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Driftwood by Hereswith [Reviews - 0] [218
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by Hereswith
Chapter 5
It was real. It had to be. The hard wood of the planks bit too uncomfortably into Elizabeth’s knees for it to be anything other than that, and though she blinked, the vision did not change. What she had so fervently wished for, earlier, had been granted. Their enemy had come out of hiding.
Elizabeth had her hand on Jack’s arm, and she reluctantly withdrew it, getting to her feet. “You,” she said, unsteadily. Leah had not approached, but Elizabeth quailed inside at the thought of it, and clenched her fists against the urge to flee. “What are you?”
A smile curved on the girl’s mouth. She was clad in her own shift and that wealth of nut-brown hair streamed over her shoulders. She looked very young, and almost innocent. “I’m Leah.”
It was not a proper answer, but the girl spoke no more, merely regarded Elizabeth evenly, as if waiting for her to continue.
Elizabeth wet her lips. “Leah. It’s really your name, then?”
“Yes.”
The word faded to quiet and Elizabeth, frustrated by the girl’s taciturn manner, was casting about for something else to say, something that might give a clue as to Leah’s purpose, when she noticed that the girl’s glance had slid off her and downwards, to linger on Jack. Her breath caught. “Let him go.”
“Him?” Leah returned her attention to Elizabeth. “Only him?”
“Everyone,” Elizabeth said, feeling much like she was teetering on the brink of a cliff. One mistake and she would fall, tumble and fall, and there would be no rescue.
The girl’s brows dipped. “Why?”
Elizabeth was slightly taken aback, but rallied to reply, “Because it’s wrong, what you’re doing. Two are already dead. At the least,” she added, since she had no way of knowing if more had been lost, while she was in the Great Cabin. “And the others—you’re tormenting them.”
“And that matters to you?” Leah said, sounding genuinely curious. “You care, if they suffer?”
“Yes. Of course I do.” Elizabeth shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. We’ve done you no harm. What are you—”
“You ask too many questions,” Leah interrupted, in a sudden snap of irritation. “I’m bored with talking.”
She moved a fraction, and when she did, there was the sound of beating wings. Elizabeth had been so focused on Leah and Jack that she had not paid heed to Parrot’s whereabouts, but he must have been watching them, and he flew boldly valiant at the girl.
Leah was not daunted, however, like the crazed Jack had been. She reached out and picked Parrot, somehow, from the air like she would have picked fruit from a tree. She gathered him to her, in spite of both his objections and Elizabeth’s, and kissed the top of his head. “Silly bird.”
To Elizabeth’s distress, Parrot slumped lifeless in Leah’s grasp, and the girl bent to put him down on the deck, smoothing his feathers, then straightened herself again, with a measured, sinuous grace, looking right at Elizabeth.
Elizabeth backed up, at the girl’s expression, to shield Jack as much as she could, which was less than she would have liked, and her heart hammered as if it would burst. She might have been able to hinder the girl, had pure power of will been enough. But Leah sprang forward in a blur, sweeping Elizabeth aside with an ease that had nothing to do with bodily strength, flinging her into the railing. Elizabeth cried out at the impact, but managed to maintain her balance, and twisted around.
The girl had crouched behind Jack and she was leaning over him, her hair spilling across his chest. She placed her hands on either side of his face, her fingers curling around it in a seemingly gentle caress. Although he was unconscious, Jack threw back his head, exposing the column of his throat, and an agonised moan was wrung from him.
“Don’t,” Elizabeth exclaimed, and took a step towards them, but Leah lifted her gaze in that instant and it pinned Elizabeth where she was, as if it weighed and nailed her down.
“He’s their captain, is he not?” Leah said, and her voice deepened beyond the range that should be possible for a girl. “He leads, and they follow like dogs. And yet, you would have me spare him?” Her eyes widened, filling with shadows that no human eye could hold, until there was not a speck of white in them, and the skin stretched taut over her features, glowing like alabaster. “They are pirates. They are men. They deserve nothing better.”
She did not tighten her grip, but spots appeared on Jack’s flesh where she touched him, ink black in colour, and he began to shake. “I told you that you could not save him. I’ll suck the marrow from his bones and snuff him out.” Her jaws unhinged and elongated in a thunderous roar. “Now, leave me.”
This time, the force that hit Elizabeth, square in her middle, sent her reeling down the steps. Near the bottom of them, her ankle gave, and she landed with a jarring thud on the main deck. She lay stunned, for a long moment, convinced that she had broken something that could not be mended. When she struggled to rise, pain lanced through her, but upon examination, the damage was not as severe as she had imagined, though she was both bruised and scraped. She could walk without limping, albeit on wobbly legs, and made for the steps once more.
And collided with a wall.
She bumped her nose and her arm into it and pulled back, disbelieving, because there was nothing in front of her that she could make out by sight, only the empty deck. Elizabeth went further to the side, and made a new attempt, then another, and another, across the width of the ship, to no avail. She could not even glimpse what was going on up at the helm, and in desperation she banged and kicked against that implausible, invisible wall, which must be of Leah’s creation, she cursed and screamed, and pleaded, but no matter what she did, she could not get through.
Elizabeth ceased trying in the end, raw from yelling and fear, not for herself, but for Jack’s sake. She had precious few options, and scarcely a shred of hope, but perhaps there was still a chance that someone among the crew was rational and in the shape to help her. The barest chance, but she needed to make sure, absolutely sure. With a final glance at the helm, she turned and quickly headed in the opposite direction.
*
There was no predicting what she might encounter, once below deck, so Elizabeth proceeded accordingly, slowing her pace. The cloying, oppressive warmth was wearing on her, she was clammy with sweat and smarting in places too manifold to count, but she could not afford to rest.
She went first to the brig; in the event that Jack had decided to imprison those he suspected were against him. The silence troubled her, as she wandered through the dim, deserted passages, and when she neared the brig, the absence of voices seemed inexplicable. Gibbs should be there, along with the sailor who had killed Tully, and neither of them had exactly been tongue-tied, before, when they were confined.
Elizabeth entered with a soft tread, keenly alert to danger. Then she saw the cells. A large number of men were locked inside, so it was likely her guess had been correct, that Jack had either compelled or lured them down, but that was not what brought her up short. It was the fact that the crewmembers, without exception, were sprawled, some half on top of each other, as if they had toppled where they stood, and that they were in a fevered shaking, like Jack had been.
She spotted Marty in one of the cells, flat on his back, close to the iron grate, and ventured towards him. He was staring vacantly straight up and froth had formed at the edges of his slack mouth.
“Marty?” Elizabeth stuck a hand inside and waved it in his face, then took hold of him, but he did not respond, or react to her presence at all. Nor did any of the others she sought to rouse.
Elizabeth briefly put her forehead against the cooler metal of the grate, a sinking sensation within her.
When she abandoned the brig, she abandoned caution for haste, as well. But each of those she found, as she searched, were oblivious and under the same thrall, and there came an irrevocable point, in the crew’s quarters, when the truth of it could not be denied, or escaped. Pirates, the girl had said. Men. And she had taken the men of the Pearl, one by one. It had not been coincidence that kept Elizabeth sane, while the rest were afflicted. Leah had passed her over. The entire ship was victim to the scourge, apart from her.
Elizabeth groped for the bulkhead and sagged against it. She was no longer able to rein in the wretched despair, it overtook her, spreading rampant. It devoured and consumed her. She could not breathe.
There was no one. Not a single soul.
Author's Note: