Shadows in the Trees: Book 1

Chapter 23

Her crew surrounded her, looked to her, but she couldn't speak. They were asking her questions, are you alright, what happened, but when her mind tried to form answers they withered away before they could take shape.

"Captain," Barnabas said. He was kneeling next to her, and his hands felt hot against her wet skin. "Your ribs are bruised, but I don't think they're broken." She blinked at him, staring into his watery blue eyes. Though his weathered face aged him, his eyes betrayed his youth. "Captain," Barnabas repeated.

She shook her head. "Yes, my . . . my ribs. That's good," she said. Barnabas nodded. She groaned as she stood up, holding her ribs, where purple bruises were already flowering. She walked to the side and clutched the rail, searching the water for the creatures. But the water was calm. No silver fins cut through its surface. She sighed, feeling relief and . . . disappointment?

 A shriek echoed from the prow of the ship, and the men shrank away from the rail. She wobbled to the prow, the crew following her reluctantly. Silver creatures whipped from the water, seeming to dance in the waves. The crew began to murmur, and she heard a few prayers uttered. The creatures waved and pointed to the west.

"Do they want us to . . . follow them?" Barnabas asked, his eyes wide.

"Yes," the captain said, breathless from the sight of the creatures. She wondered what other myths were real.

"Are we going to?" Whoredog asked. The crew leaned forward, anxiously awaiting her answer.

"Yes," she said. Her tone indicated that there was no room for argument.

"But Captain -- " Whoredog began.

"Do you trust me?" she interrupted. When no one answered, she turned to face her crew. "Do you want to be rich beyond your wildest dreams?"

"And those -- those things will take us to these riches? More likely they'll kill us!" one man called out.

"They'll probably kill us anyway if we don't. You saw what they did to us, we were clamoring to go overboard. And we've all grown up on stories of the hoards of the Kelpies. Why not take the chance?" Jeremiah said. A few men nodded in agreement.

"They're demons," another man said. "And they're supposed to be legends. We can't trust them." His eyes were glassy and his hands were shaking, clutching at his pendant of Malachi.

"They saved my life," the Captain said. The men quieted, and their eyes fixed on her. "They put me on that rock where you found me after the ship I was on crashed in the Koios Straight." The men began to whisper, and some visibly shuddered. "I would have drowned if not for them. I don't know what they are, or what they want, but I trust them. They told me they would take us to wealth like we couldn't imagine, and I believe them. I think we should follow them." The weight of their stares began to crush her, but she straightened her spine and stared back.

"You heard your Captain!" Barnabas called. "To your stations! Set sail for the west! Kaius, tell us where the creatures point next." The crew gaped for a moment; they had never heard Barnabas speak so loudly, or so authoritatively. "Go on!" Barnabas roared. The men jolted into action, calling to each other as they adjusted the ship to the west.

"Thank you, Barnabas," the Captain said. With the crew otherwise occupied, she slumped. Underneath the salt dried to her face, her skin was pallid.

"Let's take you to your chambers," Barnabas said. She took his arm gratefully.

Her cabin was blessedly quiet. Barnabas left the cabin as she peeled off her stiff clothes and wrung out her hair. She cleaned her skin as best she could before pulling on fresh clothes and falling into her bed.

Barnabas returned with a bowl of hot broth. She nodded in thanks and slurped at the bland stew, relishing the warmth that flooded her throat and stomach.

"Captain," Barnabas said hesitantly. She looked up from her broth. "What happened to you? What happened to me?"

She put her bowl in her lap. Her eyes grew distant and she swallowed hard. "The first ship I was on," she began. Her voice was hoarse. "The Blacklick."

"The Blacklick disappeared months ago," Barnabas said, his eyes wide. He crouched down next to her bed, like a child listening to a bedtime story. She nodded.

"We were late on our route; the company chose to switch captains last minute. The cargo was perishable, lots of exotic fruits and things. The captain convinced us to go through the Koios Straight so that we would make it on time." She shuddered. "We were nervous, but few truly believed in the superstitions. At worst, we thought they were perilous waters, sandbars, storms . . . we never imagined that there would be those things waiting for us," she said. "It was so foggy in there...it was already hard to see. Then, there were these voices, these beautiful voices, and suddenly the men were, they were possessed, and they went to the rail and . . . and . . . " Barnabas patted her shoulder, and she quickly wiped away the tears that had fallen. "I never even saw them until today. I tried to keep the ship steady, but we crashed, and I was flung into the water. I don't remember much after that, not until I woke up on that rock. I think they even left some fish for me? It was the strangest thing," she said, shaking her head. "And then, along came your ship, right to where I was. I don't know why they helped me, or what they want from me. I don't know what they are. But Barnanbas, they pulled me into the water and they -- they spoke to me."

"The spoke to you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I know it sounds mad. But she -- it -- whatever, pulled me underwater, and told me that they knew someone. Someone who could help me be the best, who could give me what I want."

"And you believe them?" he asked. She shrugged, hating how helpless she must have looked, hating how out of control she felt. "With all due respect, that doesn't make any sense."

"They saved me for a reason," she insisted. "I owe them, somehow."

"Are you letting your ambition blind you?" Barnabas asked. She looked at him sharply, and he shrank back. After a moment, she looked away and dragged a hand across her face.

"Perhaps," she conceded.

"The men believe you truly care about them. They value that, more than you could ever know," Barnabas said. "But they're scared. And fear can defeat loyalty." She nodded, mulling over her options. Finally, she exhaled and squared her shoulders.

"I need to rest tonight to let my ribs heal. After that I'll be back on deck," she said firmly. Barnabas nodded. "The creatures are powerful, and we don't know what they want or what they can do. For now, we will follow them, until I deem it is against our best interest. We must stay vigilant, and cautious. Please relate this to the crew, verbatim."

"Aye, Captain," Barnabas said, rising and going to the door.

"And Barnabas," she said, before he could close the door behind him. "Report to me any whisperings of mutiny." Barnabas stiffened.

"Aye, Captain."