A Pirate's Revenge (Legends of the Soaring Phoenix) (17 page)

“I told you to stay below deck,” Kane said.

“Let go of me,” Hannah said. “You don’t even know if there’s any danger.”

“Neither do you. I’m ordering you to go below.”

Mariah stepped around William and met Kane’s steely gaze. “There is no danger,
Capitaine
. ’Tis only a spell. Sometimes my magic takes human form, but ’tis not real, not like you and me.”

Hannah broke free of Kane’s clasp. “I’m not in danger, Kane. I think I’ve proven once or twice that I’m capable of defending myself.”

Kane mumbled underneath his breath and moved around Hannah. “Is there anything else coming on board my ship?” His voice wary, he pulled his pistol out of his belt and peered over the side of the ship. He cocked his pistol as if expecting sea creatures to crawl up the port side.

Mariah edged closer to William, and he wrapped his arm around her.

Reassurance filled her, and she raised her head, meeting
le capitaine’s
accusatory glare. “No.
Grand-mère
says I do this because I look at the spells differently and give them human traits. The spell is supposed to aid my brother.”

Kane leaned against the railing and folded his arms across his chest. “How? Can this spell break the
yari?
”

Mariah shook her head. “
Je suis désolé, non
. The spell will help Lark fight the darkness and the pain that threatens to consume him. Natasa put a scarab inside him.”

Kane ran his hand over the butt of his revolver. “And?”

“The scarab is attacking Lark’s white magic,” she said. “His eyes…”

“What about them?” Kane demanded.

“They are turning darker.”

William stiffened next to her and dropped his arm. Her back went cold where his arm had been.

“Turning?” Hannah asked.

Ignoring the men, Mariah faced Hannah. “
Oui
, when they are black, he will be lost to us forever.”

“So, he’s a warlock?” William asked.

“No. Not yet,” she answered. “Since we were siblings, we can appear in each other’s dreams.” Mariah said, trying to control her shaky voice. “But not if he were a warlock.”

“You saw him?” Hannah asked.

“I saw him strapped to a breaking wheel.”

“Bloody hell,” Kane said.

Hannah clasped Mariah’s hand and squeezed. “I’m sorry, Mariah.”

“
Merci
.” The small gesture gave Mariah strength. Hannah was becoming more than an ally. She was becoming a friend. A friend who knew what ’twas like to be distrusted because of her magic.  

Kane’s cheek twitched. “What color are Lark’s eyes?”

“Gray.”

William gripped her shoulder and turned her around. “How much time?”

“With the herbs, possibly two weeks. I cannot promise the spell will reach him in time.”

“And if it does not?” Kane asked.

“Less than a week,” Mariah said. “Once a male witch starts to turn to the dark side, the metamorphosis hastens.”  

Kane gazed out onto the horizon. “Meaning your brother is turning into a warlock destined to destroy my ship.”

William gestured to the sea. “’Tis a grand ocean. I doubt your spell will even find the
Fiery Damsel
in time. We must be prepared for the worst.”

Mariah bristled. Could he not have even the smallest faith in her? ’Twas a constant uphill battle with him. Why was she attracted to a man who obviously scorned her magic? Why could not she be attracted to a man who had faith in her? Like Ronan.

“My spells are potent.” At least, she hoped they were. “But there is a problem.”

Kane took a menacing step toward her. “What problem?” 

Mariah refused to cower. “Once the spell reaches Lark, Natasa will sense its presence. She will retaliate.”

“And when were you planning to share this?” Kane glowered and gripped her arms tight. Death flared in his eyes.

Fear skittered down her spine. “No, I…”

“When the
Damsel
appeared out of the shadows to sink my ship?” Kane demanded. “I don’t like surprises.”

“Kane,” William warned. “Release her. Now.”

Surprised that he did, Mariah rubbed her throbbing arms. “We do not have many choices,
Capitaine
. Will you trust me,
oui
?”

“Not if you’re keeping the truth from us,” Kane said. He reached for her again.

William blocked his hand and shook his head.

Kane glared at William. He turned to Mariah. “Don’t lie to me again.” He pulled out a dagger and aimed it at Mariah’s thumping heart. “Or keep a secret from me. Am I clear?”

Mariah’s voice stuck in her throat. She managed to nod. Terror seeped into her soul.  Why had she come on this dreadful voyage? In Tortuga, the Feys’ were welcomed and had honor. Aboard the
Phoenix
, her every move was questioned and regarded with suspicion and malice.

“Kane put the dagger away,” William demanded.

“She’s endangering my crew.”

“I said put it away.”

The tension between the brothers sizzled and cracked in the air. “Are you questioning my command?” Kane asked.

William knocked the dagger out of Kane’s hand. “When it comes to her, I am.”

“You’re pushing me too far, little brother.” He glanced between Mariah and William. “She’s turning you against me,” Kane said.

William rolled his eyes. “No, she isn’t.”

“I’d never turn him against you,
Capitaine
,” Mariah insisted.

“I don’t believe you,” Kane said. “William never trusts magic and now he’s defending you. ’Tis madness. Amadi?”

Amadi emerged from the shadows.

His dark scowl and looming presence sent Mariah’s heart beating so hard that she thought it would burst from her chest. She shrank behind William.

“Aye, Capt’n,” Amadi said.

“Lock her in the brig,” Kane ordered.

“Kane!” Hannah cried. “You’re being unreasonable.”

“Don’t argue with me on this, Hannah. She’s bewitched my brother.”

“No,” she said. “Your arrogance is clouding your judgment!”

Amadi reached for Mariah.

William shoved him. “Stay away from her,” he snarled.

“Take them both to the brig,” Kane ordered.

Hannah clasped Kane’s arm.“Will you stop?” 

“You’ll not question my command, lass.” He grabbed Hannah’s arm and dragged her away.

“Release me!” Hannah slapped his hand and dug her heels onto the deck, but her attempts to escape were useless.

A lump nestled in Mariah’s throat like a clump of flour, refusing to melt away. She could not swallow or scream as men approached them. Only William stood between her and the pirates, weapons drawn, now surrounding them.

***

Lark woke with a start. His raw wrists and ankles throbbed from the rack’s manacles, reminding him he was in hell. He had summoned Mariah in his dream, but he did not know if she could help him. Her look of horror tore him apart. She had been so sheltered, and to see the terrors of the world ripping away her innocence drenched him with sorrow. But maybe she needed to know what lay ahead—a monster and an evil bitch.

His muscles screamed, and he had difficulty breathing. He shivered and winced, the slightest twinge sending waves of anguish through him.

A flicker of movement caught his eye in the corner. He blinked? Was that smoke? Aromatic scents dampened the mildew odor. Wetness brushed over his body, salt stung his wounds, and he cringed, clamping his mouth tight to keep from howling with pain. 

Rather than smoke, a mist of water twirled beside the breaking wheel, taking the form of an Egyptian woman with violet eyes. Isis. His sister’s eyes. The form dissipated into flakes of herbs. 

“Mariah,” he whispered. He wanted to weep, missing his sister.

He opened his mouth, and the herbs gently descended onto his tongue and melted. Mint cooled his parched throat while other sweet herbs soothed his frothing gut, and his hunger faded. Warmth spread through him. And hope. For the first time since Natasa’s magical scarab had burrowed inside him, the pain lessened. Despite the agony pulsating in his joints and muscles, the herbs gave him strength to fight Natasa, to not give into hate.

Beneath his skin, the scarab moved fast and erratic. It scurried around as the power of the white magic chased it.

Footsteps clipped down the stairwell. Natasa. Her evil smile faded upon entering the brig. “What’s that foul smell?” Her eyes widened. “Wait. What happened to you?” She held up her hand. “Stop, in the name of Maketabori.”

A red ray shot out of her hand and flew across the brig toward Lark. It slammed into his lips, tiny electrical shocks stinging him, and it tried to force his mouth open. He concentrated on the mint and sweetness dissolving in his mouth and ignored the pain, clamping his jaw tight. The stinging red smoke tried to fly up his nose, but he exhaled. A white flash burst out of his nostrils, wrapping around the red smoke, consuming it. 

He took a quivering breath to push back his anger. 

“No!” Natasa raced to Lark and clutched his mangled shoulders, digging her nails into his flesh.

She blew onto his face, and her wretched breath slipped into his nose, burning his lungs and simmering acid in his gut. “Give into your hate.”

He focused on the lavender comforting his mouth. It spread reassurance, love, and forgiveness squashing the bubbling hate. He could gaze at Natasa without the urge to rip out her heart.

She sniffed like a blood hound. “Damn it! Dittany of Crete and pennyroyal.” She slapped him hard across the face, and pain exploded on his cheek. “Who gave this to you?”

The scarab raced around in Lark’s stomach, its spiky feet pulling on his gut. It ran up his throat, and he gagged.

She pinched his cheeks. “What’s wrong with you?” 

He opened his mouth. The scarab leaped out smacked Natasa in the middle of her forehead.

She screamed and swiped the scarab off her. It landed on the filthy, stained floor and raced around in circles. With one squeal, it flipped over and stopped moving. The beetle turned white, and one by one, the legs fell off.

“You’ve killed my pet.”

She grabbed his hair and sniffed again. “Pennyroyal, Solomon’s Seal.” Her brow wrinkled. “I can’t detect the other two.” She glared. “What are the other two substances, boy?”

Mariah’s herbs surged through him, tingles rushing over his body, numbing the pain. His joints mended back into his sockets.

“Tell me.”  

He glared, refusing to answer.

“No matter.” She released him. “The spell, ’twas not cast far from here. ’Tis too strong to come from Tortuga. Your sister must be on board a ship. The
Soaring Phoenix
perhaps?”

Lark kept his jaw shut tight.

“How dare you defy me, witch!” Natasa said. “I’ll be able to tell where your brat sister is.” She ran her hand over his chest. “All I’ve got to do is kiss you.” 

Lark shuddered. He would rather be cast into a boiling cauldron and have his skin melt off than kiss Natasa.

Natasa pressed her palms on to his cheeks, forcing his lips to pucker, and kissed him. Where sweetness and mint had soothed his mouth, now bitterness burned his tongue. Lark jerked free of her gasp. “I hate you.”

“Ah, good. Your hate is returning. Perhaps your sister’s not as strong as Maketabori believed.”

She patted his cheek. He spat into her eyes and waited for her to hit him again. A slow smile spread across her lips, and she laughed. He wished she would have hit him, this was worse, much worse.

“Yes, your bitch sister is near, and she’s not alone. The dragon is with her. Soon both will be mine.”

“Leave my sister be!”

“So, she’s your weakness.” She laughed. “Don’t worry, witch. You won’t be alone much longer. Too much loneliness can drive a man mad.” She kissed him hard again and released him.

“Please no. I will do anything,
oui
?”

“Ah, yes, I know you will. But your sister needs a lesson in what happens when she meddles in my affairs.”

“Natasa, leave her alone. You have me,
oui
?”

“You don’t understand, slave. I like to punish those who disobey me.” She sauntered out of the brig.

With each click of her shoes on the stairs, dread drummed deeper into his thumping heart.

He struggled on the wheel. It creaked and spun around slowly, pulling on his limbs. The pain did not matter. He would suffer through it. How could he be so arrogant? Thanks to him, Mariah would be forced to battle magic with a black-hearted demon.