Page 72 of Of Magic and Rum
IknowI’m an idiot for diving into unknown waters to ensure Anne’s safety. But I’ve not gotten very far in life by doing everything smartly. Some of the best decisions have been those where I acted on impulse versus mulling it over. This mentality has saved my life and crew members’ lives, leading me to my captaincy. Is she alright? Yes. Do I regret the risk? Never. Because if something had happened down there, I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself. I’d rather die trying than lie down and wait for things to occur one way or the other. Or worse, wait for someoneelseto do it.
No sooner had we arrived back on deck than I knew Anne would immediately wish to write the letter to her father. I whisked her to my quarters, saying nothing, and shut the door behind me with her nestled inside. We’re now back on course forGreece, and I’m at the helm, letting out my fifth deep sigh until finally, Duke pushes his glasses down his nose with raised bushy brows.
“Something on yourmind, son?” Duke’s holding back a smile. I can tell from the deep grooves forming in his cheeks.
“How kind of you to ask.” I turn to lean my elbows on the railing and sigh for thesixthtime. “The deal Anne made with the sea witch keeps playing in my head. There has to be more to it.”
Duke’s shoulders pull back, insinuating I’ve piqued his interest. “What was it?”
The way the witch’s fingers constantly curled, her wrists rotating, still plagues my thoughts. I won’t go so far as to call her “beautiful,” but she was far from what I imagined witches would appear to be. They’re supposed to look so old they could be on the brink of death, littered with hairy warts and missing teeth or something. “That Anne can’t harm her daughters, whoever the hell they are, for the rest of eternity. Underanycircumstances.”
Nodding, Duke strokes the hair surrounding his mouth. “And your first hunch?”
His question elicits a smile from me because this is Duke’s way. He’s human like any other man and doesn’t possess all the answers, but he knows how to guide you to answer them for yourself.
“Not sure what gives this witch her jollies, but something tells me it’s watching others suffer, knowing she’s to blame.” Truffles is on deck in rare form, and he rubs against my calves, flicking his tail at my knee.
Duke removes his glasses and uses his shirt to clean dried water spots. “And how would this deal, in particular, make Anne suffer?”
A twitch forms in my jaw, and I gaze at the crew. Mary barks orders to those pulling ropes for the sails; Ragnar stands motionless with his arms folded in a shadowed corner, andSquid leans forward in the crow’s nest, holding onto the mast with one hand and shading his eyes with the other. “Mary, you, Glog—” Pausing, I avert my eyes back to Duke. “—me.”
“Ah, yes.” Duke slips the glasses back to his nose and takes hold of the wheel. “Making one suffer by inflicting pain on those closest to them over them alone.”
I punch my knuckles against the wood. “And what’s worse? She’d feel helpless not being able todoanything about it.”
“Who are her daughters, I wonder?” This time, it’s a genuine question from Duke, not one to provoke thought.
Retrieving my sash from a pile of effects I’d left on deck before diving into the sea, I tie it around my waist. “I haven’t the foggiest, but I’ll ask Anne when she’s ready.”
The door to my quarters swings open, and Anne steps out with the parchment clung to her chest. Her eyes are wide and verging on petrified.
Speak of the Angel.
“Anne, love,” I reach out a hand, placing it at the small of her back. “Are you alright?”
She sucks her lips into her mouth and rapidly shakes her head. “No. I’m terrified this isn’t going to work. Ithasto work.”
I rub up and down her arms. “It will work. And look, I already found a bottle.” Plucking the empty one I procured, I prop it between us. “Still reeks of rum, but it’s dry, and it’ll—” Before I can finish, her arms wrap around my neck, her nose nuzzling my jaw. I smile into her scarlet hair. “It’s only a bottle.”
“No, it’s—” Anne pulls back, sniffling, her eyes brimmed with red as if she’s about to cry. The mere thought of her in tears makes me anxious. “—will you do it? I can’t watch.”
“Of course.” Gently, I take the parchment from her, rolling it tighter until it’s small enough to fit through the bottle’s opening. Once secured inside, I shove the cork into it, using my palm to wedge it further.
With the bottled scroll in hand, I turn to the sea, wind up, and toss it into the depths. The bottle floats on the surface, deep blue waves crashing against the glass. After several seconds, it disappears in a shimmering flash of blue. My grip creaks against the wood, and I snap my gaze from left to right, looking for any signs of it, but it’s just—gone.
“Um,” I blurt, clearing my throat.
Anne’s eyes are closed, her hands clutched under her chin. “Um? Why, um, Jack?”
“Is it—” This news can go one of two ways, and I’m praying it’s what she wants to hear. “—is it supposed to disappear into nothingness?”
Anne joins me at the railing, a wide grin plastered to her gorgeous face, eyes glossy with tears. “Yes. It worked.” She slaps her hand on the wood. “Itworked. They’ll know I’m safe.” She grabs my face, pulls me to her lips, and kisses me, sweet and salty, with a tear rolling down her cheek.
“Glad someone’s safe,” Duke barks. “Because we’re sure not.”
Despite clear blue skies, an unexplainable fog appears, surrounding the ship.
“Anne, who exactly are the sea witch’s daughters?” I draw my cutlass and ready my pistol in the opposite hand.
