Chapter 26, Sarah

  Smoke clings to my tongue. Blood coats my teeth. At first I have no idea where I am or which way is up. But then some instinct tells me the blend of unnameable colors around me is the sky, and the depth of foreign hues below me is the sea.

  I see something pitching in the waves, and if not for that same instinct, I would not recognize it as the ship. The sails are pearlescent like an oil slick, and the wooden planks that make up its body are like the pages of a book. I look at them and see stories. The trees they were born from, the souls who stripped their bark, and shaped them into boards, layered with the experiences of the people who have walked them, shed blood on them, and painstakingly cared for them. I can taste the scent of fear in the sweat of the people who stand on those planks now.

  I’m clutching something warm, with a heart that’s beating. I let go, and it strikes the ship with a life-taking blow. Near where it lands is a body I cannot look away from. Something in it pulls at me, holds me. I perceive heat blooming around its vital organs, hear the rhythmic whoosh of blood pulsing through every vein. And when I look into its golden eyes, something locks into place. They are mine.

  For a moment, there’s no separation between us. A perfect link, forged to close a chain. Power surges through me, boundless and violent. If something moved wrong beneath me, I would shred it to scraps without hesitation. I would fill my lungs with fire and empty them over and over because it is what I do.

  Then suddenly I’m standing on the deck seeing everything through a blistering haze. And the power, it’s still inside me, ripping through me like a thunderstorm trapped in a bottle. It slams against my ribs, tears at every joint, sears every nerve. My muscles seize. My bones feel like they’re breaking.

  Dar, please. Captain Roberts, do something. Make it stop. But the words are trapped inside my head. I’m screaming for her, searching for her. But all I can see is white-hot, scalding light. I try to run but my limbs won’t obey. It’s like I'm being held under in boiling water as the fire eats me alive. I try to endure it, but my legs buckle and I fall like dead weight.

  I can't do it, I can't survive this. Someone please get me out of here. But still my mouth won’t open and I know, I’m the only one who hears my cries. I can’t even cough up the whimpers that are lodged in my throat. I just lie there choking on them, helpless, as the pressure builds.

  Another jolt of pain wracks my nerves as a hand brushes my cheek and cradles my head. It’s meant as kindness, but it’s just another brick on a load I can’t bear.

  Then that touch is gone, and a different body draws near. The smell of her sweat mixed with leather and salt feels like coming up for air. I don’t have the strength to open my eyes, but I know it’s her. An arm slips behind my shoulders, another beneath my legs. The contact is firm, and I want it so badly. Like I’ve wanted it forever without realizing. And as she lifts me, carrying me in her arms, I feel the barbed cords that bind me begin to loosen. Like every second in her embrace pulls another stake from my heart.

  The agony fades into relief and I feel sleep’s insistent pull. Dragging me under with flashes of fractured visions, like foreshadowing of the dreams that await. No. No, let me stay awake.

  But I’m helpless to stop those fractures from becoming whole. And the dream becomes a cruel repeating of everything I thought I’d just been freed from. The dragon, the searing light, the pain, and the slow melting away of it. It ends with her touch, only to begin again. And again.

  Time becomes a haze. Have I been like this for hours? Days? I can’t wake myself, but I notice something that doesn’t belong to the dream. The sound of her footsteps. They come and go, and every time they stop, agony seeps deeper into my bones. But then they return, sometimes with the brush of her fingers on my forehead, or the press of her hand over mine. And I cling to her like a lifeline, afraid that if I let go, I’ll be lost for good.

  The reliving of torment continues. My insides thrashing to escape while the outside of me lies still, like a corpse. Until finally her warm hands cup my cheeks. “Sarah, wake up.”

  I know, I’m trying. I muster all my strength and manage to wiggle my toes. Soft, cool sheets.

  My eyelids open and I’m severed from my frozen state. The afternoon sun fills the room with an auburn glow. I turn my head and see Roberts sitting on the edge of the bed, the sharp lines of her tanned features glistening where her face catches the light. “Where am I?” I rasp.

  She exhales, and the crease in her brow softens. But her brown eyes stare deeply into mine with unwavering focus. “I’ve been wondering the same thing,” she says.

  I take a breath, trying to remember how I got here, but the memory’s slippery. I dig backward, chasing the last thing that felt real. A broomstick. Bruised knuckles.

  “There’s a cow on the ship,” Roberts says, a harried laugh escaping her.

  My chest tightens. “I thought I dreamt that,” I say.

  She moves across the room pacing in quick strides and rubbing her forehead. “Tell me the last thing you remember.”

  “I was dueling with Harken. And then you showed up…” . Remnants of what I endured flicker behind my eyes and I wince, shutting them out. “I had these dreams, that the dragon was here and—”

  “No.” Roberts stops mid-step. “Sarah, that wasn’t a dream. It happened.”

  Another memory flashes into the present. I can smell the sulfur of gunshots before the bullets even leave their chambers as pistols fire from below. I sit up, too fast, head spinning as the room tilts. “What do you mean it happened?”

  Could it be a memory? The way bullets bounced off me, no heavier than raindrops. How it felt to have wings, to fold the wind and fly? No, it isn’t possible. Some part of it must have been a dream. Unless all of it was, and I’m still dreaming, even now.

  I rub my legs against the sheets, making sure I can still move them. Everything feels so real. But then, so did the dreams. A prickling heat spreads across my chest and up my neck. I work a swallow past my dry tongue.

  Roberts fetches a clay bottle, and fills a cup. “I’ll tell you what I can.” She places it in my hands. “But first, take a breath. Have some water.”

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  I take a slow sip, my hands trembling, and wait for her to start talking.

  “You really don’t remember?” she asks, gently dabbing sweat from my forehead with a cloth.

  I stare at her, taking shallow breaths, desperate for her to elaborate.

  “We saw the Dragon, Sarah. It was…” Roberts says. She wets her lips, then presses in close to my face, eyes wide. “It’s bigger than Hellcat! Five times the size of any ship! Gods, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  She presses both hands to her head, blinking slowly. “And the fire breathing!” Her breath catches. “No one will contest you, no one will—” A knock at the door cuts her short.

  “That’s probably Harken,” she says, already moving. “I think you’ll feel better once you eat.”

  The scent of grilled meat hits me as the door opens. My stomach growls. Maybe it's not just shock twisting my insides after all.

  Harken walks in with a tray balanced in his hands. He meets my eyes for half a second longer than usual before giving a stiff nod and handing me a bowl.Then he sits down across from Roberts.

  Neither of them look at me, the three of us are too busy eating. I don’t remember the last time I had such choice cuts of meat. Seared tenderloin with a few pieces of flank sliced perfectly against the grain.

  Harken finally speaks, still chewing. “I posted a guard outside.”

  “Just one?” Roberts asks, pushing food around the bowl.

  “It’s Quill.”

  “Right. I owe you one,” she says.

  “For that and for keeping your history with her to myself when she’s all anyone can talk about right now.” Harken says, his voice low, “you left out the most important detail. How long have you known?”

  I shift my gaze awkwardly between Harken and Roberts, shrinking my body lower into the pillows.

  Roberts sets down her fork. “That ‘relic’ we thought we saw—it was the egg. I saw it hatch when she jumped.”

  “Fucking shit, Dar,” Harken says, snatching up his napkin and smearing it across his face. “How could you keep something like this—”

  “I wasn’t sure what I saw until she told me,” Roberts cuts in. “Even then, I don’t think I believed it until today.”

  Harken gathers the napkin into a clump and lets it fall onto the table between them. “Where did she get it?”

  “Does it matter?” she asks, gazing at him with intent.

  “I’d like to know who we’re up against, yes.” Harken says, voice firm. Then his eyes narrow. “Fuck, this is what you meant when you said you’re not sure if she’s wanted?”

  Roberts shrugs, flipping her palms up on the table. Harken shakes his head, exhaling through the nose.

  “Look, as far as I see it,” she leans in, hands open in an entreating gesture, “we’re not up against anyone we can’t handle. Especially if we have her.”

  “Holy hell.” Harken rubs his eyes, blowing air out his mouth. “This is… fuck. When were you going to tell me that you’ve landed us in the middle of a war?”

  My jaw tightens and my mind reels at his presumption. Who said anything about war?

  “I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” Roberts says.

  “We’re pirates, Dar. We don’t fight in wars, we plunder the wreckage.”

  “All around us is wreckage, and there’s nothing left to plunder! There would be enough for everyone to live a decent life, but King Gerod has had his fucking boot on our necks. We haven’t stood a chance at getting out from under it…” Roberts glances sideways at me. “Until now.”

  I look at Roberts, my eyes widening. Her gaze returns to Harken.

  “I’ve got a plan, Hark.”

  “And since when did you start making plans without us?” Harken hunches forward, bracing his arms against the table.

  “What was I supposed to tell you?” Roberts asks, straightening her spine. “That I think she might be a mythical Queen that’s come to save the world? Would you have believed me?”

  “Come to save it, or burn it?”

  “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” A glint of determination flashes in her eyes. “For this crew to do more than send shares to their families.”

  “Not if we’re all dead.” Harken props an elbow on the table, rubbing his jaw and averting his gaze.

  The moment stretches and there’s a raw edge to Roberts’ voice as she responds. “I know how much you care about this crew, Hark. But we both know it’s about more than that.”

  Harken’s eyes are still lowered, a crease deepening in his brow.

  I almost open my mouth to speak but then I think better of it. No one is asking for my input. I spot my boots on the floor by the bed. I ease the sheet back, careful not to rustle it, and lower my legs over the edge.

  Roberts breaks the silence. “You want to protect this crew? Keep more families from dying in their beds of fever like yours did because the tyrant king lets his people rot?” she says, clenching her fist in front of Harken’s eyes. “Then we tear the corruption out by the roots. We burn it all down. And you saw that dragon’s flame, Hark. We can burn it all.”

  Her words hang heavy in the air. I blink, trying to shake free of her spell, to remind myself that despite my proximity, I’m on the outside of this conversation. Even though the whole plan hinges on me agreeing to an alliance. Maybe joining forces with pirates is a good idea. Roberts glances at me and it’s hard not to give her the answer she wants right now. But I know that’s her effect on me. I need to get myself alone. Focus.

  Tension grips my chest and the food feels heavy in my stomach. If the guards outside are there to keep people out, not in, I might make it back to my quarters without much trouble.

  Harken sighs, long and heavy. “You really think you can get the whole crew to join you in this?”

  I don’t hear what Roberts says next. I try to focus on the words, but it’s like I’m listening from underwater. My eyelids flicker shut and suddenly I’m not in the room anymore.

  I’m out on the deck. The sea beyond is dark beneath a sky dotted with stars. The lanterns that usually burn through the night are unlit, and I’m exquisitely aware of blood squelching under my feet. Swords clash and scrape as shadowed bodies fall around me, the ship groaning beneath the weight of the dead.

  I’m not dreaming, not asleep. More like I’ve become unstuck from the present. But the vivid details, and my heightened senses feel just like what I’ve witnessed before. I look down, the blood seeping into my boots is red, but it’s also rippling like small waves, pulsing with life. And the smell, I can’t get enough of it.

  This can’t be happening again. Remember where you are. The Captain’s room. Stay here. Stay in the present.

  But the flashes keep coming. Someone grabs me from behind, their stench burning my nostrils. One hand locks around my throat, another presses the cold muzzle of a pistol against my temple. They drag me backward with an arm around my waist. Another arm? That’s too many arms.

  My vision wrenches like I’m being yanked in the opposite direction. The arms release their grip and rivers of blood return to the bodies they bled from. Felled forms fall upright, and the deck empties as enemies return to their ship. The vessel shrinks into the horizon as the sky lightens from star streaked black to the pink and purple hues of dusk. I’m standing on the starboard side of Hellcat, looking out toward the horizon and I see the enemy ship just beneath the North Star.

  A wave of nausea smothers my breath. My hands find the edge of the mattress, and then I notice the solid weight of my feet inside my boots. The feeling grounds me, and the sickness ebbs. I’m back in the Captain’s room, bathed in warm afternoon light. We still have time. I stand, the urge to get to the starboard rail undeniable.

  “Woah, woah—where do you think you’re going?” Harken’s voice snaps behind me, and I hear his chair scrape as he stands.

  “Sarah, stop,” Roberts says. “I wouldn’t go—”

  I grab the handle of the door, turn over my shoulder to glance at Roberts. There’s no time. “They’re coming,” I say.