Page 18 of Daughter of the Dark Sea
“Andwhy,” Blake added from the shadows.
The scent of the sweet juices from the apple wafted into the air and the prisoner lunged forward, his hands gripping the bars of the cell so tightly his knuckles turned deathly white. Kora cut another slice and placed it into her mouth with a satisfying, loud moan.
Yet . . . silence persisted.
“Let’s make a deal.” She hovered the half-eaten apple out of the pirate’s reach. “A piece of food for everytruthfulanswer.” She gestured beside her, and the pirate drooled at the second apple and small loaf of bread also present on the table, a whimper escaping his lips.
“And me brethren?” he asked quietly.
“If he accepts the same deal, he will eat.” Kora placed her hand on her chest in a silent oath.
“We don’t know much.” His eyes nervously darted from her to the food. She sliced her dagger down the apple once again and offered the piece of fruit.
“Tell us what you can.”
He snatched the apple slice from her calloused fingers, shoving it into his mouth and chewing sloppily. She prepared another slice as he groaned, his hands immediately returning to clutch at the bars.
“We joined the crew late,” he spoke rapidly. “Cannon already had the booty from Galen.” Kora dropped another piece of apple into his filthy hands and reached for the loaf of bread. “All I know is, we were goin’ to an important meetin’ at Peril Cove. From the north. Cannon said we was to grab somethin’ special there. Next thin’ I knew, all the pirate lords showed up.”
“The pirate lords?” She froze cutting the loaf of bread. “What do you mean the pirate lords were there?”
A sly smile broke on the pirate’s face. “The four ships.”
“There were five . . .” she whispered.
“They always brin’ a spare. A diversion.”
“Shit,” Blake cursed from the darkness. “Cannon is—was—a pirate lord?”
The pirate nodded solemnly.
“He didn’t put up much of a good fight,” Kora scoffed, remembering the countless poorly aimed cannons from his vessel.
“Who’s to say he was fightin’?” the pirate countered.
Kora frowned, and she opened her mouth to speak but the pirate grasped for the bread in her hands. “Ye swore!” She chucked a small piece at him, and he scrambled for it hysterically before it landed in a puddle of piss.
“You’ve still not explained the connections to Galen,” Blake pushed, emerging from the dark gloom, his arms crossed. “We saw the ships retreat into the Mist. No one goes into it, not even scum like you.” He cast a cautious glance towards Kora. If those ships were truly the pirate lords, the situation was more dire than they’d thought—and they’dkilledone of them. It was grounds for another war.
“Aye, I don’t know how Cannon got the booty from Galen.” His lips smacked from eating, and Kora exhaled to quash her rising nausea. “But there were rumours on theDemon. They say the Mist was made. By a man.”
Blake let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “That’s ridiculous, a man can’tmakemist—especially one that can kill you.”
“Tis what I heard. A man made the Mist, and he can control it. Who goes in,” he motioned with his hands, weaving them into the shadows. “And who goes out.” He withdrew his hand from the darkness and flexed his palm open once again, demanding his payment of food. Blake whipped out his hand, preventing Kora from passing over another piece of bread. She glared at him.
“That’s a lie. Magic doesn’t exist,” Blake’s voice frosted.
The pirate ignored Blake, his stare meeting Kora’s, and his tone turned serious and eloquent as he spoke in the Devanian language, “You know it does.”
Her heart stopped.
“Stop that,” Blake snapped. “No one speaks that gibberish anymore.”
Kora flinched internally but kept her face neutral. It was a beautiful language, and their world still used a few of the words when convenient. Blake frequently called her hisasterya,but it was one of the few words she pretended to understand.
“It used to exist,” he said to Blake. “Ye should learn ye history, lad.”
The talisman nestled between her breasts warmed and she rubbed her chest, willing her heart to settle back into its normal rhythm.
