Page 30 of Daughter of the Dark Sea
She scoffed her disbelief, but Samuel nodded excitedly. “Aye, Captain. I’ve never seen anyone move faster than the lad.”
“I saw Finlay leave the quarters.” Aryn drank from the waterskin beside the food platter, quenching his hoarse throat. “He looked like he was going to be sick. I guess from all the grog. I went to follow but heard a yell outside, and then the sleep smoke exploded, as Sam said. I escaped out of the quarters, breaking the door in the process. Someone had locked it. I ended up collapsing on the far side of the deck away from the brig.”
Kora glanced to the bruise at the side of Aryn’s head, and he nodded in confirmation.
“I knocked my head from the fall. When I came to, the fog had become dense, but I could see Jack skulking around. I followed him here . . .” His slanted gaze searched for the mysterious treasure the Flint twins desired. “Jack didn’t go down without a fight.” Aryn tapped the top of his skull where, sure enough, dried blood matted his thick hair.
“If you hadn’t broken the door, I don’t think everyone would’ve woken up in time,” she deciphered. It was a stroke of luck, the open doorway allowing the sleep smoke to drift into the open air.
Samuel’s eyes widened. “That’d explain it, I was closest to the door. Where was Blake when this was happening?”
“He was giving me a debrief.” She pressed her lips together to prevent the smile threatening to surface. “On the prisoners.”
Samuel’s mouth curved. “How’d they escape the pit in the first place? The guard rotation is iron-locked.”
“They killed most of the guards with Cook’s cleaver knife.” She placed the weapon on the table, stained with Finlay’s blood. “I think Finlay rang the alarm, and it’s why Silas went after him. I think that’s why you saw Finlay leave the crew quarters. He must’ve seen something.”
After Jack had been locked in his cell, Kora had discovered a trail of mangled guards in the hold, and several disposed near the bowsprit. Her crew whittled down to one hundred and fifty, from its usual two-hundred capacity after the battle withDemon Sea Siren, and the Flint twins’ rampage.
“Shit. He was trying to warn us. You don’t think Cook would . . . ?” Samuel wondered out loud.
“Cook was with you in the quarters, right?” They both nodded. “So, either one of the guards happened to be carrying acleaver knife and was overpowered by the twins . . . or someone was helping them. Maybe itwasCook.”
“Well, shit,” Samuel cursed again, and sat back in his chair, exhaling deeply.
Aryn rubbed his rounded chin in contemplative silence. A light shadow of stubble lined his jawline. “They seem strong enough to break through the cells,” he observed. “I’m surprised Jack’s not tried to again, with the limited guards we have now.”
“Maybe it was a twin thing,” Kora considered. The Devanian tattoo was unmistakable. A clear-cut sign of theold ways.But magic had faded long before the two-hundred-year war. It no longer existed.
Until now.
“Forget the twin thing.” Samuel clenched his oversized fists. “We have a rat!”
Aryn’s eyes flared, understanding seeping in. “That’s why you summoned us here.”
Kora rubbed her aching scarred temple with a tired sigh. “There’re only three people I trust on this ship. One of them is in the med bay, and one is . . . gone.”
“I wouldn’t trust the healer,” Samuel winked, trying to lighten the mood. “But . . . Captain, if I may? You can trust Aryn. I vouch for him with every fibre of myself.”
Aryn startled at Samuel’s sincerity, his cheeks blushing.
Samuel had joined her crew whenHell’s Serpentwas founded. He’d dazzled her with his sailing knowledge and navigational expertise, daring to sail routes across the sea that’d never been attempted before, and swiftly earning them the title of the fastest shipin the armada. He enjoyed it immensely, stating it was the best ship he’d worked on, and would do so until he retired.
He appreciated the simple life, and continuously sought a bride—to Kora’s annoyance. There’d been too many times whenshe’d walked in on Samuel and a barmaid tangled in the sheets. He desired a mother for his future children, and a partner to build a home with. Countless barmaids and females had fallen to his charms, but none yet had snared his heart. Beneath that boulder-like exterior was a male as soft as a sea biscuit. And she liked sea biscuits.
Aryn on the other hand, was far more cryptic. His recruitment commenced several months ago, his reputation renowned before he joined. Despite his name drenched in inky shadows, she absorbed his youthful face. How could she ever forget him? Had he been hiding in the darkness, avoiding her path whenever necessary?
Yet, his demeanour, his skills, they flickered a faint light in the deep recesses of her mind. A firefly, in the blackness of tar tormenting her memory. Something about him was comforting to Kora. As well as becoming thick as thieves with Samuel, an aged kindness and resilience radiated from Aryn. She stared down the two males, accepting she wholeheartedly trusted one, and was warming to the other.
“I need you both to help me,” she begrudgingly admitted. “Investigate the crew. Talk to Cook. See what you can find out.”
“Aye! If there’s a rat, I’ll catch it.” Samuel banged his fist against the desk and scoffed another sea biscuit.
“We won’t have long,” Kora warned. “We make port tomorrow morning. Whoever did this will escape the ship and flee into the lands of Aldara.”
“We should interrogate the pirate again.” Samuel wiped his mouth before filling his stein with rum. She agreed, but she wanted to speak to Jack alone . . . to learn about what he knew of her secrets.
“I’ll speak to the crew.” Aryn’s mouth settled into a grim line. “I can use my position with the archers to gain information.” Her warmth for him increased.
