Page 9 of Escaping Pirates (Legends of Neverland #4)

H unger became my closest companion over the following weeks as I slaved away for Sugar and Blossom.

The dress I’d worn on the day I’d been captured had become threadbare and the formerly vibrant blue color faded to a dull gray.

On days when the sisters were feeling generous, I read to them or helped them try on a dozen different outfits.

They would ask for feedback on how each looked, and the one time I tried to give constructive criticism on a style that would look better on Sugar than what she had picked out, she took great offense and ordered me to get on my hands and knees for the rest of the day, scrubbing with a lye soap that made my hands smart and ache.

If I ever protested or inadvertently offended the girls, I found myself back in the brig, where my hands were again lashed together overhead with the rough cording I loathed so much.

I counted to pass the time during those punishments, anything to distract me from the agony in my arms and wrists.

At first, I counted the number of bars on the cell, followed by the number of steps up to the main deck, the number of boards on the floor, and the number of rats that scurried by.

When I had done all those, I began counting the number of times I heard Sugar or Blossom shriek, “ Daddy! ”

In many ways, I thought bemusedly, Captain Harsh was the most patient man I’d ever met.

Anyone who could listen to that all day and not lose their mind could equal the tolerance of the monks who spent their lives meditating in mountain monasteries.

I shivered, instantly regretting the action as the ropes grated against my raw wrists.

The brig door banged open, and one of the pirate crew came to unlock my cell and untie the ropes. “Come on,” he grumbled. I didn’t even know his name; I spent all my time either with the two sisters or else locked up. “It’s tea time.”

I’d never appreciated afternoon tea as much as I did when it released me from whatever horrible task Sugar and Blossom had assigned me. No matter how much they relished seeing me struggle, nothing would ever make them miss afternoon tea.

“I want some rose tea today,” Sugar announced the moment she saw me. “With those cookies.”

“I want peppermint tea,” Blossom said, watching me through slitted eyes. “What’s wrong with your mouth?”

“My mouth?” Gently, I placed a hand up and stroked my gums, which had become increasingly sensitive in the last week. When I pulled my fingertips away, I was horrified to see a bright red stain.

“Scurvy!” shrieked Sugar. “Ella has scurvy!”

“I told you she wasn’t hygienic,” Blossom sneered. “Do you think she even brushes her teeth?”

Sugar tittered. “She can’t now or her teeth will fall out. We should call her scurvy girl. ”

“Or Scurvyella!” Blossom proposed. “Let’s call her Scurvyella!”

“Yes!” Sugar squealed. “Scurvyella, get us our tea!”

“But wash your hands first!” Blossom ordered. “I don’t want blood tea.”

In a numb trance, I scrubbed my hands and prepared their afternoon tea, my mind reeling from the realization of my condition.

I’d heard of scurvy before, but as I had never expected to be aboard a ship for any extended period of time, hadn’t paid much attention to the treatment.

How I wished I could go back and redo my education.

If I could, I would hang onto every word.

Blossom and Sugar had continued chattering. “Did you hear what Daddy was telling the crew about the krakens yesterday?” Blossom was asking Sugar when I brought the tray over.

“No, what?” Sugar clutched at her pillow.

“He said that there have been more kraken sightings recently. Can you imagine if they attacked us?”

“No,” Sugar breathed. “What do you think, Scurvyella ?”

Weighing each word carefully to make sure I didn’t offend either of them, I answered, “I thought that siren hunter Treva killed the kraken. She lives in Haven Harbor, too. I’ve seen her a few times.”

“Yes, but big krakens can have baby krakens,” Sugar explained as if I were three years old. “And now the baby krakens are growing up and getting bigger.”

Blossom smoothed her skirts. “Word is that part of the siren’s treaty with the humans is that the sirens are supposed to hunt down the other krakens before they grow big enough to sink ships.”

“Do you think a kraken would attack us?” Sugar asked her sister, eyes wide. “What would happen? ”

“If it’s little, probably nothing. I think they are like little friendly menaces.”

I let out a soft breath of laughter as I refilled their cups. “That’s quite an oxymoron, isn’t it?”

Blossom flushed bright red. “How dare you!” she shrieked.

“What?”

“I’m not an ox or a moron! Daddy!”

“No! No, that’s not what I…”

Too late.

Captain Harsh flung the door open.

“No, please,” I begged, my wrists already screaming in pain from what they knew was coming. I’d barely been released; I couldn’t go back.

“I’ve really had it with you,” he snarled. “All I want is a few minutes of peace, and you can’t resist teasing my girls, can you?”

“I wasn’t…”

“I have quite enough to deal with! There’s an enemy ship within sight and I have to deal with this? Back to the brig.”

“No,” I whimpered, hating how broken I felt. “I’ll be quiet. I won’t say anything.”

Sugar swirled her tea with her spoon, holding her pinkie up as she did so. “Hold on, Daddy, how long until the other ship is within firing range?”

“An hour at most.”

“I can put up with her for another hour.”

“Well, I can’t,” Blossom said with a pout. “She called me an ox and a moron.”

“I didn’t.” I shook my head from side to side.

“And now she’s lying!”

“It’s the brig for you,” Harsh said, gripping my upper arm and pulling me away. “I don’t have time for this nonsense. I have a little task I need to tend to with this ship.”

Goosebumps popped up all over my arms, not only from the cold in the brig where I was tied up, but from the screams originating from the other ship as Harsh’s crew attacked them.

This was his little task ? Murder? Closing my eyes only sharpened the scenes my mind conjured up, fabricating stories about the backstory of each sailor who would go to his watery grave soon, and humming did little to distract from the noises above the brig.

Steady drips splattered the damp, slippery floor, and I heard the squeaking of rats as they scurried from barrel to barrel to hide from the lantern’s glow.

The pungent reek of rotting fish hid the typical smell of cheap alcohol that hovered around the crew, but it wasn’t any improvement.

My raw wrists were tied together and aloft once more, and nothing could distract me from the pain.

Sores had grown on my hands and arms, and the rough fibers of the rope cut into my skin every time I moved.

How long had I been here? They had never left me this long before, but then again, I had never received this punishment right before a battle at sea.

If only I had a way, any way, to rest my body.

There wasn’t a muscle I had that wasn’t aching somehow.

Fatigue and malnutrition had worn away my rebellion just as easily as these ropes had scratched away at my skin until droplets of blood dribbled down my arms. My vision blurred from how light-headed I had become, and any time I came close to passing out, my weight would pull against the ropes until the pain brought me back to consciousness.

As the sun began to sink, the sounds of battle gradually diminished or else my hearing was going the same way as my vision.

Above the relentless slapping of the waves, I heard a sharp squeal of “Oooh, Daddy! I want—” and blocked out the rest. If I never had to hear Sugar’s or Blossom’s voice again, I would die a happy woman.

I pressed my forehead against the metal bars and tried counting to distract myself from the pain in my arms and the aching in my feet.

“No, I refuse!” The thundering shouts of an unfamiliar male voice echoed down to me. “Get off me!”

Even though my heart ached for whichever new victim Captain Harsh had selected to single out, an overwhelming numbness had dulled my empathy levels. Would I ever feel anything besides fatigue, hunger, and pain?

The door to the brig slammed open with such force that it bounced back off the wall.

A young man in his early- to mid-twenties, fighting tooth and nail to escape, was escorted to the brig by four burly pirates.

I stared. Captain Harsh didn’t often take prisoners.

I hadn’t seen any others, nor had Blossom or Sugar ever mentioned any.

This man was dressed in the same type of sailor’s clothing that my father’s crew had worn and was very handsome, with blond hair, a strong jaw, and broad shoulders.

I intended to offer a small, consolatory smile and lift my fingers by wave of greeting, but he didn’t look my way, and the ropes scratching at my wrists prevented me adjusting my hand’s position, anyway.

I likely lacked the energy to do anything beyond exist, second by second.

When was the last time I’d eaten anything? One day? Two? My head spun and my thoughts grew fuzzy. How I longed to simply sleep uninterrupted or have a meal that consisted of something other than hardtack and the occasional strip of dried fish.

The cell door next to mine clanged shut, and the prisoner clutched at the bars. “You can’t do this!”

“Think about the offer,” Gavvet growled at the new prisoner. “The captain isn’t a patient man, and he’s generous to grant you the opportunity to live at all.”

The pirates trooped out, leaving me alone with the newcomer, who aimed a ferocious kick at the bars on his cell, then slammed the heel of his hand repeatedly against the ship’s hull. With a wordless shout of fury, he slumped down to the moldy floor and drew several ragged breaths.

Was he crying? I couldn’t tell in the dim light, and the raucous cheers from the pirates overhead drowned out any noise the man might’ve made.