Page 29 of Daughter of the Dark Sea
Koji hesitated and Samuel smirked at him.
“Very well,” the healer swallowed. “About the boy . . .” Kora’s chest tightened. “What are we doing with the body?” His tone was matter-of-fact. Void and emotionless. All three males looked towards her expectantly. It washerdecision. The weight of it crushed her shoulders, and she rubbed her hand over her face.
“We’ll do a sea-fire burial at dusk, near the coast of Blackstone Reef. Before we make port tomorrow.”
“You don’t wish to return Mr Blackstone to his family?” Confusion clouded the healer. “It’s the correct procedure for sailors—”
“Sea-fire burial,” Kora interrupted, “at dusk.”
Finlay wouldn’t have wanted his eternal corpse abandoned to his putrid, unforgiving family. She’d spent nights with Finlay on the quarterdeck, listening to the tales of the infamous noble Blackstone family. How cold and harsh they were, how dark their minds and ideals had become—as dark as their famous black shores. All that mattered to them was power and their titles—so much so that they would exile their eldest son to the Silent Tundra for the sake ofappearances.
Kora planned to set Finlay free, on the eastern shallows of the Shaurock Sea, where he first experienced freedom on her ship. Conveniently beyond the hallow clutches of Blackstone Reef. There was no greater place than the expanse of the ocean.
And a greatfuck youto the Blackstones.
Samuel and Aryn hovered in uncomfortable silence as Koji keenly observed her, seemingly focusing on her eyes. She supposed they were a unique colour, a blue so vibrant it bordered upon unnatural. Many males became entranced in her stare, until they realised what lurked between her legs and asserted their own annoying dominance.
“You may visit Mr Marwood tonight.” The healer turned on his heel and shuffled away.
“Those healers can be so uppity,” Samuel quipped as he sat at the desk, the chair groaning under his impressive weight.
Aryn silently sank into a chair to Kora’s left, after dusting some feathers from it, whilst she placed herself opposite Samuel, the entrance to her quarters in her sight.
“They believe in forces that are above the empire,” she replied, as she tried to force her body to relax, lightly scratching her wrist.
“Ach! You don’t believe in that gods nonsense, do you?” Samuel tutted.
Aryn’s curious gaze slanted towards her.
“Of course not,” she shrugged with her nonchalant lie, and Aryn’s shoulders pinched. She frequently conversed with the sea goddess, Calypso, in her mind—albeit one-sided conversing—praying for good voyages and seas. “How’s our . . . guest?” Her tone dripped with venom.
“Aye, he won’t speak no more.” Samuel sifted through the small, silver platter of food laid on top of the navigational charts. “I think Silas’ death broke him.”
He inspected Kora through blonde lashes as he helped himself to dried meats, fruit, and sea biscuits. She refused to meet his stare. She also refused to acknowledge the stirring of shame within her.
“They had a unique bond,” Aryn spoke, his voice hoarse, “and were incredibly strong.”
So she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. The Flint twins had surprising strength, surpassing the brute force of males like Samuel. Silas’ scrawny arms had delivered a death blow so severe thecrackof bones still scraped against the inside of her skull.
“Suppose you’ll say that’s the gods as well?” Samuel joked, but a flash fleeted across Aryn’s gaze before it was replaced with muted amusement.
“Whatever it is,” Kora interjected, “two pirates escaped the pit, hijacked my ship, killed Finlay—nearly killed Blake! What happened out there?”
Samuel sighed, tracing his shortened beard. His thick fingers trailed down, past its blunt end, absentmindedly playing with the space where his original beard ended. A white bandage peeked through the edge of his half-unbuttoned black shirt.
“As I said before . . . we’d settled in for sleep. We received orders the ship was anchoring for the night and didn’t need as many crewmen stationed.”
She’d given no such order.
“Next thing, this dark sleep smoke exploded in the quarters, knocking everyone out. I grabbed a cloth and covered my face in time, and passed out only momentarily compared to the others.” His tattoos stretched across his flexed, large muscles, making his point.
“Exploded?” she asked. “Smoke doesn’texplode.”
“I don’t know how else to describe it.” Samuel motioned with his hands. “It filled the room within a second . . . andsilently.”
“How did you avoid it?” Kora shifted her scrutinising stare to Aryn.
“I’m fast,” he replied flatly.
