Vengeance of the Pirate Queen(21)

I make the days count in the only way I know how. I shrug out of my captain’s coat and readjust my knife sheaths. What shall I observe tonight? I could hide myself in the sleeping quarters and see who rises earlier than they should. That’s always a fun one. Or I could position myself high on one of the masts and watch the main deck below me. I can’t hear interactions from up there, but it’s always interesting to see if anyone rendezvous with someone they don’t usually talk to.

I fold my coat and place it in its cubby. Then I turn.

That tricorne is still on the floor, the smallest layer of dust coating it.

The door to my rooms closes without a sound, because I keep the hinges well oiled for just such activities. Kearan is no longer at the helm. His shift ended a few hours ago. Let’s find out what he does when his time is his own. He insisted I don’t know his new habits. I should set about changing that.

He’s not in the bunk area, where Iskirra is halfway through inking a compass onto one of the girl’s upper thighs. He’s not in the galley with the men playing cards. Nor is he anywhere on the top deck. That leaves the lowest level, which isn’t off-limits, but there’s very little reason for anyone to want to be down there, unless they’re trying to hide something.

The hatch barely makes a sound as I open it, and I lower my head into the opening, looking at the area upside down. There’s a small light toward the fore of the ship, so I drop down, my toes connecting with the hull before I land into a crouch. Behind me is all the storage for the journey. Ahead are the cells for those who misbehave. And after that— I hear crying.

But it’s definitely not coming from a man.

I creep closer, keeping my body low to the floor and hugging the edges of the rounded walls, using the beams of the hull to hide behind as I inch closer and closer.

When my ears catch up with my instincts for silence and nearness, I realize the crying can only belong to one person.

Only Roslyn can manage to sound like that, and her little whimpers break my heart.

“I came down here to be alone,” she says.

For a heartbeat, I make the mistake of thinking she’s talking to me.

“I know,” a deep voice answers. Kearan’s. “I also like to be alone when I cry.”

She makes a sound like a snort. “You don’t cry.”

“Don’t I?” he asks.

“No. Grown-ups don’t cry.”

“Oh, yes, we do.”

“What do you have to cry about? Sorinda actually wants you here.”

At that, Kearan laughs. “No, she doesn’t. I’m here because Alosa wants me here.”

“Then at least somebody wants you here. Nobody wants me.” A little sob makes her shoulders shake.

“That’s not true, and you know it. You know why you’re not allowed to be here.”

“If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re bad at it. Go away.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Kearan says, “I miss my mother. It’s okay if you miss your father, even if you want to be here.”

Roslyn cries harder, but this time, she wraps her arms around Kearan, and he pulls her to his side, completely enveloping her in his arms.

“How did you know?” she asks.

“I was once a little boy away from home.”

She sniffles. “I miss him, but I also want to be here. How come I have to feel both things at the same time?”

“That’s just life. You can feel joy and pain at the same time, just like you can want to be here and be somewhere else at the same time. But it’s okay. You get to have your little adventure on the sea, and then we’ll get you headed back to your papa once we reach the Seventeen Isles.”

She rubs at her eyes. “That’s just it. I don’t want to leave. I wish Papa could be here with me on this adventure. I’ve never been sailing without him before. But he’s different now. He doesn’t know how to enjoy being with me on the open ocean anymore. And nobody understands that. Everyone thinks I almost lost my life when I was shot, but the truth is, I did lose it. No more pirating. No more adventures. No more sailing. I say I’m bored and angry, and that’s true. But even more true is the fact that I’m sad. I miss my life and my old papa.”

Most of Roslyn’s tears fade into Kearan’s clothing from where he still holds her.

“It’s okay to be sad,” he says. “And you don’t need to hide being sad ever. If it’s okay, I’d like to stay here while you be sad. You can squeeze me as tightly as you want and get my shirt as wet as you want. I won’t go anywhere.”

She nods against his chest as more tears fall, and I find myself backing away.

This is what I find Kearan doing when he’s not on duty? Comforting a child?

Damn him.

Damn him to the stars and back.





FIRST THING THE NEXT morning, I rouse Roslyn from her bunk before the day crew even rises to prepare for their shifts.

Her sleepy eyes widen when she sees me hovering over her bunk. “What is it? We can’t have reached the Seventeen Isles yet!”

“Shh. No. Grab your dagger and meet me on deck.”

The weather is a bit chillier than it was yesterday. We’re slowly making the transition from the tropics to more temperate climates the farther north we go. The cooler air feels nice in my lungs, and I take a deep breath.