Chapter 10 #2
Bill Jukes cracks his knuckles, the sound like gunfire, then runs one hand over his bald head. “Fine.” He sighs like this is by far the worst chore on his list for the day. “Hit me.”
“Hit you?” I lower my sword. “Like with my fist?”
“Any way you can.” He sounds bored.
I shouldn’t feel insulted. After all, he’s right to be bored—I’m already winded, covered in sweat, my leg is aching, and I lost feeling in my ass several falls ago. Even so, I want to show him I can do some damage.
“Go get him.” Widow gives me a shove forward.
I don’t lose my balance—point for me—and then charge at the huge man with my sword.
Then something happens. I don’t know how, but I’m yet again on my ass. I didn’t even get near him, and he’s knocked me down.
“What was that?” he asks.
“You’re lucky I can’t feel my cheeks.” I use the sword like a cane to help myself back to my feet.
He sighs. “If you come running like that, you deserve what you get.”
“Then what do you suggest?” I try to keep my knees from wobbling, but I’m so tired. It’s hitting me harder now that I’m trying to regroup and tackle the giant.
“Be smarter.” He drops to one knee so we’re almost at eye level.
The tattoos on his cheeks are of flowers, beautiful ones with dainty hummingbirds floating in midair.
They’re actually quite lovely. “You’re small.
You can’t use blunt force attacks and get anywhere.
You need to misdirect.” He reaches toward me—I’m too tired to even try to dodge—and he pulls a golden coin from behind my ear.
“You need to use your brain.” He taps my forehead lightly, then opens his palm where he held the coin and blows a paper butterfly into the wind. It floats away over the sea.
I can only stare at him. He’s so huge and scary, but when he’s down here on my level, I realize he’s utterly charming. And he can do magic—that’s always a plus.
“Rest. We’ll spar first tomorrow.” He gets to his feet and lumbers back below decks.
I turn to look at Widow, my eyes wide. “Who knew?”
“Bill’s a bruiser. But he’s also more than that.” She wraps her arm around my shoulder and walks me back toward Hook’s quarters. “Don’t judge us pirates so harshly, darling. We may not be eternal children, but we have a few tricks of our own.”
Her words are spoken lightly, but they land a solid punch.
I’ve judged everyone I’ve met ever since I left the island.
Even the people who saved my life. I owe Huran an apology, and I owe Blackbeard a proper thanks for allowing his husband to take care of me and welcoming me into their home.
In my quest to trust absolutely no one, maybe I’ve been a bit of a jerk. No, I definitely have. That’s sobering.
She gives my shoulders one more squeeze and lets go. “I’m going to see if I can annoy the shit out of Cookson in the galley. Lunch soon, hopefully, and then we’ll drop anchor and row over to the hideaway.”
“Okay.” I’m grateful for the break. I have a lot to think about. Not to mention, I need to regain feeling in my ass again.
“The captain is putting a great deal of trust in you.” Smee, the accountant, stands guard at Hook’s cabin door. “I hope it isn’t misplaced.”
“Good to know.”
“Lay off her, Smee.” Skylights, the ship’s quartermaster steps up behind me, his bag in hand. “Captain’s asked that I give you another checkup, especially after all your … exertion.” His mouth twitches as though he’s trying not to smile.
“Yes, I got my ass kicked.” I roll my eyes and push past Smee and into the captain’s quarters.
Skylights follows and closes the door on a glaring Smee.
“That guy is always giving me the stink eye.”
“Smee is very protective of the captain.”
“I don’t think Hook needs protecting.” I wince as I sit at the table.
“We all need protecting sometimes.” He slides his bag beside me and turns up the lantern. “Do you mind if I examine you?”
I shrug. “It’s fine.”
“Thank you.” He pulls out some sort of horn from his bag, then taps his chest. “I’d like to listen to your heart.”
I sit up straighter, and he presses the funnel-looking thing to my chest and listens for a while.
“Good.” He puts that away, then kneels and lifts my baggy pantleg.
“Huran did wonders on this bite. Great stitching, too. You’re healing nicely.
” He moves his fingers around the wound, and I grit my teeth against the little sizzles of pain. “How does it feel?”
“It doesn’t hurt as bad. Still aches, though.”
“It will for a while. But soon you won’t even think about it.” He lowers my pantleg then stands. “How about the rest of you? Any pain? Any headaches?”
“No. I mean, I used to have them every morning when I was on the island. But I suppose after the bite, I was more focused on that? I don’t know.” I try to think back to the last time I had one of those pounding headaches. “Yeah, no headaches. I’m good.”
“Nightmares?” He closes his bag slowly.
“Why? Do you have a cure for nightmares in your bag?”
“No, but that would be grand, wouldn’t it?” He looks at me expectantly.
“Oh, you were serious. Um, no, I don’t remember my dreams. Well, I did sort of when I first got here, but now I’m back to just nothing.” I tap my temple. “Blank.”
“Good.” He seems relieved.
“Wait.”
“Hmm?” He hefts his bag.
“Why would you ask about my dreams?”
“Neverland can have strange effects, especially certain parts of it.” He looks down at me, his eyes studying my face. “When I first saw you, you were suffering from the mermaid bite, but you also had something else. Another sickness.”
“What? No, I didn’t.”
“You did. A wasting disease I’ve seen before. It’s peculiar to the island and to …” He clears his throat and lowers his bag again. “Don’t worry. It’s not active at the moment. You don’t seem drained like before. Your color is much better, your heart stronger.”
“What were you going to say? You didn’t finish your thought.” I’m tired of half-truths and hidden bullshit. Widow is only starting to open up, Hook never shoots straight with me, and everyone else on this ship is more or less a mystery. But Skylights strikes me as someone who might level with me.
“It’s just a guess on my part.” He shakes his head. “I can’t be certain, so I don’t want to say more.”
“Say more.” I grab one of the handles on his bag, holding it hostage. “Seriously, tell me the truth.”
He glances at the door, then back at me. “Like I said, nothing for certain.”
“Don’t hold out on me.” I tighten my grip on his bag.
He thinks for a moment, then says, “Let me put it this way: I don’t think your time with Peter was great for your health. Now, if you don’t mind, I think Cecco mentioned a leak I need to fix.” He pulls his bag away from me.
“You fix leaks, too?” I ask half-heartedly, my mind still locked on what he’d just said.
He gives me a wry smile. “Not a leak on the ship, Moira. Cecco’s leakiness is a bit more … personal.”
When I figure out what he’s implying, I wrinkle my nose. “You’re a good medic to help him out with that.”
“I’ve tried to get him to lay off the wild women, the mermaids, the sirens, the succubi, the vampires, the goblin mistresses—all of it.
But there’s no talking sense into him. So, I just have to keep working on the damage.
” He gives me a small bow and backs out of the room, leaving me with my wrinkled nose and my curiosity piqued.
Does he think Peter did something to me?
Peter didn’t. Other than not feeding me anything other than neverberries, he never hurt me.
I think back through it all—how he saved me from the mermaids, rescued me from the Guardians, looked out for me around the cave.
But then I remember our last times together—when he prepared a bath for me and my mind got all fuzzy.
When the shadows erupted from the ground, the images of children with red eyes intent on chasing down anyone in their path.
What would’ve happened if one of them had caught me?
I shudder just thinking about it. But my revulsion doesn’t answer any of my questions. What were those things and how are they related to Peter? He denied they existed. He was wrong. Something’s not adding up.
A high-low whistle cuts across my thoughts, and I go back out on the deck.
Pirates are hurrying this way and that, tying off lines and furling sails as the ship slows. Neverland has risen on either side of us, the cliffs dotted with scrubby trees and veins of some sort of silver ore. The channel we’re in narrows sharply just ahead.
“Drop anchor!” Hook calls from the front of the ship, his back to me.
“Aye, Captain!” several pirates yell and begin twisting some sort of crank shaft.
I hurry to the railing and lean over to watch the anchor drop into the dark waters, sinking beyond my sight in an instant.
“You never forget your first time at the hideaway.” Starkey leans on the railing beside me. “You’re going to love it.”
“Lay off, Starkey.” Hook’s growl sends a tingle down my spine.
“Yes, Captain.” He winks at me before dashing away.
Hook glares at him for a while before turning to me. “Come, lass. I’ll row you to shore.”
He whistles, and Bill and Smee work on lowering one of the rowboats to the water below.
“I hope you don’t think I can climb up there.” I point to the sharp cliffs that rise like pincers on either side of us. “I’m barely standing from getting my ass kicked by Widow and Bill.”
“You did well today. Keep it up and you might make a fair pirate.”
I give him a sidelong look. “In the market for another crew member?”
He meets my eyes, a sparkle in his. “A good pirate’s worth their weight in gold. I’d pay you well.”
“Hmm, that’s a nice offer, but I’m not much for gutting or stabbing or pillaging. I’m afraid I can’t meet the job requirements.”
“You’d be surprised at what you’re capable of when it’s you or them.” His tone sobers.
“That got dark pretty fast,” I whisper.
His smirk returns, that near half smile that makes something clench low in my stomach. “Come on, lass. Let’s go ashore. Maybe you’ll change your tone when you see what a life of piracy can get you.”