Page 70 of Of Magic and Rum
“Underwater,” he finishes for me, averting his gaze elsewhere. “Yes, you said. But we don’t know howfarunderwater.”
It brightens my spirits and simultaneously tears me up inside. Jack is trying to find any way possible to be at my side during this exchange.
“Dealing with her is going to be a sensitive matter. I know you’re the best swimmer on this ship, but we can’t risk you being unable to make it back if the grotto is submerged.” Lifting my palms to his face, I turn it toward me. “This won’t be like Nøkk. Ipromise.”
Jack sniffs and sucks spit through his teeth before letting out a defeated sigh. “I swear to the heavens, Anne, if something happens to you, I can’t say I won’t wish to watch the world burn.”
In a deep cavern in my gut, I believe him. Passionate people love hard, but they alsofighthard.
“It won’t come to that.”
Jack nods and lightly takes my hands in his, kissing my fingertips and palm. “I’m holding you to it, but I need you toknow that whereas I’m one of the more honorable pirates sailing the seas, my soul is fully capable of wickedness. Because as much as I live for myself, I alsolivefor my people.”
Ruthless when needed.
“I hear you, Jack.”
We both nod in unspoken agreement.
The wait for the spot where I’ll dive into the water, praying to the Seas the Charybdis hasn’t been following us, feels like an eternity. I sit on a barrel between Jack’s legs, with his arms cradling me for the duration of the trip. He whispers sweet and filthy words in my ear, which keeps me distracted. Laust has finally coerced Truffles into letting him ride on his back like a great steed. The sight of a red imp holding onto bunches of cat fur while Truffles runs from one side of the deck to the other, Laust holding on for dear life, isalsoquite the distraction. Glog plays his hurdy-gurdy, the tone growing somber as I tell Jack to drop the anchor because—we’re here.
I’m perched at the plank, undoing my belt, resting my flintlock in my pile of clothes, and securing the cutlass at my back.
Jack grabs my elbow. “Listen to me. I’m no idiot, and I know this witch will ask you to bargain in exchange for the parchment. Don’t agree right away. You hear me?Listento her words. There’s always a catch. You might as well be making a deal with the Devil.”
He’s right again. There is always a catch. The trick is to weigh out how detrimental that particular catch will be.
Not answering him straight away, I rise to the balls of my feet and kiss him deeply. “I have no words for how concerned you always are for me, an immortal, Captain.”
He traces his thumb under my bottom lip. “It doesn’t matter what you are. I’ll act the same. Haven’t you learned that by now?” Jack grins against my cheek and, resting a hand onmy hip, lightly pushes me toward the plank. “Go before I do something stupid.”
After blowing him a kiss, I flip from the plank, morphing my legs into the tail before hitting the water. Following the familiar thrum only other sea creatures can hear, I reach Morgana’s grotto without a run-in with the Charybdis. She’s situated her lair in an air bubble, floating and held still with rows of seaweed attached to the sea bed. The entrance is a glittering waterfall that only reveals itself to me once my scales shimmer.
“Who in the fu—” Morgana begins to say but stops short, her black eyes wide and staring at me.
“Morgana. Been a while, hm?” I flick my wet hair behind me, crossing the threshold without invitation because she never denies anyone entrance. No one.
“Awhile?” She clacks her long black fingernails, a cauldron unironically boiling in the corner with green smoke. “The last time I saw you, you were fourteen.” Her long raven hair falls in animated waves down to her hips.
A rebellious adolescent who made a deal with a sea witch to get back at Leiana, another young nymph, for kissing the boy she liked on the cheek. I had to bring her various fish for use in her concoctions for an entire month. It killed me watching so much aquatic life die for nothing and knowing it wasmypetty fault.
“I’ve come to ask another favor.” Even saying it aloud has my throat clamping.
“Oh?” Morgana’s lips slither into a serpentine grin, and she whisks to her pot, her charcoal robes swaying with her webbed feet, allowing her to stay afloat on the shallow water beneath us. “Do tell.” She grabs a jar of grubs from a rickety wooden shelf and tosses them into the mix, their short, high-pitched wails making me second-guess my decision.
No. I must do this. My family deserves to at least know I’m alive.
“I need an enchanted parchment sent to—” Pausing, I lick my lips and take a deep, staggering breath. “—my father.”
Morgana dusts her hands and tilts her head inhumanly to the side. “Could you not simply send a carrier pigeon?”
“I don’t know where he is. The parchment would find him no matter where orwhen, correct?” I hate how desperate I sound, but I can’t help myself.
Morgana materializes a seahorse and tosses the poor thing into the cauldron next, causing bile to climb up my throat. “Curious how you’ve been separated?”
“Why does that matter? Do you want to make the deal or not?” I’m anxious and furious and only wish to get thisoverwith.
She cackles until she gasps, her broad smile pulling the high sunken cheekbones tighter. “Such fire to match your hair, which I’ll need a lock of to connect you to dear old dad.” Morgana holds out her palm and makes a hurry-up gesture.
