Fable (Fable #1)(46)
“You’re turning me out? Just like that?”
“I just gave you your future!” He flung a hand at the map.
I picked it up, throwing it across the desk. It hit him and fell to the floor. “I don’t want the Lark. I want to crew under your crest.”
“No.”
Hot tears rolled down my face, the panicked breath in my chest coming faster. “You have no idea what I had to do to get here.”
“And now you know how to stay alive in this world.” He lifted his chin.
“What does that mean?”
“The best thing I could have done for you is to leave you on Jeval.”
“You mean the best thing you could have done for you. I was starving. I was terrified!” I glared at him, my teeth gritted. He expected me to be grateful for the hell he’d put me through, so he could take credit for who I was. “I lost my mother and my home. And then you dumped me on the nearest rock to fend for myself.”
“Fend for yourself?” He spoke quietly, bitter and sharp. “Who do you think kept you fed? Who do you think put the coin you used to get passage in your pocket?” His voice rose.
I stared at him, confused.
“What do you think the Marigold is, Fable?”
“I know what a shadow ship is. It’s the decoy you use to manipulate trade and gather information. I’m not stupid. West is probably saddled under a debt to you that he’ll never be able to pay.”
“Very smart.” He looked pleased.
“What does that have to do with me?”
“You think West would have shown up in Jeval if I hadn’t sent him there? You think he would have paid you for pyre if I hadn’t ordered him to?”
My eyes widened, my mouth dropping open. I reached out with a shaking hand to the desk, bracing myself against the words. “What are you saying?”
“I took care of you.”
A sob broke from my chest before it turned into a bitter laugh. Of course. West knew exactly who I was. This whole time. And when he sailed into the barrier islands two years ago looking to buy pyre, he was really just looking for me. That’s why he didn’t want me on his ship. That’s why he couldn’t let anything happen to me.
I was the most expensive cargo he’d ever taken across the Narrows.
I stared at the ground, trying to keep the room from spinning. Everything was sideways. Everything was wrong.
“You don’t see it yet. Maybe you never will. But I did what was best for both of us. You kept your promise and I kept mine.” He picked the map back up, rolling it tightly. “Now it’s time to go your own way, Fable.”
Another cry slipped from my lips, and I covered my face with my hands, humiliated. I’d crossed the Narrows for a man who’d probably never even loved me. For a dream that would never come true. And in that moment, I had no idea why I’d ever believed it could.
“You’re strong and you’re sharp. You’ll figure it out.”
“If you’re not coming with me, then this map is useless.” I stared at it, my body feeling suddenly heavy. “Even if I find a way to get there, I’ll never be able to navigate Tempest Snare without you. You’re the only one who knows the way through those reefs.”
His hand reached out for me and I flinched, stepping back. But he followed, snatching up my arm and pushing the sleeve of my shirt up to my elbow. In the flickering light, the raised, pearly skin of my scar glimmered between us.
“There.” He pointed to the upper right corner, at the tip of the longest thread of the scar.
A sick, sinking feeling pulled in the pit of my stomach as I put it together. As if I were seeing it for the first time, the pattern came to life, taking shape before my eyes.
It was a map.
That proud, stubborn bastard had carved a map to the Lark into my skin. It was the intricate path through the graveyard where two hundred years of sunken ships were laid to rest.
I wrenched my arm away, my face on fire.
“You have everything you need to build your own life.”
He meant a life away from him. This wasn’t an inheritance. It wasn’t even a gift. It was a bribe to stay away. “Fine,” I choked. “I’ll go my own way. And if you think I’ll owe you anything…”
“You’re my daughter, Fable.”
I looked him in the eye, my voice seething with every drop of hatred that boiled within me. “I’m Isolde’s daughter.”
The ironclad set of his mouth faltered then, just barely, and I knew the words had hurt. But I meant them. I’d been a fool for believing that Saint would welcome me back to the Narrows. That he’d be happy to see me.
He was the same cruel, cold tyrant he’d always been.
And I hated him more than I’d ever hated anything in my life.
I took the map, walking straight past him. My reflection in the gilded mirror flashed like a ghost as I passed, and when I opened the door, the foul smell of the Pinch rushed inside. I stepped into the muck, tucking the map into my jacket.
And this time, I left Saint behind.
TWENTY-FOUR
I walked the bridges in the dark.
The salt-soaked wind blew in from the sea, and I ran one hand along the knotted rope walls, following them in whatever direction they took me. I didn’t care where. There was no place to go anyway.