Page 71 of Crossbones
I don’t know what any of it means but Caspian’s face darkens and he strides towards Van.
“Fucking, enough!” He grabs him by the arm and drags him out of the room.
I run a hand over my face and Harrison chuckles. “Welcome to the other side—not that I agree with the person you decided to experiment with but—” he shrugs as I scowl at him and head out into the hallway with him on my heels.
“What were our losses in the storm?”
“Bill and Tom were casualties of the boom,” Harrison says. “Kahn is also unaccounted for. Several minor injuries. The ship took damage to…” He continues talking as we make our way above deck. The ship is limping along, barely able to get any speed after the thrashing she received in the storm. “…We’ll drop all the sail we have. Should be able to reach three or four knots by the time we rig something up.” He pauses. “Have you heard of Foxhollow?”
I shake my head. “No, I haven’t.”
Whatever this place is, it’s obviously important and something they don’t want people readily knowing about. My mind tries to stay on the immediate things that need to get done in order to get us moving, but there’s no denying I’m distracted. The kiss is fresh in my mind—the electricity of the moment sends a thrill through me.
I’d seen him in the doorway and saidfuck it—I was done hesitating.
I can still feel him on my lips, taste him on my tongue.
I stand at the helm, looking out at the horizon and realize I’m about to learn something else about Caspian. My mysterious fox is slowly unraveling his secrets to me—like bits of a treasure I didn’t know I’d been searching for.
Caspian stands beside me vibrating with energy as we watch land come into view. I haven’t had a moment alone with him to talk about the kiss. Even though I’m pretty sure I don’t want to talkabout it—I want to experience it again—but between making sure the ship could survive the journey here and taking stock of all the damage the storm and battle with Malik caused, I hardly even had time to think about it. Not that it’s far from my mind, even now, I can feel his presence next to me, like the tide pulling me into him.
“What is this place?” I ask.
I can’t miss the small gleam of pride in his eyes as we drop anchor. “A safe haven, Captain.”
The sun is low in the afternoon sky behind us, sending golden rays cascading across the bay and the beach beyond. Green mountains burst from the ground behind a large sprawling town situated among towering pine trees. Large cliffs dominate their left flank with steep, forested slopes on the right making the narrow docks the only accessible point for the town.
A crowd has already gathered at the docks, intrigue over the foreign ship anchoring in their bay. I see the dockmaster looking on with concern and realize I probably should have lowered the Black before sailing into view. But the moment our row boat hits the quay, I see recognition in his eyes as they fall on Caspian.
“Fox! I didn’t recognize the ship, sir!”
It’s like his words open the dam and the people gathered swarm around Caspian.
“It’s okay, Ken—this is a special visit,” he says, a fondness in his eyes I haven’t seen before. He turns to the crowd, and with care and attentiveness, greets each person.
Van and Flynt brush past us to join Caspian in greeting the townspeople and Harrison mutters something in surprise at their reception. The three of them are obviously well-known and well-loved here.
Caspian looks over his shoulder, finding me immediately. His eyes are alight with purpose. He beckons to me and as he does, it’s like the attention all shifts, and murmurs rush through the crowd.
When I reach him, he nods towards town. “Come on, Captain, I have something to show you.”
I follow after him. It’s a modest, clean settlement and the deeper we walk into the center of town the more the smells of baking bread and roasting meats waft around us. A pack of laughing children chase a ball as they race down the street, and I step aside to allow them to pass.
I turn back to catch up with Caspian and see him with his head bent close to a vendor. I miss the conversation but Caspian beckons me to follow him once more. Caspian walks down a side street that’s just as busy as the mainthoroughfare. Colorful fabrics flap overhead and the stalls are covered with all manner of ribbons, jewelry and beautiful clothing. String lights criss cross above our heads, filtering soft golden light down onto the evening shoppers.
Caspian stops abruptly in the street outside a storefront.
“I think you should go in there,” he says casually.
I look at him in confusion. “Why?” My voice is a little harsher than I mean it to be but this is weird. I don’t need any ribbons—
“Don’t you need a new shirt or something?”
“Not particularly—”
“Well, I need one—Malik ruined mine,” Caspian says.
“Then go get it yourself,” I grumble.
