Page 13 of Bloody Black

“ T here now, easy does it.” Holly soothes as I lean over the railing, vomiting my guts out for the fifth time this morning. “I’ve brought you a cup of tea.”

“Why are you mothering me,” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, green-faced. “When you don’t even know me?”

She levels her gaze at me. “Drink up. Tea helps the unsettled stomach.”

But not the heart. Indeed, I’d barely had time to think about the betrayal, or what it meant to me.

Nor had I had time to process the questionable state of my body.

Alive but also dead, I still couldn’t quite believe that Rokhur had saved me.

There were small tells that things were amiss.

Cold skin, lack of appetite. Superficially at least, I look like me. But inside…

I take the cup from Holly’s hands and swallow it all in one gulp. It’s lukewarm, with no sugar. No milk. Disgustingly bitter .

The cup itself is made of tin, banged around.

Probably unwashed. In many ways, it’s representative of the predicament I find myself in.

My new life, where I have nothing. No money, no title, no family.

It’s depressing how far I’ve fallen. How deeply I am damaged.

Betrayed and discarded, by the man who promised me everything.

Shoving these thoughts away, I scan the ship.

Up in the rigging, the two witches watch over us.

Prudence and Mercy. As far as I can tell, they are nothing alike.

Prudence is hardened, sharp-eyed and succinct.

Mercy is quiet, stammers when she speaks.

Which isn’t often. The entire ordeal of being taken, repeatedly raped, and held captive fundamentally broke her magic, and saying as little as possible seems to be one of her ways of coping.

“We’re free, ” Holly says to Teach. “Can you believe it?”

“We’re free, but we don’t know where we’re going,” Teach attempts to tie a square knot again. He has bathed and trimmed his hair. He’s still bearded, but now that he’s clothed and freshened up, he’s noticeably more handsome.

Xandretta grips the spokes of the helm in her hands, calm and competent.

“How will we know if there’s a reef?” I ask her.

“That’ll be obvious. We’ll crash into something.” Xandretta clicks her tongue at me, a metallic, inhuman sound.

Bloody know it all. Although, at least the djinn seems to know what she’s doing.

That is, after all, what she is. A djinn. Teach told me, when I couldn’t stop staring. The only reason she didn’t wish herself out of there, apparently, was because djinn have a limited number of them. Wishes, that is. And Xandretta only has one left.

Terribly unlucky, he said. So she was captive, unless she wanted to die, and the men kept her, hoping they could convince her to give up her last wish to them, which she wouldn’t. That’s why they’d tortured her so mercilessly.

Rokhur sidles up to me. She casts an eye over the crew. “They aren’t whole. Not hardened. Inexperienced misfits at best. We’re adrift with no direction.”

Holly smooths her shirt, a motherly gesture. She smiles like it might keep the whole ship afloat. “We’ll sail north. We’ll find our way. There are fishing poles in the hold. Twelve of them. So we can catch our dinner, at least.”

Prudence throws us a salty look. “If anyone knows how.”

Thank the gods, Samson nods, then Domino and Teach. Three people know how to fish. That should keep us from starving.

A swell hits us, and the ship tilts. Up, up, up, and then slamming down the waves. I grip the rail, turning green all over again.

“First time on a boat?” Teach asks gently.

“How’d you know?” I grip the helm, but as I do, I wince. My palms are raw from holding the ship wheel— it’s heavy, and I’m constantly battling the tide.

My skin is so sunburned that it hurts to blink. “We have to find a port, so I can find some face cream.”

“Spoken like a true princess.” Rokhur scoffs.

The others turn to stare at me.

“What?” I say defensively. My face hurts. My hands hurt. I’m not made for this. I don’t know how to sail; I’ve never even been on a boat. Celestia is an ice kingdom, and it’s so hot outside that I can barely function.

“Land!! Land ho!” Domino points past us. “See?”

For a moment I think I’m just imagining, but there, in the distance… a jagged low ridge. A mountain range.

“Careful!” shouts Prudence, leaning over the crow’s nest with Mercy. “Steady!”

Samson, purple and spiked and absolutely massive, yanks on one of the ropes with one hand, hoisting the main sail into place. He wraps, then knots the rope through one of the iron loops nailed into the floor. The rope creaks as the wind fills the sail overhead.

“Simple enough,” he says with a wide smile. He’s trying to sound optimistic, no man would sweat so profusely if they weren’t nervous.

Thankful for the interruption, and relieved that we may yet survive our time at sea, I watch as the strip of land comes into view, as we creep closer to our salvation.

But there is no pier. No people. There aren’t even trees. The entire mass appears desolate and abandoned, and it’s barely wider than a sandbar.

We’re headed straight for it.

Domino leans forward, alarm sharpening her voice. “Can you not turn the wheel?”

“I’m trying.” Xandretta’s reply is clipped. Her muscles strain. “It’s hard over.”

“That’s not good enough.” Prudence climbs down from the mast, hand over hand, as the bow lurches .

A silence falls, and we hear a loud, grinding sound. The entire ship shudders, throwing several of us off our feet as The Flying Rose slides across the shallow shorebed.

I hit the deck hard, elbow cracking against the wood. A crate of salted fish slides loose and crashes open against the rail. The sails snap like whips as the wind jerks them sideways.

“Oh gods! We’ve run aground!” That’s Holly. She’s pacing, full of anxiety.

The Flying Rose is stuck, immovable.

“We might as well be welded to the reef,” Xandretta grumbles.

“We’ll just have to find a way to get free,” I reply.

“If we all push from this side—” Domino begins.

“That’s not how boats work.” One of these idiots is going to get killed.

“You could tie this rope around your waist and pull it. Like a mule.” Prudence holds out the rope to Samson.

“He who tames the wind may one day tame his fate,” Samson says, winding the rope around his forearm.

Xandretta seems bored by it all. “If we can’t free the ship in the next hour, the tide’ll pull it sideways and split the keel.”

Oh. Good. Lovely. I don’t even know what that means. Or what a keel is.

“What are your orders, Captain?” Domino asks.

I stare down at the waves lapping against the hull, and I don’t answer, mostly because I assume she’s speaking to someone else.

Teach clears his throat. “Captain Blackbeard.”

They’re all looking at me now.

“Um, who? Me?”

“What do you want us to do, Princess? Dig it out with our bare hands?” Teach jokes.

Now there’s a novel idea. Could we do that? It seems preposterous.

Domino leans against the railing, studying Prudence. “You’re a witch. Just wave your hands. Do some magic.”

Prudence raises an eyebrow. “If only it was as easy as all that.”

“It is easy—”

“Can you two please stop bickering?” I snap. “This is getting us nowhere.”

“If the tide turns in our favor, we may float free on the next swell.” Xandretta points out. “You should conserve your energy for when we actually need it.”

She’s right. We could wait. But that might take hours, and then we might still be stranded here. I study the sea below us again. It’s pale green, very shallow. “The sand looks soft. Some of us could attempt to dig free.”

I glance up at the group. “The rest of you could remain aboard. Throw out anything heavy.”

“You agree with me?” Domino is surprised.

I shrug. “If we lighten the ship, it may sit higher in the waves. And if we dig…”

“Exactly!” The Earth Fae nods approvingly, for once not joking.

Prudence kicks off her boots with a dramatic sigh, and heads toward the ladder. “This isn’t going to work.”

“But you’re coming.” Domino gives her a winning smile .

“Eh. If you’re going to dig a hole in a sandbar, I’d like to see you try.” She flips her dark hair and begins climbing down a frayed ladder. “Watch your step, Princess. The rope is slippery.”

Swallowing audibly, I follow.

Despite the sweltering heat, the ocean is colder than I expected, the kind that numbs your toes and makes your teeth chatter. So cold, I can feel the fabric of my jacket shrinking.

Prudence, Domino, Xandretta and I begin digging. Sand, soft and white, easily sifts through my fingers. Every handful, more falls into its place, though, and it feels as if we’re making no progress.

“This is stupid,” Prudence mutters. “We can’t dig out a ship from a reef with our bare hands.”

Silently, I agree, yet I don’t see what choice we have.

As I dig, my mind drifts. To Roger. To Soren.

To Baldric. To the knife I mean to slide between their ribs.

To the crown I intend to take back. One day ago, I was putting on my wedding dress.

A virgin. I had yet to be murdered and make a bargain with a demon.

Now I’m digging out an ancient boat, stuck on the sandbar of a deserted island.

Funny, how much worse life can be in just twenty four hours.

Overhead, the others search the ship for anything that can be thrown overboard.

A few minutes later, there’s a series of heavy splashes, loud thuds as they toss things into the sea. Barrels bob, and then are swept away by the ocean. A chair floats by on the waves. Then a mass of potatoes, bobbing like little bald heads .

“Are they throwing out our food?” I ask, incredulous.

“Of course not.” Domino hesitates. “Probably not.”

Unexpectedly, the boat shifts. There’s a low grinding sound as its hull scrapes against the bottom of the sea. At first, it’s a whisper of motion, then a sliding.

The Flying Rose is free. We stand shoulder to shoulder, watching it drift. Victory.

“Looks pretty. From here you can’t even tell that the hold is full of mice.” Prudence wipes the sweat from her brow.

“We should get a cat.” Domino huffs. “Once we’re in port again. A mouser. A lean, mean tabby.”

“Ahoy, ladies! What are you doing?” Holly calls from up on the deck.

“Saving your asses! You’re welcome!” Prudence yells back.

The redhead scowls. “We’re sailing away!”

“We know!” Domino laughs. “We can see that.”

“We’re sailing away without you!”

Oh. Oh, well… There’s a moment of stunned silence as we all come to the same conclusion.

For one awful second, I imagine the ship shrinking on the horizon while we stand here, thigh-deep in seawater, watching our only hope disappear. Would they turn back? Or would they give up and decide the price of rescue is too high?

“Swim! Swim or die!” Prudence dives in and starts doing the breaststroke.

“I can’t! I don’t know how!” shouts Domino, stumbling after.

Waves slap at my legs as I run, and the sand is deep, nearly toppling me. The water isn’t even waist high, but The Flying Rose is quickly leaving us behind. Once it drifts far enough, if it truly heads out to sea, we’ll all drown. Or be stuck here permanently.

Xandretta doesn’t even splash—she glides with a flash of webbing between her fingers, a glint of scarred black skin.

Teach leans over the railing and shouts at us. Maybe it’s encouragement, maybe it’s a warning… I can’t really hear him. But I’m suddenly thankful for all of Ben’s pressuring and early morning workouts, because it’s clear I’m more fit than any of them.

I quickly pass Prudence, and despite the tugging of the waves, easily reach the boat’s side. A rope ladder slaps wetly against the side of the ship, old and frayed, its rungs half rotten. I grab it, slipping once, seawater blinding me as I grit my teeth and haul myself up.

Xandretta crawls up the hull like a crab, dragging Domino behind. With her pale hair plastered around her face, she looks more like a drowned rag than Fae.

Half way up the ladder, Prudence is swearing. Her biceps shaking, she can’t quite manage the climb.

I stretch over the edge, reaching down. “Come on! Grab my hand!”

After a beat of hesitation, Prudence clasps it, and I pull her up over the edge. She and I collapse onto the deck, both panting.

“Let’s never do that again.” Domino’s white shirt is so wet it’s practically clear, revealing her nipples underneath.

Teach turns away, shoulders stiff. “I’ll, uh… check the rigging,” he mutters, darting off like he’s been accused of lechery .

“You’ve already seen me naked!” Domino calls after him. “He’s seen everything,” she mutters to us. “Including men raping me. You’d think he wouldn’t be so scandalized.”

“Perhaps seeing you with clothes makes him treat you differently.” Xandretta says, watching Teach vanish up the rigging. “Less like an object.”

“We need dry clothes,” Prudence sighs, looking up at the sun.

“I’d rather have dry land,” Domino replies. “I hate the ocean. And boats. And swimming.”

I stretch and put my back against the railing. “Does anyone know what they threw overboard?”

“A bunch of those barrels.” Domino shrugs. “Makes sense. We’re surrounded by it.”

“You mean the barrels full of drinking water?” Xandretta asks wryly.

I scratch my head; Samson skulks by, looking ashamed. Avoiding eye contact.

“We had to do what was necessary.” Holly puts her hands on her hips. “Throwing heavy items overboard, which they were. We were only following orders.”

Too exhausted to argue, I close my eyes and lie down on the deck, covering my face with both hands.

The sun overhead is baking me, blindingly hot.

I wish for my lotions, for my pretty blue parasol.

Of course, my skin is actually the least of my worries.

No one knows how to sail, and no one knows how to steer.

So not only do we have no idea which way we’re going, we’re also without so much as a teaspoon of water to sip.