Page 39 of Scourge of the Shores

The Last Prophecy

The sea lay quiet. Cain was dead. Robert was gone. And she was still on the island three years later—chained to a duty fulfilled, yet with nowhere to go.

Danna sat on the rocky barrier where many had lost their lives in their long fight with Cain.

The morning sun streaked the dark sky with light.

Her gaze focused on the stone pier with the Chadwicks’ spiraled “C” carved into its crown, the morning’s shadows stuck in its grooves, before sweeping across the sea.

The goats’ bleating tickled the air with the sound of lapping water at Danna’s toes.

She stretched her foot as the line of white foam spread like moonflower petals over her skin before the sea reclaimed its beauty.

Three years, and Robert had never returned. She hated not knowing if he would or if he was dead or if he had found someone else or if he had just played her.

She kicked the pebbles and furrowed her brow.

Her heart played a delicate dance between grief and relief, as well as the courage to move beyond Robert “The Ruthless” Jaymes.

He told her he couldn’t stay, and she told him she couldn’t leave.

But she let him kiss her, and with that kiss, she didn’t want any other, even three years later.

She glanced behind her at the early risers, trading places with the night watch crew.

They didn’t have much to watch for these days: a passing ship here and there and the occasional trade ships from the neighboring islands.

But the villagers loved their lives; they were easy and filled with joy.

It brought a smile to her lips, but not to her eyes.

When she saw a ship on the horizon in the first year, her heart would spring for joy but plummet every time another man or woman walked ashore. Her heart grew numb by the second, and she refused to give it hope by the third.

Her face had turned expressionless, as had her duty as the island leader and the descendant of Chadwick. When she found herself alone on the Northern Boulder, she allowed her heart to ache for the sea—ache for Robert. Otherwise, she tried not to feel.

At least Ma had begun to live again. Without Cain to tear everything apart, Danna and a few of the islanders had rigged up a gliding chair from their hut to the outside. Ma enjoyed the fresh air a few times a week; her smile was the only thing that warmed Danna’s heart.

Lucas sat down beside her, facing the village. His shoulders slumped. "Every mornin’, I find ye here," he said, layin’ a rough hand over hers. "Used to find ye atop the Northern Boulder when ye were but a wee lass—starin’ out at sea."

She didn’t look at him, eyes locked on the endless blue.

“The DeepMother calls me, Lucas,” she whispered. “It’s a blessin’ . . . and a curse.”

Her voice cracked like old wood.

"I pushed it aside—for our village, for revenge against Cain for what he did to Ma." Her hand balled into a fist beneath his. "But now Cain’s rot, and all that’s left’s an empty hole where the rage once burned."

She cast him a sideways glance.

"Thank ye, Lucas, for preparin’ me for me place on this isle. But”—her gaze drifted to the sea, distant, hollow—“I feel like me part’s been played."

Her voice softened as memories tugged at her mind.

"They’re at peace now.” She nodded toward the village behind them. “Livin’ their lives. Raisin’ babes." She paused, thinkin’ of Lucas’s newborn son with Isabelle—the widow with two children.

But she pushed the thought aside.

"They’re buildin’ new homes, craftin’ strange contraptions, dancin’, singin’. No fear hangs over ‘em.”

A long sigh escaped her lips, heavy as an anchor.

"But me? I feel like I don’t belong. Like I’m a shadow where there’s only sunlight now. They look at me—like I’m a reminder of what they lost. Their loved ones’ blood stains me hands, Lucas, and I can’t give back what was taken."

Lucas squeezed her hand. “Ye healed our island,” he finally said. “They honor ye.” He leaned in and pressed his forehead on her shoulder. “I honor ye as me daughter and as the leader of our people. Ye saved us from Cain, and ye saved us from pirates.”

“Robert did,” Danna said with slumped shoulders.

“No,” Lucas shook his head, catching her gaze with eyes alight.

“He helped, sure. But even if he’d never set foot on these shores, ye’d have bested Cain—one way or ‘nother. I raised ye with determination in yer bones. Grit in yer heart. Hope in yer soul.” He patted her hand, then pressed her temple to his lips, rough and tender all at once.

“I don’t wanna be alone, Lucas,” she said with a break in her voice. “And I realized I don’t wanna stay here, but I can’t leave Ma.”

“I’ll tend to yer Ma,” Lucas said. “She’s on the mend, slow and sure. She’ll find herself again, ye’ll see. And she’d want ye to find peace too, Danna. The sea still calls ye. The prophecy? Maybe it was all just ramblin’.”

The breeze whistled in the succeeding silence as if it agreed.

Lucas took a deep breath; a smile tugged on the corners of his lips.

“There be some here who’ve lost everythin’—no kin, no reason to stay.

Take yer family ship, lass. Find yer way and set a course for the world.

The North Sea’s vast, aye, but ye’ve got sirens singin’ death in the West, Krakens stirrin’ the deep in the South, enchanters weavin’ their tricks in the East… and gods lurkin’ all around.”

His lips spread thin, revealing the happiest smile she’d ever seen on him. “Just don’t go gettin’ yerself killed, eh?”

Danna swallowed hard, the weight of his words sitting deep in her chest. Her gaze drifted to the sea before she shook her head.

“It ain’t the same, Lucas. Ma’ll die. She’ll wither if I’m not here. She only clings to life ‘cause of that prophecy yer enchanter friend gave ye—the one sayin’ some ‘worthy man’ would come from the seas for me.”

A bitter chuckle escaped.

“I think she only holds on hopin’ to see me happy and safe. But she never wanted this place, never wanted any of it. Cain took her limbs and what was left of her spirit.”

Danna let out a laugh filled with irony. “And so the circle spins again. Back to Cain. Always back to the cursed beast.” She leaned forward and ran a fist through the water and let its cold chill bite her face.

Lucas shifted beside her, turning to face the endless blue. With a sigh, he draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against his chest.

“I’m sorry, Danna.” His voice wavered. “I pushed ye too young. Fool that I was, I believed that enchanter’s words.” He dragged a hand down his face, rough with regret.

“Before Cain came, for three good years, all ye talked about was the sea—yer grandpappy Chadwick’s ship—how ye’d be the finest Captain the world had ever known.

Used to run ‘round with that play sword—” He chuckled, the sound laced with old warmth.

“That ol’ branch ye swore was a cutlass.

Thought ye were the Queen of the Seas—a Sea Queen. ”

His head dipped, eyes lost in distant memories.

"Aye . . . I’d forgotten,” he whispered.

Danna shook her head, brows furrowed.

"Don’t recall ever doin’ such foolery."

Lucas let out a low laugh, though sadness still clung to it.

"That’s ‘cause I never let ye be a child after Cain showed his cursed face. I saw what ye could be—a leader, fierce and true. I pushed ye hard, aye. Too hard. Jaymes made ye smile again, and I . . . I dragged ye back here. Maybe that enchanter was just spinnin’ tales, and I was too blind to see it.

Maybe . . . there ain’t no man from the seas. "

Danna wiped her face.

"Like I said, I can’t leave Ma—not like this. Even in yer care, I’d carry the regret like an anchor.” She half-lied to stop Lucas from convincing her to leave Ma. “Truth be told, the sea calls to me . . . but through a dark abyss. The open waters, no land in sight . . . it chills me bones."

Lucas gave her a gentle squeeze before letting her go. His voice dropped, softer now.

"Just remember this, me girl—all ye ever dreamed lies just beyond the threshold of what ye fear. Think on takin’ that ship. Think on leavin’ this place. My offer stands—I’ll care for yer Ma, all her days."

He pressed a fatherly kiss to her temple, then stepped away, leaving her perched atop the rock barrier, staring at the restless sea beyond the bay.

Danna’s fingers curled against the stone.

"Just beyond the threshold of what I fear," she whispered to the wind, then scoffed, the words bitter on her tongue.

The fresh sea breeze filled her lungs. The day started, but there wasn’t any rush, not anymore. She lazily dipped her toe in and out of the small, crested lapping waves. She glanced at the horizon, and a black line appeared. She squinted.

“What’s that?” she muttered. Her heart began to race. The black lines became black spots until they became outlines of black pirate sails billowing in the winds. Lots of them, coming too fast. Were they on a current or sent by the gods? How could they be coming so fast?

She spun around and stuffed her feet into her boots while shouting orders. “Get to the watches!” she yelled. “Hide the children. Get the goats inland. Load the guns!”

Lucas, with his arm around Isabelle, turned to see before he repeated her commands in a harried response. He pushed Isabelle toward the hiding places and came out of his hut with a long musket and his three flintlocks on his belt.

“Line the shore.” He directed the first watch. “Hold yer position,” he ordered the second watch, hunkered down waiting to ambush.

Danna sprinted to her hut and grabbed her weapons. Ma shuffled in the bed. “What is it? What’s going on?”

“Don’t know, Ma. Something’s headed straight for us.” But her mind focused on Rosa. He had wanted the island’s treasure. He had sunk Lucas’s ship. If Rosa was coming, then it meant Robert was dead. She pushed that thought away, unable to bear it.