Page 31 of The Sea Witch (Salt & Sorcery #1)

Ben gaped at Alys. She stared back.

He shook out the cuffs of his coat, but it was a lost cause. His garments had been drenched too many times to look at all

presentable. Between that and his loose hair and grown-in beard, if any of his superior officers saw him, they would be horrified.

Lieutenant Oliver would be particularly annoyed seeing him so bedraggled.

He gritted his teeth at the train of his thoughts. What the hell did it matter what Oliver felt? There was no value in a clean-shaven

jaw when Alys had just accused him of something he could never, would never, believe about himself.

“What just happened requires magic,” he snarled at her. “I have none.”

“Then what the fuck are those?” She pointed at his hands.

He didn’t want to look again, and yet he did. There they were, the markings that had haunted him since he was nine years of

age. His fingers strayed to his throat, and though he couldn’t feel anything, the markings had to be there, too.

“There’s no sense in any of it,” he threw back. “ Your magic caused... whatever the hell that was.”

“Magic and I are old friends,” she answered. “I know its ways. Including when it begins in me. And this time, it didn’t. The

source was you.”

“When we...”

He glanced toward Susannah and Stasia, watching them both with alarmed confusion. Only if the fires of hell licked his heels

would he admit in front of them that he and Alys had kissed.

“ Did you locate the fail-safe? ” the quartermaster demanded.

Alys held up the stone as everyone gathered close to peer at the writing on its surface.

She read aloud, “?‘Find what you seek in the shelter of Sir Fenfield’s nephew’s cousin’s daughter’s son’s table.’?”

“And?” Stasia pressed.

“And nothing.”

“That’s not the fail-safe,” Susannah said flatly.

“Another fucking riddle.” Alys glared at the stone in her hands. As she did, the edges of the polished rock began crumbling

into fine powder. It spread across the stone, until it was nothing but dust in her hands. She cast what remained of the dust

into the pool, and it sank through the water to settle at the bottom.

“More of Partridge’s magic?” Ben asked.

“I destroyed it,” she answered. “Can’t have anyone read it and follow us.”

“What does it mean?” Susannah wondered.

The trees ringing the waterfall’s pool shuddered. Shapes moved in the green shadows, and a low rumbling echoed out from the

forest. The quartermaster’s familiar flapped its wings in alarm.

Whatever creatures inhabited this island now stirred, and they didn’t sound pleased.

Alys drew her cutlass, and Stasia and Susannah cocked their pistols. Ben searched for something to use as a weapon, and had

to settle for a sharp piece of rock. He clutched it tightly and it dug into his skin. Damn if he didn’t wish for his own blade

or flintlock.

“There’s a creek that runs from the waterfall,” Alys whispered, nodding toward the running water. “We can’t go back the way we came, so we follow it. Hopefully it’ll lead us out of here.”

Silent nods were exchanged. Single file, with Alys in the lead, they hurried along the bank of the creek. Thick jungle gathered

on either side of them with lengthening shadows that deepened as dusk approached.

Rustling sounded in the vegetation. Deep growls rolled out from the cover of the trees.

“Don’t run,” Alys cautioned everyone.

Ben walked quickly to catch up with Alys. “I count half a dozen creatures following us. Large ones.”

“There are eight of them,” she answered lowly. She pulled on a tree branch, and used her cutlass to lop it off. Pinning his

gaze with hers, she handed him the limb. “Stay alert.”

“One of your daggers would be a better weapon,” he noted.

“I’ve little doubt you can defend yourself with that.”

Clearly, she still didn’t trust him enough to arm him. He hefted the branch, his fingers wrapped around the rough bark. Ben

gave it an experimental swing, wielding it like a club. It would have to do.

The quartermaster and Susannah glanced at his weapon before looking toward Alys with questions in their eyes. Alys’s set expression

didn’t move.

Silently, the women resumed their speedy march. Ben fell back, striding quickly behind Alys, his gaze constantly in motion

as he attempted to track whatever followed them and lurked in the darkness. Long shadows loomed like dusk-hued ghouls.

Stasia and Susannah also peered into the gloom. A tense silence fell, broken only by the continued growling from the unseen

creatures and the sound of the creek running over rocks as they followed it down the slope of the hill.

At last, the forest parted to reveal a narrow strip of shore. Thirty feet of sand stretched between the forest and the sea.

Ben didn’t exhale. They still needed to get off the beach and away from this island.

“Go,” the second-in-command said to her familiar. “Tell Thérèse and Cora where we are, and urge them to hurry.”

The magpie gave a quiet chirp, as if it, too, was aware of the things slinking in the darkness. With a flap of its wings,

the bird took to the sky and wheeled off to the other beach, where the jolly boat was grounded.

“They need the speed of Hermes,” Stasia muttered, glancing behind her at the jungle.

The sky deepened to violet with approaching night. A scattering of stars appeared above, while behind the forest loomed darkly.

The heat of the day hadn’t abated, pressing down with a crushing hand.

More rustling and snarling sounded.

Ben joined the quartermaster as she took a defensive position facing the fringe of the jungle. Alys and Susannah watched the

beach. Everyone crouched low with their weapons at the ready.

His stomach was taut in anticipation, and Alys’s tension vibrated through his consciousness. No one spoke.

The sound of oars in the water drew his attention. The jolly boat had arrived, and perched on the prow was the magpie.

Before the small vessel could reach the sand, everyone on land charged through the surf to reach it. Ben slogged through the

water, his movements slowed by the waves pushing against him. The women moved quickly, and panic skittered along his shoulders

as they clambered into the jolly boat.

They began to row.

Still in the water, he grasped the edge of the jolly boat as it pulled away from the beach. His arms strained with the force

of trying to hold on. He would be left behind.

And then hands were grabbing his coat, pulling him up and over the edge of the boat. Alys and Susannah gritted their teeth as they hauled him in. He tumbled to the bottom of the small vessel. For a moment, he lay still, his breath coming in ragged gulps.

He sat up and sent a glance toward the jungle.

Several large dark shapes emerged from the forest.

“Row, damn it,” Alys snarled at the two women on the oars.

As the pirates put their backs into it, Alys, Stasia, and Susannah lifted their hands and held them above the water. They

murmured words he couldn’t understand, but the surf around the jolly boat glowed. It shimmered as if lit by underwater candles.

The vessel moved, propelled through the water as if by a dozen oars.

Ben stared at the beach as it shrank behind them. The shapes were at the edge of the water now, watching their departure.

After several moments, they retreated back into the jungle.

He didn’t permit himself an exhale.

Even the magpie remained quiet on the voyage back, perched on the quartermaster’s shoulder and rubbing its beak back and forth

across the Greek woman’s cheek. Stasia stroked the bird’s chest feathers, her gaze steely as she stared back at the island

they had just fled from.

Ben’s attention remained fixed on Alys. Her eyes were shut, and though it was full dark now and he couldn’t see her clearly,

her weariness was tangible and pulled at him, dragging down his own heavy and aching limbs.

Finally, they reached the Sea Witch . Shaken and exhausted, they clambered out of the jolly boat and up the ladder hanging portside. In the lamplight, Alys appeared

even more drawn, but the moment her feet touched the top deck, her shoulders straightened, she raised up her chin, and confidence

radiated from her.

Only he knew differently. Beneath her poise, she ached with fatigue, but there was a determination that her crew would never

grasp that their captain was just as fallible as any of them.

The curious crew gathered around, full of questions.

“What did you see?”

“Did you find the fail-safe?”

“By and by,” Alys answered, holding up her hand, “all will be known to you.” Another crew member stepped forward, and Alys

said to her, “Inés, we’re in need of Josephine’s skills. Hearty food and plenty of ale and rum. Whatever works best for balancing.

Have them brought to my quarters.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” was the brisk answer, and she trotted off to obey Alys’s orders—whatever balancing might entail from the ship’s cook.

Alys turned to Stasia. “You and Susannah to my quarters for balancing. I’ll want Polly and Luna there as well. We’ve much

to discuss.”

“Yes, Captain,” the quartermaster replied briskly. She and Susannah climbed down the companionway, leaving Ben and Alys behind.

Alys motioned another member of the crew forward. She spoke lowly into the other woman’s ear before the crew member hurried

away. A moment later, the woman returned. Holding a pair of manacles.

Ben’s heart sank. Even so, he held out his wrists.

Alys took the manacles. Her gaze was on his as she fastened them on him, and he stared back. The iron was heavy and abraded

his skin, even as his gaze drifted to her mouth.

He’d tasted her. And she’d been hungry for him. Yet the manacles now binding him were proof that nothing had truly changed.

She still didn’t trust him, and he couldn’t fault her.

He had lost sight of his objective, misled by unwanted desire. A mistake he couldn’t, wouldn’t make again.

Ben glanced down at his ankles, awaiting the shackles, too. But when he looked toward Alys, a question in his eyes, she gave

a minute shake of her head.

He exhaled. Something had altered.