Of Magic and Rum (Beyond a Contemporary Mythos)

Chapter 24

The sun has barely risen, and I’ve gotten no more than an hour of sleep, but I’m restless. The run-ins with the Charybdis, the encounter with N?kk, and the impending meeting with Morgana, the sea witch, have my stomach in ever-tightening knots. This unintended journey started with me fending for myself, and now, it has blossomed into harboring an entire crew under my fins. I’ve never been responsible for this many mortal lives at once. It puts my uncle’s job, the immense pressure on his shoulders, in perspective.

Jack lies motionless beside me in a deep slumber, the low rumble of his snores vibrating the top of my head. He looks too peaceful to interrupt, and genuine rest comes so infrequently for him that I don’t dare. Slipping from under his arm, astonishingly not flipping myself to the floor, I tip-toe out of his quarters, frowning as his body’s warmth fades from my skin.

Like his cat dad, Truffles is curled up on his back with his front paws in the air, snoring away. Despite the creaking floorboard, he doesn’t stir when I sneak past him, and I successfully arrive on deck. Squid’s feet hang from the crow’s nest, and Aranck sits on a barrel, organizing herbs. Everyone else still sleeps, and I rest my elbows on the ship’s side, letting the cool breeze and sea mist calm my nerves.

My eyes are closed but fly open when I hear a tiny voice humming a shanty and crunching— loud crunching. The imp is walking past, having not noticed me despite my being triple his size. I clear my throat, and the imp freezes, cradling several biscuits in his arms. When he turns to look up at me, crumbs surround his mouth, and more fall out when he grins.

“Hungry?” I pinch back a smile.

The imp swallows the chunk of biscuit with a loud gulp. “Been long since real food. Master only ever fed us oats.”

Damn. Poor thing.

“I can understand that.” Squatting to be more at his level, I hold my hand out. “But we have portion rations for a reason. Can’t have any crew starving to death, can we?”

The imp frowns and hesitates. But eventually, three biscuits rest in my palm. He’s busy licking every crumb from his fingers, and I offer him one. “I suppose one extra won’t hurt. But it’ll be our little secret, yeah?”

The imp’s eyes brighten, and he receives the food with both hands. He takes the tiniest bites I’ve ever seen in hopes of savoring it. “Thankful.”

“Did you already have a name?”

The imp feverishly shakes his head. “No. Master only use numbers. But have new name now.”

“You do?” My head jerks back. “What is it?”

“Laust,” the imp answers, grinning with cheeks full of biscuit.

Tapping my knee, I squint against the sun. “Oh, yeah? And who named you that?”

With a chunk of biscuit still in his grasp, Laust raises his arms skyward. “The big, grumpy one with the foggy eye.”

“Ragnar?” A light laugh bursts from my throat because I’m delightfully surprised by this.

Laust blinks a few times and nods. “Yes.”

Now I realize Laust and I have something in common. We stowed away on Jack’s ship, hoping it would lead us to better places. Given his reasons were to escape servitude to a cruel master, and mine were far more selfish by comparison, a brief flash of guilt prickles the base of my neck.

“You know, Laust,” I conjure sea bubbles to my palms, flashing the scales through my skin and holding them to his eye level. “I, too, am born of myth.”

Laust’s orbed eyes widen, the sunlight above us casting a brightened glint. He’s lost interest in the biscuit, a chunk falling from his gaping mouth and landing on the deck. He reaches a clawed hand toward the bubbles, wincing before finding the courage to touch them. His ears fold backward, pressing to his head, and a delighted smile follows. “What are you?”

“A sea nymph.” Grinning, I clap my hands together, sending a water spray at Laust’s chest.

Laust lets out a joyous yelp and rubs his hands over the tattered burlap that serves as his clothes, his tail bristling at the watery sensation. He suddenly halts, ears drooping, and he frowns. “Master hurt you?”

The genuine concern in his expression, the way his tail curls around his leg as if he had anything to do with N?kk’s behavior, has my heart strangling.

Offering a reassuring smile, I rub one of his horn stubs. “Only a little. He’s been taught a lesson, and I don’t think he’ll try it again soon. Besides—” I bump a knuckle under his chin, encouraging him to hold his head high now that he can . “You’re one of us now, Laust. You need not be concerned about him anymore.”

A jolt of confidence zips Laust’s spine straight, a gleam in his eye, and he snatches the biscuit from the floor. “Right. I go find fluffy horse.”

Laust scurries away before I fully register that the “fluffy horse” is Truffles. Chuckling, I rise in time to catch Duke yawning and stretching his arms above his head. He’s made his way to the helm, lifting his shirt to scratch his round belly, and spits over the ship’s side, settling at the wheel. He spots me and motions me over.

“Morning,” I say, shielding my eyes from the sun blazing yellow and pale orange behind Duke.

Duke coughs into his fist before grinning and curling his fingers around the wheel’s pegs. “Good morning. I see you’ve taken a liking to our newest miniature recruit?”

Sitting on a crate near the railing, I cross my ankle to the opposing knee and stretch my arms wide. “Laust.”

Duke arches a brow. “Bless you.”

I laugh and let my head fall back, closing my eyes and feeling the sun warm my skin. “No, the imp. That’s his name. Given by Ragnar, no less.”

“Bah. Now you’re a pirate and a liar.” Duke lets out a raspy huff.

“It’s true,” Mary’s voice adds, and I let my eyes flutter open. She’s cleaning her teeth with a wooden pick and hops to the helm, joining us. “I bore witness to Ragnar, with no influence from me, name our little cute and ugly.”

“And now it’s a conspiracy,” Duke scoffs.

Mary combs her dark hair before putting on her tri-cornered hat. She flops on the seat next to me, still chewing on the wood pick, and slaps my knee. “Are we making friends with imps now?”

I’ve had acquaintances of all species and sorts, not to exclude satyrs, pixies, and gnomes. But an imp? This is a first.

“Yeah. I’d say we’re threaded from the same cloth. I offered companionship as the only other fantastical being on board.”

Mary makes a tsking sound and goes from slouching to sitting with perfect posture. “I’m enchanting . Isn’t that the same damn thing?”

“If by that you mean possessing the ability to disarm a man with a look and three words or less, then I wholeheartedly agree with you, Read,” Jack says, propping a foot on one step. He’s wearing his captain’s jacket, shirt open and billowing in the breeze. My insides are already flipping at the sight of him, but when his eyes meet mine, I’m sugar in the sea.

Snorting, Mary flicks the wood pick overboard. “I’ll take it.”

Jack doesn’t look away from me as he hoists himself to the wheel. “Duke, we’re taking a slight detour. Reroute us in—” Pausing, he holds his hand out to me. “What direction, love?”

Though more of a pet name versus a declaration, the way the word “love” rolls from Jack’s tongue sends my nerves into sizzling static. “Straight east.”

“Due east?” Duke mumbles something under his breath. “That’s more than a detour, Jack. We still need to get further north if we’re going to?—”

Jack shifts his attention to Duke. “Due. East.”

Rolling his shoulders, Duke takes the wheel. “Aye, aye.”

Jack spins on his heel, returning to me with his fingers interlaced behind his back. “You sure about this? All the legends I’m familiar with never make any witch, be it land or sea, something to trifle with.”

The truth? I’m not sure about it. And he’s right. I’m certain righteous witches exist somewhere in the vast universe, but I’ve yet to meet one. Morgana, infamous for her high stakes, is no exception. I hope she’ll have mercy on me.

I urge him to hug me by sliding my arms around Jack’s waist. When he obliges, wrapping those burly limbs to my shoulders and back, I rest my head on his chest, listening to his steady mortal heartbeat. “I’m not sure, no. But I don’t have a choice. She’s the only one I know who can do this spell without us traveling much further off course.”

“Then we know what to do, Annie. But are you sure I can’t come with you? I have to say, the idea of you dealing with another magical sea creep by yourself makes me a tad nauseous.” Jack’s body tenses, and his grip tightens on my back.

“Jack,” I start, peeling back and twisting his shirt within my grasp. “I told you. She lives und?—”

“Underwater,” he finishes for me, averting his gaze elsewhere. “Yes, you said. But we don’t know how far underwater.”

It brightens my spirits and simultaneously tears me up inside. Jack is trying to find any way possible to be at my side during this exchange.

“Dealing with her is going to be a sensitive matter. I know you’re the best swimmer on this ship, but we can’t risk you being unable to make it back if the grotto is submerged.” Lifting my palms to his face, I turn it toward me. “This won’t be like N?kk. I promise .”

Jack sniffs and sucks spit through his teeth before letting out a defeated sigh. “I swear to the heavens, Anne, if something happens to you, I can’t say I won’t wish to watch the world burn.”

In a deep cavern in my gut, I believe him. Passionate people love hard, but they also fight hard.

“It won’t come to that.”

Jack nods and lightly takes my hands in his, kissing my fingertips and palm. “I’m holding you to it, but I need you to know that whereas I’m one of the more honorable pirates sailing the seas, my soul is fully capable of wickedness. Because as much as I live for myself, I also live for my people.”

Ruthless when needed.

“I hear you, Jack.”

We both nod in unspoken agreement.

The wait for the spot where I’ll dive into the water, praying to the Seas the Charybdis hasn’t been following us, feels like an eternity. I sit on a barrel between Jack’s legs, with his arms cradling me for the duration of the trip. He whispers sweet and filthy words in my ear, which keeps me distracted. Laust has finally coerced Truffles into letting him ride on his back like a great steed. The sight of a red imp holding onto bunches of cat fur while Truffles runs from one side of the deck to the other, Laust holding on for dear life, is also quite the distraction. Glog plays his hurdy-gurdy, the tone growing somber as I tell Jack to drop the anchor because—we’re here.

I’m perched at the plank, undoing my belt, resting my flintlock in my pile of clothes, and securing the cutlass at my back.

Jack grabs my elbow. “Listen to me. I’m no idiot, and I know this witch will ask you to bargain in exchange for the parchment. Don’t agree right away. You hear me? Listen to her words. There’s always a catch. You might as well be making a deal with the Devil.”

He’s right again. There is always a catch. The trick is to weigh out how detrimental that particular catch will be.

Not answering him straight away, I rise to the balls of my feet and kiss him deeply. “I have no words for how concerned you always are for me, an immortal, Captain.”

He traces his thumb under my bottom lip. “It doesn’t matter what you are. I’ll act the same. Haven’t you learned that by now?” Jack grins against my cheek and, resting a hand on my hip, lightly pushes me toward the plank. “Go before I do something stupid.”

After blowing him a kiss, I flip from the plank, morphing my legs into the tail before hitting the water. Following the familiar thrum only other sea creatures can hear, I reach Morgana’s grotto without a run-in with the Charybdis. She’s situated her lair in an air bubble, floating and held still with rows of seaweed attached to the sea bed. The entrance is a glittering waterfall that only reveals itself to me once my scales shimmer.

“Who in the fu—” Morgana begins to say but stops short, her black eyes wide and staring at me.

“Morgana. Been a while, hm?” I flick my wet hair behind me, crossing the threshold without invitation because she never denies anyone entrance. No one.

“Awhile?” She clacks her long black fingernails, a cauldron unironically boiling in the corner with green smoke. “The last time I saw you, you were fourteen.” Her long raven hair falls in animated waves down to her hips.

A rebellious adolescent who made a deal with a sea witch to get back at Leiana, another young nymph, for kissing the boy she liked on the cheek. I had to bring her various fish for use in her concoctions for an entire month. It killed me watching so much aquatic life die for nothing and knowing it was my petty fault.

“I’ve come to ask another favor.” Even saying it aloud has my throat clamping.

“Oh?” Morgana’s lips slither into a serpentine grin, and she whisks to her pot, her charcoal robes swaying with her webbed feet, allowing her to stay afloat on the shallow water beneath us. “Do tell.” She grabs a jar of grubs from a rickety wooden shelf and tosses them into the mix, their short, high-pitched wails making me second-guess my decision.

No. I must do this. My family deserves to at least know I’m alive.

“I need an enchanted parchment sent to—” Pausing, I lick my lips and take a deep, staggering breath. “—my father.”

Morgana dusts her hands and tilts her head inhumanly to the side. “Could you not simply send a carrier pigeon?”

“I don’t know where he is. The parchment would find him no matter where or when , correct?” I hate how desperate I sound, but I can’t help myself.

Morgana materializes a seahorse and tosses the poor thing into the cauldron next, causing bile to climb up my throat. “Curious how you’ve been separated?”

“Why does that matter? Do you want to make the deal or not?” I’m anxious and furious and only wish to get this over with.

She cackles until she gasps, her broad smile pulling the high sunken cheekbones tighter. “Such fire to match your hair, which I’ll need a lock of to connect you to dear old dad.” Morgana holds out her palm and makes a hurry-up gesture.

Using my sword, I cut a piece and slap it into her hand, glaring at her and waiting to hear what I’ll need to bargain this time.

Morgana throws the hair into the pot, blue vapors spiraling from it. She chants something in a language that resembles a mix between Latin and something far more ancient than I am. A parchment sheening with a rainbow prism rises from the pot’s magical waters, and she snatches it, her villainous gaze zeroing in on me. “Now. For what I want.”

Someone’s gasping for air and splashing through the waterfall entrance. Jack hunches forward, his hands on his knees. He takes several deep breaths and sputters. “Thank Christ, it’s an air bubble.”

Terror overcomes me. No. What if she tries to bargain with him? She can’t know he’s mine.

“Jack, what the hell are you doing? Your Captain told you to stay on board. Are you disobeying orders?” I fold my arms and lift my chin. “I should make you walk the plank for such insubordination.”

Jack’s glaring at me, and he looks between Morgana and me before dragging a hand through his soaked hair. “Apologies, Captain . But me and the crew were worried. Seeing as I can hold my breath the longest, we voted for me to come check on you.”

“I don’t believe you.” Morgana floats in front of Jack, and how close she is has my skin on fire. “Because no mortal could break past my shielding spell unless—” Her eyes cut to me, and her lips slowly curl upward. “I know what I want from you, sea nymph.”

“No,” I shout without reason or composure. Sliding in front of Jack, I shake my head at Morgana. “No. Please, anything else?—”

“Shh.” Morgana taps a pointed nail on my cheek. “You haven’t heard my proposal.”

Jack’s hand wraps my hip, pulling me against him.

“Then speak , witch.” My voice isn’t my own. It’s venomous and cold.

Morgana twirls once before speaking. “For the rest of eternity, you may not harm my daughters. In any capacity.”

Her daughters. The Sirens. I’ve never harmed them, to begin with. What difference will this make?

I open my mouth to answer, but Jack clamps a hand over it. “Remember what I said. What could she gain from this?”

Hours can go by, and I’d still come up empty on ways a trickster like Morgana can twist this to her advantage. There’s no doubt this will come back to bite me straight in the ass, but I know we can handle anything .

Peeling Jack’s fingers away, I nod at Morgana. “Agreed.”

Morgana appears in front of me in a swirl of black smoke, grinning and holding out her hand. “We have a deal then.”

I stare at her fingers, taking one final moment to think of the worst scenario that could come of this. But the more time I spend hesitating, the more time passes with my family fearing for my safety, and the more time passes before we reach Atlantis. And so, I shake her hand. There’s a blinding flash of light, and she’s holding the parchment out to me and dropping it in my limp hands.

“Write on it what you wish, put it in a corked bottle, and throw it to sea. The scroll will know its way from there.” Morgana says this to me but winks at Jack.

With the parchment crinkling in my grip, I lurch forward, but Jack grabs me, coaxing me toward the exit.

“It’s not worth it, love,” he whispers.

Morgana waves at me, one finger at a time. “I’ll be seeing you real soon, Rhode.”

The name is like a hundred jellyfish stings striking my body. And before I realize it, I’m back in the water, swimming with Jack to the surface and on board the ship. Jack lets me use his cabin to write my message in privacy, and I now sit in silence, staring at the blank parchment, not knowing what to say. There’s the possibility of saying both too much and not enough.

I grab the quill resting at the corner of Jack’s desk, lick the tip, and start writing from the heart.

Dear Dad,

If you’re reading this, that means the crazy sea witch was right, and this enchantment actually worked. I hope it does because I want to let you know I’m alive and safe. I’m in the Caribbean and have made the most of my life that I can here. Don’t worry. No one knows who or what I am.

Wincing, I pause, questioning whether I should say this because it’s a partial lie. But I need him not to worry, so I continue.

If I know you, you’re doing everything in your power to find me, find a way to me, and probably running yourself ragged over it. Thank you. But just know, if, for whatever reason, we aren’t able to see each other ever again, I’m your daughter, and I’m a survivor. I love you to the stars and back.

Your little seahorse,

Rhode