Pieces of Jade (Pirates of Orea) (12 page)

I spent most of my days at the window seat, staring out at the docks. I was sitting there, sipping the tea and reading a book from the small collection left by the previous occupants, when a sail on the horizon caught my eye. A nervous energy twirled through me and I snapped the book closed. I had seen many ships coming in and out of port during my second week there, but the silhouette of this particular ship was etched forever in my mind. I would recognize it anywhere, even without its broken-manacle flag. The color had changed and the sailcloth replaced, but I knew it was the same ship.

I gulped down the remaining tea. It was hot and burned my throat but I barely noticed. I hurried to my room and dug into my pack for the men’s clothes Aleah had purchased specifically for this occasion. Their simple fabric and dreary color would help me blend in with the dockworkers as I moved through town and toward the ship.

I fumbled with the clothing, the buttons being on the wrong side. Once dressed, I moved to the mirror, curious to see how the disguise looked in its entirety. To
Aleah’s credit, it was perfect. No trace of the young girl remained. Even my femininity was gone, thanks to the fabric that bound my bosom. Jade, who once lived in a castle, no longer existed. I touched my mirrored image as I said goodbye to her, letting that part of me fade. The Jade I had been died in her flight from the kingdom. This new woman had been born in the Wastelands amid a solitary field of sorrow-laced blooms.

After packing my belongings, including the herbs from
Aleah, I gathered my brittle, gray hair under a cap. I gave Aleah a final hug–along with my thanks–and started on my way. I kept pausing, checking over my shoulder, feeling like I was being followed, but I never saw anyone. By the time I made it to the docks, the ship had anchored. I stood in an alley that reeked of urine and spoiled food. The stench overpowering, I breathed as little as possible, waiting with my pulse racing for the moment to put my plan into action.

I had imagined seeing the ship up close would be like facing a monstrous beast, but I hadn’t known it would feel so unbearable. Walking on that ship would be like reliving my worst nightmare. Just standing in its shadows brought horrible memories to my mind: the rusty smell of
August’s blood, the warmth of it on my hands, his accusing eyes. I didn’t expect the flashbacks or nausea that I had to force back down my throat or the anxiety so strong it was almost a physical presence chaining me to the ground.

I repeated my plan in my mind. Get on, find the medallion, and then get off. I wouldn’t have to be there long, only a matter of minutes. I wouldn’t be trapped at the whims of the horrible man that captained the ship while he threatened those I loved. I bit my lip hard, not allowing the terror I felt to transform into tears.

Could I really board that ship again? The dread in my stomach said no but the vision of Pearl awaiting to die in my place changed my answer. I had to do it. I knew Pearl would do it for me. I took a steadying breath, repeating the simple steps I had to accomplish. When my panic at last was contained, I forced myself toward the dock.

Men scrambled to load the stacks of supplies waiting by the ship, and I slipped in with the crew, unnoticed. I picked up a bag of what felt like flour and heaved it to my shoulder. It was heavier than it looked and I stumbled under its weight but followed the other crewmembers up the walk. At the top of the gangplank, a finely dressed man stood with a parchment for each man to sign as he came aboard. The dandy might have been mistaken for a member of the royal family with the elegant clothes he wore. Without looking at me, he handed me the quill and held out his list. Most of the paper was covered with
x’s so I left an x too.

The moment my foot touched the ship’s wooden deck my chest constricted, my head felt light and my knees trembled. It must have been fear that caused my strange
reaction, so intense it felt almost like a spell. No, it could only be fear. Fear of failure. Fear of discovery. Fear of being caught by these men, left at the mercy of their whims, until they chose to kill me. All roads seemed to lead to my death. I didn’t cringe this time. Death and I were beginning to understand one another. We had an appointment that was rapidly approaching.

I forced my feet to move and followed the line until I was able to drop off my load. I headed across the deck and made my way down the stairs. There were too many men in the passageway for me to check the captain’s quarters. I decided to start searching in other areas of the ship until the area in front of his chamber cleared.

I started at the aft of the ship looking for boxes or coffers where the captain might hide away trophies from his plundering. I found one chest filled with jewels and gold pieces, but not my medallion. It seemed odd that these treasures were so easily in reach of any of the crew with no one standing guard.

After searching what felt like the hundredth trunk, I closed the lid, and rolled my stiff neck, taking in for the first time the immense size of the ship. My medallion was small. There were far too many places it could be hidden here, if they still even had it aboard. What if they didn’t? Had this all been for nothing? I pushed aside that horrible thought and kept looking. I spied another promising box when the whole ship jostled and I fell into the wall. Another jolt landed me on my behind. I stood up, wiping dirt from my posterior when voices drifted down the corridor to me. I slunk behind a box, afraid of being discovered.

“That was a waste of a port visit,” a young voice complained. “We didn’t even get to step off the ship.”

“With the navy looking high and low for us?” came the gruff reply. “Thank the North Star William had the supplies ready for us. I for one couldn’t breathe until we had William aboard so we could cast off and get away from that port.”

My hand flew to my mouth to stifle the gasp threatening to escape.

Away from port?
Oh no!

I scrambled to the deck, hurrying as fast as my potion-aged legs would carry me, not caring that I shoved several pirates out of the way. My chest heaved, wheezing for air, and my heart plummeted to my feet at what I found. We were a good distance from the dock and my tightly contained fear exploded inside me. Without thinking, I climbed onto the railing and tried to leap off but was stopped by an invisible wall, like a giant fishnet that I couldn’t see strung up just beyond the railing. Panicked, I retreated a few steps and tried to dive through, only to be flung back, crashing to the deck.

Dazed, I stared up into the blue sky. My body throbbed and terror made my stomach twist. My nightmare had become a reality. I was trapped here with these men; there was no James this time to take me away with him. Just thinking his name reminded me how I ended up here and my breath stuttered in my chest. I pushed past my panic, fear, anger, and resentment. This wasn’t about me. I had come here to save my sister and in my cowardice I had almost deserted her to face the fate meant for me by fleeing without the medallion in hand.

I banged my head against the wood beneath me, trying to focus. I was out to sea, sailing to who knew where, and I was stuck. I couldn’t do anything about being a hostage here, or even about what port I might find myself in next, but I could use my captive time to cover every inch of this cursed vessel and find the medallion.

A shadow fell over me. I turned to my side clutching my cap and hiding my face behind my bent elbows. Maybe he wouldn’t notice that I didn’t belong here. Maybe he wouldn’t notice that I was a woman. Maybe he would just go away.

“You there, what are
ya doing?” the shadow asked. “Trying to desert, boy? Didn’t ya know signing your name on the register magically sealed you to this ship? Only the cap’n can let you off now.”

So much for hoping.
When was I going to stop with that useless emotion? After all, I lay there, unable to speak, felled by a scrawled x and a spell. I was at the mercy of pirates because of a single letter and my own magical incompetence. If I had remembered my magical training with the Guardians better, I might have considered the ramifications of signing anything. Instead, I had a brain filled with incantations I could never make work, and little knowledge of other ways to cast a spell. I hated magic.

“What have
ya got to say?” He grabbed my shoulders and dragged me to my feet, mumbling something about respecting my betters. The violent motions caused my cap to fall and my grizzled hair tumbled down around my shoulders. The stocky man holding me smelled of stale spirits and looked as though he could rip a cow in half. His eyes widened as he took in my appearance, clearly realizing I was not the boy he had mistaken me for. His yellowed teeth parted in a look of mingled surprise and horror. “Captain!” he roared, clenching my elbow in his chapped hands and dragging me toward the helm.

“Captain!” he yelled again.

My mind caught up with his words and I stumbled when I realized who he was taking me to.

“No! No, no, no,” I begged struggling against his hold.

It felt like I had been turned to stone at the sound of the familiar voice behind the wheel. “What?”

“We have a problem,” he replied simply, shoving me toward the captain. I tripped over my own feet and fell on my knees like a beggar. I couldn’t bring myself to look into those eyes, the eyes that had ended my old life. I had to think, to figure out a way out of this, and I was afraid if I looked into his face I would try to kill him, leaving my sister to her fate when his crew returned the favor.

I hadn't prepared myself for this. I had expected to find the medallion quickly and leave. Yes, I’d daydreamed about punching him a few times, and I’d even threatened to kill him, but I hadn’t really planned on seeing the man who had set everything into motion. I concentrated on the worn brown boots standing in front of me and bit down on my lip.

“It’s a woman,” the yellow-tooth man said.

The brown boots rocked back on their heels. “I can see that,” the captain snapped. “What I can’t see is how this happened.” The crew shifted around and I could feel their nervous energy as if they were all afraid of being singled out to take the blame. “Petey, you were the one keeping watch. Explain this.”

I glimpsed at the beefy man who stepped forward looking as angry, dangerous, and intimidating as any pirate cliché I could have imagined. “No one snuck aboard the Promise, sir. I made sure of that myself.”

“And yet she's here,” the captain said, gesturing to me. His hand whipped down and roughly jerked my chin toward him, making me look into his perfect face, his blue eyes scrutinizing me. My anger erupted inside of me, my throat burning with unspoken words, my hands aching to encircle his throat. When he leaned in closer to me, I bit my tongue hard enough to taste blood and clenched my hands together.

Then I spit in his face. It hit him on the cheek and he recoiled, eyes wide with surprise. I expected to be slapped for my insolence but instead the captain laughed and wiped away the spittle.

“Well men, she may old, but she’s also feisty.” The men laughed with him and my temper blazed hotter, but I forced it down. He turned to face me again. “How did you sneak aboard? Are you so desperate for free passage? We usually throw stowaways overboard when we’re this close to shore.”

“She can’t leave the ship Cap’. I saw her try.”

“Did she now?” He turned to face the elegantly dressed man. “Thomas, she must have slipped by under your watch.”

Thomas straightened the ruffle on his sleeve. “I seem to remember him . . . her making her mark. She helped carry aboard supplies.”

“Indeed?” The captain spun toward me again “So you joined our crew only to try to escape. Why?” He stepped closer to me.

I remained silent.

“What do you know of our other stowaway?”

My confusion must have shown on my face because his frown deepened. “Not with you, huh?”

Again I remained silent, this time because I had nothing to add.

He folded his hands behind his back. “A mystery then.”

“Captain, it doesn’t matter why she’s here, she can’t stay,” someone called out. “She's a
woman!
”

“Bad luck!” someone else agreed.

“That’s true.” The captain nodded. “Very true.”

The crew erupted into louder protests about my being aboard and the captain held up his hand to silence them. The cacophony died and he began to circle me.

“A woman,” he said to himself. “Blast it! And blast
you
for threatening our streak of good luck!”

“Captain,” Thomas chimed in, “I seem to remember that there are one or two circumstances in which having a woman aboard is not considered unlucky.
A
married
woman, for instance. Or a widow.”

“Indeed?”

“Aye, sir. They’re a troublesome bother, being women, but they’re not unlucky. I seem to recall that Captain Stewart of the Sentinel considered his widowed mother his good luck charm.”

The captain’s eyes lit with hope when he turned back to study me. “Very well. Tell me, are you now, or have you ever been married?”

I shook my head and bit my tongue to keep my temper in check. No, I had never been married, thanks to him. Because of him I’d killed my fiancé. On the day of my wedding, instead of wearing a white dress I’d been scheduled to don a noose. Instead of a father walking me down the aisle I’d been dragged to a cell by armed guards. When I should have been pronounced a bride by a man of the cloth, I’d been declared a criminal by the man I loved. My teeth ground together and I could taste blood in my mouth.