Page 72 of Crossbones
“Or maybe some boot polish…”
“Caspian, I’m not your errand boy—” I snap.
“Oh my god, will you just go in there? For Christ’s sake—” As we’re bickering, the door to the shop opens and we both turn.
A beautiful woman steps out, adding some ribbons to one of the displays. She laughs at something one of the nearby vendors says and as she turns, the world nearly falls out from under me. I must have made a sound because she looks up—her eyes going huge when she sees me.
I take a step towards her. “May?”
“James?”
I’m moving before I even realize what I’m doing, and the next moment she’s in my arms, holding onto me tightly.
“James—what are you doing here?”
“I can’t believe—”
“I thought you were dead.”
We’re both trying to speak at once—saying the last sentence at the same time. I finally pull away enough to really look at her. She’s older obviously but her dark blue eyes, so similar to mine, still have the familiar laugh lines on the edges.
“May,” I say incredulously. “It’s really you—”
I touch her face, convinced I’m talking to a ghost. She laughs that laugh again—the same one I’ve replayed over and over again in my memories, and puts her hand over mine.
“It’s really me, brother,” she says. “Come inside, I’ll make some tea.”
May takes my hand and pulls me inside the warmth of the cozy shop. I sit down in a daze on a stool at the counter and watch her, transfixed, she's really here—I can’t stop staring as she bustles around for supplies.
“What are you doing here, May?” I ask. “How did you get here?”
I have so many questions. She places two mugs on the counter and comes around to sit on the stool next to me. Her eyes wander across my face and I can see the same disbelief—the same worry I might be a ghost.
“It’s a long story,” she chuckles. “But after the attack, you and mother were—gone,” she says, stumbling over the sentence that was obviously difficult for her to get out. “Everything was a mess. Once the soldiers left, the town was in disarray—a lot of looting, just not a good place to be anymore. I didn’t know what to do—” Tears fill her eyes and I put my hand over hers on the counter. “I think several days went by, it could have been longer, time was weird during all of that. I think I was numb to it all and just in pure survival mode. But I remember the day clearly: I saw sails on the horizon and I was terrified the soldiers were coming back. Everyone was. But instead,hestepped off the ship.”
Her attention turns to the front window of the shop. I follow her gaze to see Caspian playing catch with a few of the children out in the street.
“Who came?” I ask, confused.
“Fox,” she says, a fond look taking over her face as she watches Caspian play with the children. “Although, everyone really knows he’s a De’Vero prince.” She whispers to me as though sharing a piece of gossip.
“I don’t understand,” I say slowly, not able to comprehend what she’s saying.
“Fox called everyone together. He said he had a place where we could go and start over. A lot of the people were angry, but he was patient—came with food and supplies and an open invitation to come aboard his ship. I didn’t know what else to do so I followed a group of people onboard, and sure enough—a few weeks later we arrived here.”
My jaw hangs open at her words.
“Thatman?” I state incredulously. “Caspian De’Vero?”
May smiles. “The very same. He helped us get situated and didn’t leave until we’d all been placed with people who would help us get on our feet.”
I can’t find words. May takes a sip of her tea, giving me a minute to process this shocking information. Her eyes crinkle gently, the fondness and familiarity apparent, as she watches Caspian through the window.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why would he help you?”
