Chapter Ten
Pirates (Again)
Sariah gasped for air as the net exited the water. She clutched at the rough ropes that snared her and pulled at them, though they had no give whatsoever. She hadn’t expected them to, but she had to do something.
That is, she tugged at them until she heard George’s whimper and felt the spear shaft prod her back.
Sariah slid down next to George—she really didn’t have a choice; that was gravity’s decision—and yanked on the weapon.
George rewarded her efforts with a huge yell. “No! No, no—it hurts—it hurts—it hurts—” He probably would have kept on like this if his voice hadn’t broken. His chest rose and fell in short bursts of air, and his pupils looked...odd.
“It’s okay, George,” Sariah said, which was the most useless thing she’d ever uttered—and there were quite a few contenders over the course of her lifetime, she was sure. She seized his hand instead and wiped his wet hair away from his brow. And still they crept upwards, to whatever fate awaited them.
Sariah didn’t recognize the boat that they were on, not even as they approached the railing.
“Riah,” George moaned.
She turned her attention back towards him. Blood soaked everything in their small prison and dripped down to the ocean below. Sariah choked back tears of her own and instead focused on the one thing her trembling hands could do: pat his head and wipe his cheeks.
“We’ll be fine,” she assured him. Her voice cracked, and a few of her own salty tears dripped off her chin and onto his face. She hurried to wipe them away, tried to be brave for him, but her bottom lip quivered, her whole body shivered, and she was coated in her friend’s blood.
They rounded the railing and tumbled down to the hard, wooden floor. George wailed again and clutched at his tail. Sariah twisted her body at the last moment so that she didn’t land on him or the spear and only multiply their problems.
She managed to roll onto her back. The sun blinded her, its bright afternoon rays reflecting off the sheen of the boat, off the water, off everything. Maybe that was the reason that it took her a moment to recognize the two faces that leered over her, near-identical smirks on their faces.
“You know how long it took for us to track you down?” James Stevenson shook his head. His brother just grunted. “You don’t know the trouble you’ve given us ever since you freed this one from our trap.”
John jerked the spear out of George’s injury. George shrieked, and whatever clotting had been done was reversed. Blood spewed out of his tail and soaked the floor around them. He latched onto Sariah’s shoulder and dug his fingernails into her so much that Sariah wondered if he was going to break skin on her as well.
“I’m sure your old buddy George here didn’t tell you why hunters are after him, did he?” James kicked the poor merman’s tail. George writhed and buried his face in Sariah’s shoulder, his breathing shallow and panicked. Sariah wrapped her arms around him and scooted as close to him as she dared.
“Because you’re evil, and I never trusted you!” Sariah snapped.
James clucked his tongue. John took to cleaning the spear as his brother spoke. “Not quite. What Georgie-Porgie here failed to mention was that he’s a runaway slave. In fact, his master just sold him for a lucrative sum to none other than the young mermaid princess. And wouldn’t you know it, the day that the princess comes to pick him up, George attacks another slave and makes a break for it.”
George whimpered. Sariah could feel his whole body trembling, could feel the way that he acted as if he practically wanted to crawl inside her for protection.
“The princess must really like you, George,” James jeered. “You should see the fat ransom she’s attached to your head. She really wants her darling slave to come back...although, I have to say, Queen Mummy isn’t very happy that she’s going to have to shell out more money on you. Oh—” James barked out a laugh. “And your old master isn’t too pleased she lost out on your price, either. No, sir. You’re not a very popular merman right about now.”
“Riah,” George mewled, his voice muffled by the soaked fabric of her sleeve. “Please. Please don’t let them take me!”
“I won’t,” Sariah whispered. She clung to his hair, the only thing she wouldn’t hurt him at the moment.
“I’m not sure you have much of a say in it.” James severed the net while John yanked her up.
As George was ripped from her grip, Sariah let loose a caterwaul that would have made Nanny Eleanor very displeased in her granddaughter—but maybe, in this scenario, she would have deemed it acceptable.
“Let me go!” Sariah threw her elbows and pumped her legs and even bit at the air.
She snarled and hissed until John said a word that Nanny Eleanor definitely wouldn’t have approved of—even in this scenario—when she managed to hit him in the stomach. In the next moment, his beefy, odoriferous forearms were around her neck, the still-defiled spearhead lodged next to her cheek.
“I wouldn’t squirm if I were you,” John hissed, his breath hot against her ear. “We don’t have to hurt you.”
She clawed at his arm and choked out a few syllables, though nothing was coherent. With every blow she managed to land, he only tightened his grip until she felt like her head might pop off. Only then did she stop fighting, just to make him relax his grip a bit so she could take in a few desperate gulps of air.
James, meanwhile, dragged George across the deck, leaving smears of crimson against the brown wood. George’s dark, tear-filled eyes found hers, but he didn’t say anything. Part of her wondered if he was afraid they would kill her if she tried anything. But he only stared at her while she dangled in mid-air.
James unlocked a metal door that covered a hole in the middle of the deck. He swung the gates open and tossed George, net and all, into the pit. Both George and Sariah shrieked at this, but George’s was cut short when it was overtaken by a splash.
“You killed him!” Sariah yelled.
“Now, why would I kill something that would make me richer than I’ve ever been in my life?” James smirked at her.
George continued to holler and sob from inside the brig, or whatever that prison happened to be called, until James slammed the iron hatch closed again. George’s calls were dim then, barely audible and tinny.
“Now, what are we going to do with you?” James took off his ridiculous cowboy hat and wiped at his brow. “I wonder, could we hold you for ransom? If your grandmother really does know old Phineas, he’s got connections to merfolk that have been missing for ages. I’d be willing to trade you for them.”
John grunted. Sariah glared at James. “I’d never let her do that. I’d sooner you sell me with George. I’d be a slave with him rather than know that I was dooming someone else and filling your coffers.”
James guffawed. “Big words and fancy ideals from someone who’s got to be no older than six.”
Sariah knew she was small, but only a numbskull would mistake her for a six-year-old. Then again, she didn’t have a high estimation of these men’s intelligence, anyway.
James scratched at the brown scruff on his chin. “Just tie her up until we can figure out what to do with her. We’ll just drive the boy to the drop-off now.”
The loquacious brother made his way towards the wheel. John took her over to the mast and wrapped several rounds of rope around her torso and arms until she could hardly breathe, let alone move. The sun beat down on her and promised to give her a good sunburn by the time this whole ordeal was over—and that was probably the least of her worries.
Her feet were the only thing free. So as John crossed over to his brother, Sariah strained her bare feet forward as far as she could go. She wasn’t entirely sure what she could do, but part of her just wanted to reach the brig door and see if she could open it for him. But she was tied too tightly, too far away, and she couldn’t do anything.
So, her first terrible idea hadn’t worked. That was okay. She had several other terrible ideas, the next of which was to chew her way through the bonds. But that only gave her a dry mouth and made her worried about what type of infectious diseases she might catch, so she gave up on that rather quickly, too.
Maybe it was—wait.
“I—I—” Sariah began to wheeze. This certainly got the brothers’ attention, though James did snap at her to “shut up.” “I—I have asthma...I need an inhaler...I…” Sariah coughed and wriggled. She’d had far enough real attacks to know how to make a fake one believable, especially if these men had no experience with her condition.
Sariah started to hack until she could feel the pressure rise in her face. Hopefully, it would turn her red. She let her head loll around a bit as well.
“What do we do? Is she gonna die?” John took a few hesitant steps towards her before he glanced back at his brother.
James seemed to waver as well. Sariah increased her theatrics and added little horking noises before she spat a few times. She let her eyes roll upwards in her head and sucked in air so that it sounded like she was choking.
“Just untie her a bit,” James relented.
John scurried towards her and loosened it up. He put one hand on her back and gave her a few thumps. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to do, but she at least appreciated the sentiment, even if he was just trying to protect his next paycheck from croaking.
She collapsed forward, unsure of what to do next with her show now that she was free. If she fought, she’d only be tied up again. Maybe if she could—
The sound of a pistol firing made her jerk upwards.
James cut the wheel hard to the left. Sariah began to roll across the deck until John hoisted her up.
Another ship approached them, a person with long, flowing brown hair standing on the top. One pistol was aimed straight at the air, while the other one pointed at them. “Come on now, boys. Don’t you ever get tired of being the bad guys?”
Sariah had heard that voice before—but where, she couldn’t say. But it was definitely feminine.
James growled underneath his breath and cut the wheel again. This time, it brought their two ships closer to each other. “I swear I’ll kill you.”
“Don’t you know not to make promises you can’t keep?” the woman said.
She seized a rope in her hands and somehow used it to span the distance between the two boats. Sariah was breathless with wonder—this person, whoever they were, was just like a real-life pirate. A girl pirate!
Her hair was loose and she wore black pants—pirate pants—and a white poofy shirt—a pirate shirt! There was a holster around her waist as well as scabbards for at least two cutlasses that Sariah saw. But most intriguing was the fact that Sariah could almost place that face…
“De Berry,” James growled.
Miss de Berry gave an elaborate bow. “Pleasure to beat you again, James.”
The world sprang into action then. Miss de Berry whipped out one sword and used the hilt to knock John away from Sariah. The girl pirate grabbed Sariah and dragged her backward while the brothers were still immobilized by her surprise advantage.
“So, Sariah. I saw you and George playing pirates yesterday. You’ve got fine form if you want to join my crew.” Miss de Berry’s eyes twinkled as she held out a cutlass for Sariah. “My name’s Charlotte, by the way. And it’s very good to know that you’re on my side, and not theirs.”
That was about all the time for introductions they had, because John and James had finally readied their attacks. James unsheathed a broadsword while John drew out a pistol.
It was time to play pirates—for real, this time.
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