Belle and the Pirate Page 6

  Gods, she was adorable. He watched a while longer before resuming his current novel, an epic fantasy told by a Liangese author held in renown. Sometimes the story made him long for life on land away from the high seas. Years had passed since he’d had solid ground beneath his feet that wasn’t the Wai Alei islands or the desert coastline of Samahara.

  After a few pages, James tilted his head back and shut his eyes. He allowed himself to fantasize about the dream life he’d have when he retired from plundering Ridaeron’s ships. A small cottage in the hills, a farm, and a beautiful family. He’d always intended to retire to own his own vineyard, but that had lost its allure.

  “I wonder if your kind have families,” he mused aloud. “Is there a little husband waiting at home for you? Children?”

  He sighed and cracked open one eye to see the creature peeking back at him over the edge of the ship. “You probably don’t even know what I’m talking about, do you? Ah well. I should have had a family by now, but it seems I am married to the ship. This is my life. My family. But it’s lonely, you know. I have friends, but no one I can be open with. No woman to enfold me in her arms and make me forget the burdens of my job. And not much of a friend anymore, either. Though that’s a childish outlook to have, isn’t it? Nigel is here. Merely occupied with chasing a woman.”

  He hadn’t gotten much reading done. Sometimes he imagined when he spoke to her, that she was chatting back. That she even understood him.

  “A rather fine woman, I must say. But, as captain, it wouldn’t do for me to get involved with anyone on board. Smee thinks I should ask Tiger Lily for her consideration, and the idea has merit, but… I don’t think I could ever love her. Not as she deserves.”

  He rambled on, talking more than he read and finding catharsis in the act of getting his worries off his chest. Laying himself bare before a woman who stood no more than three inches tall. “I suppose the island life isn’t for me either.” No, he missed the snowy mountains of Eisland too much for the tropical archipelago to seduce him. “I’ll probably die on the Jolly Roger one day… as is right. The captain should always go down with his ship, and we’ll never manage to keep at this forever.”

  Weariness crept into his limbs and mind. He’d overeaten and become too warm and comfortable. A part of him knew he should try and put his little friend away, for her own safety, but the thought slipped away from him as exhaustion took its toll.

  * * *

  A heavy fist thumped against the door, startling James awake. He jerked upright with his book clutched against his chest before Nigel shoved it open.

  “James, you’ve got mail.”

  “You awakened me for mail?”

  “Important mail.” Nigel held it up, revealing the scarlet thread binding it. “It’s from the Twilight Witch.”

  Ziiiiip! A bright ball of crimson light flashed past the two men, streaking for the door. Belle buzzed into the sunlight and drifted up on a salty breeze above the pirates on the deck.

  James bolted from the couch and rushed after her. He shouldered Nigel aside, slamming his friend into the wall beside the door in his haste to sprint onto the wooden deck. His bare feet slapped over the rough wood, and adrenaline pounded through his veins. Her shrill tinkling carried to him despite the wind flapping against the sails.

  “Don’t just stand there, you numbskulls,” James snapped at the paralyzed crew as she flew up the mast to the sails.

  “What should we do, Cap’n?”

  “Catch her!”

  There was a man in the crow’s nest, but he doubted Cillian had a net to catch their little friend. First and foremost, her safety came to mind. He’d have to drop anchor—have to lure her back. She did love cheese, after all, as he’d discovered the previous night.

  Cupping both hands around his mouth, he shouted up to her, “Come down, little one! It isn’t safe.”

  As he tried to call her back to him, men scaled the rigging with fishnets clenched between their teeth. One came near enough to sweep at her, but she evaded him by performing a dizzying spin.

  “Ow! She bit me!”

  “She does that,” James muttered under his breath. He considered joining them, but he never climbed without the benefit of ample time, lest he become tangled by rushing, or worse, compromise them with his hook.

  Damned croc. The beast’s actions were always coming back to bite him in the arse. Above him, Belle zipped around the others with movements too erratic and swift for them to anticipate.

  When it appeared the situation couldn’t get worse, a sea hawk soared into view above them, its enormous body a black silhouette against the blue, cloudless sky. The predator screamed and fell into a dive toward James’s little golden bell, talons outstretched toward the glowing prize.

  He had only a second to act, and a single shot to make it. As the hawk swooped down, James drew his pistol and aimed. The slug tore into the raptor’s wing and took it from the air with a fierce report. Blood splashed against the deck as the bird thumped down and flopped in its death throes. Its thrashing wings left crimson smears against wood.

  His little friend flew past him, enveloped in a gloomy black haze, the very opposite of her usual glow. She disappeared through the door to his cabin.

  Thank the gods. She recognized safety at least.

  “Someone put the poor bird out of its misery and give it to Cook,” he barked over a shoulder before ducking into the cabin. He shut the door behind him. “Little one?”

  A subdued tinkle reached him from the cage, startling him since she’d been so happy to have freedom to explore the previous night. More than anything, he blamed himself. He’d fallen asleep with her roaming free and nearly gotten her killed.

  “Stupid,” he growled before kneeling beside the dollhouse, overcome with remorse for his failings. “My foolishness put you in harm’s way. I wouldn’t blame you if you never came out again.”

  And maybe she wouldn’t, although he’d hoped to gain her trust.

  With one finger, he drew back the privacy curtain to reveal a small bedroom decorated in floral colors. She’d sprawled across the top of a plush, canopied bed where she wept facedown across the silk comforter, appearing more human by the second.

  “I’m sorry,” he continued in his gentle voice, before stroking down the middle of her back between both wings. She had wings like a butterfly, and it was easier to appreciate their beauty when she was still, although he would have preferred to touch her when she wasn’t prostrate with fear. “I should have kept you safe, but I promise I will from now on.”

  After another gentle stroke, he withdrew his hand and sighed. Nigel had stepped into the room and shut the door behind him, appearing reticent.

  “Sorry, mate. I hadn’t realized she was out of the cage when I barged in. You never let her out.”

  “I thought I’d give it a go last night. I hadn’t intended to fall asleep as I did with her roaming free.” He rubbed the back of his neck and slumped his shoulders. Her sad little chimes closed a fist around his guilty heart.

  “Still, I feel awful for it.”

  “It wasn’t your fault at all, and the damage is done. Now, I suppose we should get back to business. You said there was a letter? Go ahead and open it up. What does Captain Vandry have to say this time? I swear that woman has it out for me.”

  Nigel chuckled and broke the seal. “Maybe she’s after your body, my friend.”

  After shutting and locking the cage door, James ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. Nearly losing his tiny lady had awakened him in a way that no amount of Samaharan coffee ever could. “That would be a pleasant change,” he muttered. “Could you imagine her attempting to seduce anyone? Barking orders for her lover to disrobe while leering at them with that one eye of hers and...” Nigel hadn’t spoken again, staring down at the letter in his hands. “What is it?”

  “Eisland has declared open season on all pirates... some sort of new weapon. They’ve sunk two ships in the past fortnight.”

/>   “What?” Nigel may as well have dumped ice water on his improving mood. “What sort of weapon? Which ships?”

  Of all the kingdoms, Eisland had the most formidable navy, with over a hundred ships at its command. Ridaeron was a close match, while the kingdoms west of the Viridian Sea had little maritime presence beyond their fishing and merchant vessels sailing close to the shore.

  “The Black Opal and the Broken Oath are both gone. No survivors from either crew.”

  “If there isn’t a bloody survivor, how does she know what happened?”

  “The Twilight Witch was there and escaped on account of Captain Vandry’s magical prowess,” Nigel said. “Apparently Blackbeard came upon an exchange, a meeting of sorts between the three. The Twilight Witch had just pulled anchor, but the others… How in the nine hells did he manage that one, though?”

  Nigel read too slowly for James’s patience, however, so he strode across the room and snatched the letter in his good hand. Reading the details didn’t help. It just sickened him, his belly plummeting to the ground. “A magical shipkiller. How in this world did they acquire such a monstrosity?”

  “No idea.” Nigel looked as shaken as James felt, his face pale. “Creag Morden, perhaps? Last word from home was that, even though they didn’t arrange a marriage between the two kingdoms, they still arranged trade terms. Isn’t that magical academy within their borders?”

  “The Collegium? Aye, it sits on the northern coast. Avalon Bay, they call it. Our original sails were commissioned from the charm spinner of their finest enchanting school.”

  “That’s where the prince went, isn’t it? I always thought that was odd.”

  “The Collegium is neutral territory and not actually a part of Creag Morden.”

  “So... they could be working with Eisland then,” Nigel surmised.

  “It’s possible. This changes nothing, however. It only means we’ve got to remain one step ahead of them. Regardless of the weapon in their possession, they wouldn’t come within fifty leagues of Neverland.” Few ships risked it without invitation, fearing the wrath of the sea witch who lurked in the island’s cerulean waters.

  “I don’t know, James. A magical weapon could be a match for a serpent. We should let Tiger Lily know right away. Maybe... maybe even approach the sea witch directly to warn her, or better yet, ask for her assistance.”

  “We’ve relied on her in the past too much.”

  “And she’s kept us all alive,” Nigel replied.

  Damn. He had a point. He conceded to Nigel’s good advice, tipping his head. “I’ll write to the others and find out what they’ve heard. Tell Little Wolf we need the wind with us.”

  James spent much of the day on the deck afterward to command the crew and navigate. Although he did worry about his gentle creature, he had no time to tend to her when he had the welfare of an entire ship to consider as well.

  * * *

  No escape. She was on a ship in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by pirates and sprite-eating birds. Each shuddering sob shook fairy dust from her golden wings onto the velvet square of gold-trimmed ivory blanket covering her miniature bed.

  Long after the two big people left, her heart continued to thunder in her chest. She’d never come so close to death before, even during the Battle of Mount Kinros when she’d helped remove the injured and fallen from the field.

  On and off, her mood flipped from terror to despair, and back again, before finally settling into a deep and profound depression. Even if James did return to feed her, she’d have had no appetite for it.

  Where was he? What had happened? Sometime during the afternoon, fear for herself became concern for her pirate friend. He’d received terrible, terrifying news, and she’d been too wrapped in her own worries to even notice.

  He came in hours later than usual and retired to the privy. While she was accustomed to pipeline water and pumps in Cairn Ocland, she hadn’t expected to see it on a ship. When he finally emerged in clean breeches—she’d noticed he always remained dressed, no matter what—her cage was his first stop. He wore his black hair damp around his shoulders, and he shrugged into another shirt on his way to meet her.

  “Forgive me, I should have checked on you earlier,” he murmured.

  Without promises or bribes to coax her from the cage, James opened her door and stepped back, allowing her the freedom to choose whether she wanted to remain or wander out. Tink thought it over for a moment before she darted out and crashed straight into his chest. The pirate startled back, but she dug her fingers into his shirt and clutched him tight, hugging him the only way she could.

  “Well now…” The tender touch of his index finger slid down the center of her spine, sending shivers through her body unrelated to panic. “I’m happy to see you, too. Don’t be afraid. No one will come in unannounced anymore, and a sea hawk would have to pass through me to frighten you again.”

  She believed him, certain he would protect her from anything.

  While she clung like a burr, James retreated to his favorite reading spot. The placid thump of his heart lulled her into a state of peace. She listened to the serene rhythm with a fistful of his shirt in one hand until he propped a book on his lap.

  He’d been reading the same tome for three nights. Too inquisitive for her own good, she dried her face and twisted around to investigate his novel. It was a thick tome of bound leather in caramel brown with a single ribbon dangling from it. And the print consisted of hundreds of tiny little letters in black ink, each one perfect and identical. It must have been created by a machine. Cairn Ocland books were written by hand.

  “Hmm? Curious, are you? It’s a tale about two women on the run from shadow assassins.”

  “It looks boring,” she complained. Then again, she didn’t like reading, since a single page resembled a mountain of words, overwhelming her with the sheer volume of text on each sheet. And there wasn’t a single picture. Kendric’s books all had colorful images accompanied by a few sentences in large print, easily read without her scanning an entire page.

  Curiosity sated, she fluttered over to the table and looked forlornly at the empty space. James twisted in his seat to follow her path with his gaze and smiled.

  “Don’t worry, Belle, Cook will send over a meal shortly. I asked her not to send any of the sea hawk, though… I wonder about your clothes. Maybe you’d like the cleaned feathers.”

  “I’ve never had a feather dress before. I suppose it could be nice. And new. It would be fun to make something again,” she mused.

  As promised, it wasn’t long before there was a knock on the door. Tink hurried back to her cage and peered out from the bars while James answered. Eliza waited with a covered tray.

  “How is she?”

  “Better I think, thank you,” James replied. “She darted into hiding the moment you knocked on the door, and for good reason.”

  “You let her out again?” Eliza’s brows rose, and she leaned in, peering over at the cage.

  “She’ll never learn to trust me if I keep her locked up. Everyone knows to knock now, so we’ll see how it goes.”

  “Let me know if you need any help, James. G’night.”

  “Goodnight, Eliza. Oh, ask your mother to set aside some of the feathers for me, will you? Or if she’s already given them all to Little Wolf, tell him I’d like a handful.”

  “All right. Enjoy the meal.”

  Once Eliza pulled the door shut behind her, James unveiled the sumptuous dinner brought to the square, four-seated table. Trusting him to guard her from dangerous monster birds, Tink hurried to join him across the room.

  “Hungry?” He looked down at her and smiled. “Me as well.”

  James set out a little saucer for her and portioned out small selections from his plate. Tink’s tummy grumbled. Instead of a cork cup, a thimble had been set out on the tray for her. It wasn’t her golden plate and perfectly sized silverware from back home, but the gesture deserved appreciation all the same.

  Th
ey ate in companionable silence, and James never once uttered a complaint when she stole additional servings. At the conclusion of their meal, he stacked their empty dishes, set them outside the cabin on the floor, and removed his hook to place it on a case by the bed as part of his evening ritual.

  “I do believe I’ll enjoy the rest of my reading in bed, but you are free to explore my cabin in safety. Nothing here will harm you. In fact, you’re welcome to join me if you like,” he said, beckoning her with his left hand.

  How could she possibly resist such a heartfelt offer?

  Her kind host crawled beneath the sheets with his boring novel and read, murmuring the words in his clear and velvet voice while she listened on the adjacent pillow. Contrary to her initial impressions of the book, she became his rapt audience and found human stories had an unexpected, thrilling edge.

  While his lids grew heavy and yawns interrupted the magical prose, Tink came to appreciate the novel. Fascinated with the man as much as the book he read, she watched until his long lashes fell for the last time and the even rhythm of his breaths told her he’d drifted to sleep.

  Flitting down to his chest barely caused a wrinkle in his shirt. The soft silk was the finest she’d ever touched, and the buttons had been carved from an unfamiliar dark material, reminding her of black glass. She tiptoed closer and lifted to the air, hovering above his face to see if he really was asleep. He didn’t twitch. So she reached down and touched his hair, delighted by the glossy waves.

  He truly was the most handsome man she’d ever seen, even more so than Conall, which she thought would never happen. Her werewolf friend was the kindest, most amazing man she knew. But he was no longer the most handsome.

  “He fell asleep again. Whatever he does during the day must be exhausting…”

  She had no idea how a ship worked. Oclanders didn’t venture onto the open sea, and the largest boat she had ever seen had been the raft sailed by Conall and Ramsay during their fishing expeditions. They always left at dawn and returned by afternoon with an enormous bounty of fish to feed the entire wolf pack and the bear clan.