Page 60 of The Sea Witch (Salt & Sorcery #1)

“What did the creature want with you?” Ben continued to row them toward the ship, their speed all the faster from the assistance of her magic.

“Maybe the navy sent it,” she surmised. “They may see me as an even bigger danger to them now, and they can’t let that threat

stand.”

“They must know you’re in pursuit of Little George’s fail-safe. They’re afraid.”

“I weep for them,” she said, scornful. Then, with more warmth, “You fought well.”

He gave her a nod, though he looked abashed. “We fought well together.” He exhaled. “Practice and actual combat are assuredly

not the same.”

“I’d never know you hadn’t spent years brawling with pirates.”

The jolly boat finally reached the Sea Witch . They climbed the rope ladder as the crew gathered on the top deck to help them up. Once they were aboard, Stasia came forward,

her face expressionless except for the tight set of her mouth.

“Lambert certainly knows how to throw a feast,” her second-in-command said.

“We didn’t care for the entertainment he provided,” Alys answered.

Stasia glanced toward Ben and her brows lifted. Shooting her own look at him, Alys understood why her second-in-command had

reacted.

The way Ben gazed at her... his relief at seeing her safe, and the care in his eyes... There’d be no mistaking what

had happened between them.

Her hand went to the carving knife tucked into her belt. “In my quarters.”

The fail-safe knife lay in the middle of the table.

Alys gently ran her fingers over it, the residue of tingling on her skin.

The handle had been fashioned into the shape of a siren with abundant hair and a tempting but sinister smile.

Intricate engravings of seaweed worked their way across the blade’s surface.

Holes of different sizes had been punched into the blade as well.

She squinted to see that tiny numbers were also etched into the gold-plated silver, as fine as spiders dancing across the surface.

Alys, Stasia, Ben, Polly, and Luna all gathered around the table. Everyone looked haggard, their faces drawn with weariness.

Sunrise was only a few hours away, but no one would sleep until the riddle of the carving knife had been untangled.

“If we need to cut lamb into delicious morsels,” Stasia said, standing opposite Alys, “we are now well-equipped for the task.

Beautiful as this knife is, I cannot see how it is worth risking your life for it.”

Eris, perched on Stasia’s shoulder, made a chirp of agreement.

“There’s far more to this knife than one would guess.” Alys tapped each of the holes in the blade. “Not random, these. They

form a pattern.”

There was silence, and then Ben spoke.

“A constellation.”

“Hydra,” Luna said.

“Curious location to place a constellation.” Stasia bent closer to study the knife.

Alys started. “It’s a chart.”

“A celestial chart,” Ben said. “We line it up with Hydra...”

“Then we know where we’re headed,” Alys continued.

“Except that constellation isn’t visible this time of year,” Luna noted.

“But here,” Polly said, tapping the numbers 31–10 . “A date, perhaps. None of the other numbers match the calendar. This could be the Thirty First of October. Five months from

now”

Alys grabbed the knife and held it up, moving it this way and that.

“We position the blade to where Hydra would be on All Hallows’ Eve,” Alys said.

“And then?” Stasia pressed.

Still holding the knife, Alys gave her a wry glance. “Then, the and then will hopefully reveal itself.”

The ship slept around them as the group moved to the top deck, which was largely unoccupied except for the morning watch.

In the wake of the harrowing time on land, Alys drew fresh salty sea air into her lungs. Her body still continued to throb

warmly in the aftermath of the pleasure she and Ben had shared, even following the terror of their flight.

Ben all but glowed with care and tenderness.

She handed Luna the blade, and the navigator held the carving knife up to the black star-dusted sky.

“There,” Luna said after adjusting its position and angle. “That’s where Hydra would be on All Hallows’ Eve.”

“And there.” Ben indicated the tip of the blade, angled toward the dark horizon. “The knife points the way to where we’re

headed.”

“It’s a chart, guiding us to our next step.” Alys shook her head. “I keep thinking I know the limits to Little George’s cunning.

And I keep being proved wrong.”

“What is the next step?” Stasia demanded as Eris chittered with agitation. “The end of our journey, or another kataraménos clue?”

Alys leaned against the railing and folded her arms across her chest. “There’s no way of knowing.”

Everyone was silent as they contemplated this.

“Luna,” Alys went on, “set our heading and then inform the helm.”

“Aye, Captain.” Luna sped down the companionway, as if eager for her charts.

“Polly, find your berth and get some sleep,” Alys said. “Stasia, you do the same. We’ll need rest before facing... whatever it is that we’re going to face.”

Stasia gave a clipped nod and followed Polly as she went below.

Alone with Ben, Alys allowed herself to droop with weariness. He was beside her at once, offering his strength and the sturdiness

of his body. For a moment, she allowed herself to lean against him.

She tried to push back to stand on her own, and fought a yawn. “Didn’t get much service out of that bed at Lambert’s.”

“We made fine use of the chaise.”

“Look at you. Preening like you’ve got the biggest cock to ever sail the Caribbean.”

“You did call it gorgeous .”

When he moved to wrap his arms around her, she eased away.

“Everyone’s asleep,” he said.

She glanced toward the upper deck. “There’s the watch, too.”

“You’ve had men aboard this ship before. Brought other lovers to the Sea Witch . But,” he said, wry, “none of them were in the Royal Navy.”

“ Were , not are ?”

“Going back’s impossible. And I don’t want to. That’s not what I know, anymore. What I do know...” Closing the distance

between them, he cupped her jaw with his hand. “I know you , Alys Tanner.”

He looked into her eyes, his own gaze warm and affectionate.

“That’s where the danger lies,” she said flatly.

“No danger with me.” He stroked his finger down her cheek.

“Come.” She took his hand from her face and led him to the companionway. “I’ve no desire to collapse in a heap on the top

deck, dead to the world. More than anything, we need sleep.”

He walked beside her, and she kept her fingers woven with his. Save for a few creaks and the water lapping against the hull,

the ship was quiet as they made their way to her quarters.

Desire—she knew what it was.

She’d sailed its dark and wild seas many times over the course of the past year, knew its swells and rough waters, the danger

and excitement from its shoals and shores. The first time she’d ever gone to bed with a man who wasn’t Samuel, she’d been

dizzy with eagerness and fear, trembling with a combination of nerves and enthusiasm. She could get what she wanted for herself,

demand exactly what it was she needed, accepting only what it was she craved.

Nothing had to be suffered in silence. Nothing had to be endured. She wasn’t a cup to hold someone else’s release. She wasn’t

subject to someone’s affections. She commanded the ship of her own pleasure. Whoever didn’t like her terms found themselves

back on shore.

She’d taken lovers from one coast of the Caribbean to the other, only picking the men who caught her fancy.

She was glad to welcome her lovers to her berth, and even more grateful when they left and she was the self-contained captain

once more. As their sweat cooled on her skin, none of them left any lingering trace of themselves on her heart. They didn’t

cage her with claims that they felt deeply for her. She certainly felt little for them.

They couldn’t touch her.

But Ben... Oh, constellations above, Ben.

Now she knew what it was to have Ben as her lover. He’d been eager and open to learning. He took her lessons and gave her

pleasure. Yet beneath the passion, there’d been something terrifying.

She wouldn’t name it. Naming it gave it power and truth.

Afternoon sunlight slanted through the long window in Alys’s quarters as she and Ben reviewed the chart Luna had pulled, showing

their course.

She had awakened in his arms only a few hours ago, and a vague sense of shame had crept over her.

The fact that she’d slept so late weighed in her gut like so much ballast. She was always on deck by the crack of dawn, and now, here she was, lying abed like a paying passenger, not the captain of a whole damn ship.

It wasn’t Ben’s fault that having him hold her as she slept lulled her into the deepest, most profound sleep of her life.

Thank the stars he hadn’t offered her more sweet, soft kisses, or tender, caring smiles. She didn’t have any defenses against

them. Instead, they were both purposeful and focused, over their meal of charred stew—a new cook was definitely in order in the wake of Josephine leaving—and now, as they studied the chart.

“Here’s where we’re headed.” She ran her finger across the map, skimming over the painted waves, until a cluster of tiny dots

on the chart stopped her progress. “You know it?”

“The Caribbean is rife with miniscule uninhabited islands,” he said, examining the map. “Half of them don’t appear on any

chart. This archipelago could contain a score of more islands, some no bigger than a dozen yards across.”

“Hell.” She braced her hands on the table as she leaned over the map. “Little George has already proved himself a cunning

bastard. It’s no small task to find the one island we need.”

“Doubt, from the captain who raided a Redthorn monastery, and fought a dozen pirates in Lambert’s house?” Warm and large,

his hand covered hers.

She dragged in a breath. Before she could speak, there was a knock at the door.

“Enter,” she called, relieved.

Stasia opened the door and stood on the threshold. Her face was set and serious, even more so than usual. “I need you on the

quarterdeck.”

At once, Alys followed her second-in-command up the companionway and higher, until they stood on the quarterdeck. Ben was right behind her, and the three of them gathered at the railing, where Eris perched. A seagull was beside the magpie, both birds twittering to each other.

“A problem has sailed into our path,” Stasia said without preamble. She nodded toward the seagull. “This is Bembe, and he

has news.”

“What’s he seen?” Alys asked.

“That ship of yours,” Stasia said to Ben. “The naval flagship.”

“The Jupiter ,” Ben supplied.

“It sails between us and where we are heading,” Stasia explained. “We circled back toward the Hydra formation, and when we

did that, they must have tracked us from our last encounter with them.”

Grimly, Alys said, “With its leviathan and that other creature they have bound to their will. Fuck.”

A heavy silence fell as they contemplated what this meant.

“The previous time we faced that ship,” Stasia said, somber, “we survived, but barely.”

“We outrun them,” Ben suggested. “Same as before.”

“They’d follow,” Alys said. “And we’d take them to the next step in our search for the fail-safe.”

“Find another route?” Stasia mused.

Alys shook her head. “We don’t know the precise location we’re going. If we try a different course, we could be completely

thrown off and never find what it is we’re looking for.”

Another taut quiet descended.

“We’ve got no options,” Alys said darkly. “Got to move forward, but if we do, we’re sailing right into destruction.”

“Not if the Jupiter is set on a different course,” Ben said.

“We cannot be sure where they will go,” Alys countered. “Not unless...” She stared at Ben. “No.”

His expression was resolute. “I’ll return to the Jupiter , tell them I’ve escaped, and feed them false information so they sail in a completely different direction.”

“There’s another way,” Alys said.

“There is not,” Stasia said. “What the sailing master says makes sense. If he goes back to his ship and leads them astray,

we have the best chance of finding what it is we seek.”

“We could summon as much wind as possible, outrun them.”

“A huge gamble,” Ben said. “They’ve two creatures to do their bidding. They could swim faster than the Jupiter and catch us as we try to flee.”

“We could try to wreck the Jupiter , use our magic—”

“Even all the witches aboard our ship could not destroy a naval man-o’-war,” Stasia pointed out.

Alys forced out a breath and set her hands on her hips. “Fine. We’ll send him back.”

She didn’t remember going below, but suddenly she was in her quarters. Behind her, the door shut quietly but firmly.

Wheeling around, she faced Ben, who stared at her with a stoic expression that made her stomach clench.

“I’ll find a way to return to you.” He took a step toward her, cautiously, as if afraid she might bolt.

“You can’t be sure of that.”

“I know it as sure as I know the beat of my own heart.” He reached for her hand and placed it on his chest, where his heart

did pound steadily. “Nothing in this world or the next will keep me from you, Flame.”

“Please, don’t.” She hesitated before carefully resting her body against his. “Say nothing of that. I can’t... I can’t

bear it.”

“But it’s true,” he answered gently. “Shutting your ears to it doesn’t make it less true.”

“I won’t allow it. It’s...” Her palm hovered above his chest. “Love’s a prison.”

He cupped his hands around her face. “What your husband gave you... that wasn’t love. It was ownership.”

“The same thing.”

He bent close and pressed his lips to hers. “Not with me.”

“You can’t say that,” she choked. “You can’t tell me such things and then leave.”

“Reaching that fail-safe is imperative. This is how I can make certain you do it.”

“The hell with the fail-safe.”

“We both know its significance,” he said gently. “When you get the fail-safe, then you are safe. And that’s all I want. Your safety and happiness.”

“Damn you, Benjamin Priestley,” she growled. “I wish you’d never chased me through St. Gertrude.”

“I’ll chase you off the map, to where the dragons live.”

She closed her eyes. “I’ve lost so much, so many. What I want most, I fear the most.”

“A peculiar thing about fear,” he said softly. “Running away from it doesn’t take the danger away. We’re always at risk. Everyone

at every moment.”

She couldn’t think of it. She wanted nothing but the certainty of his body and hers.

“Kiss me.” She threaded her fingers into his hair. “Kiss me and let’s pretend, for just a little while, that nothing and no

one else exists. There’s only us. Us and the sea. And it’s enough.”