I ease down and lay on my side.
He tucks the blanket around me then stands. “I’ll check on your leg later. But you certainly seemed well enough to climb down from your room and run to the shore.”
Yeah, he definitely knows what I did.
“What was your plan? Row all the way back to that prick on Neverland?” His tone darkens.
I look up at him. “I was trying to save my life.”
“By getting captured by Calico Jack?” he snaps back.
“No!”
He rubs his forehead. “I’ve told you you’re safe here. You have my word on it. You were safe on Blackbeard’s Cay, as well.”
“Safe?” I snort. “Safe when you’re going to kill me?”
He drops his hand, slapping it against his thigh—drawing my eye to it. “Why would I kill you?”