Shadows in the Trees: Book 1

Chapter 39

Pain was the first sensation to return. Pain everywhere. Her neck, her ribs, her back, her legs, particularly her left knee. Consciousness came and went, rolling in and out like the tide. No matter how hard she tried to hold on, she always succumbed to the pain.

Finally, after gods know how long, she was able to open her eyes. She was in her bunk in the cabin, propped up with pillows. There was something cold and hard underneath her bottom, and she realized with horror that it was a bed pan. 

"The Captain's wakin' up!" she heard someone say. When she opened her eyes, she saw Jeremiah's back as he raced up to the top of the deck. Barnabas slumped in her desk chair, which he had situated beside her bed. He leaped to his feet when she tried to raise herself to a sitting position. 

"Let me help you," he said, holding his hands out. When she nodded, he gently hooked his hands under her arms and hoisted her up. He adjusted the pillows behind her. 

"Thank you," she croaked. Just sitting up had left her out of breath and her face warm. "The deal?" 

"The deal? Completed as you planned. We're on course for the Fae island now," Barnabas said. He helped her sip from a small cup filled with lukewarm water. She raised her eyebrow. "It went very well. Made more than expected, in fact. And we got everything from the list for the Fae." She nodded and leaned back and closed her eyes

Her peace did not last long. There was a thundering of footsteps as several men ran below deck to her cabin. They burst in and crowded around her bed. 

"Captain! We thought the One God would take you for sure," one said. 

"It's so good to see you awake and moving!" another said. She did her best to smile. 

"Quiet down! The Captain needs her rest, you're scarin' her," Barnabas said. 

"No," she croaked, shaking her head. "It's alright." 

"Captain," one said softly. She realized it was Kaius, his dark hair falling over his crooked nose. "Who did this to you?" 

She tried to swallow. "I don't know. They didn't tell me who they were working for." 

"How many were there?" Barnabas asked. She held up three fingers. "You never returned to the ship. Did they ambush you on the way back from the tavern?" She nodded. The men exchanged meaningful looks. 

"I'm sorry, Captain. We all are," Jeremiah said. "We shouldn't've let you go back alone." 

She reached for his hand and shook her head. "It's not your fault. I can handle myself." 

"We know that," Whoredog said. He was standing at the foot of the bed behind some of the other men. "You escaped three men, after all, you little thing!" The men laughed and cheered, and she smiled. 

"Alright, alright, everyone out! The Captain needs rest," Jeremiah said, shooing the men out. They said their goodbyes and filed back up to the main deck. She was sad to see them go, but she was exhausted. Every breath was a struggle, and she had to fight to keep her consciousness. 

Jeremiah shut the door to the cabin and turned to face her. She knew she must have been a pitiful sight. He crossed the room to her, and put his fingers to her wrist and neck. He put the back of his hand to her forehead. 

"I didn't know you were a doctor," she teased. She coughed and blood spattered down her shirt. Barnabas grabbed a cloth from the table beside her bed and gently cleaned her mouth, chin, and neck. 

Jeremiah frowned, deepening the lines in his face. "I'm not. But I know enough to know that you won't last long like this." 

"What does she need to cure her?" Barnabas asked, his blue eyes wide. She noticed the dark smudges beneath them and wondered how long he had sat by her side. 

"There is no cure," Jeremiah said. "It's something inside, something we can't get to."

"There must be something," Barnabas said. After a few moments of staring at Jeremiah's grim expression, the color drained from his face. 

Fear sickened her stomach. With her family, death was a constant presence, one she thought she was comfortable with. At home she knew she could always outsmart it, outrun it, outlast it somehow; even if death was nipping at her heels, it could never catch her. But now, she was clamped in its icy jaws, and she had never felt so trapped, or so afraid. 

"The Fae!" Barnabas burst out. "They have advanced medicine, maybe even magic. There must be something they can do." 

Jeremiah scratched his chin. "Perhaps. If anyone could help, they could." His face darkened. "We'd have to explain to the crew why we're giving our beloved Captain over to an island of strangers. And the crew can't stay cooped up on the boat until she's healed without any explanation; there'll be mutiny." 

"We could continue without her," Barnabas said desperately. 

"Not as successfully as we have been. And who would be in charge? You?" Barnabas said nothing. "I thought so. By the time she heals, she'll have to fight to get her place back." 

"So we tell the crew," Barnabas said. 

"No," she said, as forcefully as she could manage. "We can't know how they will react." 

"It's your only chance, Captain," Barnabas said. She glared defiantly. "You were going to have to tell them sometime. Or they would've found out on their own at some point." 

She closed her eyes, feeling hot tears run down her cheeks. She nodded. 

"Good," Barnabas said, sighing with relief. "We'll wait 'till the island to tell them, so they won't have time to think too much about it. You just have to hold on until then," he said, taking her hand. 

"How do we know the Fae will help her?" Jeremiah asked. 

"We don't," she said. Her mouth tasted tangy and metallic. She prayed to her gods to get her to the island safely, and hoped that she was more valuable to the Fae alive than dead.