Page 28 of The Sea Witch (Salt & Sorcery #1)

“You are white as paper,” Stasia said in a low whisper.

She trotted to keep up with Alys, who had again taken the lead. Ben was just behind them, with Susannah keeping a close eye

in the back, in case anything decided to attack from the rear. Though the creatures that inhabited this island had been peaceful

so far, at any moment they might see Alys and the others as a threat.

“I like to think of my complexion as pearly .” Alys slashed through the dense underbrush, using more force than her body had to give. It had been taxing enough to create

the vine bridge with the help of Stasia and Susannah, but to create the cage and hold the end of the bridge on her own had

completely drained her.

“You need rest,” Stasia insisted.

“On the ship. For now, we keep going.”

Stasia grumbled in Greek as she fell back. She took up her position behind Ben, shooting him a wary glance.

Alys marched ahead, following the sound of the water’s voice. It was a welcome distraction from her own thoughts. She’d acted

without thought to save Ben. The moment she’d seen the bridge give way, she’d rushed to help him. Now she paid the price.

Her legs were weak beneath her, and her arm ached as she cut through foliage and vines, and she needed to sit a minute to

catch her breath.

But she couldn’t let him see how little she’d mastered her magic. She had to keep going, presenting the face of an intrepid and tireless captain.

If he felt it, he didn’t say. At least he had some sense of caution. Or self-preservation.

“Cap’n.” Susannah appeared beside her and pressed something into her hand.

They paused long enough for Alys to examine what Susannah had given her. It was salt beef, as well as one of the small sugary

cakes that Josephine occasionally gave the crew as a treat.

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“For a year, I’ve been sailing with you,” Susannah whispered as they resumed marching, “and back home, we learned the measure

of our magic together. Including what we need when we’ve pushed ourselves too much. Since I can’t give you a cuddle right

now,” she added with a smile, “a bit of food and sugar will serve.”

Alys nodded her thanks as she took a bite of the salt beef. It was tough and briny, but exactly what her depleted body required.

“You and Stasia need it, too. And give some to him as well.”

“He didn’t use any magic,” Susannah noted.

“He’s human, and humans need sustenance.”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

Everyone kept walking as Susannah handed out rations. All conversation ceased as the simple meal was consumed. It was a far

cry from the fresh, hot food Josephine provided for the company when aboard the ship. Damn if Alys didn’t crave a bowl of

her peppered mutton stew.

Ben meditatively chewed on the strip of meat Susannah had given him, yet his gaze was alert and attentive to his surroundings, ready in case a new threat emerged.

His beard was nearly grown in now, making the blue of his eyes all the more crystalline, and his dark hair was loose about his shoulders.

The crispness of his clothing was nearly gone.

He reached up to slacken his neckcloth, revealing his throat, and there was a sheen of sweat in the hollow just at the base.

“Something’s amiss?” he demanded, catching her looking at him.

“Haven’t I seen you at the Wig and Merkin, drinking ale with Rodrigo Flores?”

He scowled and straightened his waistcoat. Why stroke his ego by telling him that it pleased her to see him like this, rough

and disheveled? He’d been attractive as a neat, spruce naval navigator, but now he was rugged, verging on wild.

Alys took a large bite of sugared cake, sating one hunger for another.

He sucked in a breath, and stared at her. Her cheeks warmed even more. Hellfire .

She tipped up her chin in defiance. So, she had begun to find him attractive—it didn’t matter. All animals had the urge to

mate. But there was a difference between her and a feral beast. She had control over herself.

His throat worked as he swallowed tightly.

She held up a hand, and everyone stood still.

“I hear it, too,” Ben said.

“Water over stone,” Susannah added.

Following the sound, everyone pressed forward, until they came to a shallow creek. It tumbled across wide smooth rocks, its

banks narrow and pebbled.

“Small for a waterfall,” Stasia noted.

“Its source might be what we’re seeking,” Alys mused.

“We can go upstream.” Ben nodded toward the volcanic peak, still rising above them. “Likely, there’s a waterfall coming off

that mountain.”

There were nods all around, and they trekked along the creek’s rocky bank. They hadn’t gone far before everyone came to a

halt to behold a fresh spring bubbling up from the rocks. The voices Alys had conjured quieted.

“We have our source.” Alys planted her hands on her hips. “Nothing more.”

“Back the way we came,” Ben said decisively.

Stasia growled, “I think you are enjoying yourself, navy man.”

“We’re all eager to find Little George’s fail-safe,” he answered. “And tramping around a rugged island jungle has far more merits than

sitting idly on my ar—er, behind.”

“Call an arse an arse,” Alys said. “I’d hate to think of yours doing nothing all day but looking pretty.”

He blinked. “That might be the first time anyone’s called my buttocks pretty .”

“You haven’t been keeping the right company,” she replied.

“Shall we go ?” snapped Stasia.

Turning, they went back the way they’d come, following the creek as it wended its way down the mountain. It widened and roughened,

until it turned from a gentle stream into a broad, surging river. The sound beat against their ears after the quiet of the

jungle.

Then, suddenly, the river dropped off into nothingness, the open sky spreading beyond it. There was a loud booming noise.

Alys edged her way forward until she reached the lip of a precipice. The river spilled over the edge, becoming a huge roaring

waterfall. Sheets of white foam rushed downward with monstrous force. Just as she’d seen it in Ben’s dream.

The toe of her boot dislodged a stone and it went tumbling downward. She followed its trajectory as it spun through the air,

until she could no longer see it. Likely, it was lost somewhere in the churning spray far, far below.

“Behold, the Weeping Princess,” she said over her shoulder.

Ben, Stasia, and Susannah all cautiously approached and peered over the edge, and Stasia swore in Greek.

It was easily two hundred feet down to the base of the waterfall, which plunged along a sheer rocky cliff.

Large boulders were strewn at the base. At one point in the past, part of the mountain slope had broken free, exposing countless rocks to crash to the ground below, where water now churned and foamed.

“We’ve a climb ahead of us,” Ben said gravely. “I’ll take the lead down.”

“The hell you will,” Alys countered.

He rolled his eyes. “Only a madman would use a massive, sheer drop as a means of escaping. Besides,” he added before she could

object, “this island isn’t known to anyone, and marooning myself here without a knife or firearm is a certain way to die slowly.”

She regarded him suspiciously.

“And,” he went on, “if I’m in the lead and you fall, I can catch you.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “Strong you may be, but if I’m falling, you aren’t going to pluck me out of the air and

cradle me to your manly bosom. I’m going first. However,” she added, stroking her chin as a thought leapt into her mind, “we don’t have to climb.”

“There’s no other way down,” Ben said.

“For some people,” Alys countered. “We aren’t some people.”

Susannah held up a hand and it was wreathed with warm gold light.

Ben said, dryly, “Not all of us. Climbing’s my only option.”

And have him possibly slip and fall an even greater distance than back at the ravine?

“I’ve enough magic for the both of us,” Alys said. When he only sent her a doubting look, she added, “We’ll go down together.

If you fall, so do I. My neck’s too pretty to snap.”

Hopefully, her words held more faith than she felt. Though over the past year she had been working more on understanding her

magic, never before had she tried to use it in this way. She’d conjured the wind to help her fly from St. Gertrude, but she

had only needed to make herself soar. Ben was not only another person, he was a tall man with muscle.

He also wouldn’t simply wait for them at the top of the waterfall, and he’d stubbornly insisted on climbing, leaving her with only one option.

Turning to Stasia and Susannah, she said, “I’ve done this before. We summon winds to hold us as we go down. Can you do that?”

Susannah nodded readily. “On moonless midnights, I’d practice off the roof of the granary. It was a wonder, tasting that kind

of freedom. I never wanted to come back down to land. My home was with the gulls and cormorants.”

Stasia, however, grimaced. “Such a skill is new to me, and I dare not attempt it here.”

“Susannah,” Alys directed, “you’ll take Stasia with you, and I’ll manage the sailing master.”

Ben and Stasia exchanged a look—the first time they had ever been in solidarity together.

“Trust me,” Alys said, “and trust Susannah.”

She held out her hand to Ben. He stared at it for a long moment.

“There’s no poison in my flesh,” she said wryly.

Slowly, he threaded his fingers with hers, and his palm slid against hers. His hand was large, nearly engulfing her own, and

the heat and callused texture of his skin rubbed against her flesh, equally rough from labor.

Yet there were parts of her hand more delicate than she expected, to be able to feel him against her skin with such sensitivity.

She sucked in a breath. So did he.

They both stared down at where they were joined. Golden magical light sprang to life around her hand, and it coursed up her

arm... and his.

His jaw tightened, yet he didn’t pull away. If anything, he gripped her hand tighter. A faint hint of his interest and curiosity

danced.