Page 29 of The Sea Witch (Salt & Sorcery #1)

By silent agreement, together they stepped to the edge of the precipice. Her heart beat in her throat. Mixing fear and excitement strengthened her magic.

She looked out over the green valley that spread before her. Farther beyond was the azure sea stretching toward the equally

blue sky. Drawing in a deep breath, she reached out to the winds that were ever present in the Caribbean. She drew them toward

her, calling upon them the way one would call to old friends. And they were her friends... They filled the sails of her

ship so she and her crew could traverse the waters, doing the work and living the lives they were meant to.

Come to me , she silently beckoned.

She waited several heartbeats, and then with words that were not words, the winds answered.

We are here.

Wind blew across her face and gusted against her body, filling her coat up so that it flapped behind her like wings, her hair

wild. It grew in strength, rising up, surrounding her and Ben.

Hold us , she urged the winds.

The gusts increased even more, buffeting them. Spray from the waterfall flecked across their faces.

“Now,” she said to Ben.

Breathing in, they stepped off the edge of the cliff.

They fell, spinning. They hurtled down too fast. And then the wind grew stronger, pushing against them. It barely held them

aloft as they tumbled. The ground rushed closer.

And then—it was over. They both stumbled when their boots touched the rocky soil. The winds gave one swirl around her before

shooting upward. At the very edge of the precipice stood Susannah, calling the wind to her, as a frightened Stasia clung to

her hand.

Energy danced through Alys’s body. Where was the exhaustion that often followed working a challenging spell?

“When can we do that again?” Alys asked eagerly.

“I never thought...” Ben said softly. “I didn’t believe I would ever fly. It was...” His eyes were warm and brightly blue as he gazed at her. “Terrifying... and... incredible.”

Awareness shimmered between them. Awareness of him as a man, and her as a woman. He was bigger than her—yet she could meet

his strength with her own. They both knew it.

Her gaze went to the lapel of his coat. The dark blue garment was fraying, but most of the brass buttons remained. Slightly

ragged as his coat was, it still marked him as a sailing master for the Royal Navy.

She was a pirate. A witch.

Abruptly, she let go of his hand, realizing only then that she’d still been holding it. She turned away, ignoring a throb

in her chest.

Alys gave her attention to Susannah and Stasia, descending from the cliff. They drifted down, rather than half fell, as Alys

and Ben had. Susannah’s braids slipped from the binding that held them back, and floated around her in elegant cursives. Stasia

seemed too terrified to concern herself with the fact that her loose trousers fluttered like sails.

Susannah clearly had more practice and skill when it came to flying.

“Steady as she goes, my girls,” Alys called up. “Nearly there.”

“Say nothing... until I am... on the ground,” Stasia growled.

Susannah was silent as she controlled the wind, but as she drew closer to the earth, she appeared joyous, like someone coming

home.

Finally, they all stood on the rocks, having reached the bottom of the precipice.

“When the sun turns into a block of ice,” Stasia muttered. “ That is when I will fly once more.”

Seeing Stasia frightened by anything was a rarity, but in addition to being Alys’s second-in-command, Stasia was also her

friend, and so Alys kept any remarks to herself.

They faced the waterfall, which appeared even more towering and thunderous than it had from the top of the precipice.

Water sheeted down in a heavy pour, slamming against the rocks that lay at the bottom.

It held a cool scent with the fragrance of stone beneath.

Since coming to the Caribbean, she’d seen many waterfalls.

The first one had dazzled her. But this left her stunned.

It was beautiful and terrible and somehow it was the key to Little George’s fail-safe.

Alys recited,

“A golden, holy key you seek to open the stone heart,

But first, you must be penitent.

Bow at the feet of the Weeping Princess

And behind her vale of tears, you will find your way.”

Everyone looked around, taking in the thick jungle that encircled the pool at the base of the waterfall. It was just as densely

wooded here as elsewhere on the island. The breeze churned up by the thundering water made the trees dance as if they were

revelers honoring the forest gods that made them.

The pool itself appeared about forty feet across, pale green around the edges and then a deep emerald in the middle, revealing

that it was quite deep.

“Little George was a wily bastard,” Alys said. “He wouldn’t leave the fail-safe out for just anyone to find.”

“How is it determined who’s just anyone ?” Ben peered into the green shadows surrounding them.

“We’ll split into two groups and search the area. Stasia and Susannah, you take the north quadrant.”

Her crew nodded and, with their hands on the butts of their pistols, marched into their assigned portion of the jungle.

“We’ll search around the waterfall,” she said to Ben.

They walked the perimeter of the pool at the base of the waterfall, searching for some hint or sign of the buried trove.

She examined rocks both large and small, toeing some aside or else rolling them away in the hopes of uncovering even the smallest item that might be the fail-safe.

Ben did the same, looking beneath the bracken that grew in the dampness.

They went in wider and wider arcs as they investigated. And yet, no matter how intently they searched...

“I’m finding fuck-all,” she said after some time. Crossing her arms over her chest, she added grimly, “Beginning to think

Little George was having us on, a final laugh from the depths of hellfire.”

“An infamous pirate like George Partridge isn’t the sort who fails to deliver on his threats, or in this case, clues.”

“And yet there’s nothing here .”

She sensed his frustration match her own. Together, they glared at the thundering water that fell in a surging misty curtain.

“?‘Behind her vale of tears, you will find your way,’?” she quoted.

They turned to face each other.

“ V-e-i-l not v-a-l-e ,” they said in unison.

“The water forms a veil,” he exclaimed, “and behind that...”

“We might find the fail-safe.”

She looked at the waterfall. A shadow loomed behind the cascade of water, a large dark hollow midway between the rocks at

the base and the top of the cliff. It appeared to be about twenty feet wide and ten feet high.

“A cave.” She tugged on Ben’s sleeve and pointed. “There, in the stone behind the waterfall.”

“Damn—I missed it before.”

“The water keeps it hidden. We’ll climb to it.”

They approached the rocky cliff next to the waterfall. Alys gripped a boulder and pulled herself up. She wedged her boots

into the stone to give her more force moving upward. Beside her, Ben did the same. They were silent as they climbed, slowly

ascending. Sun-warmed rocks dug into her hands, but her palms were callused, her fingers strong, and she held tightly as she

went up.

They climbed for what seemed like forever, nearly a distance of a hundred feet.

At last, they were perpendicular to the floor of the cave.

There was a slim gap between the cliff and the water plummeting downward, just enough to sidle through toward the cave—if they were careful.

Yet the rocks were damp and would prove hard to hold onto, and if they got caught in the waterfall, they’d be pulled off the cliff and dashed against the boulders below.

Her magic guttered like a candle. If either she or Ben fell, she had no power left to stop them from falling.

After taking a steadying breath, she edged sidewise. Her fingers clutched at the rocks made slick from the spray. She pushed

down hard with her boots on the footholds to keep from slipping. The waterfall’s roar drowned out all other sound, filling

her head with thunder. She kept her focus on the stones and handholds directly beside her as she sidled toward the cave.

Alys chanced a quick glance to make sure Ben was still beside her. His face was set in concentration, his hands splayed upon

the rocks. His gaze caught hers and he gave a brief nod.

She continued on. The waterfall now bellowed behind her, cool and ravenous. She pulled herself tightly against the cliffside.

Finally, her fingers felt the edge of the cave’s opening. She held her breath as she climbed the last remaining feet before

clambering in. At last, she was inside the cave.

She sat heavily, then scrambled back to give Ben room. Once his hand appeared around the lip of the rock, she exhaled, but

only when he was fully inside did she allow herself to breathe easier.

He splayed on the ground, spread-eagle, his chest rising and falling with great heaving gulps of air. Alys crawled until she

was right beside him. Her hair hung in long wet strands around her face.

He turned to look at her, and they stared at one another, both panting. Their breath mingled in the small space between them.

“Not as... adept with cliffs... as I am with rigging,” he gasped.

“A fair showing, all the same.”

“From both of us.”

A tiny smile played about his lips, and she couldn’t help herself from smiling back. But then their smiles fell away. All

she had to do was move her body slightly and she could stretch herself atop him. His clothing, like hers, was soaked. They

would be able to feel every muscle and curve.

Her regard flicked down the length of him. His breeches clung to the taut lines of his thighs.

She dragged her gaze back to his eyes, burning sharp blue even in the shadows of the cave. He levered himself up on his elbows

and reached for her.

Alys never considered herself a coward. Not until that moment.