Page 31 of Daughter of the Dark Sea
“Jack’s mine,” she spoke with cold quiet. Both males beheld her apprehensively, but she returned their looks with a steely, unwavering gaze.
“Guess I’ll have a chat with Cook, then.” Samuel rolled his shoulders, lifting his stein to his mouth. “He’s a stubborn, tough bastard.” He heartily gulped, draining half of the drink in one mouthful. Ripping a top drawer open in the desk, he retrieved paper and a quill, jotting down notes, as drops of rum splashed onto the parchment from his beard.
“Is that a problem?” Kora asked saccharinely.
His smile dazzled her. “Certainly not, Captain. Just noting questions so I don’t get distracted. By food.” And with that, Samuel helped himself to the final dregs of food on the platter.
14
The setting orange sun dazzled against the onyx-stone shore of Blackstone Reef. Even from a distance, Kora reluctantly admitted the reef was stunning. A mile or so from the coast,Hell’s Serpenthad anchored, and the crew gathered starboard side.
Beyond the glittering pebbled ebony shores laid a grand keep made entirely of black basalt. She imagined the Blackstone family hobbling around the grounds, their backs hunched, limbs twisted, living in the eternal darkness of their pitiful souls.
A black leather harness clung to her chest, overlaying a white shirt. The crew had forgone the traditional black and green of the empire, and a sea of brown-and-white clothed bodies washed the deck. She hung precariously close to the edge of the railing, where Finlay had vomited the previous evening. Curling her hand around the green shroud, she used the biting sting of the rope to centre herself.
A hundred feet in front bobbed a wooden boat, listing over the gentle current. Upon it laid a long cloth-wrapped shape, tiedwith brown leather straps and ropes. A silver broadsword rested on top of the figure, its metal marred.
Kora turned to her crew, their solemn faces basking in the warm, titian sun. At the rear of the crowd, Aryn held a lit iron torch. A faultless, straight line of archers flowed next to him, their mighty longbows in their hands, and lethal arrows dripping with oil.
“Today, we mourn the loss of a good sailor,” her voice travelled on the gentle breeze. “Finlay Blackstone was brave, and he fought with his life against the scum of pirates.”
A crew member spat on the deck at the mention of pirates, and Kora’s eyes cast over the crew. None of themknewFinlay. None of them knew about his inner demons. They were angry at the Flint twins, and at losing several of their crewmates. Butshewould give Finlay the send-off he deserved.
“Finlay . . .” she paused. “Finlay . . .” her voice trembled, her grip tightening on the shroud until the rope grazed her palm. The crew murmured at her wobble, frowning at her emotional exposure.Hell’s Serpentrocked in time with the bobbing boat, and her core steadied with the comfort of the ocean sea, soothing her aching soul.
“Finlay had been looking for his true home,” Kora raised her voice, her captain-tone taking the reins. “He was looking for somewhere to belong, and I believe he found it with us onHell’s Serpent. His future—his hopes—were torn away from him. Just as pirates tear apart families, dreams, and lives. Now . . . we will set him free!”
She thumped her fist on her chest in a steady, beating rhythm, and cries of grief rang from the crew as they joined in unison, humming the tune of a farewell sea shanty. They created a wave of sound with their feet, hands, and weapons, yelling for their fallen comrades. The formidable beat ofHell’s Serpentgrew, until she was sure the Blackstone family could hear it from their obsidian castle.
Aryn lit the arrows of his squad, and flaming arrows soared above Kora, landing on their mark without missing. The boat ignited, becoming a roaring flame on the surface of the darkening water.
As the flames flickered, blending into the deepening orange-toned sky, more wooden boats floated along the ocean surface, away fromHell’s Serpent, carrying the deceased guards. Silver brimmed her eyes as she breathed out her waves of grief, until all that remained was her endless well of loss.
It was a respected naval ritual to be buried by sea-fire. In Devania, they believed the dead would be ferried to the spirit realm of Umbra by Thanos. Instead, the empire encouraged the lore of Davy Jones escorting souls across to the Locker, forever in the ocean where they belonged. What had started as a tale soon turned into a nightmare, using Davy Jones as a tactic to spread fear amongst subordinates.
Someday, Kora would be reunited with her forgotten lost family, in Umbra. It was a comforting solace to knowsomethingawaited her on the other side. Resolve seared through her. She didn’t come fromnothing. A family existed for her somewhere, whether in this realm, or the next. And she would find them and fill their blank faces with wondrous detail.
A second wave of burning arrows volleyed, and four giant flames danced on the undulating ocean, in the shape of a diamond. Bottles of grog passed amongst the crew. Some cried, some laughed, as they all dispersed, muttering their prayers and despairs.
A large, blonde male weaved through the crowd towards the equally large and threatening dark-haired Cook. Aryn silently appeared at her side, expertly balancing on the railing with delicate ease, whilst her gaze pinned to Finlay’s drifting boat.
“The crew didn’t know much,” he murmured quietly, passing her a metal stein of dark liquid. Kora pressed it to her lips, savouring the warm burn as it travelled down her throat, loosening the tight knot within her. She wasn’t sure what type of grog it was, but she welcomed it. “Most don’t remember last night. Sleep smoke impairs memories as well.”
“How convenient,” she muttered. She knew the feeling all too well. “What about who gave the orders for the crew to stand down last night?”
Aryn cut her a curious glance. “That wasn’t you?”
This close, flecks of gold shone in his hazel eyes. He was youthfully handsome, with rounded, unreadable, yet familiar features. A comforting warmth stirred within her, and she shook her head, taking another spiced sip.
“There was a letter signed by you and Blake, pinned to the wall of the quarters. It had the empire’s seal.”
Kora stiffened. “Do you have this letter?” Only two people on this entire ship had access to the empire’s seal, and they had both been swept away with each other’s bodies last night.
“I can try to find it.” Aryn cautiously peeped at the crew. “But I think it might have been thrown away in the aftermath, when we cleared out the bodies.”
“Well, thank you anyway, Aryn.” Kora passed the stein back, her tone distant and cold, and he nimbly leapt down to the deck, slipping through the crowd to his archers.
Finlay’s flames raged and the air shifted. A weaving, glittering, smoky current, speckled with ash, curled, and circled up towards the looming, black, twinkling sky.
