Page 16 of Daughter of the Dark Sea
The guards hadn’t bothered shackling Jack to the festering, mouldy walls of Hell’s Pit. He laid on his side, knees clasped to his chest, gormlessly staring at the darkness lingering by the side of his cell with red, tired eyes. Kora studied him. Blood stained the back of his torn white shirt, but there wasn’t a single wound on his freckled back.
Koji the healer had been here. A white bandage encased Jack’s right shoulder, which was no longer hanging limp or disconnected from his lean body. A small platter of bread and dried meat, and a fresh cup of water, had been left for him, along with the lingering scent of disinfectant salve.
Jack’s breaths were slow and shallow, his chest barely moving. Gingery strands fell across his face, which he painstakingly brushed away with a bandaged hand. Blood seeped through the gauze, resulting in a dark, red spot on his palm. Thick, sore welts cuffed his wrists, and she crouched by the iron door of his cell. Luckily, it wasn’t the same rancid one from before.
She placed a large lantern at her side, illuminating more of the pit. Deep scratches marred the walls from previous prisoners, along with short, scored lines, recounting their days captured in the dark abyss.
Gently knocking on the bars of the cell, Kora shifted her weight so that she sat with her legs crossed, scratching her waist to relieve an itch. She’d ordered the guard on duty to have a short break; to mingle with the mourning crowd jovially drinking above.
Jack’s silence was deafening in comparison.
“Jack,”
she spoke in hushed tones.
“We need to talk.”
He curled tighter into himself.
“Look . . . it’s obvious you were lying before. You know more than you’re letting on about Galen. We arrive at the fortress tomorrow, and after last night, you’ll most likely be hanged.”
Kora swallowed.
“Speak to me. Tell me what’s going on. I might be able to ensure a better sentence.”
He shuffled an inch further into the darkness.
“Is that what you want? To be hanged? To join Silas in death—”
“Don’t you say his name,”
Jack’s voice strained, as if he’d been screaming until his throat turned raw. Slowly, he unfurled with a venomous gaze.
“You have no right to say his name.”
His eyes were fathomless, and she grimaced at the empty husk of a male before her.
“He attacked Blake and killed Finlay.”
The cold captain surged within, consuming her.
“You escaped these cells, brutally slaughtered my guards, and hatched a plan to steal from the empire. Silas would’ve been dead within minutes once his feet touched Aldarian soil.”
The cup of water fizzed, pockets of air bubbling to the surface, and Kora shifted the lantern away from it, suspecting the heat caused it to boil. Her fingers tingled with rage as the massacre replayed in her mind. Raging brown eyes met her cool, calm stare.
“So you thought you’d give him a mercy killing instead?”
“He murdered my friend. It was justice.”
Jack hysterically laughed.
“Justice? What justice? That wasn’t justice, it was fucking revenge!”
Kora’s blood simmered. There was no wafting breeze down here to cool her temperament, and Hell’s Pit felt as hot as the flames of Finlay’s burning body. Her palms turned clammy as she pushed the thought of Finlay’s lifeless corpse from her mind.
“Justice. For my family . . . for everyone, and everything.”
For everyone she’d lost, and continued to lose to filthy pirates. How dare he insinuate she'd killed him without cause. She’d silenced a murderer, benefitting society with his death.
He frowned. “What—”
“Pirates destroyed my life, and I’ll see to it that every last one of you is hunted down.”
Jack stilled, studying her closely with unnerving familiarity. He lingered on the scar peeking through her short hair, and followed the curve round the sculpted smooth planes of her face. She felt exposed and vulnerable, like a raw nerve.
“Is that what they told you?”
Kora avoided looking at his swollen, bruised cheek. An echo of her scar. She’d battered him. Rubbing her fingers together, she collected her thoughts. Jack was trying to divert her, and make her doubt that the empire had saved her . . . when pirates had branded her with that malicious scar. Pirates had shipwrecked her and killed her family, resulting in a child lost in this confusing, degrading world.
“The empire doesn’t lie.”
But her voice wavered, uncertainty tainted the edges of her fortified mind.
“You don’t remember,”
he observed.
“You blindly believe a tyrant.”
She bristled at the truth, and her mask clung to her pores, sealing off her emotions. The empire wasn’t tyranny. They were unification, prosperity, and innovation.
The noble houses were richer than ever, raking in profit from the fleet’s voyages. Deals with the continent boosted the economy, allowing imported goods to spread across the land. The empire had devised modern waste systems, creating plumbing, clean drinking water, and warm baths.
It wasn’t tyranny, it was the future. Yet . . . the lower districts still suffered. Still participated in the trials as their only path to salvation. Kora stole from plunders, spreading thin layers of wealth like a silver blanket over her crew.
But the empire had saved her life. Erick had saved her life. What was the alternative? Let pirates run amok, brutalising the islands, and pillaging innocent civilians? Anger blazed within her. Once she had eradicated pirates, the islands would settle. Galen was still trapped behind their Mist, and hopefully the pirate lords were trapped in there, too. That was the only way.
“Don’t distract me with putrid lies. You will answer my questions, and I’ll secure a lighter sentence at Stormkeep. It’s more than you bloody deserve.”
Jack hesitated, his gaze snagging on her scar once more. He was inspecting her, like he was searching for something within her face or soul. Slowly, he hung his head in defeat, and Kora quashed the rising feeling of discontent at the broken male.
“What was your plan last night?”
“We were going to escape, to a small port town between Scarlet Bay and Blackstone Reef . . . with the treasure.”
“You knew about the Galenite bribes,”
Kora assumed.
“You pretended to be simple backwards pirates who joined Demon Sea Siren recently.”
“I acted the way you expected of us,”
he shot back.
“We saw the treasure Cannon had amounted. We planned to steal it, but we were interrupted.”
His glare churned her stomach. So much death in a matter of days. It was no use pushing Jack, not when he blamed her for everything. He sipped the water, wincing at the pain of his ruined face. Cold, damp silence wrapped around them, and she waited in the shadows, as the events of Silas’ death haunted him.
“Something was wrong last night. Silas said the plan had changed, and suddenly started killing everyone.”
Jack’s gaze shuttered, as he seemingly stared at nothing.
“I followed him up to the deck, and he was already brawling with that sailor.”
Kora’s chest ached, and her breathing hitched as the sound of Finlay’s neck snapping echoed through her mind.
“I thought, if I got the treasure, he’d stop, and we’d jump ship . . .”
He sucked in a shuddering breath as tears lined his eyes. Jack traced the faded tattoo on his left arm, its vibrancy muted and grey against his skin.
“Tell me how you know Devanian,”
she whispered.
“Are you in favour of the old world?”
He continued to stare into oblivion, repeatedly tracing the tattoo. Precious seconds ticked by, and the shuffling of boots echoed above, followed by the sound of a guard approaching the hatch to the pit. She had to go—soon.
“Do you know anything about magic, or mages?”
she pressed, her hushed whisper straining. Their abnormal strength had made her mind tick. Was it possible that magic was returning? If the pirates could sail into the supposed magical Mist, then was Jack’s claim true?
Or maybe that was a lie too . . . and it was just Mist. Not made by man.
“Are you a mage?”
Her skin crawled, veins bubbling beneath the surface. She needed to know.
“Answer me!”
Silence. The guard’s voice rang from the entrance to the pit.
“Did you send the letter?”
she hissed, frustration pushing her closer to the bars.
Jack furrowed his ginger brows.
“What letter?”
“Did Silas mention anything about forging a letter?”
He tensed at the mention of his twin’s name.
“I don’t know who he was last night,”
Jack whispered to the darkness surrounding them, withdrawing into his inner pit of grief. Ready to await his uncertain fate.
Kora sighed, rubbing the constant dull ache in the side of her head. She got to her feet and stalked to the end of the row of cells, leaving the lantern with Jack.
“We are not your enemy!”
Jack hoarsely called in Devanian.
“Remember what’s real.”
She paused by the ladder to the deck hatch.
“I’m sorry. But I don’t,”
she replied in the ancient tongue.