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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Human wounds, as it happened, couldn’t be healed in a day. Or even two. Apparently, all a human healer could do was clean the wound, stitch it closed, and wait until the body did the healing itself. The process could even take cycles, depending on the severity of the injury. Celeste was baffled. No wonder humans didn’t live very long.

“You’re both lucky,” Nasir said as he set about cleaning Raiden’s wound. The bullet had gone clean through his arm, avoiding anything too important. Raiden should be healed enough to function in a couple of months, Nasir informed them, but to regain the full strength of his arm—only time would tell. “Don’t lift anything heavy,” Nasir added. But there was no chance of that. At least not yet. Raiden couldn’t even lift his arm without breaking into a cold sweat.

Celeste’s wound was far less troublesome. Because she thrust her arm up into the shark’s teeth and hadn’t actually been bitten, the punctures were shallow. “You’ll probably be healed up in a couple of weeks. Although you’ll probably have scarring.” The teeth had left a curved line across her inner bicep. A siren healer could remove it later, if she wanted. But she had a feeling she’d like to keep it. It went rather nicely with the black crescent on her other arm. And it could serve as a reminder not to go about rescuing stupid humans.

She couldn’t believe she had done so again .

If only she hadn’t lost her gun, and her sword, it was possible neither of them would have been injured at all. Guilt washed over her. She always seemed to make a mess of situations. Perhaps she should practice with the sword and gun to avoid being such a deadweight. She had seen plenty of the other crew members conducting target practice on the deck or dueling each other to hone their skills. She could join them, though it made her nervous to even think about being around a group of men. Despite being on this ship for days, she’d gone out of her way to avoid meeting any more of them. Kiyami and she were the only women on the ship, a fact Celeste couldn’t avoid noticing.

Nasir ordered her to bed. She refused.

“Cuts and bruises aren’t the only things that need time to heal, love,” Nasir said.

She ignored him. Today was a wake-up call. Yes, she was shaken from how close both she and Raiden had come to death. And the discovery that she was among pirates didn’t help her feel any safer upon the Red Revenge . But as she moved through her routine, helping Kiyami to avoid the debris of the sunken ship before getting them back on course, she couldn’t stop running through the battle again and again. As loath as she was to admit it, as much as it felt like a betrayal of her family, Celeste couldn’t ignore the fact she had never felt so alive.

The waxing moon rose before the sun had set, hanging above as if it were watching her. She wondered what it saw. A girl? A siren? A loyal princess? A deceitful pirate?

When she joined the crew for dinner, she stared at her plate. Nasir had outdone himself, perhaps in an attempt to give everyone a good end to an otherwise wearisome day. The remainder of the pork he had brought from Romsey was cooked and served with potatoes, crisp bread, and hard cheese.

Ordinarily, the officers drank wine with dinner, but tonight the group passed around a bottle of rum. When Kiyami passed the bottle to Celeste, the siren took the bottle and stared at it. She still hadn’t tried a drop of alcohol since coming aboard. Perhaps she would like to feel dumb tonight, if only to give her brain some rest. But Celeste still didn’t feel comfortable enough to lose any sort of control, so she passed it across to Bastian, trying not to look at Raiden’s empty chair at the head of the table. She closed her eyes and saw Raiden sliding down the stairs in a trail of blood.

The other crew members must have felt similarly, because the atmosphere of the ship was off. It was a considerably disastrous event, even for a group of pirates. They had been surrounded, nearly forced into surrender, all because they were unable to work together for more than twenty minutes without dissolving into discord. If they had been captured, they would have surely been killed. After all, pirates didn’t leave survivors. Raiden’s crew certainly hadn’t. Another thing that weighed on Celeste heavily. What was worse, she didn’t feel that bad about it.

What was happening to her?

And, to top it all off, the cargo ship had been transporting what looked like someone’s personal items. Nothing particularly valuable, like treasure or tradable goods. When the crew had gone to loot, they had found a huge wooden bedframe, books, tables, and the like. Not a lot worth stealing besides some weaponry and trinkets.

At the table, Kiyami perched in her chair, moving her potatoes around in circles. Nasir, who albeit was normally quiet, didn’t speak a word save for answering a question or two with a grunt. Even Torben, who should have been overjoyed after a good fight, jabbed at his food using much more force than necessary. Each stab made loud scraping noises that rang through the small room. Bastian flinched at every scrape. And the Admiral, who usually sat below the table waiting for scraps, was absent. The dog had refused to leave Raiden’s side since the wounded captain had boarded the ship.

“Torben! For the love of God, would you please stop slamming your knife into the table?” Bastian snapped, leaning back in his chair.

Torben’s face burned red. He threw his knife, blade down, into the wood of the table.

“All right, twatface!” Torben shoved the table away from him as he stood. “You have a problem with how I eat? Why don’t I show you where you can put your kni?—”

Nasir reached out a hand and placed it on Torben’s shoulder. The Yenrian stopped shouting and let out a breath. He placed his hand on top of his husband’s. Nasir smiled softly as their fingers interlaced. Taking his time, Torben sat back down. But he still shot Bastian a dirty look before pulling his knife up from the table and returning to his meal. For a moment, the only sound was the squeak of the swaying lantern’s rusted chain above their heads and the roar of the ocean outside.

“Did you get anything interesting?” Kiyami asked, turning to Celeste. Her attempt at steering the conversation didn’t go unnoticed by the others, but it was welcomed.

Celeste shook her head. What little she had taken was lost, but none of it was useful anyway. Then Celeste remembered the parchment tucked into her dress. It was probably nothing, but she did still wish to inspect the gold seal closer. Perhaps it would give some clue as to whose furniture had been on the ship and why. Not valuable information, but at least it would be something to talk about. So Celeste fished it from her bodice. The wax was gold, and jutting forth from it was the image of a blazing sun. Celeste offered it to Kiyami, but the girl’s fingers had hardly touched the parchment before Bastian pulled it from her grasp.

“What’s wrong?” Kiyami asked.

“This is the king’s seal,” he said, frowning.

The crew stopped eating.

“Why would a cargo ship captain have a letter from the king?” Kiyami said. “They were transporting furniture.”

“We’re all talking about the Pirate King, right? King Leonidas?” Torben asked.

“Yes, what other king would I be talking about?” said Bastian.

“There are other kings!” Torben crossed his arms.

Kiyami leaned forward across the table, straining to look. “What does it say?”

Bastian frowned deeper. “There’s too much water damage. I can’t make out anything.”

“A cargo ship filled with furniture and weapons and a letter from the king.” Kiyami grabbed the rum and took a long drink. “Is the king... moving ?”

“Did Raiden see this?” Bastian said, looking to Celeste.

She shook her head.

“Do you think he knows anything?” Kiyami asked.

Bastian thought for a moment and then shrugged. “If he does, he hasn’t told me.”

“That boy certainly loves to keep secrets.” Kiyami sighed.

Bastian grimaced but didn’t disagree. The group fell once more into silence. Nasir asked if anyone would like dessert, but no one wanted any. They passed the bottle around again.

“Whose night is it to wash the dishes?” Kiyami asked at last. It was something of a Captain Sharp rule that the officers did their own dishes. He said it made the meals feel more like one big happy family. Celeste had thought it a joke when he first told them, but now she wasn’t so sure. They certainly squabbled over it like a family.

“Celeste did them yesterday,” Nasir noted. Thankful, Celeste reached out, placing a hand on top of his and squeezed. He smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners, and squeezed back. Her heart pinched in her chest. The swirling emotions from the day rose up inside her at once. She tried to press them back, but they were a whorl of color, painting her from the inside out. The bright orange of stress, a bruised purple homesickness, and queasy yellow fear—her constant companion. She took her hand away. If Nasir had noted her change, he didn’t show it.

Meanwhile, Torben, Bastian, and Kiyami looked among themselves. It was the same song and dance every night. Bastian and Torben hated doing dishes. They had been avoiding it since the voyage began. This normally left Kiyami and Celeste to volunteer.

“Oh no,” Kiyami said, staring down Bastian and Torben in turn. “I’ve already washed dishes twice! And we’ve only been at sea less than a week. You two grow up and sort it out among yourselves.”

“All right, let’s arm-wrestle for it,” said Torben.

“I’m—I’m not going to arm-wrestle for it ,” said Bastian, avoiding the man’s gaze.

“Why not?”

“Be—because...” Bastian sputtered. Anyone with eyes could see why he wouldn’t want to wrestle. Torben’s one arm was bigger than both of Bastian’s. And although Bastian was much taller than Torben, the gunner was built like a cannon. Short and compact. “I’ll do the dishes.”

Torben, who clearly wanted to wrestle Bastian for it, looked rather put out.

Bastian stood from the table and held up the parchment. “Would someone check on Rai and show him this?”

Celeste had been wanting an excuse to see Raiden’s room ever since she arrived. She reached for the parchment.

Bastian hesitated. The pause was brief, but strange. Did he not trust her? Bastian had been more than kind to her up until now. And as far as she knew, Raiden hadn’t told Bastian she was a siren. Did he blame her for what had happened to Raiden? Indigo guilt dropped like a stone in her stomach. She tried to push this away too, but it was getting harder to do so. Bastian was right not to trust her. No one on this ship should.

He placed the parchment in her hand. “Thank you,” he said. “But if he’s asleep, leave him be for tonight.”

The group dispersed. But as Celeste pushed open the door to the officers’ quarters, Kiyami followed.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Celeste stopped walking and turned. With a look of concern, Kiyami reached out a hand toward Celeste but must have remembered the last time Celeste had flinched from her in the jail. Kiyami let it drop to her side. It was too much. She didn’t want Kiyami digging through her feelings, bringing them up. But the feelings surfaced anyway. Purple, indigo, yellow, and orange mixed until she couldn’t separate them. They turned black. Confused. She couldn’t hold them down. She couldn’t breathe. Why was this happening to her? Why was she like this? She had been fine a moment ago.

Falling apart in front of Kiyami was the last thing Celeste wanted to do. She’d look weak. Unreliable. These humans weren’t her friends. Or her family. And if they were, they’d only push her away. Because these feelings were too big. And she couldn’t control them. Why couldn’t she control them? Why did she feel so much? Kiyami was strong and sturdy. Celeste wished to be like that.

And so she swallowed and gave Kiyami what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

“All right.” Kiyami looked unconvinced. “You know where to find me if you need me.” Then she turned and headed back to the deck.

The siren clenched and released her fists at her sides. Kiyami hadn’t asked anyone else if they were okay. Even now, so far away from home, she couldn’t escape it. It took mere days for Kiyami to discover how weak Celeste was. How fragile. How easily overwhelmed. Her feelings felt like water. She tried to hold them in her hands, to carry them as everyone else seemed to, but the feelings kept coming. Pouring over. Finding every crack between her fingers and slipping through. Spilling out. The only thing she’d found that helped was escaping to the surface. Or crying about it, apparently. Although usually that made everything feel worse. It was shameful to cry, especially in front of others. But Celeste couldn’t count how many times she’d cried in front of Maeve. Maeve had never cried in front of her.

No one did.

She was simply weaker than them. And no amount of training or drills or lessons ever helped. Perhaps she was the problem. Her stupid bleeding heart was the whole reason she was in this mess in the first place. All because she couldn’t stomach watching a human die. And now she had saved him again. Betrayed her people, again. All for the sake of a murderous pirate.

The tears came. They always did. And she couldn’t hold them either.

Maybe she would go to bed. She didn’t want Raiden to see her like this, and he was probably asleep anyway. Nasir had ordered him to rest, after all. Raiden could see the parchment tomorrow. Then she would have fresh eyes to search his room for clues as to what sort of secret treasure he was risking their lives for. She slipped inside her room, hoping the space would calm her. It didn’t. The walls were too thin, and he could hear her. Be strong , she demanded. A strangled sob escaped her lips.

She wasn’t strong.

Another sob.

She was out of control.

Another.

And at this rate, she was never going home.

Through the wall beside her, Celeste heard a soft knock. She stilled, her hand clamping over her mouth. The knock came again. She pressed her hand against the wall.

Another sob.

Another knock.

She sighed and, at last, knocked back.

Silence.

Then—

Two knocks.

She sniffed, a ghost of a smile appearing in the darkness. She knocked twice.

Three knocks.

Shouldn’t he be resting? She returned the pattern.

Four.

With a sigh, Celeste realized she couldn’t avoid Raiden after all. There was no privacy on this ridiculous ship. So she wiped her face on her sleeve. And before he could knock again, Celeste slipped from her room and took the two steps to his door.

She knocked. Four times.

He opened the door.

“My hero.” He smiled.