Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 144411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
This sounds too good to be true. I can’t for a moment believe that Nerissa isn’t close with her sister. She can’t be trusted. None of the sea witches can.
“Now I want what you want,” she goes on.
“Which is?”
“Justice.”
“For whom?”
“For Hilla. For you.”
I give her a bitter look. “Me? You don’t care about me. You don’t know me at all.”
“But I know what was done to you. If I can get the book back from Edonia, I can reverse the spell.”
“I was thinking of getting her to do that anyway,” I tell her, folding my arms.
She laughs. “And you think she would? Heavens, my little Syren. If Edonia sees you again, she’ll kill you. You can’t trust her for anything, you should know that. She will kill you for just having the audacity to ask.”
“Did Edonia use Venla’s book for the spell?” I ask.
She nods.
I think back. Even though I’ve replayed that moment in my head so many times, even though I still feel that knife through my tongue, sometimes it feels like a hazy dream. “Some men are resistant to a witch’s charms,” I say slowly. “That’s what she said when I asked why she needed my tongue, my Syren song.”
“Men such as Bones. Thinks a Syren song might lure him, though I suspect it won’t. But it doesn’t matter. Edonia hates him.”
“I’m starting to think everyone hates him,” I say under my breath.
“It’s hard not to make enemies when you’re a pirate, especially when you’re one of the immortal, bloodsucking variety.”
“Could say the same about witches too,” I remind her.
“And Syrens,” she counters, giving me a look of satisfaction. “You see, we’re all waring with each other but in reality we’re all very much the same. Different types of monsters united by being outcasts from the world.”
“So what do you want with me then?”
“I want you to help me get my vengeance,” she says, lowering her voice. “When the time is right, and you’ll know when it’s right, I want you to free me. I can fix everyone’s problems at once. I can deliver justice and make right all the wrongs.”
I frown at her confidence. “You know I don’t trust you, do you not?”
“I know you don’t,” she says with a smile. “But I pray in time you do. Before it’s too late. I have seen our destiny, Maren. I have seen it, and gods help us all if it gets more grim than that.”
I want to ask her what she’s seen but I have a feeling it will only mislead me.
I nod at her and leave, closing the door to the quarters. Once I’m away, I take in a deep breath and try to shake off our conversation. I want to trust her, I do, because to trust means to hope, but I can’t let myself fall for her tricks. If she’s Edonia’s sister, she’s bound to be just as slippery as she is.
Though I wanted to talk to Ramsay, I don’t want to interrupt his teachings with the boys. Still, I’m ever so curious and find myself heading toward Sam and Thane’s quarters. The door is half-open and I don’t hear much but the scratching of pencils. I nudge it open a little and look inside, smiling at the scene. All of their backs are to me and I watch for a moment as Ramsay stares over the shoulders of Henry and Lucas as they write down in their notebooks.
“That’s the way, Henry boy,” he says to him, giving him an affectionate pat on the shoulder. “I before E.”
“Except after C,” Henry says proudly.
“But only then when the sound is eeeee,” Lucas finishes.
“And I’m sure there are even more exceptions I don’t know about,” Ramsay says. “But this will get you far enough. Now if you’ll excuse me boys, you stay and fill the rest of that page, then run along upstairs to get your exercise with your pa. I have an onlooker to attend to.”
At that Ramsay turns around and gives me a dashing smile. The boys turn around too, to see me, surprised. I guess their senses won’t be as heightened as Ramsay’s until they turn thirty-five.
“She’s still in her undergarments,” Henry whispers to Lucas who giggles.
Ramsay shoots them a dirty look before walking over to me.
“Maren,” he says to me, his expression warm yet guarded as he folds his arms across his wide chest. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
“I was wondering if I could talk to you,” I tell him. “In my quarters,” I quickly add.
His brows raise but he only nods. “Alright.”
I nod, hating this distance between us, distance that I put there, and walk to my cabin, feeling his immeasurable presence at my back. What a fool I was to think that this type of space would change my feelings for him in some way. If anything, I’m feeling quite desperate, which was the feeling I had been trying to avoid in the first place.