Of Magic and Rum (Beyond a Contemporary Mythos)

Chapter 14

It’s been a week since Mary released me from the brig after announcing the crew unanimously voted on my freedom. It irked me to the core when Jack ordered, not once but twice, for me to stay imprisoned despite everything I’d told him. But after days alone with my thoughts and with nothing else to do but my ship duties, I realized I couldn’t blame him much either. I pose as much liability to these mortals as the protection I can offer. And still, despite knowing I could escape my cell at any point, I stayed there to build trust with Jack. Little good it’s done me.

Seas, it’s been so long since I’ve felt this vulnerable and out of place. Most of my family have taken up lives amongst mortals, blending in and making the most of their eternities. But I’ve been content under the sea, protecting Atlantis and surfacing long enough to visit my family. It worked for me—until Atlantis had other plans. I’ve never imagined being this close to humans and myself with them. And piracy? As on-theme as it is, I’ve always been meant for life in the water, not sailing on it. But this, all of it, it feels— right .

Mary and Red are the only two crewmates who have tried to converse with me. Others pass by, uneasy or shaken, and most ignore my presence and allow me to exist among them. But the one person I want more than anything in the known universe to acknowledge me has given little more than nods and mumbles of greetings.

Calico Jack Rackham.

What in the Seven Seas is it about him that makes me unable to look away? To yearn for his trust and approval?

Tsking at the thought, I press my forearms to the ship’s railing during my first much-needed breaks from swabbing the decks. The wind tousles my hair, and for once, the chilled sea mist coating my cheeks doesn’t have me frantically drying my face. I close my eyes, relishing the bliss for the first time since Atlantis swept me away. The scales come and go, but by this point, they’re familiar to the crew and they pay no mind. Their reservations toward me are warranted because they don’t know the power I possess.

It's too much to explain to them, and I plan to keep as secretive about the details as I can unless situations force me into it—like Jack almost drowning. A man clears his throat beside me, gruff and hoarse, scents of tar, gunpowder, and tangy rust wafting from him. Not Jack.

“Basking in the sun, nymph?” Ragnar’s voice asks.

I flutter open my eyes and crane my neck to look at his imposing form. “On a scheduled break, quartermaster. I assure you, I’m not idle.” Turning my gaze to the water, I sip my liquid rations.

“That’s not what I came to talk to you about.” Ragnar’s tanned, leathery fingers drum on the railing near my forearm.

When I turn to look at him full-on, he’s staring at me steely-gazed. His eyes are glacial blue, but one is paler than the other, foggy even, as if he’s partially blind in his left eye. “And just what do we have to talk about? The weather? Proper flint-lock loading techniques?”

The latter wouldn’t be such a bad idea, considering I’ve only ever handled a blade in battle.

“Do not take the captain’s warnings lightly, r?dtop ,” Ragnar continues to beat his finger against the wood, his gaze unwavering.

I lift my hat enough to scratch my forehead. “Which one? He’s created quite the list against me. It’s become increasingly difficult to keep track.”

Ragnar lowers his face toward mine, his jaw clenching and accentuating the thin, gnarled scar at the corner of his chin. “If we feel the crew is in danger from you at any point, we will take action. The captain gives the orders, but the QM is the one to carry them out .” He points to his eyes with two fingers and then to my face. “Do we understand one another?”

My skin crawls. Mary always talks so highly of Ragnar, like they’re two peas in a pod and the best of friends, but this version of him is one I don’t wish to be on the wrong side of. Jack can be ruthless, cunning, and deceitful, but Ragnar is anarchy waiting to be unleashed. And now I know why Jack made him his right-hand man.

Sliding closer, I rise to the balls of my feet, bringing me another inch or two closer to the mountain that is Ragnar. “If I try to harm any of these people, I’ll leave . But like I told Jack, I’ll also not hesitate to defend myself.”

It’s gone instantly, but there’s a hint of an upper lip twitch. “I’d expect nothing less. Glad to hear we’re on the same page.” After he gives a curt nod, he beats his fist once against the railing and is off to intimidate another unknowing poor soul.

Instinctively, I rub my throat.

“What the hell did Ragnar have to talk to you about? Looked intense.” Mary sidles beside me, hanging both arms over the ship’s side.

“Promises. Threats.” I shrug, sighing as more sea mist soothes my drying skin. “Nothing I’ve not gotten peculiarly used to since setting foot on this ship.”

Mary bumps into me. “It’ll get better. I promise. You’ve made the first step, and we haven’t brought in a haul yet.”

Chewing on my lip, I glance at Jack standing stoically at the helm. “Not so sure everyone is as quick to accept me, Mary.”

Mary grabs my face with one hand and turns it to look at her. “He’ll come around, too. Trust me. How can you be this impatient when you’ve been alive for hundreds of years?”

“Decades-old or centuries old, I’m still a living creature with emotions and feelings.” I bat her hand away and shove the rum bottle in my pocket. “Better get back to work.”

“Anne, I didn’t mean any offense, I—” Mary says with a frown, cutting herself short when she spots my warm smile.

“Yes, you did. And it’s alright. I’ll keep scrubbing this deck so clean I can see my reflection until something else warrants my attention.” I kick the bucket in front of me and drop to my knees.

Mary squats behind me, her arms wrapping around my torso, and she gives me a quick peck on the cheek. “Your passive aggressiveness is legendary, darling.”

I bite back a grin as I scrub the deck and watch Mary shout orders at several men who are holding the ropes limp instead of adjusting the sails as they should be.

An hour passes before I catch Jack staring at me from the opposite side of the ship. I expect him to quickly avert his gaze, to pretend he’d been leering at something else—anything but me, the traitorous sea nymph. But he doesn’t. Instead, he holds me captive in his eyes, the wind tousling his dark locks in wavy tendrils. I’ve been hunched over on my hands and knees, but I sit up straight, resting on my haunches and limply holding the scrubbing brush in my palm.

Then I hear it, distant at first but too recognizable to ignore. The melody is enough to tear me away from Jack’s lingering gaze because nothing else could’ve coaxed me. I leap to my feet, terror wrenching my spine, and sprint to the ship’s side, closing my eyes to focus on the overlapping voices catching in the wind. The haunting and eerie refrain has a breath hitching in my throat. And when I open my eyes, catching sight of the fog building from the sea’s depths, I sprint for the hull, pushing crewmates aside. The wind launches my hat from my head, and I don’t stop to retrieve it.

Sirens. Fucking Sirens.

“Jack,” I shout, breathless and frantic.

Jack pauses with his hands on the wheel, his jaw tightening. “What is it?”

“Everyone. Every single crew member except for me and Mary, you’re—” Pausing only long enough to catch my breath, I stare at Jack pleadingly. “—you’re in danger.”

Jack drums his fingers on the wheel’s pegs. “Why not you and Mary?”

“It won’t affect us because the call only persuades—” Gulping, I climb the stairs to stand in front of the pirate captain. “—mortal men.”

Jack’s squint deepens, his hands clenching the pegs now. “What’s happening, Anne?”

“Sirens,” I whisper. “Have you heard of them?”

A tick forms in Jack’s cheek, and he turns his gaze to the fog, which is nearing closer and closer to the ship. “Of course, I have, but?—”

I press a hand to Jack’s face and turn him toward me to focus on me. “ I’m real, Jack. So are they. And we only have moments before their song falls on your ears.”

The gleam in his eyes tells me I have him at first, but skepticism and mistrust soon take over, and he brushes my fingers away. “So, we ignore them. Shove cloth in our ears if we have to. They can’t possibly affect every man on board.”

“No, Jack.” Grabbing his face again, I hold his gaze using both hands. “There’s nothing you can do to stop it. We must secure all of you; it’s the only way.”

“Secure us?” Jack nuzzles against my touch for a fraction of a second but grimaces soon after. “What do you mean? Like with bloody rope?”

“Yes,” I breathe, tightening my grip against his cheeks. “Please. Now isn’t the time to let your stubborn-ass attitude overshadow what’s happening. I don’t want you to die , Jack.”

He lifts a hand and lightly trails a fingertip down my forearm, still looking at me. “And I suppose you can’t reason with them? Being maidens of the sea and all that?”

It’s the first time he’s openly discussed it since we spoke in the brig, and my heart is soaring at the most inconvenient time.

“No. I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that.” Goosebumps litter my skin, and he’s still tantalizing it with his touch.

Jack searches my face before he surveys the clueless crew going about their business behind me. “Alright. There’s extra rope in the back corner below deck. Get Glog to show you where it is and bring it up. Meanwhile, I’ll tell the crew why we’re asking them to be tied to heavy, immovable objects.” Jack pinches the bridge of his nose.

After nodding vigorously, I give Jack’s cheeks a final squeeze before I slip across the deck toward the stairs. The Siren song has grown so loud that several men are already lured toward it, eyes wide and entranced, feet dragging across the wood.

When I get below deck, Glog stares up bewildered, a metal spoon dripping liquid within his grasp. “Was that you singing up there, Anne?”

It’s not as loud down here, and I pat his face, snapping his attention away from the sound. “No. And I don’t have time to explain, Glog. But you’re all in danger, and I need you to help me lug some rope on deck. Can you do that, please?”

Glog’s eyes keep rising skyward, and I have to snap my fingers at him. “Yeah. Yes. I can do that.”

With coils of rope wrapped around each arm, we cart them upstairs. Mary is already tying several men to barrels filled with cannonballs, shoving them back whenever they try to stand and move toward the melody.

Jack is still at the helm, focused on something in front of him, head twitching every other second. I point at a spot for Glog to sit and quickly get to work, tying him while Mary secures Duke despite his barking protests.

I’m heading for Jack next when he turns toward me, his nostrils flaring and teeth bared. “If this is a trick to steal the ship or run us into the ground for your own?—”

I slap a hand over his mouth before he can finish, my stomach tingling at the feel of his beard tickling my palm. “It’s not a trick, Jack. And if it is, Mary will see that you all are safe. Right, Mary?” I shout to her but keep my eyes fixed on Jack.

“It won’t come to that, Captain, but you know I’ll keep your balls intact,” Mary yells back, tugging on the final knot she’s tied around Red.

“Come on, Jack,” I whisper, holding my hand toward the anchor pull and lifting the rope into view.

He runs a knuckle under his bottom lip before relinquishing his hold on the wheel and taking a seat, encircling his arms around the device. I kneel beside him and start winding the rope several times, making the appropriate knots to keep him still.

“You’ve done this before. My, my, aren’t you always full of surprises?” Jack’s voice is like a caress—silky, smooth, and the faintest hint of gravel near the shell of my ear.

I pull the last knot extra tight, making him grunt, and flash him a crooked smile. “Shut up, Jack.”

Our noses are a breath apart. I can count the golden flecks in his eyes amidst the mahogany, and he tilts his head to one side. “You certainly like to say my name a lot lately,” he says.

“It’s a simple, strong name. I like saying it.” I pan his face, noting the line of hair missing in his right brow from a small scar.

“Anne is simple and strong too, you know.” Jack sighs and beats the back of his head against the anchor hold, his knees bouncing. The Sirens’ song is now affecting him. “What’s your real name?”

My throat tightens, and I fight an internal battle between desiring nothing more than for him to know me and adoring that he knows this version of me, the pirate version. “Rhode,” I whisper into his ear.

Jack waves his hand, dismissing the name. He bumps his head against mine like a lion with his lioness. “You’ll forever be Anne to me.”

My heart plummets, soars, and blazes into the sky.

“And you’re going to—” Jack winces and pulls at the ropes, the Sirens’ call booming across the deck now. “—you’re going to want to add another rope. Because I’m not sure how long this will hold me.” He flexes his arms, loosening one knot, and I quickly scramble for another rope, winding it around him. “Don’t let any of the crew get loose. Promise me.”

Mary struggles with Ragnar at the mast, shoving him back as he digs his heels against the deck to push closer to the sound. All the male crew members writhe beneath their bindings, wailing over not being able to answer the Sirens beckoning them.

Drawing a breath, I give the captain a firm nod. “I promise.”

It’s the last thing I get to say to him before the Sirens’ melody consumes him.

Feet dangle from the crow’s nest, and I gasp. How could we have forgotten about Squid? “Mary, Squid is still up there,” I shout.

Mary shoves her foot to Ragnar’s chest, pinning him to the mast. “He’ll be fine. He can’t hear a thing,” she says, pointing to her ear.

It explains so much. He prefers being alone because he can’t hear conversations and prefers the ability to see in all directions from up high.

Jack growls and loosens the ropes again, his nostrils flaring, cheeks puffing as he stretches his arms. I grab on one end, pulling it taut, but he shrugs out of it before I have a chance to retie the knot. He’s free and storming for the railing, shoving me aside like a discarded flour sack before I can stand.

The fog lifts one Siren to Jack’s eye level. Her true form, with blazing red eyes, onyx snake hair, sunken cheeks, and curved claws, is obvious to me. But to Jack, she’ll appear as what he finds most beautiful in a mortal.

I’m at his side, using my divine strength to wedge myself between the Siren and Jack. The Siren is hissing at my back and speaking obscenities in ancient Greek.

“Jack,” I shout, bunching his shirt and shaking him. “You’ve got to resist. They aren’t what you think.”

“It’s so beautiful,” Jack mumbles, his gaze glassy and in another realm. “The music. Can’t you hear it?” He pushes me aside, but I’m back in front of him, shoving and punching his chest.

“Don’t do it. You can’t,” I plead, slapping him in the face, but it does nothing. My slap is a minor inconvenience in his grand plan to leap from the ship to the jagged rocks hidden by the fog below.

“Watch me,” Jack declares, climbing onto the railing.

I’m unsure what motivates me to do what I think of next or why it’ll work, but I do it anyway. Grasping his face, I pull it to mine and kiss him. It’s like kissing someone unconscious at first, but soon, his lips brush mine, and his arm snakes around my lower back.

Jack’s eyelashes brush my cheek, and I pull away, staring at him gazing at me and no longer focused on the Siren. “That’s the third time our mouths have been fused for all the wrong reasons,” his voice croaks, that arm still firmly wrapped around me, almost possessively. “We’re going to have to rectify that.”

I press my palms over his chest. “Right now, we need to save the crew. And you need to steer this ship away from those rocks.” The same rocks we brush against the moment the words leave my lips, making the ship lurch to a grinding stop.

“Shit,” Jack shouts, turning away.

Testing a hypothesis, I run to Red and plant my lips to his, befuddled when he doesn’t kiss me back and still pulls at his ropes.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jack shouts. “Are you trying to make me jealous, woman?”

My mouth falls agape. “It worked on you. I thought maybe I—” I throw my hands to my hips and glare at Jack. “ Are you jealous?”

“No,” Jack answers defensively, lacing it with a snarl, and leaps to the wheel, skipping the stairs.

“Is Jack alright?” Mary asks, a wrinkle forming in her brow. She’s still fighting with Ragnar to keep him put.

“Yes, he—” I trace my middle finger over my bottom lip. “—he fought through it somehow.”

“Anne, fend off those bloody Sirens while I get us heading in the opposite direction,” Jack grunts as he furiously turns the wheel. The ship groans and cracks, slowly dislodging from the rocks.

I yank my cutlass from its sheath and stand posed at the railing. That same Siren floats in front of me, her tail whipping through the fog like water, her long fingers wrapping over the ship’s side. There’s no hesitation from me before I bring the blade down at her knuckles, but she moves away in time, cackling.

“Curious as to why a nymph carouses with the likes of humans,” she’s speaking in scattered whispers. “You’ve cost us a meal. And we are starving .”

“Tough. Shit. These mortals—” I raise the sword. “Are mine.” Jabbing it forward, I catch the Siren by surprise, slicing her shoulder.

She hisses with her black forked tongue, her hair spiking. The ship whirls in the other direction, and the Sirens’ song morphs into shrieks of agony and despair, gradually snapping the crew back to reality. The wind favors us, kicking up and filling the sails, giving us the speed to distance ourselves from the Sirens’ forsaken island quickly. I release a shaky breath, sheathe my cutlass, and undo everyone’s bindings.

Everyone is still alive. Everyone is safe.

As I undo the final knot on the last remaining crew member, I catch Jack’s gaze at the helm for what has to be the umpteenth time since I snuck onboard The Revenge. But unlike any other time, this time, his eyes blaze with intensity, understanding, and ravenous intrigue.