He took my wrists – first the right, then the left – and looked at the inside of them, muttering something under his breath.
I had to find Enoch.
At the same time my fingers finally decided to work, my suit came on, warming my skin beneath the sopping wet gown. I needed it to accelerate my healing. I had to recover. Fast.
The captain’s stern voice filled the air as he stood up. “Take her to my quarters.”
Two sailors grabbed me by the upper arm and hoisted me up, threading my arms over their shoulders. My head lolled forward, bouncing with each step they took.
My stomach hated ships, and sailors with body odor, and salt water, and puking, and drowning, and boots, and captains, and even beards… the list went on.
As we walked, the massive vessel lazily rocked back and forth in the waves, my stomach rolling right along with it. I managed to raise my head for a few seconds and watched as the last rays of sunlight fell over billowing, pale gray sails of various shapes and sizes, strung to tall masts with more ropes than my eyes could follow.
Thank God, I landed while it was still daylight. The boy might not have seen me in the night.
My fingers tightened on the men’s shoulders. I could feel my strength returning, and not a moment too soon. At first, my feet sloppily pushed against the wood, but every second my motions became more deliberate.
At the stern were the Captain’s quarters. We passed a set of windows glowing from candles lit within, casting warm, buttery light over the deck as the sun sank below the horizon. The men opened a pair of weathered double doors and unceremoniously dumped me inside before one of them locked the door. Bare feet were almost silent on the planks, their retreating shadows sliding over the windows and then disappearing.
I closed my eyes. Thank God they’re gone. The stench of them clung to my damp hair, but I didn’t yet have the strength to rake the strands out of my face. Instead, I just laid there with my cheek and chin plastered to the floor, pretending I didn’t smell as bad as the manure field I landed beside last time I traveled, and wondering when the sailors last bothered to bathe.
The memory of Enoch ordering a tub for me fluttered into my mind, but that peaceful memory was quickly erased by physical discomfort, which seemed to be the theme of the hour. Added to the list of things I hated? Wooden floors. The rough grain would no doubt leave an impression on my skin. I managed to raise my head and hold it up for one moment, then a longer one, until I could hold it up indefinitely. I curled my fingers, one at a time and then all together. A few moments later, I could sit up.
My abs ached almost as much as my lungs. I clutched my stomach, glancing around the room. A small armory of swords hung on the wall behind me, their patterns interrupted by sconces with thick, white candles whose wax leaked in heavy rivulets to the floor. The wax smelled sweet, like honey.
A warm glow stretched across the space, illuminating a bed in the far corner that looked like it hadn’t been made in years. Across from the bed was a desk with legs that were nailed to the floor boards, a chair perched askew behind it. I scooted to the edge of the bed and used its sturdy wooden leg to help me stand.
My calves quivered under my weight.
Had the link Titus made for us pulled him out of the castle? Was he floating in the middle of the ocean, slowly bleeding out? And Abram… There was no way Enoch hadn’t injected venom into his blood when he tore his throat out. An attack that ferocious would either kill or turn him. For his sake and mine, I hoped the former.
Using the furniture to support me, I made my way to the desk and grabbed the top sheet of a thick stack of papers. Facing its surface toward a nearby sconce and taking advantage of the flickering candle that barely gave off enough light to read by, I tried to figure out what it said. In elegant black ink, someone had penned a letter in a language I couldn’t read. French, maybe?
“Nothing in this room requires your attention.”
I startled at the sound of his voice.
The doors hadn’t even squealed on their hinges, and I was too focused on not falling over and trying to decipher the document to hear him approach. I returned the paper to his desk, abashed.
The captain braced his hands on top of the door frame and leaned into the room. He glanced from the desk to the hem of my dress which was dragging the floor, weighed down by the water it had absorbed. Water that was slowly draining down and pooling at my feet.
If it wasn’t for the tall neckline, he would’ve seen my glowing tech suit.
“The sailor who jumped into the ocean to drag you out is adamant that you fell from the sky. I’ve spent the last twenty minutes plying him with enough rum to stop the tremors wracking his body. For the record, I don’t believe his account, but I am interested in yours. Would you like to tell me the truth about where you came from?”
“Not really,” I replied, standing taller.
He flashed a humorless smile that set my teeth on edge. My hand brushed my side, where my stakes were strapped just beneath the gown. The once-small tear I’d made to access them easier now gaped awkwardly. I pushed it closed just as his eyes slipped to it.
“What is your name?” he asked, letting go of the door frame and stepping into the room.
“I’m looking for a man named Enoch,” I offered instead.
He froze in place, tilting his head to the side. “There are many men who bear that name.”
I shook my head. “None like him.” The captain tensed. “You know him, don’t you?” My stomach muscles relaxed. “Will you take me to him?”
He stared at me warily. “I’m afraid not.”
“Why?”
“Because the last time we met it wasn’t under favorable circumstances, and since I value my neck, it’s best I stay away from him.”
“What if I told you that I was important to him, and that if you took me to him, he might forget the unfavorable circumstances between you?”
His pursed his lips together as he considered the information. “How, exactly, are you important to Enoch?”
“I would prefer not to say.”
He smiled. “Then I would prefer not to get involved.”
“You said we were close to land. How close?”
“We will drop anchor before we conclude this conversation.”
So close… “Where, exactly, will we drop anchor?”
Again, the black-bearded captain smiled, revealing a gray tooth on the bottom row of teeth. He stepped further into his quarters, which immediately made the room seem to shrink as his magnetic presence filled the space. He moved toward a chair where he picked up a dark, double-breasted jacket with brass or gold buttons running in two rows from his stomach to his chest, fluidly shrugging it on over his white ruffled shirt. Over a shoulder, he strapped a leather sash that held three pistols. He hooked his thumbs into his leather belt on either side of the large, square buckle in the middle and looked me in the eye.
“Only members of my crew get the honor of knowing where we drop anchor and when we set sail, Miss. And you are not among them.”
He was insufferable. I didn’t care where we were, just where Enoch was in relation to my current location. He could be halfway around the world for all I knew, but I had to figure out how to get to him. I decided to rephrase my question.
“How can I find Enoch? Will he be in the place we’re going?”