Chapter 3

Oatmeal sloshed from my ladle into fourteen bowls the next morning, however, two bowls remained on the counter, clinking together as the ship rocked. I wondered if I were even allowed to go above deck, or if my womanly presence would curse the ship further. Stupid. Men were so stupid. Maybe Quintin was standing at the top of the stairs waiting for me to dare show my face again after his loud disapproval of my very existence the night before. Regardless, there were two men without food, and my little innkeeper heart couldn't stand the thought of one of the idiots going hungry. Maybe they were afraid to be near me. Afraid that some of my woman-aboard-a-ship bad luck would get them gobbled up by some man-eating fish. The idea made me giggle as I clutched the bowls and stepped into the jarring sunlight. The usual bustle of activity was lessened, and I looked around, not sure what to even search for. Boat life was all foreign to me. The top deck was always littered with ropes and metal things and water and whatever else.

"Who didn't get their breakfast?" I asked to the back of the men's heads as they looked over the side of the ship. They turned to me after a few moments, one taking off his hat and closing his eyes in prayer. Looking amongst them, I noticed some missing.

Quintin strode forward, and before I could react, slammed his fist against my forearm, knocking the bowls and shattering them to the ship's floor. "You tell us, woman. Who lost their lives last night because of you?" His voice was graveled and stern, and the look of murderous rage tightened my throat.

"Wh-what?"

Captain Fig intervened, "Men go overboard, son. It ain't the first time."

"It's the gods damned sugar seas!" Quintin shouted. "How many more men should we lose before we can't man the ship? All for her?"

"Go back to the galley," Captain Fig instructed me lowly, stepping between me and the giant, hot-headed sailor. He didn't have to tell me twice. I scurried away, frightened, and feeling guilty somehow. "We need her," I heard the captain say in a hushed and soothing tone behind me. And a new sort of fear settled over me.

The fear that not only was I ignorant to sailor ways and customs, but perhaps my presence aboard was too easy, too odd. There was so much I should have questioned, so much I should have thought through. I was an ignorant girl running away from home. And that ignorance was about to bite me in the ass in a big way.

The next morning, four additional bowls of oatmeal were unclaimed. Leaving the crew at only eight men.

Captain Fig swallowed hard as he clutched the captain's wheel. "We ain't got much further if the stars are right." I heard him say when I creeped up to eavesdrop on the stairs. I wasn't allowed on deck anymore. And could only guess at what was transpiring each night that left men missing at sea. Was there a murderer aboard the ship? What other explanation could there be? Quintin had not appeared, but to my small and selfish dismay, I'd heard his voice berating the captain. Quintin was still alive, and I didn't doubt for a moment that if he saw an opportunity to end my life, he wouldn't hesitate.

Surely some sort of shore had to be nearby. We'd been traveling for nearly two weeks by my count. This land of bells should be near, surely, wherever it was and whatever it held remained a mystery. No one spoke to me, and the captain didn't come to check on me either. As the sun sank and the light below deck dimmed, I decided I wouldn't hide that night.

Men were disappearing somehow, maybe through murder, maybe through delirium, causing them to jump overboard. But I wouldn't be able to figure it out and possibly keep more of them alive unless I pieced the clues together for myself.

There were many times at the inn when the men wouldn't show up in time, with the wood for the fires, or with their deliveries of food or beer, and Rummy and I would have to make do and concoct a plan without them. We always did, always found a way to keep the stoves on and the inn heated. And I didn't come all this way to be stranded in the middle of nowhere. I didn't want to die… though my heart hurt as if it had been stabbed to death. I just wanted away from everything, the inn… if she could move on and have a brand new life, then so could I.

So, I sat. I sat at the top of the stairs, leaning against the wall as the ship rocked back and forth like a baby's cradle, the smell of rum and tobacco burning my nose as the wind flapped through the fabric of the sails. Waiting, waiting. For what, I wasn't sure, but I stayed in the shadow of the door and out of sight as the crew milled about.

"You hear her?" A man's voice asked softly, and my eyes flickered open.

Another man answered as I rubbed my temple. "Oh, she sounds so beautiful."

"Cover your ears!" someone shouted. "Grab the girl, I'm done with this– they can have her!"

There was a splash, and a man screamed, guttural and wet with something I suspected was more than seawater. My heart beat in my chest as I strained forward against the boat as it rocked roughly.

Droplets pricked against my face, and a bolt of lightning splintered across the sky. Mountains of water rose around us, striking fear into my being of the likes I'd never experienced before. The black tides furled around us, throwing the ship like a rag doll, and as I looked around the empty dock, I made eyes with the captain as he clutched the wheel of the ship.

"You've done it, you've damned us all! May the sugar seas take ye as an offering!" He yelled out, clearly drunk, with a crazed look in his eye. I stepped forward as thunder clapped so loudly my ears hurt. My foot caught on a rope, and I slipped, falling backwards. My head knocked against something metal, and then, everything beyond the thunder stopped, the rain lost its feeling, and all fear and panic faded away on the tide.

And then everything went pitch black.