Cutlass (39 page)

“You already forgot so much of your past.”

“I was only following orders from my father; I was never loyal to you.”

As Barren sat on his knees, large drops of rain began to fall. They were like ice as they hit him, increasing as the seconds passed.

“So why pay so much attention to me now?” he asked.

“We need you to sail this ship to the coordinates you provided.”

“No,” said Barren evenly.

“You want everyone on board to die?”

“If the Orient wants you to pass, you will.”

“This is not the Orient’s war—it is your mother’s.”

 “If I am at the helm, there is no guarantee we will make it,” said Barren.

“Then I suppose we will meet our end.”

The guards jerked Barren to his feet and hauled him to the helm. Barren placed his hands on the wet spindles, but the guards weren’t finished with him yet. They wrapped rope around his wrists and tied them to the wheel.

Barren glared at Datherious. “You know—just in case you try anything.”


“Like jumping off this ship in a raging storm?”


Datherious shrugged. “You never know.”


Barren watched as the twins disappeared from view, preferring to stay warm and safe in their cabin. Even as captain, Barren never left his crew alone on deck in a storm, but he expected no such loyalty from the twins. He set his sights ahead, having the coordinates memorized by heart, and challenged the storm.

“Tie down your cannons! Anything of use to you!” Barren called. “And when you have nothing left to save, save yourselves!” From experience, Barren knew just how merciless nature could be.

The first harsh wave rocked the vessel, and water rushed into the night sky, flooding the deck. The privateers were all frightened, and held onto anything they could for dear life. Never had they seen a storm like this.

The rain came down in thick sheets, coating Barren’s vision. All he could do was keep his arms strong and resist the oceans push and pull. Wave after wave rose to crash upon them. Barren lost his footing and fell to the ground, his wrists straining against the ropes tied to the wheel.

Steadying himself, he focused on the battle again. Before him, he watched a mirage of light converge. He knew somehow that this was the end. If he didn’t get through this, he would have failed, and the Orient would leave them in limbo, lost in the breadth of darkness. As the ship was consumed in light and water, Barren was also—he and all on board. His only consciousness was silence—stark, deafening.

Barren lay there for a moment, his body weak and sore. As he opened his eyes and tried to move, he was overcome with pain. He waited for the spasms to pass before he moved again and made it to his feet, stretching his back. Somehow in all the madness of the storm, he had broken free from the helm, and now red marks surfaced on his wrists. He looked around, and could do nothing but stare.

Before him were hundreds of wrecked ships, jutting out from the Orient and into thick fog. It was a graveyard of wood, sails, and debris. A few of the ships’ masts still rose from the water, tattered flags rippling in the air. Barren shuddered—he remembered this, though it had only been in his nightmares. It unnerved him to see that this was real, and he wondered how many had died in these waters. As he observed the scene, he swore he heard a low, haunting melody. As if ghosts were roaming about him. He didn’t like it.

“Why aren’t we moving?” Datherious demanded, coming out of his cabin. “Where the hell are we?”

Datherious grew quiet as he saw what was around him—there was something silencing about the graveyard—perhaps it was the realization that they could have joined the throngs of sailors resting beneath them.

“This is where we’re supposed to be,” said Barren. “The island must be ahead of us.”

Datherious’s dark eyes fell upon Barren. “Then make this ship move.”

Barren wasn’t even sure if it could. From the looks of it, they had lost most of the crew. Only a few haggard men, Christopher Lee and the twins were on board.

There was barely a breeze, but the few men who were left, freed the sails. They were off to a slow start, which was probably best, as Barren had to cut through a maze of wrecked ships and their ancient debris—it was good he had spent so much time among the Cliffs of Maris. As they crept along, Barren had the haunting feeling that his father had done this very thing.

No one spoke as they passed the graveyard, even Datherious and Natherious remained on deck, staring out at the destruction. The only person who didn’t seem affected was Christopher Lee, and Barren wondered if he was slowly remembering what had taken place all those years ago. He seemed troubled and pained.

Barren peered through the mist as it swirled around them like smoke, looking for any sign of land. It was no use, however. All he could see was a wall of gray.

 “Must’ve been fate that got us through the storm,” said Natherious.

“Yes, but for who?” questioned Lee.

Datherious smirked. “I think you used up your turn when you got here the first time. It’s someone else’s turn now.”

“Do you even know what you are looking for? Or the significance of such an object?”

“A stone composed of dark magic that will give our line invincibility—pretty significant.”

“You think Tetherion wants you to rule?” Christopher laughed. “Tetherion will let no one but himself come into possession of the stone. He has no wish to share power with
you
.”

Datherious’ eyes turned dark—it was a very calm anger, eating away at his irises.

“The stone only makes my father invincible. It does not make him immortal,” Datherious replied curtly.

Shrouded in thick fog, the graveyard seemed to last for an eternity. Barren soon noticed that the amount of debris was lessening, and that the fog was dissipating. The first thing he could make out in the distance was the tall peak of a mountain, then a thick curtain of greenery, and last a white strip of beach. The fog slipped away, and in this state, the island exuded peace and serenity, but Barren had a bad feeling about what lay beyond that shore. As he stared, flashes of his nightmares reeled through his mind. He remembered standing on the sandy beach, staring wide-eyed at the graveyard, and watching his father and William fight.

As Barren and the rest of the twins’ crew prepared to dock, he noticed Datherious growing tense. Now it had come to it—the race. Who would stay and who would go? There were three people on this ship who needed the bloodstone, and all with different intentions.

Barren began moving toward the rail of the ship when a harsh voice cut through the air.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Datherious had turned and stood with his sword drawn. “You don’t get to leave this ship, and neither do you.” He looked at Christopher Lee. “My brother and I are the only two who are going.”

“And how are you even going to find what you’re looking for?” asked Barren.

“It can’t be too hard—it’s a small island, and I will not risk the loss of such a powerful weapon to my enemies,” Datherious said through his teeth. “Get him!”

In response to Datherious’s command, the door of the hatch flew open, and Barren’s crew pushed through. The sounds of battle ensued. Larkin ran for Barren, tossing him his sword. He set his gaze on the twins and lifted his blade. They were already pushing toward the rail of the ship, but before they could make it to the edge, Leaf landed lightly before them, an arrow drawn back on his bow.

Natherious swung at the Elf, and he jumped from his place, landing behind the twins. He used his bow to strike Datherious on the back of the knees. The twin fell and Leaf stood back, drawing his sword. Barren hurried to help.

“Bastard son of an Elf!” Datherious spat, standing on his wobbly legs. “I’ll see to it that your people suffer!”

Datherious charged at Barren, and Natherious at Leaf. Barren attacked fiercely—going for the shoulders, the neck, and the hip—each blow Datherious deflected with a fierce counter. If Barren could keep up the strength, he would do this all day, if only to keep Datherious from coming into possession of the bloodstone. Because if that happened, there was no way they could win.

Over the twin’s shoulder, he saw Larkin jump to the rail. She glanced back at Barren before she dove into the Orient. Barren paid for that distraction as he took a hit to his shoulder. Datherious pushed him back and Barren stumbled and fell. Finally free, Datherious took off for the sea. Barren reached for the twin’s ankle, causing him to fall on his hands and knees. Datherious rolled over, giving out a harsh growl. He swung his blade at Barren, and he was forced to let go of Datherious’s ankle in order avoid the blow.

The twin rose to his feet and brought his sword down upon Barren. At the last minute, he rolled away, and found that Datherious’s blade crash with another. When he got to his feet, he found Hollow standing in his place, sword interlocked with Datherious’s.

“Barren, go!” he commanded as he entered into a fight with the dark twin, a challenging smirk on his face. Barren obeyed and hurried to follow Larkin.

When he hit the water, he felt that he couldn’t swim fast enough. His arms were weak from fighting Datherious so hard, and his body was still stiff from injuries sustained in Estrellas—it had been a couple of days since he’d drunk one of Leaf’s draughts. He was regretting that now.

When he reached shore, he dragged his feet in the sand and paused for a moment, looking about. He’d been here before, but only in his nightmares. William and Jess fought upon this island. This is where William had told him how different they were. Even if all of that had been a nightmare, he knew his father had walked on this shore before, and so had his mother. His eyes shifted to the encroaching forest, and he was overwhelmed with a feeling of loss.

“Barren!” Larkin’s voice snapped him back into reality. “We must hurry!”

He nodded, and together they disappeared into the tall forest.

***

As soon as they were among the trees, everything outside seemed to disappear, and it was as if this forest wasn’t even a part of the peaceful island they had beheld. It was dark; mist floated between the trees—some massive and old, others scraggly and crooked. The ground was uneven; at the very mouth of the forest they could tell it was going to be a tough run. Part of the wood seemed to rise up like a hill, and moss covered rocks dotted the landscape.

Barren drew his sword and began cutting at the long stringy vines that hung down from the dense canopy above; Larkin followed suit. There had to be millions of them, tangled within the thick mass of leaves above. Not only that, but tall stems with thorns grew up from the ground and wrapped themselves around anything within their reach.

“There has to be an easier way through this,” Larkin said, as she shoved vines aside while stepping on a thorn bush. They had managed to make their way up the hill, and now it was steadily declining into a valley—the bottom filled with a dense fog.

Barren shook his head. “We have only to be mindful of our target. The mountain consumes most of this island.” Larkin looked ahead and saw nothing—the lack of visibility made her feel like they’d be stuck here forever. Maybe that was the point of this forest. If one did manage to past the threatening storm, they would get lost here and die. She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

Before diving down into the valley, Larkin looked over her shoulder, fearful that the twins would appear out of nowhere. As she faced forward, she felt the silk of a spider’s web on her face and screamed. Brushing the threads away from her face with fury, she dropped her blade. Barren stared at her for a moment, and then chuckled.

“Really? After everything you’ve gone through—a spider web unravels you?”

“Hush! Look at this place, can you imagine how big the spiders are?” she hissed. Picking up her sword, she continued forward, brushing more invisible webs from her body. She could still hear Barren laughing at her. “You know, you have to be afraid of something. Pirate’s aren’t fearless.”

Barren’s response was only laughter as they continued down the hill. Larkin watched her feet as she moved over the ground. The trees above were deep green, but foliage from years before still littered the forest floor, decaying where it lay, glistening as if it had just rained.

Walking with her head down for the moment, she was unaware that Barren had stopped. He put his hand out, and she came to a halt, looking up slowly. The first thing she noticed was that they had made it to the bottom of the valley, and the mist rose above them like a halo of clouds. It was beautiful and ominous. Next, she noticed a figure before them, and her eyes grew wide.

There, her father appeared—like her and Barren, he was wet, and he held his sword aloft. His stare was cold, and she knew by the way he stood, he would not leave them without a fight. Larkin just wasn’t sure who he wanted at the end of his blade.

“After everything I taught you, this is what you choose? A good for nothing murderer? You disgrace me!”

“You made him a murderer!” Larkin could feel her skin burn and her eyes blaze with anger. It was he who was responsible for creating the monster inside Barren—it had been him all along. “You took his father away—”