I sniffled.
Get a hold of yourself, Red.
Slowly, I look down at the bundle in my arms studied my dead daughter. Her tiny blue eyes were open wide. When I adjusted, her little jaw went slack. I pushed her mouth shut gently and held it there. Her lips were full, as though they were ready to plant a kiss on the cheek of her mother or father.
Or sister.
“She doesn’t weigh nearly as much as my sword,” I breathed.
Rusty’s voice was muted. “She’s just a bit longer than my hand. And her tiny fingers are so long and thin. And those little nails—”
Rusty fingered her little sister’s lifeless hands, each one perfect, with an almost invisible nail tipping each one.
Loreena’s skin that didn’t look like skin appeared somewhat bubbly and dark. I chewed my lip. “Pray for her, Rusty.”
Rusty was deep in a Latin recitation when Jack whisked back into the room. He slammed the door behind him. “Can you walk, Red?”
I made no move to swipe the tears from my cheeks. “Here Jack, would you like to hold her?”
Jack didn’t answer. “Darling, Blackbeard was toying with us. He had ships waiting, though I don’t know how he did it.”
Solo, who’d been keeping vigil in the corner, leapt to his feet.
“Red, if you can walk, we need to get you down to the cargo hold. I’ll lock you down there, and you too, Rusty, so no harm will come to you.”
Rusty scooped Loreena from my arms as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Jack,” I managed. “Please bring my sword.”
I saw his lips tilt into a sad smile. “As you wish.”
•
“Rusty.” I jerked as something crashed above me. The thunderous cacophony that rumbled on deck was too much to bear. “I can’t stay down here while everyone else fights.”
And dies.
“Mama, you can’t go up there.” Rusty had wrapped Loreena in a sheet and placed her in a crate. Before it held my daughter’s remains, judging by the stamp on the side, it had held potatoes.
I struggled to my feet. “The cargo hold only locks from the inside.” I sheathed my sword and tiptoed across the floor. The world pitched and spun, but it felt good to walk and stretch my legs. I rested my fingers on the lock.
“No Mama, please.” I didn’t look over my shoulder at Rusty. I’d put on pantalets and stuffed the crotch with old clothes since the blood wouldn’t quit coming, so I stood at an odd angle, with my legs wider than they should be.
I sucked in a breath and flipped the lock. “You stay here. I’ll be back with news of victory.”
“Mama!”
“What is it, Rusty?” I looked back over my shoulder at my adopted daughter and immediately regretted my harsh tone. I smiled at her. “Thank you for everything today. I don’t know what I would have done if not for you. You’re our blessing, child.”
Rusty’s voice was small. “I—I love you.”
I opened the door. “I love you, too. Lock this door behind me.”
The scene on deck was all it had sounded like from the cargo hold. Pools of blood left red rings in the thirsty wood. From atop the wheelhouse, someone roared. I drew my sword and spun on my heel. The world kept spinning and a roil of nausea surged. I hiccupped.
Red, you’re in no condition to fight. You’re going to get yourself killed.
Dark Water William glared at me. “Witch,” he seethed. “Only a witch could give birth to a monster. The devil’s seed. Then come up to fight.”
I backed up a step as Dark Water squatted down atop the wheelhouse as though he meant to spring down atop me. Something flashed in his eyes that gave him a beastly look. As I backed up another step, something hit my shoulder. Charles Swan’s foul breath, with a slightly fishy odor, met my nose. He made no move to shift out of my way.
“Witch,” he agreed. He twitched his nose. His greasy moustache moved across his lip like a limp worm.
I swallowed back the nausea and put my hand on my sword. Slowly, I drew it from its scabbard. My vision grew fuzzy and I suddenly wished I had something to lean against.
Outnumbered.
One of Blackbeard’s men crept up behind Charles, but all his attention was fixed on me. Without a second thought, I tossed my sword to Charles. “Behind you!”
Charles turned and stabbed my steel through the approaching pirate. Something changed on his face when he turned back to face me. His features were somehow softer, almost human. I think if I’d have been a man, in that moment, he would have pledged his allegiance to me over Dark Water.
He glanced up at his cohort, still crouched atop the wheelhouse, and jerked his chin. The tall African with the hate-filled eyes melted backward off the wheelhouse and disappeared into the throng of the fight. My insides chilled. Somehow, some way, this fight was just beginning.
Charles handed my bloodied steel back to me before disappearing behind Dark Water. I sank against the wheelhouse, not really sitting and not really standing.
It’s not over with Dark Water. Or Charles Swan.
“Redella!” Jack’s voice met my ears. “Watch out!”
Metal clanged together and my hair blew back in a whoosh as a hidden pirate’s sword met mine. His dark eyes flashed and his beard, so black it was almost blue, hung stringy from his face. Tiny shells and beads dotted the gnarled mess that hung from his chin.
“So it’s true,” he growled.
He slashed again, and with a flick of my wrist, I blocked it. “What?”
“Back from the Dead Red.” He reached for me, but I slipped out of the way. The world pitched again as I stumbled, but somehow, I found my footing.
“You’ll make a wonderful wench aboard my ship.”
I jabbed for his throat—but missed.
“I’ll have to share you with the crew, of course. But a girl like you won’t mind. Will you?”
My guts ached and I regretted coming up here at all. Still, my words escaped my tight lips in a growl. “You’ll have to kill me first.”
“That can be arranged.”
The cacophony that had reigned upon the deck as Blackbeard’s crew tried to take The Black Otter dulled to silence as I stared at the scarred pirate. I felt the blood escape my body and disappear into the cloth between my legs. The brief thought of being caught by the smarmy pirate and made to lay with the men upon his ship brought with it an icy trickle of fear down my backbone.
I’m not at my strongest, he may win this battle.
