Cutlass (42 page)

As the pain grew, Barren held their lips tight. The edges of the stone pierced their skin as it began to crack, pulsing with life. The light grew brighter, and the stone hotter—it fueled the passion of their lips, the heat of their skin, until they could no longer stand. They crashed to the ground, barely conscious, hands still tightly intertwined. Though the light was blinding, they managed to open their eyes and glimpse each other—it was the most vulnerable either of them had been, the weakest they had felt…but the most redeeming decision they had made. And then everything went dark.

Barren had a feeling he had been here before—it was a bright courtyard. All around them was greenery and in the distance he could hear water bubbling—he recognized this place as Aurum. Sitting on a stone bench were two very opposite looking people. One was a woman dressed in a white gown. Upon her head was an intricate headdress of silver and glass beads. Her hair was golden, streaked with near-white strands; it fell in layers down her back. Her skin was milky white against that of the bronzed man she smiled at. He was dressed in brown tones and wore muddy black boots. A leather hat covered oily blond hair, but his smile was just as bright as hers.

He knew them. They were his mother and father. They were images of perfection and they were bright and happy and…in love. Barren wasn’t sure why, but his heart swelled at the idea—he knew this was real.

Just as easily as Barren saw their images, they were gone and his body was being shaken. He opened his eyes, and the blurry image of Cove Rowell was over him.

“Barren! Barren! I swear to Saoirse if you don’t wake up, I’ll kill you!”

“Leave it to him to be sleeping on the job,” he heard Leaf add.

Barren pushed Cove’s hands away. “I’m awake!” he growled, but his hands felt rough and hot and his head hurt. He sat there for a moment, recalling what had happened before he fell unconscious. All he could remember was blood and fire…and then the clear image of his parents.

Suddenly he looked around for the compass. “Where is it?”

“Where is what?” asked Cove. He stood up straight, his arms folded over his chest.

Barren was on his hands and knees. A few feet before him, he saw the compass. He reached, grasping the long gold chain in his hand and he turned it over quickly. Ash blackened where the raw red stone had been. Relief flooded him—they had succeeded, but just as suddenly as he felt relief, it was replaced by dread. They had succeeded, they had lived…so what oath had dark magic bound them to?

Barren turned the compass over and stared at its face. The needle bounded back and forth. It was broken. He placed the chain around his neck and hid the pendant under his shirt.

He looked up at Cove whose brow was raised in question, but he said nothing as he extended his hand to the pirate and helped him to his feet.

“What happened?” asked Barren, looking around.

The room looked nothing like he remembered. Before it had been dark and cold, and now it was alight with the day—all the windows were uncovered, and streaming rays illuminated dusty particles in the air. Parts of the wall were blackened, and smoke still rose from the marks, as if something had scorched them. The raised pyre was still there, only it had been concealed by a velvet cover, so that the body resting inside had peace.

“You tell us,” said Cove. “We found you and Larkin sprawled on the ground, and thought you were dead. You both had pieces of glass stuck in your skin. If you look at the walls you can see where the hot shards burned into the stone.”

Barren started to touch his face, but Leaf slapped his hand away.

“You’ll irritate the burns,” he said. “It could have been worse. The shards could have been bigger, pierced your eye or your heart.”

Barren rubbed the back of his neck.

“You sure you’re all right?” asked Cove.

“Yeah, I am fine,” Barren said lightly. “Where are the twins?”

“The twins and Christopher are being watched by Alex and Devon.”

“Christopher? He’s all right?” Barren was sure he wouldn’t see Christopher again, not after that snake carried him off.

“Yes, as far as we could tell. We came upon him in the forest, chopping a giant snake to pieces. I think he was scared out of his wits, because he let us take him hostage. He didn’t demand that we let him go. He only asked for Larkin.”

Barren’s heart picked up pace. “Where is Larkin?”

“She is in the courtyard below. She found it earlier and hasn’t left since.”

Barren was about to move past Cove when the Ambassador stopped him and nodded toward William’s body. “Did you?”

“No,” Barren shook his head, and gave his brother a remorseful stare. “No, I didn’t.”

Cove nodded his head once in understanding and let Barren leave the throne room.

It took Barren some time to find the courtyard Cove had spoken of. He’d ambled down the halls of the Lyric castle, watching as the dust danced in the air, and the sunlight tarnished the walls. He could no longer feel the intense pull of the bloodstone calling to him, but there was still magic here. He almost hated that he could feel it.

At last, he came to the end of a hall that opened onto a wide terrace. Here, Barren stood before magnificence. Mountains rose in tall peaks and the clouds seemed to be only a few feet from him; their backdrop was a bright blue sky. The courtyard that rested before him was filled with yellowed grass. Images of what it had once been were still visible—tall stone arches made a walkway into the yard, and pieces of the same stone fashioned ruined monuments. One of those monuments, a woman with her hands over her heart, peered back at Barren from the entryway.

He stepped outside into the sunlight, and was overcome with a variety of smells—that of crisp, cold air, and decay. As he moved along, examining every inch of what used to be his mother’s home, he wondered what it had looked like before it fell to ruin.

At last he found the figure he was searching for. In the distance, he saw Larkin’s back. She was hunched before a piece of stone, her legs drawn up and her chin resting on her knees. He approached her carefully, watching as her hair twisted in the wind. He stood beside her; his shadow crossed a gravestone marked with her mother’s name. Larkin didn’t look up at him, and he knew why—he could hear her quiet sobs as she tried desperately to wipe her tears away.

Barren bent to his knees and sat beside her, pulling her into his arms and soothing her uncontrollable tears.

“I’m sorry,” she choked. “I have never cried over her before.”

“I understand.”

Barren held her until the sun dimmed, and the clouds above grew a little darker. She pulled away, wiping more tears from her puffy eyes. He could see the marks on her face where the shards of the gem had burned her skin. He wanted to reach up and touch them, brush them away and forget that he had dragged her into this life…but without her, none of this—this triumph, this heartache, this hope—would be possible.

“I found her,” she said, gesturing toward the stone. “I didn’t think she was here. I’m so glad she is.”

Barren nodded. “Me too.”

They both looked at the stone. “I’m sorry about your brother,” she said at last. “I couldn’t let him kill you. It’s ironic that I would be the one to deal the deadly blow when I protested his death so feverishly.”

“It was not your fault, Larkin, and for all that it’s worth, I am glad you were there to save my life,” he paused for a moment and chuckled. “I think we’re two for two now.”

She smiled faintly, still fighting tears.

“Will you stay with me?” Barren asked so suddenly, the question surprising him, too.

“What?” she asked. He studied her face—her lips parted, and her hair stuck to her wet cheeks, but her tears paused for a moment.

“Will you stay with me? Will you sail the Orient with me?” he began to clarify. “I know a pirate’s life isn’t glamorous, and I cannot always offer you the best protection, but you can take care of yourself, and…” his voice faltered as he began to ramble and he exhaled sharply. “Please stay.”

Larkin laughed, and then rubbed her face. “Yes,” she nodded her head. “Yes, of course I’ll stay. Oh!”

She threw her arms around him, and they tumbled into the yellow grass. Barren wrapped his arms around her, grateful that they had survived everything. Grateful that, after this long and arduous road, he still managed to have Larkin by his side, even if she had been the most difficult female he had ever encountered.

***

William’s body rested in the dinghy comfortably, though the look on his face was not one of peace. The more Barren observed his dead brother, the more he wished he had spent the last few years doing something other than seeking revenge for his father’s murder. If only he had known then what he knew now—that this would not bring peace, only heartache and a deep wish that nothing had ever come between them.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to see Leaf.

“Do not burden yourself with the way things could have been,” he said. “He’s in the otherworld now. That is the ultimate form of Saoirse.”

Of all people, Leaf knew that best. Barren nodded and then moved to the head of the boat. Together, he and Cove pushed the dinghy into the Orient’s waters. She rushed forward and grasped the ship with all her strength and propelled him along.

Leaf stood with his bow and arrow. Alex dabbed a few drops of oil onto a piece of cloth and tied it to the Elf’s arrow while Hollow sparked flint against a stone. The flaming arrow was released into the air and landed with ease in the bed of hay where William rested. Flames erupted and consumed William’s body. The pirates stared as the boat was taken away over the horizon. William would sleep eternally where he belonged—with the sea.

***

Barren walked the length of the deck, watching as his crew worked—Slay labored up the tall mast, heading for the crow’s nest, Seamus inspected cannons and ammunition, Sam took the helm, and Leaf checked the sails. Cove, Hollow and his crew had taken on the duties of the twins, who remained below deck with Christopher, chained to the wall. Alex had pulled himself up on a barrel and removed the wooden peg from the end of his leg all while reminiscing with Devon and Em.

Barren came to the back of the ship, his eyes taking in the waning image of the island they had labored to reach. He almost felt that he was leaving a piece of himself behind. It was strange to have felt the power of the bloodstone call out to him, strange to feel it pulse in his hands—and now all that had faded, and what it left behind was a surprising emptiness.

“The name is D’Avana,” Devon’s voice rasped.

Barren turned to face the old man. Em was at his side. They were both watching the last bit of mountain disappear at the horizon.

“D’Avana?” asked Barren.

“The island of light and dust,” said Em.

Light and dust
. Barren had heard that before—from Illiana. She’d said she was of light and dust.

“Do you remember everything?”

Devon shook his head. “No, but I will let time give me back my memory—I am not too eager to remember the folly of my past.”

“How many were there? How many Elves were like my mother?”

Devon shrugged. “I do not know, but if I were an Elf with the power that the Lyrics possessed, I would not tell a soul. It comes with too many responsibilities, too many expectations.”

Em smiled at Barren, then she and Devon moved away from him. He turned his gaze to the horizon again. He hadn’t thought about the prospect of there being more than three Lyrics. If no one knew exactly how many there were, how could anyone truly know if they were all dead? They’d already been wrong once. The thought bothered him more than he liked, and he pushed it away quickly.

Larkin approached and filled the space beside him. She didn’t speak, but Barren could feel the tension rise between them and knew she had something to say.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she leaned over the rail as if to get a better look at the Orient. At first Barren thought she would express more grief about William’s death, but the conversation took a different turn.

“I saw my mother,” she said.

“I saw my parents, too.”

“You know what was strange?” she asked, staring at him. “I saw my father, too. It was an image of them together. They were happy. They loved each other, Barren.”

Barren understood—Tetherion’s words had been that they had used the Lyrics to gain what they wanted, disregarding all attachment easily.

“My father is going along with a lie and I don’t know why.”

 “Perhaps he fears losing his title. Without his status, he has only one option: to become the thing he hates most in the world—a pirate.”

“He did not mind that once,” she said quietly.

“Then I’m not sure.” Barren couldn’t give her any more excuses for her father. “You can ask him.”

She shook her head. “He will tell me nothing. In his eyes, I have chosen a side.”

“Haven’t you?”

She smiled, but it was a wistful smile. “I hope we are not always divided by sides,” she said. “But, yes, I suppose for now I have chosen Saoirse.”

***