mentally. I will him back to life with every essence of myself.
And finally, the water sways upward. It drifts out of the lungs, through his flesh, sweats out of his skin, and comes into me.
“Now breathe!” I say and sing at the same time. I blow air into his mouth once more. Demand that his lungs start working. Riden’s heart still beats, so if I can convince his lungs to pump on their own, he will be all right. He has to be all right.
Riden gasps, heaving in the loudest breath I have ever heard. It reminds me of
a newborn babe taking its first breath. It is the sound of life.
I lean away from him and take a moment to breathe myself.
In seconds, they are upon me. Draxen must have regained his senses. A blade
is shoved under my throat. Another presses against my stomach, digging in enough to scratch the skin. I can’t even muster up the strength to care. Riden is alive. That’s all that matters. His eyes are closed and his wounds still bleed. But he will survive.
“What would you like done with her, Captain?” one of the offending pirates
asks.
“Take her back to the brig. I want five men down there watching her at all times. She’s not to be given food or water. And don’t talk to her.”
Like a caged bird, I’m locked up. Again.
I’m really starting to hate this.
Chapter 20
THERE ISN’T A WORD for how cold I feel in the brig. Now that I can afford to think about myself, I register the effect of wet clothes and the brisk morning air.
Small gaps in the wood allow faint breezes to escape into the ship. They rake against my skin, sending me racking with shivers.
My extra changes of clothes are no longer in here. I’ve no idea what Riden’s
done with them. Maybe the other pirates took them once my cell was unlocked.
Fabric can be sold at a pretty price, and pirates are always looking to make a profit.
I sit on the floor, my arms wrapped around my legs. My toes have gone numb. I remove my boots and rub at them fiercely with my hands.
The men outside my cell do nothing. They hardly spare me a glance. Draxen
was obviously responsible for this lot being chosen to watch me. They won’t respond to any of my comments.
“Is it Draxen’s intention for me to die or can I get a blanket?
“Oi, Ugly, I’m talking to you.”
One man looks. His face reddens, and then he goes back to staring at the walls.
“How’s it that Draxen managed to find a whole group of deaf men as my guards?
“Get me a blasted blanket, or I’ll have your heads!
“Don’t suppose one of you would like to toss me your shirt?” At this point I
would take any foul-smelling garment, as long as it’s dry.
Eventually I try to force myself to dry. I run in circles, wave my arms about—
anything to get my blood pumping. But each thing I do sends more air onto my
raw skin. I wish I were back in the water.
I remove as much clothing as I dare in this company.
How is there still water on my skin? How can there be so much of it? The truly terrible part is I could whisk it away, but I don’t know what the consequences would be. Would I lose myself and become the siren? Or could I
manage to keep my head like I did those few times with Riden’s help? I don’t know, but at this point, I can’t risk it. Not with what’s about to come.
I don’t know how much time passes before I give up being quite so careful. I
sing a low tune to the man who looked up at my taunt. He seems to be the weak
one of the bunch. Get me a blanket! I hurl the words at him in the form of a harsh song. Only he can hear the intent of the song. To the others, I’m making
meaningless noise.
Abruptly, he gets up and leaves.
“Where yeh going?” another one asks him. He doesn’t receive a response.
The enchanted man returns shortly. He hands me a blanket through the bars.
“Just to get you to shut up,” I have him say, to throw off any suspicions the others might have.
“About bloody time,” I say. I rip the cloth from his hands and use it to wipe
the water from my skin. Then I wrap myself in it. So much better. I can actually
think clearly.
All I need now is to wait out the rest of the day. Possibly the night, too. I don’t know how long it will take.
Yesterday and this morning have thoroughly exhausted me. I drift in and out
of sleep. First I dream of Riden. He’s healthy and well. He tells me again he’s a better shot than I am. We take turns shooting at dummies. In the end, he wins.