CHAPTER 24

When we get back to the boat, every muscle in my body aches. Climbing the ladder is pure torture, though my shoulders have stopped bleeding. When I risk a glance under my shirt, I see five small holes on each shoulder—marks I know will scar.

The crew crowds around the deck, pushing to see how Rhat fared. The moment his head appears at the top of the ladder, the other sailors let out a rising cry. The gold he’s carrying gets an even bigger welcome. Rhat stands with his arms above his head, basking in his hero’s welcome.

The men all rush to congratulate him. He starts digging around in his bag, tossing out coins and small items to the men. Brus catches a golden vase. When he turns around, there’s a genuine smile on his face. I wouldn’t say it makes him look any more pleasant, but at least he doesn’t look poised to slit my throat for once.

After everyone’s received a piece or two, Rhat holds up a hand, quieting the men. He pushes through them, making his way to me. He gives Hettie a smile as he passes her, and her cheeks go bright crimson.

“I may be the first man to survive an encounter with the Temptresses of Triton,” he says, angling to face the sailors, “but I wouldn’t be here if Princess Kora and Lady Hettie hadn’t saved me. This gold is a gift from them.” He grabs one of my hands and one of Hettie’s and holds them in the air. “Let’s hear it for the true heroes!”

The men let out a good holler in our honor.

Brus doesn’t join in, but he doesn’t protest either. Instead, I find him looking at me. I’m not sure what he sees, but our eyes meet for a moment before he meanders off to compare his treasure with the rest of the crew’s. And I realize that might be as close as he gets to an apology.

Amidst the hoopla, Rhat leans and whispers into my ear, “Thank you.”

“Thank Captain Corelli,” I say. “Her theory was right.”

Rhat laughs and gives my hand a squeeze before dropping it and pulling Hettie into a makeshift dance as they join the others celebrating.

Hettie slaps a silver tiara laced with emeralds on my hair as she goes by, and motions for me to join them, but I shake my head.

I stroll to the railing and look out to sea. Already the golden pools have reverted to darkness, and the cliffs are fading into the distance. When I look down at my hands, I see my skin sparkling slightly in the moonlight. I pull off my gloves, wincing a little at the fresh wounds from the rope. At least the salt water has cleaned them nicely.

Cool wind rushes between my fingers. I wiggle them, letting them play in the breeze.

Has it really been ten years since I’ve felt this sensation? Or any real sensation? I stare down at my deflated gloves resting on the railing. I pick them up and weigh them in my palm. They’re so delicate. So easily torn apart. I used to believe the same of myself.

Without thinking about it, I heave my gloves into the ocean. They tumble into the waves and are quickly swallowed.

Those certainly aren’t my only pair of gloves. I have at least another six sets, but at the moment, I don’t care.

I lean against the railing, running my fingers across the wood. It’s weathered and rough and in need of repair. Yet it feels wonderful. It feels alive. I run my hands along it, feeling each crack, smoothing down each splinter. I trace a finger down a nearby rope, pressing against each coarse strand.

I realize I don’t even remember what a human hand feels like in my own. And then I realize I want to find out.

I’m not going to let my gloves hold me back, and I shouldn’t let the ghost of Aris hold me back either.

I search for Royce among the crowd. I spot him leaning back against the mast with his arms folded across his chest, an amused look on his face. When he sees me watching, he pushes off and comes over. “No gloves?” He raises his brows, but doesn’t look afraid.

“Not for now,” I say, already picturing carrying the gold off Captain Skulls’s ship.

“Gloves and Temptresses in one day.” He smiles. “I’m impressed.”

Royce leans on the railing next to me so that our arms are touching. I can feel the heat radiating off his body.

I shiver.

“You’re freezing,” he says. “You should head downstairs and change out of those wet clothes.”

I shake my head. “Not yet. I want to see the sunrise. It’s always been my favorite time of day.” And today it means more than ever. Today, I survived more gold than I’ve ever seen.

He looks down at me. “Why’s that?”

“It means the nightmares are over.”

He nods knowingly. Then he seems to remember something and digs in his pocket. “Here.” He holds out what I think is a strand of pearls.

As I pick it up, the pearls unwind, and the center bauble comes into view. It’s a thin seashell no longer than my pinkie. Lines of pink and yellow stripe out from the center. The back is cast in silver, no doubt to make it stronger.

“The shell is called a sunrise tellin,” he supplies. “I thought someone who loves the sea as much as you do should have one.”

I run my finger across the shell’s glossy surface. It’s the smoothest thing I’ve ever felt.

“It’s the only item I did grab from the Temptresses’ lair when Rhat and Hettie were climbing in because it reminded me of you, like a sunrise on the outside and strong on the inside.” He shuffles his feet, strangely nervous.

My eyes go to his. There’s no way he could know how much this means to me, how it makes me think of my mother and all the seashells I collected after she died.

“I like it very much,” I manage.

He holds his hand out for the necklace. The pearls clink together as I pool it in his palms.

His fingers brush against my neck as he gently collects my hair and swoops it to the side. He loops the necklace around me before securing it.

For the first time, metal touching my skin doesn’t feel slimy. The silver doesn’t feel like it’s going to melt right off and absorb into me.

“Thank you,” I say.

He smiles, and we fall silent as the sun rises quietly into the sky, trailing pinks and purples behind it. A morning breeze accompanies the dawn, and I shiver again. I tuck my fingers under my arms to keep them warm.

“If you insist on staying out here, the least I can do is help you stay warm,” Royce says. He pulls off his jacket—a simple gray one with no gold, I note with relief—and drapes it over my shoulders.

It smells like the ocean, wild and yet familiar. I pull it close as we both turn to watch the sunrise.

“Thank you,” he says after a while. “For saving Rhat. You could’ve cut the rope and gotten out of there, but you didn’t. It took real bravery to make that decision.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I took him from Hettie.” I glance over to where the two of them are still dancing, though now they just sway in one another’s arms. “I’ve never seen her so happy.”

“At any rate,” Royce continues, “I know Rhat and the crew won’t soon forget it. They value loyalty above all else. They’ll do their best to get your gold back.”

His words remind me we’ve only recovered two pieces, and there are nine more to go. My eyes close on instinct to seek out the gold, and even before I open them again, I know I won’t find Royce standing in front of me. The scent of spilled wine overpowers my nostrils.

I’m in Captain Skulls’s cabin once more.

He stands by the window drinking out of a golden chalice, the mate to the one now on the Swanflight.

Seeing his pale lips on one of the cups my parents used to toast their wedding makes fury rise through my body. He sips deeply and turns toward me, only looking mildly surprised to see me standing on his ship.

The empty eyes of all the skulls around the room bore into me.

“You’re alive.” A grin spreads across his face. “I was so afraid I’d have to find a way to best the Temptresses myself in order to retrieve your skull. That would have been terribly inconvenient.”

“I defeated the Temptresses,” I say, straightening. “Now I’m coming for you.”

Several of the skulls’ jaws click and clack as the ship moves, almost like they’re talking. I shudder at the sound.

“You won’t get the gold without a fight.” The captain puts the chalice down on a small table next to him. “You’ve never been in a real battle, Princess. You’ve never seen the lifeless eyes or heard the moans that escape the lips of your friends when they’re lying there with swords through their chests.” He takes several steps closer. I hold my ground. He can’t hurt me in this form. I think. “If you agree to surrender, I’ll let all your friends go free. I’ll even give back your father’s gold. All you have to do is promise to work with me.”

I look away, noticing the floor of his cabin is stained with blood. Almost every plank of wood has been dyed the rusted color. It’s darker under the table. But it’s no dye that turned those boards. If I bring the men to face him, how many of them would end up in here, either as a game of sport for his men or as part of his collection?

My stomach recoils.

I imagine Hettie in the hands of his crew. I can’t let that happen.

I also can’t trust Captain Skulls.

“No deal,” I say. “You won’t hold up your end of the bargain no matter what I agree to.”

He frowns, making his already narrow face look even longer. “I was afraid you’d be this way.” He steeples his fingers under his chin. “After my men kill the crew you travel with, you’ll be much more amenable. If you’re not, I’ll drop every single piece of your father’s gold into the deepest part of the ocean I can find. Then you’ll never get it back.”

“You wouldn’t,” I stammer.

He laughs. He moves toward the table, picking up the golden necklace. He pushes open one of the windows and dangles it out. “Why wouldn’t I, when I know you can make me more?”

“I can’t turn things to gold,” I say. My heart leaps into my throat. I fight to stay calm, to not give him reason to suspect I’m lying, as panic at seeing the necklace swinging above the waves sets in.

He lets the necklace slip farther through his fingers. “That’s not what I’ve heard.” He swings the chain back and forth. “Now, run along back to the Swanflight and tell Royce he can find me where we met last time near Port Tamur, the time he thought he killed me. I am growing tired of this game of cat and mouse. I’m ready to see what you can do.” He picks up the golden chalice once more and takes a swig.

I know Royce won’t like the meeting point. But neither of us seem to have any say in the matter, especially since I can’t risk not meeting Captain Skulls, lest he dump the rest of the gold in the ocean.

“We’ll be there,” I say.

“Good,” Captain Skulls replies, pulling the necklace back inside and tossing it on the table. “I’ll see you there in about seven days. I’ve got to make a little stop first.”

His golden teeth gleam as he grins.

Immediately, I let the cabin fade as I focus on the cup and coin.

I wake to find myself collapsed in Royce’s arms once more.

His blue eyes are focused on mine. It’s almost blinding how bright they are compared to Captain Skulls’s. The ocean breeze drags strands of his hair across his forehead.

“Are you going to make a habit of this?” Royce asks, a smile playing about his lips.

“I’ve got a message from Captain Skulls.”

He sobers instantly and helps me to my feet.

“He wants to meet.”

“Where?”

“Where you almost killed him last time off the coast of Port Tamur.”

If the news disturbs him, he doesn’t let it show. He simply nods, accepting it.

“What else did he say? Did he give any clues about what he’s planning? He’s always planning something.”

“He wanted me to surrender. He said he’d let everyone else go.” Even though I know I can’t trust him, the offer is tempting. I’d give anything to keep Hettie and Royce and Rhat and my father safe.

“He’ll double-cross you faster than you can blink.”

“I know,” I say, sighing. “I didn’t agree to his terms.”

He places his arm on my shoulder. “I knew you wouldn’t. Now we just have to find a way we can all get out of this alive when he outguns us nearly two to one.”

“He won’t use his cannons,” I say, “not while I’m on board. He won’t risk it. He wants me alive.” Then another thought kills my newfound joy. “But we can’t use ours either. We can’t risk sinking his ship while the gold’s on it.”

“We’ll think of something,” Royce tells me.

I hope he’s right.