I couldhear lots of yelling from outside, people bustling by and thingsbeing moved about. The ship even turned around, from what I couldtell, and we now sailed off in some other direction. I tried towrap my head around what the captain told me. That The BurningGhost, the real ship, hadbeen trapped in that bottle. It seemed like a grim fairy tale. But,then again, how could I explain the wave that crashed through myhouse and brought me here? It was all tied together by some sort ofold magic I’d never understand. I still wasn’t sure if I evenbelieved it.
The door burstopen and people came pouring inside. The captain, Finn, and Guscrowded around the desk above my head. They completely ignored thefact that I was even there, tied up and on the floor like a dog.They didn’t even respond as I squealed when one of their heavyleather boots caught the ends of my hair and pinned my head downfurther. I listened to them fussing with the papers and maps I sawearlier.
“Wherewould they go?” Finn asked.
“I’m notcertain,” the captain replied. “They could be anywhere on the WestCoast.”
“Well,where were you when you put them in the bottle?” Gus chimedin.
More rufflingof paper. “Here. The Burning Ghost was anchored at Sandy Point inthis flat bay area. Martha and I approached from the base of theisthmus and she performed the spell. I suspect it would be safe toassume that’s where the bottle would release them.”
“Aye,”Finn said, “So, we stay on this new course, head back up to theWest Coast and kill the buggers.”
“But howdo we find out exactly where they are?” Gus asked and then moaned.“We still have that delivery to make, too. Probably best to do italong the way. If they’ve been free since her arrival, then they’vea good head start on us.”
The three ofthem glanced down at me, fury in their eyes. I could feel theirhate and disgust for me filling the air around us. I single handilybrought back a monster. I set the evil beast free. They weredefinitely going to kill me. But then… did it even matter? Irealized, if they were on a course to find and kill the Cobhams,then I would cease to exist at the very moment their swordsdrew.
I glanced upfrom my spot at their feet and locked eyes with the captain as heanswered them. “Easy. We follow the trail of blood and ash.”
***
I remainedbound and tied to the captain’s desk, only now I was alone. The sunhad set, and darkness filled the room, just a gleam of moonlighthighlighted the surface of the objects in the space. I cried,quietly, and grieved for my family. Not just my mom, but my entirelineage back to the Cobhams. By breaking that bottle, Iaccidentally changed the course of history.
Mind you, itwasn’t an important history in terms of the world, but it wasimportant to me. When the crew of The Devil’s Heart find and killMaria, they’ll be wiping out half of my family’s entire existence,myself included. I wondered if I would fade away like in the movieswhen something happens to alter time, or would my body actually diehere in the past. Either way, I remained, so the new past had yetto catch up with my future. That is to say… if time was evenlinear.
Once again,the door flung open and heavy footsteps barrelled toward me. Finnthen bent down next to where I sat, and he grinned through thegruff red beard. “I reckon yer hands are damn near dead bynow.”
“Does itmatter?” I replied. “You guys are going to kill me,anyway.”
TheScotsman sighed. “If we wished ye dead, we’dve fed ye to the sirens longago.”
I gave him ahopeless smile. “No, you don’t get it.”
“Aye,”he replied and began releasing me from my ties. “Probably not. ButI dinnae care. I’m here to bring ye to a bunk.”
I stood whenhe did, rubbing my poor wrists once again, the skin chaffed andbleeding. “A bunk? You mean, to sleep? I don’t have to be tied upanymore?”
“Well,we’ll keep an eye on ye, but there not be many places ye can fleeto,” he kidded. “May as well put ye to work.”
“Work?”I asked, afraid of what that would entail, me being the only femaleon a ship of burly pirates.
“Whatskills do ye have?”
“Uh, Ican cook,” I told him, hoping it would be of use. “I was a verygood chef back–” I stopped myself from saying the future, “backwhere I lived.”
“We havea cook,” Finn told me, “Alfred. He ain’t very good, but he keeps usfed. I dinnae see thecaptain letting ye replace him. Alfred isn’t exactly a skilledsailor.”
We were ondeck then and Finn led me across the surface. I glanced up at themasts above us, they were like giant tree trunks with massive whitesails pulled taut as the wind pushed us toward our destination. Icounted four deckhands; one in the crow’s nest high above, andthree tending to the many ropes and levers down here on deck.
They eyed mewith such hatred. One of them even spit at my feet as I walkedpast. I was the wench that brought evil down upon the world again.The reason they had to change course. They said something aboutgoing back up to the West Coast, which told me they must have beenheading South. Maybe somewhere warm. Or perhaps they were on a huntfor treasure. Whatever the case, I ruined it and they despised mefor it.
Wedescended a small ladder to the deck below where a dozen woodentables filled most of the space; six on each side that werebuilt-in and fastened to the ship. A buffet-style counter sat at the front where I alsospotted a wood stove, washbasins, and various barrels that no doubtcontained their food. This was the cafeteria, or whatever thepirate word was for it. Mess deck?
Finn looked atme. “This is where we eat. I’ll bring ye back up in the marnin’ forsome grub.” He grabbed my arm. “Come on, then. This way.”
We descendedanother ladder to the next lower deck, this one clearly reservedfor sleeping. The space was lined with hammocks and
