Unhooked(29)

“What do you mea—” But the sound of churning water draws my attention back to the sea and to the boy. All around him, the sea is bubbling. “What is that?”

“The Sisters.” I can feel the Captain’s eyes on me. “Sea Hags,” he says as I meet his steady gaze. “They’re a bit like mermaids.”

“Mermaids?” I can’t tell if he’s serious.

“Just a bit,” he says, but his attention is already back on the water.

Confused, I look as well. The boy is gone, but the water hasn’t stopped churning. As I watch, the surface turns a lurid, rusty pink.

“In your world there are tales of people capturing mermaids for the wishes they’re believed to grant. But in this world, the Sisters don’t take kindly to those who invade their home.” The Captain’s usual detachment is gone, his voice strained, and I get the feeling he is not as indifferent as his flinty expression would suggest.

“Wishes,” I repeat stupidly.

“Aye. The desires of the heart. Though human desire is such a weak thing, Gwendolyn.” His lips are so close to me now, I swear I can feel the heat of them against my neck.

“It is?” I whisper, swallowing hard, forcing myself to hold completely still.

“It is,” he rasps, his voice as rough as the waves. “Oh, it may burn and it may chafe, but it rarely devours a person. Not completely. In this world, though, desire is a bit more dangerous. In this world, lass, more often than not”—his lips do touch my neck then, softly, like a prayer— “it consumes,” he whispers against my skin.

I close my eyes, trying to block out his words, the heat of his body, the spice of the cloves on his breath, but it doesn’t work. He is too close, too much for me to ignore.

But then the moment is over. The Captain adjusts me in his arms, allowing some space between us as he gives a small salute to the waves. When I look in the direction of his salute, my legs feel like I’ve just finished a ten-mile run. The torsos of three figures with skin the color of a bloated corpse are rising out of the pinkish water. The hair clumped to their large heads reminds me of tangled algae. With great yellow eyes and rows of daggerlike teeth that flash from wide-set mouths, they are perhaps the most horrible things I’ve ever seen.

They’re gone as quickly as they appeared, and I can almost convince myself they hadn’t been there at all. Except for the bits I won’t let myself identify floating in the pinkish water.

Without warning, I’m free. The Captain’s arms are gone, and only the cold cut of the sea wind is there to meet me when I stumble in surprise at his absence.

“Now then,” the Captain says, making his way once again to the head of the steps. Hands on his hips, his silhouette is stark against the setting sun. He takes his time looking over the prisoners, who are waiting, slack-mouthed, below. “Which of you will be joining your friend?” he shouts, pausing for a long, uncomfortable moment while the implication of his words settles over the decks. Down below, the boys’ eyes grow wide with fear. “And which of you will be joining me?”

The captives erupt—all of them clamoring to be the first to sign on as crew for the ship. All of them already shouting their allegiance.

“That’s what I thought,” the Captain murmurs, tossing a glance back at me. He smiles then, a wicked grin that somehow transforms the severity of his face. His smile falters a bit, though, when I don’t respond in kind.

He starts to turn away, dismissing me again, and something snaps.

Memories bubble up to the surface of my mind. The details are indistinct, but the emotions behind them are potent. My whole life, I’ve felt like this—trapped, powerless. I moved because my mom said we had to, I held our lives together when she was falling apart, because the alternative—telling someone, getting help—meant risking everything. But my mom’s a world away now. That life is gone. Even now I can barely bring up the details of it, and I don’t feel like there’s much left to lose.

“What about me?” I demand, drawing his attention back. I don’t know if it’s the cut of the wind or what I just witnessed, if it was the way my blood hummed at his nearness before, or the cold calculation in his eyes now, but I can’t seem to stop shaking.

He raises his brow slightly, mocking me. “What about you, lass?”

“Do you need my allegiance too? Or will you toss me to those monsters?”

The Captain’s eyes go dark, his face an emotionless mask. He takes my measure from where he stands, just a few yards away, his mechanical hand balling itself into a gloved fist. “No, Gwendolyn,” he says softly, his voice rough and filled a desolation that makes my whole body go still. “It’s not your allegiance I want.”





For weeks the boy careened through the days, trying to understand the strange new world he found himself in. He’d long since realized that it was not the grand adventure he’d expected. He did not find his brother. Instead, he found an endless supply of mud and lice and men with eyes like old knives—just sharp enough to be dangerous. . . .





Chapter 15


THE CAPTAIN’S VOICE ECHOES IN my ears as I struggle against Devin and another boy who helps to grab me. I kick and writhe, but it’s no use. They easily outmuscle me, and in a matter of moments, I’m being carried across the deck and down into the belly of the ship. The Captain never looks back. The wind lifts his hair, but he looks as immovable as a statue against the darkening sky and the perilous sea beyond.