Pieces of Jade
“It makes sense when your true goal is to control the power.” The captain pinched the bridge of his nose. “They're afraid of what would happen if the Emmía and her daughter fought together against them.”
I shook my head. “The daughter wouldn't have her mother’s power. An Emmía is only born every two hundred years.”
“Yes,” the captain continued. “Because of the magical bind on her powers, as I told you before. But despite that, the daughters could still be powerful Guardians. The combined power of mother and daughter might tip the scales in a direction that's not in their favor. We know for a fact that Prince August was told his responsibilities when it came to murdering his fiancée.”
The captain stood up tall. “After producing an heir, they would tell people she died and then drain her until the end. And when they were done with her, it was her husband who would snuff out her life. This is why the king would never let James wed her. He wasn’t strong enough to do it. He cared about her.”
I shook my head in denial. Is this what James had been trying to tell me before the pirates attacked? It would explain why he’d been so spooked and tried to sail off with me.
I remember James telling me he couldn’t change things, that this was too big. My heart, already bruised and swollen, began to bleed again. I didn’t know it was possible for one person to feel so much pain.
“Not everyone in the kingdom is evil,” I said. “Maybe the king, but the Guardians—”
The captain shook his head. “I can see you won’t be an easy sell.”
“Even if what you claim is true, a few bad people don’t prove that the whole kingdom is corrupt. Pearl has done nothing wrong. Neither did the Emmía. I still can’t believe all of the things you accuse the kingdom of doing.”
The captain's lips pressed into a hard line. “You want undeniable proof? Fine. There's a way to give it to you.” He straightened his jacket and advanced toward me. “I will give you the medallion, Sheridan, and I will personally go with you to the Manacle to return it and retrieve Pearl. On one condition.”
I jutted out my chin “What condition?”
“There's a room beneath the palace dungeons. I suppose you could say it’s the most important room in the entire kingdom. You need to visit that room with me. After that, you can decide whether or not we leave the medallion with the Manacle.”
William gasped. “No Clay, that’s taking things too far.”
“Don’t blame me,” the captain said, holding his hands up. “I’ve tried reasoning with her and she won’t listen. If she needs to see it for herself, then so be it.”
“Just one problem,” I interrupted. “There isn’t a room beneath the palace dungeons.”
“Yes there is,” William said quietly. “But it’s beyond reprehensible to take her there, Clay.”
“It’s that room or no deal.”
I looked back and forth between the two brothers. William was furious, although I couldn’t understand why.
“So we just need to visit that room? That doesn’t sound so bad.”
The captain smiled and William winced. “Good,” the captain said. “We return the medallion and get Pearl, and then we leave the Manacle. All of us. Including you, Sheridan. You're coming back with us.”
“Why do you care what happens to me?”
The captain shrugged. “You’ve saved my life and William’s, too. And powerful witches are rare. I could use one on the Promise. Also, having you aboard has made William happy, although I don’t begin to understand why. I want you to stay with us after our docking in Castleport and help us fight our cause against the Manacle.”
“What cause?”
“Helping us discover the way to unbind the Emmía and save the people.”
The words of Benjamin, the guard who had let me out of the barrier, came back to me. “May the unbinding save us all,” I whispered.
The captain’s eyes widened and he smiled. “You’ve heard the motto.”
“I heard it once,” I admitted. “Are you suggesting there’s a formal organization dedicated to help with the unbinding of the Emmía?”
“Yes, but that’s only the first step in a larger plan. Our ultimate goal is to rid the land of the kingdom’s tyranny.”
I jerked my head towards William, waiting for him to disagree. He didn’t. “William?”
“It’s true, although I had hoped to break it to you more delicately,” he said, glaring at his brother.
“Her Mylean powers are locked from her right now, but once the Emmía is at her full strength and out from the oppressive control of the Manacle, she can divide her blood equitably or maybe even break the curse altogether.”
“You want to free the Mylean line?” I laced my fingers together. “Even if you succeed, and the next Emmía is born outside of the kingdom’s control, it won’t happen for two hundred years. What benefit will that be to you when you’re dead?”
“It won’t benefit me,” the captain said. He reached for his fiddle and plucked at it. “It isn’t about me. It’s bigger than that. But it will benefit those who live when the day comes.”
“That sounds far too noble to have come from you.”
“There are people who have been working toward this for hundreds of years.” The captain picked up the bow and ran it across the strings. The music felt feverish, urgent. “This is as close as they’ve ever come. If we can just find the way to unbind the Emmía, then this cause won’t be for naught. It will help the next girl born with violet eyes, even if it doesn’t help this one.”
People had been trying to unbind the Emmías for centuries? Could it be true? Had the captain really given up everything, even hurt me, the woman he professed to love to forward a cause he fully believed in? I turned to face William and saw his gentle eyes searching my own.
“Is this the good you see in him?” I asked quietly. William nodded and squeezed my hand.
“Do you agree to my terms?” the captain pressed.
What choice did I have? None. This was my best chance to save my sister. And maybe if I were lucky, even come out alive myself.
It took two days to plan our rescue mission into the kingdom. We realized immediately that we would be a party of five, and would have to split into two. Dorian obviously had to come with us, since I had to honor my previous bargain with him. It took a little more time and planning to realize that Lafe would need to be incorporated into the group as well. He had been happy about this at first, until he learned what his role was to be.
“Are you ready?” William asked softly in my ear.
We were standing outside the brig, waiting to speak to Dorian and to bring him in on his portion of the plan. I hadn’t wanted to involve him at all but William had insisted on it.
“As ready as I'll ever be.”
“Remember, he’ll try to weasel his way out of making a deal, thinking he has the advantage.” He took my hand in his. “But once he catches my scent, he’ll know I’m a Hound, too. That should shake his confidence. Let’s go.”
I followed William through the door, my hand still clenching his. The powerful stench of the room clogged my nostrils and I coughed involuntarily. I had forgotten how badly it smelled. Poor Dorian. It seemed almost inhumane to leave him down here.
Dorian jumped to his feet when he saw William and me walking toward him. His eyes bobbed back and forth between us, then narrowed at our entwined fingers. A smirk grew on his face. “Tell me William, how can you even touch that wrinkled skin? Is she good enough to make it worth it?”
William bridged the gap in two strides, punching the Hound in the face. “That's my wife you're speaking about,” he growled as Dorian spit a blob of blood and spittle into the corner. “If I ever hear you talking about her in such a vile way again, you won't live to speak another word.”
Dorian wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and laughed.
I studied my aged hand, confused. “William, can’t he see through the magic?”
The co
rners of William’s lips curved into a smile. “No, he isn’t strong enough. He can smell the illusion and your scent beneath it, but he can’t see through the illusion. His senses aren’t strong enough.”
“So what brings about this charming reunion?” Dorian asked. “Are you here to chastise me for not sending a wedding present? You'll have to forgive me for my breach of etiquette; I've been rather busy for the last few weeks.”
“You're about to get busier. We require your assistance.”
“Then you wasted your time coming down here to ask me. I'll be doing you no favors, traitor.”
Traitor—which meant Dorian knew about William’s defection. Neither of them spoke, but the heat of the hatred in their glares said enough.
“William,” I whispered. “You’re not helping.”
William rolled his shoulders and reached into his shirt, retrieving six small vials of my blood. “You'll help us if it benefits you.”
Dorian's eyes widened greedily.
“These are the vials of blood you robbed my wife of while she lay unconscious. She will give them to you willingly, returning their power. Do we have a deal?”
“You have yet to detail what help you require,” Dorian said, his eyes never leaving the vials.
“You'll help Jade return the medallion to the kingdom, to save her sister.”
Dorian's eyes narrowed. “What's the catch?”
“The catch is, you don't hand her over to be executed. You’ll return her and the medallion to the kingdom, just as you agreed upon, and her oath to you will be fulfilled.”
“How do I get paid, if I don’t turn her over?”
The corner of William’s lips turned up. “I know all about the wording of the orders you get. Did they say to hand her over or to bring her back to the kingdom.”
Dorian frowned. “No wonder you’re a traitor. Bending the words of a contract to serve your own purposes.”
“Says the man who stole the Emmía’s blood.”
Dorian’s nostrils flared. “The moment I bring her back to the kingdom, they’ll take her into custody. How do you plan to escape that?”
William folded his arms across his chest. “The rest of the plan doesn’t involve you.”
Dorian stared at William, and I did my best to control my breathing. William had told me that this would be the hardest part: watching as Dorian agreed to our terms, and knowing the whole time that he planned to double-cross us. Six vials of blood or not, the man had no intention of simply letting me walk away when he had been specifically instructed to return with both me and the medallion.
Dorian glanced at the vials again and licked his lips. “Very well, I agree.”
“Good,” William said, summoning the guard. “We'll be back in the morning.”
“Aye, sir,” the guard said.
“Let's go.” William led me out of the brig, up to the fresh air of the deck, and off to a quiet corner where we could speak in private. William frowned. “I was right. He plans to double-cross us. And I wouldn't be surprised if he knows that I know; his senses are incredibly strong, even for a Hound.”
“Stronger than yours?” I couldn't help but ask, and William's face broke out into a grin, reminding me how supremely handsome my husband was, inside and out.
“Nobody has ever had stronger senses than me,” he said without vanity.
“I guess that explains the hostility I felt from Dorian. He really hates you.”
“Yes, I'm a traitor of the worst kind,” William said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. “The Manacle often imports children who show great skill at a young age. That’s how they found me. They knew I had the makings of a good Hound, but they didn’t know just how good I would turn out to be. Still, it was enough to convince them to bring Clayton along with me. They trained me as a Hound and he took a job aboard a merchant vessel when he was five.”
“So that’s how he became captain at such a young age,” I said. “He was raised at sea.”
William shook his head. “It helped, but really he was brazen enough to challenge the captain of this vessel a year ago, after he broke with the Manacle. He knew the rebellion needed a ship and he wanted to captain it.”
William grabbed an unwound rope and coiled it around his arm. “I think when Clay and I both turned against the kingdom, it strengthened the position of those in the court who oppose recruiting outsiders. They feel it not only dilutes the noble bloodlines, but puts the citizens at risk, since people born outside of the Manacle are savages who can't be trusted, no matter how young they are when brought to live within its walls. Clay and I heard a lot of that growing up, which is why your kindness to people like us meant so much.”
I had a sudden insight about an earlier statement he had made. “You said I did something for someone you knew. Was it your brother?”
He gave me a small grin. “You have a fast mind. Yes, you helped Clay.” William set the rope on the ground. “There was never enough food aboard the ship he’d been assigned to. Clayton grew up half starved.” He was silent for a moment as I pondered this. “But you fed him every time you saw him. Every time he came to port he stopped to get food. You saved his life. He was ten. He’s been in love with you ever since. And when he fled the Kingdom, he vowed to save you.”
“I remember him.” I pictured the scrawny boy with knobby knees, so thin he looked like the wind would carry him away. His blue eyes had always been so full of gratitude and I never felt like I’d done enough to help. I never knew what happened to him. I was afraid he had starved to death. I was glad he hadn’t.
I forced away the nostalgia. “He has a strange way of showing gratitude.”
William sighed and laced his hands behind his neck. “Yeah, but he honestly thought he was helping.”
I stared at William in pure astonishment. “Honestly?”
“He thought he loved you, but he doesn’t even know you. He loves the idea of you—the woman he imagines you to be—not the real you.” He paused. “In his mind, he was sure you would stay on board the Promise once the medallion fell off.”
“The thought never crossed my mind.”
“I know.” William smiled weakly and offered his arm out to me. “Let me escort you to dinner.”
I took his arm, feeling dazed and overwhelmed. William and I walked in silence to the officers’ mess.
Lafe found us during dinner. He rubbed his hands together, frowning. “About this plan . . . how come I’m the one who has to wear a dress?”
Chapter 22
The next morning, I rose early and made my way to the deck of the Promise. I leaned across the wooden railing and watched the sun reflecting off the waves that crashed onto the shore. The other boats in the dock creaked and grunted as the gentle swells broke around them. The rocking motion provided a welcome relief from the violent crashing of my thoughts.
Everything had to go according to plan. Pearl had to live. William would do everything he could to protect me, but with Dorian determined to turn me over as he had promised, there was no guarantee that we would succeed. I had known this, but as I looked around the dock, I wondered if this might be the day I died. Or, if the captain spoke the truth, my last day free from a fate worse than death.
The sound of footsteps shook me from my reverie and I turned, expecting to see William. Instead, it was the captain who walked toward me. The sunrise burned brightly behind him, the orange and pink clouds cast a warm, comforting glow around us.
The captain radiated excitement as he neared, no doubt from the adventure awaiting him. He said nothing for a moment as he came to stand next to me, leaning his arms against the railing and staring out appreciatively at the view. He was in his element, on the verge of a new adventure with who knew what dangers to confront. The prospects lit his face with joy and, combined with the sunrise, I couldn't help but notice how attractive he was. His face, much like his brother’s, was perfect enough for an artist to capture, and I hated myself for noticing. And yet, I couldn’t shake
the revelation that the captain had feelings for me—and those feelings were deeply rooted. What he did was still wrong. But at least I now knew his intentions were good, even if his plan was miserable.
He seemed to notice me staring at him, and he gave me his attention. “Captain.” I bobbed my head in acknowledgment, pulling my flimsy shawl around my shoulders. “You look well.”
“You look different,” he said, bypassing the opportunity to return the compliment. He got a strange look on his face. “In fact, you almost remind me of . . . Never mind.” He rubbed his eyes. “Where'd you get that dress?”
“William bought it for me in town.”
“Ah, he's already been out and back, has he?”
“Aye, Captain.”
“No 'captain' today, Sheridan. It will draw unwanted attention.”
“Then what am I supposed to call you? I can think of a few clever names, but—”
“Just call me Clayton,” he said, cutting me off. “You can save the rest for when I'm not listening.”
I laughed. “Very well then, Clayton, do you have the medallion with you?”
He patted his jacket affirmatively and then pushed back from the railing. “That reminds me, I have something for you.” He reached into his jacket, and retrieved something that he tossed to me. I caught it and stared at it in confusion.
“It’s an edict medallion, in case we get caught. It's black, so it'll show that you're a widow.” He withdrew another one from his other pocket. “Mine is blue so that the women inside will think I’m married and unavailable for their attentions.”
I scowled at him. “What makes you think any of them would want you?”
He shrugged. “I've learned from experience.”
I ignored his self-serving comment. “Can you help me put mine on?” I asked, holding my borrowed medallion out to him. I lifted my gray hair while he clasped it around my neck. When his fingers brushed the back of my neck, I surprised myself by not shuddering.
“Are you ready to see your proof that everything I've told you is true?”