Of Magic and Rum (Beyond a Contemporary Mythos)

Chapter 25

I know I’m an idiot for diving into unknown waters to ensure Anne’s safety. But I’ve not gotten very far in life by doing everything smartly. Some of the best decisions have been those where I acted on impulse versus mulling it over. This mentality has saved my life and crew members’ lives, leading me to my captaincy. Is she alright? Yes. Do I regret the risk? Never. Because if something had happened down there, I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself. I’d rather die trying than lie down and wait for things to occur one way or the other. Or worse, wait for someone else to do it.

No sooner had we arrived back on deck than I knew Anne would immediately wish to write the letter to her father. I whisked her to my quarters, saying nothing, and shut the door behind me with her nestled inside. We’re now back on course for Greece, and I’m at the helm, letting out my fifth deep sigh until finally, Duke pushes his glasses down his nose with raised bushy brows.

“Something on your mind , son?” Duke’s holding back a smile. I can tell from the deep grooves forming in his cheeks.

“How kind of you to ask.” I turn to lean my elbows on the railing and sigh for the sixth time. “The deal Anne made with the sea witch keeps playing in my head. There has to be more to it.”

Duke’s shoulders pull back, insinuating I’ve piqued his interest. “What was it?”

The way the witch’s fingers constantly curled, her wrists rotating, still plagues my thoughts. I won’t go so far as to call her “beautiful,” but she was far from what I imagined witches would appear to be. They’re supposed to look so old they could be on the brink of death, littered with hairy warts and missing teeth or something. “That Anne can’t harm her daughters, whoever the hell they are, for the rest of eternity. Under any circumstances.”

Nodding, Duke strokes the hair surrounding his mouth. “And your first hunch?”

His question elicits a smile from me because this is Duke’s way. He’s human like any other man and doesn’t possess all the answers, but he knows how to guide you to answer them for yourself.

“Not sure what gives this witch her jollies, but something tells me it’s watching others suffer, knowing she’s to blame.” Truffles is on deck in rare form, and he rubs against my calves, flicking his tail at my knee.

Duke removes his glasses and uses his shirt to clean dried water spots. “And how would this deal, in particular, make Anne suffer?”

A twitch forms in my jaw, and I gaze at the crew. Mary barks orders to those pulling ropes for the sails; Ragnar stands motionless with his arms folded in a shadowed corner, and Squid leans forward in the crow’s nest, holding onto the mast with one hand and shading his eyes with the other. “Mary, you, Glog—” Pausing, I avert my eyes back to Duke. “— me .”

“Ah, yes.” Duke slips the glasses back to his nose and takes hold of the wheel. “Making one suffer by inflicting pain on those closest to them over them alone.”

I punch my knuckles against the wood. “And what’s worse? She’d feel helpless not being able to do anything about it.”

“Who are her daughters, I wonder?” This time, it’s a genuine question from Duke, not one to provoke thought.

Retrieving my sash from a pile of effects I’d left on deck before diving into the sea, I tie it around my waist. “I haven’t the foggiest, but I’ll ask Anne when she’s ready.”

The door to my quarters swings open, and Anne steps out with the parchment clung to her chest. Her eyes are wide and verging on petrified.

Speak of the Angel.

“Anne, love,” I reach out a hand, placing it at the small of her back. “Are you alright?”

She sucks her lips into her mouth and rapidly shakes her head. “No. I’m terrified this isn’t going to work. It has to work.”

I rub up and down her arms. “It will work. And look, I already found a bottle.” Plucking the empty one I procured, I prop it between us. “Still reeks of rum, but it’s dry, and it’ll—” Before I can finish, her arms wrap around my neck, her nose nuzzling my jaw. I smile into her scarlet hair. “It’s only a bottle.”

“No, it’s—” Anne pulls back, sniffling, her eyes brimmed with red as if she’s about to cry. The mere thought of her in tears makes me anxious. “—will you do it? I can’t watch.”

“Of course.” Gently, I take the parchment from her, rolling it tighter until it’s small enough to fit through the bottle’s opening. Once secured inside, I shove the cork into it, using my palm to wedge it further.

With the bottled scroll in hand, I turn to the sea, wind up, and toss it into the depths. The bottle floats on the surface, deep blue waves crashing against the glass. After several seconds, it disappears in a shimmering flash of blue. My grip creaks against the wood, and I snap my gaze from left to right, looking for any signs of it, but it’s just—gone.

“Um,” I blurt, clearing my throat.

Anne’s eyes are closed, her hands clutched under her chin. “Um? Why, um, Jack?”

“Is it—” This news can go one of two ways, and I’m praying it’s what she wants to hear. “—is it supposed to disappear into nothingness?”

Anne joins me at the railing, a wide grin plastered to her gorgeous face, eyes glossy with tears. “Yes. It worked.” She slaps her hand on the wood. “It worked . They’ll know I’m safe.” She grabs my face, pulls me to her lips, and kisses me, sweet and salty, with a tear rolling down her cheek.

“Glad someone’s safe,” Duke barks. “Because we’re sure not.”

Despite clear blue skies, an unexplainable fog appears, surrounding the ship.

“Anne, who exactly are the sea witch’s daughters?” I draw my cutlass and ready my pistol in the opposite hand.

Anne reacts in kind but freezes with her cutlass halfway from its sheath as if stuck. She pulls and pulls until her emerald eyes flare at me. “The Sirens.”

It’s both an answer to my question and the cause for the fog, their eerie singing tones piercing the air. That same buzz I’d experienced before rattles my brain, but I shake it away. I’d overcome the Sirens’ pull with Anne’s aid and can do it again. Or, if I’m really lucky, perhaps I’m immune? I’m not banking on this because I never did believe much in dumb luck.

“Didn’t the sea witch threaten you only some thirty seconds ago?”

“Plug your ears,” Anne shouts, still struggling to wield her sword. She curses against the wind and relents, spinning on her heel to face me. “When she said I couldn’t harm them, I didn’t think it meant I wouldn’t even be able to have a weapon in hand .”

Always a fucking loophole.

I hear her, but she sounds distant and echoing, the buzz growing louder in my head, pounding in it. “Annie, I?—”

Snap the hell out of it, Rackham. If you let this witch win, Anne won’t be able to defend herself, let alone any of the crew.

“Jack,” Anne yells, patting her hands on my cheeks repeatedly. “Stay with me.”

Her words pull me back. But when her lips fall on mine, the kiss doesn’t cure me. Anne realizes this, too, when my mouth stills against hers. She slowly steps away, her eyes frantically searching my face, her bottom lip trembling.

“No harm can come to them. My kiss won’t work now because it’d allow you to harm them because of me.” Anne pushes against my chest, using her elbows, legs, back, and anything she can to force me away from the ship’s edges.

My brain disconnects from my body. No matter how hard I try to tell my legs to stop walking or yell at my arm to raise the cutlass, it’s all ignored for this damnable, unrelenting melody. Every man aboard is meandering in the same direction as I am, their feet shuffling the deck like it’s covered in sticky sludge.

Anne wraps a rope around my ribs, pinning my arms at my sides. As she ties a knot, it refuses to stay tight, repeatedly loosening with each attempt. She roars the word “fuck.” Considering I’ve only heard her curse a handful of times, and most of those times are when I’ve been pounding the daylights out of her—this can’t be good. And I swear I can hear the sea witch’s cackles floating along with the wind. The pistol and cutlass fall from my grasp, rattling and bouncing to the deck.

Anne slides in front of me, pushing my chest, punching it, and slaps me in the face. It smarts like a son of a bitch, but I can’t so much as joke with her about hitting like a girl. She suddenly gasps and snaps her fingers. “She said I can’t harm them and had no idea we have another woman in our crew.”

Mary. My intelligent, beautiful Anne is going to get Mary to slaughter them.

“Jack, try to hold out a little longer for me. Please .” Anne kisses my cheek and squeezes my hand.

Her pleading makes me grimace, and I’m able to stop walking for a few seconds, the guilt of me willingly dragging myself to the grave to leave her punching at my gut. How can I be so selfish?

Anne sprints across the deck, shoving Red, Glog, and Aranck away from the railing. For fuck’s sake, it’s entrancing Truffles and the imp as well. What kind of maniac lures a defenseless cat to their death? Honestly. This realization should make me far more furious than I can feel. No. The only thought as I edge closer and closer is to step into their warm embrace. To let the soothing song make it painless as they consume me.

Several human hands grip the railing, snow-like skin and knuckles turning red as if trying to pull themselves from the water. As if—they’re drowning. My steps quicken, and my fingers reach for the first hand I see gripping over the railing. A woman’s head appears from the fog, hair as dark as midnight, eyes a muted red. Her crimson lips part, the melody fluttering from her throat, lulling me toward her. I’ve never been this close to them before. I want to think they’re beautiful but can’t seem to say it.

The Siren’s hand curls around the back of my neck. Given how warm the song makes me feel, it’s far colder than I imagined, but I’m still letting her pull me toward the water. A sword slashes the air in front of me, narrowly missing the tip of my nose, and slices through the woman’s arms. She lets out such a bone-chilling shriek, so at odds with the song she’d been singing, it makes me blink, temporarily jolting me back to reality.

“Not today, Captain,” Mary says, patting my cheek and shoving me backward. She barrels across the deck, slicing, slashing, and leaving a bloody Siren massacre in her wake.

Anne rushes back, the world diving into slow motion as she pierces me with that frantic jade gaze. She’s worried and panicked, and somehow, the Siren music starts fading to a dull buzz. My heart concentrates instead on the sound of the waves crashing against the hull, the fish leaping from the water, and seagulls squawking above as they circle, looking for food. The alarm in Anne’s expression when she spots me peering straight at her softens, and it coils a tightness in my chest.

Mary continues to fend them off, dark blue blood spattering her clothes and cheeks, but she doesn’t relent. Each man begins to gradually come to their senses as the Sirens retreat into the depths, cradling their wounds and leaving inky trails behind them. Anne’s lips mouth my name, but I still can’t hear her. Only the sea echoes in my ears. And like the backdraft from an explosion, everything comes bursting in at once—the Sirens’ fading screams, the chatter from the confused crew, and Anne repeatedly shouting my name from only a few paces away.

Wincing from her loudness, I close my eyes and slip a hand over her mouth. “Yes, Annie?”

“Thank the Seas,” she breathes and leaps against my chest.

I catch her and peck kisses across her cheeks and nose to reassure her I’m back to my old self.

“You were right,” Anne whispers, her slender fingers twirling my hair.

My hands are cupping her ass, and I tap a finger against one cheek. “You’ll need to be more specific, as I’m right on quite a few things.”

I receive a well-deserved swat on my collarbone, and she rests her head there. “I should’ve bargained with her more. Instead, I put you and every man on board in danger.”

Nodding, I carry her with her legs wrapped around my waist and sit on a barrel. “Are any of us dead?”

Anne quickly surveys the crew, letting out a breath when all are accounted for, and then relaxes on my lap. “No.”

“And did you think on your feet? Took care of it?” Brushing her hair away from her neck, gazing at the bare skin, I kiss her there.

“Yes. I mean, Mary did.”

“No, you did. Because Mary wouldn’t have started dicing up sea folk out of respect for you.” I poke a finger between her breasts. “She did it because you asked.”

“Damn right I did.” Mary saunters to our sides, wiping her cutlass blade on her sleeve, ridding it of Siren blood. “And Anne, darling, anytime you want me to take on a horde of evil sea creatures, just say the word.” A flash of white blazes between her lips, brightened more by the dark speckles on her cheeks.

“What in the ever-loving hell? Who can say they’ve been attacked by Sirens not only once but twice and not remember a fucking thing?” Red is nearby talking to Glog, and both men drag hands over their faces, taking turns to snap a quick look at the water and ensuring they’re gone.

The fog has lifted, and blue skies return, the wind picking up precisely where we need it to continue northeast. I pat Anne’s thigh, setting her back to the deck, and take her hand, leading us to the helm. But I pause, spotting a scared imp clinging to an equally terrified Truffles, shaking like leaves in a stern breeze. Squatting, I pick up Truffles, and the imp comes with him because he won’t let go of his fur.

“You’re strangely calm about all of this, Jack.” Anne curls her arm with mine.

I take the steps to the wheel, resting Truffles and the imp in his cat bed in the corner. “Don’t see much of a point dwelling on it. We’ve quite a bigger fish to deal with, and I mean that metaphorically as much as I do in the literal sense. We’re all alive, and I’ve no scratch on me.”

“They can return, but I still can’t do anything.” Anne strokes one of the wheel’s pegs, and the sight turns my dick into granite.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I force my eyes away and squint at the horizon. “If they’re stupid enough to return and succumb to Mary Read’s wrath again, then they deserve to die.”

“How do you always know the right thing to say?” Anne’s smile rivals any fire guiding sailors home.

“Life, Annie. Life.” I turn the wheel enough to make the sails catch the wind and let it take over.

“Considering all we’ve dealt with already, there’s no way it can get any worse,” Glog says, chuckling and receiving death glares from the surrounding crew.

My grip tightens on the wheel. “Glog, I know I’m not superstitious, but what did I say shan’t ever be spoken on my ship?”

Glog’s gulp is so profound you can see his throat bob. “Never say never?”

“That’s right. Don’t repeat it, or I’ll dangle you from the plank as shark bait.” It’s a hollow threat, as I’d never demand such a punishment for a simple word, but it’d certainly make me feel better.

I do not believe in jinxes. I don’t. But to sail to Greece, we’ll need to pass through the place that hunts pirates, which I left behind without looking back. We’ll need to sail waters crawling with Navy ships—England.