Page 91 of Of Magic and Rum
Jack looks surprised but not fazed and stirs into action. “Of course.”
“You don’t have to leave right this minute, right, Dad?” I steal a glance at my mother.
Dad looks at her, and she’s beaming. “No. We’ve got some time. Atlantis can fare for a few moments longer.”
The three most important men in my life exit the cabin, shutting the door behind them and leaving me and my mother alone. We stand there for several heartbeats, staring at one another, each fearful of speaking the first words. But my mother, as brave as I remember her being, is the first to talk.
“The new name you’re using, I understand what you mean, my beautiful daughter. Because I’ve chosen to do the same.” My mother presses her palms to the tops of her thighs, not knowing what to do with them.
I pull out the desk chair and motion for her to sit. “And what do you call yourself now?”
“Cordelia,” she answers, making her way to the desk.
I smile, beside myself. “Jewel of the sea.”
“Ironic, isn’t it?” My mother sits, and I prop on the desk near her.
“Well, Cordelia, I’d love to get to know you.”
We both smile and spend the next several hours telling each other stories of our lives and how my parents reconciled and made good on their second chance. She tells me that Jack is my other half, as I am his, and despite my father’s grumblings about his career choice, she knows Jack is a good man. I cursed the day Atlantis betrayed me and sent me to a place unknown. But now I realize the kingdom I’ve spent the better half of my ethereal life protecting was returning the favor. Jack and I are strongertogether. And despite no need for physical protection due to my immorality, Jack defends something far more fragile—my heart.
“I think it’s about time you give up, mate, before you lose your share of everything we just scored.” I’m sitting at one end of the barrel, a set of dice resting between me and Red, where I’ve rolled two doubles for the fourth time in a row.
Red’s leg bounces furiously, and he rubs his face. He stares at the dice before slamming down another gold coin. “Double or nothing, Cap. I’m feeling lucky.”
Grinning and shaking my head, I gather my winnings into a pouch hanging from my hip. “You’re done, Red. Save some of that for ale and pleasurable company once we’re in port, yeah?” I point at his wandering eyes, looking for another crew memberto challenge. “Don’t let me hear about you tricking Laust again, or I’llleaveyou in port.”
Red rolls his eyes and stands, stretching and rubbing his stomach. “Could probably use a jogging lap around the deck, anyway.”
Flicking my thumb against the emerald ring on my forefinger, I snort. “You? Run? Since when?”
“You’re right, Captain. I should stick with the exercise I’m best at—” Red reaches behind him and lifts a mug of grog. “—tankard lifts.” Grinning, he bends his arm to his mouth and sips.
“Carry on,” I jest, smiling and saluting him.
After smoothing out my coat sleeves, I slip my hand behind my back and parade the deck. The past months have been eerily quiet after the drama of sea monsters, witches, the Royal Navy, and the King of the Seas. At times, it’s almost been—boring. But we struck gold from a shipwreck off the coast of a small Jamaican island. Thanks to her sea nymph lungs, my beloved Anne retrieved the remaining treasure the rest of us couldn’t. What I wouldn’t have given to be able to see the gold in the broken chest still nestled in the same ship it originated.
Sighing and quickly ending this self-pity party I’ve started, I turn to Ragnar at the ship’s wheel. “The wheel suits you, brother.”
“It suits you far better, Captain. Why don’t you take over?” The skin beneath Ragnar’s eye quivers.
I’m still captain and perform all forms of captain-like duties, but more recently, I’ve handed the reins to Ragnar to spend more time—in my quarters.
Hoisting myself without the stairs, I jostle him. “But I dosoappreciate you taking on this responsibility, old friend, so that I can concentrate on moreproductivethings.”
“Despite the cotton I stick in my ears, I’ve heard yourappreciationthrough closed doors.” Ragnar gives me anindignant expression, but I’ve known him long enough to notice the tiniest smile tugging on his lips.
Resting my hands on my hips, I inhale the brine wafting in the air, and sigh. “Tell me this spot doesn’t have one hell of a view, though.”
“You owe me three pieces of silver, by the way.” Ragnar says this so “matter-of-factly” that it takes me off guard.
“Pardon me?”
Ragnar hangs lazily from one of the pegs. “Our bet? Three pieces of silver, you’d settle down within two years?”
Bollocks.
“We’re not married. At least in the biblical sense.” I drum my fingers on the railing.
