Cutlass (35 page)

“What was her name?”

Leaf smiled, and it was as if he was remembering sunlight, sweetness, and the gentleness of spring.

“Her name was Fira. She was brave, beautiful, and she loved me. Me, the rebel Prince of Aurum—she wanted me. I was never so enchanted and never so much in love.”

“What happened?”

“She was murdered,” said Leaf quietly. “She sailed with me against the wishes of her father. We came to port on an island called Aryndel, in the Octent. We should not have gone, for rarely are Elves of Aurum welcomed in the Octent. We were only staying there for a night—we needed supplies, but a few drunken men at the Inn couldn’t keep their eyes off Fira,” Leaf laughed bitterly. “They may not like us, but they like the look of our women. I didn’t like it, so I felt it best we leave. We just wanted to return to our ship and sail on, but the men had a different idea and followed us. They surrounded us outside the Inn, and took Fira from my side. They didn’t know I was armed, and they assumed they could beat me in a confrontation. When I drew my blade, they split up—three attempted to take me and the other four dragged Fira away.

“The men weren’t hard to fight, I must admit. They were too drunk to realize they had messed with the wrong person. They mocked me, and I took them down. All the while I could hear Fira screaming for my help somewhere in the distance. I followed her cries, but as soon as the men saw me, they knew their friends were dead. Only one of the men took his revenge—an ugly, greasy man with black hair. He withdrew a knife and drove it through Fira over and over again. He met his death just as violently as Fira…and the others followed.”

Leaf was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was strained.

“She died in my arms, and the soldiers found me soon after. I refused to move until they let me lay her to rest. I sent her body away in flames and then let them take me. At first I did not care what happened to me. I took the torture, and I wanted to die.”

“What changed?” Barren’s voice was barely a whisper, and as he spoke, he felt chills rise over his skin.

Leaf smiled. “A dream, a beautiful dream. She came to me as real and warm as she had been before her death. She asked me not to give up, and I would never deny her what she wanted. Since then I have searched for a dream like that one.”

“I am sorry, Leaf.”

“It is easier to keep her death in the back of my mind and her life at the forefront. My point is, whether from shame or your stubbornness, do not let what you feel for Larkin slip past you so easily. You will never forgive yourself.”

“You make it sound…simple.”

“Well, I never said it would be easy,” said Leaf. “But the fight for Larkin never promised to be easy. You learned that the day you met her.”

Barren touched his chest where she’d hit him with the heels of her boots. She’d been so angry…so unexpectedly violent.

“And you have come a long way from that,” Leaf continued. “Which is good…I have never been so sick of the Cliffs in all my life.”

Barren laughed quietly. “But it should not have happened. She was my prisoner.”

“You don’t need to care that it happened,” said Leaf. “You only need to know that it has, and embrace it…because the rest of us have been taking bets, and I want to win.”

Barren slugged Leaf in the arm, but couldn’t help laughing. “I should have known something was up. You never offer advice without something in it for yourself.”

“Well, there is something in it for you, too,” said Leaf. “She has taught you a lot, and she’ll continue to teach you a lot. She’s not afraid of you, Barren Reed. Never has been, and never will be.”

For hours, Barren stared at the design he traced from the tattoo on Devon’s arm. He had tried to take it apart piece by piece to see if any of it morphed into something he recognized, but so far he had gotten nowhere. He looked between the image and the map of the Orient, thinking he could make a comparison, but he felt as if he really had no starting point.

Throwing his pencil down, Barren pulled his sketchbook toward him and turned the page. Larkin stared back at him. He had never finished the drawing. He had planned to tear it to pieces so no one would ever find it, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. Now, he was thankful he hadn’t.

Turning the page, he found the invitation to Larkin’s engagement party. For a moment, he studied the handwriting, wondering who had taken such care to write them. It seemed so long ago that he had met her—beautiful and ignorant, but so determined. He knew the only thing he could do was hope against hope that these invitations never came into use again. Without another thought, he tore the invitation in two and shoved the pieces in the sketchbook.

He missed her, feared for her. Every night he lay down to sleep, and images of their time in Estrellas passed through his mind. He saw her pain, the anguish, the betrayal she felt as her father refused to listen to her pleas. Suddenly, Barren was filled with a deep, burning rage. He sat for a moment, brooding in the thick air surrounding him, repressing the sudden wish to take revenge for Larkin.

Then the feeling crashed and it was replaced by severe sadness. Everything Barren was at this moment was the opposite of what he should be—the rage, the merciless thoughts of murder—none of that belonged to him. He was a product of what William had done. Larkin had asked him that once, while they stared up at the stars—an ancient pirate’s map.

Suddenly, Barren had an idea and his eyes went to the image of the tattoo. He pushed back his chair and began pulling open drawers, emptying their content upon the floor. Papers spilled everywhere, empty inkwells rolled, and metal mapping tools crashed to the ground. One drawer after the other piled before him.

“Come on, Cove!” Barren growled to himself. “I know you’ve got to have a star map.”

Barren pulled open the last drawer, and it was full of rolled scrolls. He picked them all up and laid them out on his desk. He opened them one-by-one, placing the ones he didn’t need on the ground. Finally, Barren came to one scroll with silver edging. As he unrolled it, images of the sky’s constellations rose before him. He saw them all—Orion Navis (the ship), Pyxis (the mariner’s compass), the legendary Kraken, Jack Ketch (the executioner), and finally the constellation Barren was looking for: Circinus, the drafting compass—the constellation from which Barren could navigate in any direction.

The pirate sat the drawing of Devon’s tattoo beside the constellation map—the two drawings were essentially the same design: an open-ended triangle. Both were also the same length. It was then Barren remembered something Leaf had said—that the Lyrics were placed on an island to themselves, isolated, forbidden to interact with mortals. Perhaps the island wasn’t far from Aurum.

Barren placed the drawing of the tattoo over the map of the Orient, making sure the symbol of Aurum covered the island. Then he placed the image of the constellation over that: it made sense. The island was located at the tip of Circinus. It would lead Barren home. The words of his father fell into his head as everything suddenly came together.
Stars ensure all that is lost is found
.

Barren headed outside, making his way to the helm. He thrust the map of the Orient into Sam’s hands, pointing to an empty space in the water where he’d marked the coordinates of the supposed Lyric island. The helmsman looked amused as Barren explained what he thought resided there and how he had discovered it.

“You want to go here?” Sam pointed to the space.

“Yes,” said Barren.

“With no proof that this island is actually in existence?”

“Sam, the bloodstone was just a legend at the beginning of all this. Who’s to say I am wrong about the whereabouts of this island?

“Have you told the others?”

“One thing at a time, Sam. We have yet to make it to Cape Oceaniana.”

The helmsman raised his brows.

“Speaking of Cape Oceaniana,” Sam stopped Barren before he could move away from the helm. “Larkin has not been particularly good luck to you since she joined our crew.”

“What are you getting at?”

Sam held up his hands as if defending himself. “I’m only asking that you promise you’ll come back.”

Barren narrowed his eyes a little, then he laughed. “I always come back.”

***

“It will be impossible to come to port in this weather,” said Barren quietly. He glanced at Albatross who stood next to him, hands behind his back, staring into the thick fog. It was all around them—like a terrible cloud of smoke, choking their vision. Barren had sent Leaf to trade places with Slay in the crow’s nest in hopes that the Elf could see through the veil.

“Quite impossible if you cannot even see the island,” said Cove. “Though the sun should burn it away by midday. You could stall the ship.”

Barren didn’t mind stalling the ship, but there was something making him uneasy. He strained his vision as he peered into the fog, wishing he could peel back layer after layer with his eyes.

“If you did stall, we could discuss our plan for entering Cape Oceaniana,” said Cove. “I’m unsure if we should even come to port, in case Christopher and William remain ashore.”

Barren met the Ambassador’s dark gaze and then called quietly for the twins and Seamus. “Drop anchor,” he ordered. “And prepare the cannons.”

“Cannons?” Datherious asked with a laugh. “It’s hardly likely anyone will find us in this mess.”

Barren sighed inwardly. “Perhaps you are right, and if no harm comes to us once the fog has lifted, you can ridicule me as much as you wish, but for now, I would prefer to be overly-cautious.”

The three nodded and once they dropped anchor, headed down the hatch to prepare the cannons. Barren turned his body toward Cove and Alex came forward. Devon and Em trailed behind.

“The Cape is heavily guarded on a normal basis because they’re so close to the Octent,” said Cove. “From what I hear, they normally fight Corsairs from the Avalon. The Cape will not take kindly to anyone coming to port who does not bear their flag.”

“What are they protecting?” asked Barren.

“Ivory,” Devon’s voice rasped quietly.

Barren glanced at the old man and then at Cove who nodded in agreement. “If you do want to find out where Larkin is, it is probably best we sneak onto the island. You are a fast swimmer and the walls can be scaled. After that it’s just a matter of finding my people.”

The Cape was known for its defenses. As Cove had mentioned, they had to be a little overprotective. Corsairs were a different type of pirate—a different order entirely, and the rules they held themselves to were hardly rules at all. If anyone in Mariana could be accused of cruelty, it was the Corsairs.

“You must also assume that Christopher and William are still there,” Cove added. “They’ve few options in their search of the bloodstone.”

Yes. Christopher and William would be at a dead end, and their only possible move beyond Cape Oceaniana would be attacking Aurum…and Barren wasn’t sure how desperate they were.

Without warning, an explosion sounded, shattering the peaceful quiet that surrounded them. Everyone drew their swords and stared about, and Leaf jumped from the crow’s nest and landed next to Barren on deck. They waited for the ship to settle again, and the water to return to stillness. For a moment, Barren was in disbelief, as the cannon had come from his own ship. There was clamoring below deck in the silence that followed. Seamus was the first to climb out, and the twins followed.

“What the hell happened?” Barren demanded.

“It was an accident,” Datherious said, his manner far from alarmed or panicked.

“How do you not intend to light a cannon?” asked Cove, his dark eyes were unkind.

The twin glared at the man. “I thought I saw something move about in the mist.”

“If I did not see anything, how did you see anything?” asked Leaf.

“Your eyes cannot be everywhere, Elf.” Tension flooded the space between them.

“Damn it!” Barren peered into the mist. His hair stood on end. That uneasy feeling had returned tenfold, and anxiety spread through his chest.

In the distance, he saw an orange flash.

“Get down!” he yelled.

Everyone on deck hit the floor. An ear-splitting crack sounded, and the mast groaned as it fell, crashing into the railing of the deck, and hitting the Orient’s surface with a splash. In the silence of the aftermath, Barren rose before the rest of his crew. The mist he’d been so mistrustful of before, was slowly curling away to reveal the outline of a warship before them. It held forty cannons at least, and would surely reduce the
Vasa
to toothpicks—that shot had only been a warning.

“I don’t think we can fight that thing,” said Leaf.

 “We have to try,” Barren returned. “Prepare for battle.”

The deck erupted into fierce defense, and they had to hurry. Seamus and Alex rushed to the swivel guns mounted on the railing of the ship. They worked quickly to load them. The twins, Slay and others from Cove’s crew disappeared below deck to set the cannons toward the attacking ship. Barren hurried into his cabin, throwing open his trunk. He tossed the clothes onto the floor. At the bottom were several powder flasks—glass balls filled with gunpowder. Barren pulled them out carefully, grabbing a shirt as he hurried out of his cabin.