Freedom's Horizon (WLW) (Full Trilogy - Ongoing/Editing)

Book One: Part Two: Chapter Twenty-Seven

February 1726, Drifting in the Caribbean Sea, Journeying to Kingston, Jamaica

Margaret stared at Taria as she sat back in their boat, letting her hand hang over its side. She trailed it through the water they mysteriously sailed within in utter silence. They hadn't even rowed a single ore. In fact, Taria had dispatched them as soon as she took her seat in the boat and they left the island. They were apparently traveling in the same direction as Esme and Aimee as if they were a beacon. The boat was far enough behind them that Margaret knew they couldn't have noticed them without a looking glass and she hadn't been able to get a great gaze ahead. Especially once they made it ashore and Margaret's group was still sailing toward Kingston.

In reality, she couldn't even see them anymore and apprehension filled her entirety. Margaret tucked Lana in closer to her chest. Her concern over whether Taria may try something was too great. Although the moment she held her near, she heard what she could only describe as a cackle from the other end of the small vessel. Taria watched both Lana and Margaret stare at her with an amused grin and Margaret felt her blood begin to boil.

"When we meet up with Aimee, you will not be laughing so carelessly, Taria." The name left her lips in a sort of sneer, but the small woman simply appeared even more gladdened for this new source of entertainment.

"Is that right, Margaret?" Taria leaned nearer and she recoiled, taking Lana with her. She glanced down at her and found her curled into a ball. Her face was buried in her vest that had to smell of gunpowder and rum. Giving her back a few small rubs, Margaret met Taria's gaze and refused to look away again. "And what makes you think either Aimee or Essie could ever overpower me?"

"They do not need whatever sorcery you practice to beat you. They just need their strength and us. Their real family."

Taria narrowed her eyes and one of her nostrils twitched in obvious annoyance. "You talk a big game, Captain Margaret, but the fact remains that none of you carry my strength. Even if Aimee was somehow able to awaken her latent abilities, I am much older and tend to get what I want."

"Not from what I have heard." She snickered and felt Lana relax a bit against her chest.

"And what have you heard?"

"That something was stolen from you centuries ago and you couldn't find it yourself, so you enlisted all of us and still you could not achieve your desires. Neither you, nor Francisco ever will." Margaret bit her lip to not say more and felt a snarl playing at them.

Seemingly perturbed, Taria leaned forward in but a hair's breadth. She leaned only a few mere inches from them both with such haste that Margaret startled backward a bit. She caught her from falling back by the ropes around her wrists, causing her to wince as they burned her skin. Taria studied her eyes for several silent moments, making her gulp, then the strangest thing happened. She grew calm just as rapidly as she had grown fierce and the air pushing their sails ceased. Margaret felt her heartbeat may be loud enough for all to hear, it echoed so loudly in the complete quiet.

Then, Taria spoke. "What has convinced you I am the devil?"

"Perhaps our bound wrists?"

Taria chuckled and pulled a knife from her sash. She cut their ropes free and gazed toward them with what Margaret could only assume was curiosity. Lana clung tighter to her, wrapping herself around her. She stayed in her lap, facing away from Taria as she trembled from head-to-toe. Taria sat back as she crossed her arms and peered out at the water surrounding them.

"I am not the villain of the story, Margaret. Most certainly not yours." She glanced back toward Margaret and sighed as she rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. Margaret could only stare as her confusing turn of phrase repeated in her mind. Most certainly not yours. If not mine, then whose? Did she mean me, or the whole crew? Taria took a steadying breath, then finally added, "This was not my aim when I set out from my homeland. This was not what I had in mind, but I am not the fiend you think of me. I would never harm the little girl. I would never hurt a child, nor you, Margaret. Pain was brought to me throughout my childhood and I do not ever aim to bring it upon another."