Chapter 21 - "Your father was an admirable man."

The ship cut through the water with a seamless grace, riding the ocean's current. The sails were furled and the masts jutted up to the sky like sentinels surveying their domain. Clouds were drawn across the sky, hiding away the constellation. The ship lay silent, the men taken to their beds. Isla stood at the helm, where she had been since they had left. She felt fatigue setting in, but ignored it.

From below, Hawk emerged, stretching the sleep from his muscles. He climbed the stairs and stopped beside Isla. For a long while they remained in the quiet, breathing in the small bit of freedom they were given. But with that feeling was the truth that their lives were still not fully their own.

"Do you think we can do it?" she asked, the words barely making a dent in the stillness.

When Hawk didn't reply right away, she looked at him. In his eyes, she saw the hope that he held to, but also severity. They both knew the situation they were pinned into. He didn't answer and Isla knew why, he would not offer her false hope.

"You should get some rest," he said.

She backed away, letting him take the wheel.

"We'll ride this as far as we can to Oxley," she said.

She descend the stairs but didn't head towards her cabin, instead she crossed the ship to the front. Across her shoulders was draped her father's coat. It was not for warmth but for comfort, helping her stay focused on what lay ahead. She rested her arms on the railing and closed her eyes. The rush of the wind caressed her skin, the touch softer than a lover's.

"Come here, Little Wander," Zev said.

Isla raised her still stubby four-year-old arms up towards her father. Grinning, he grabbed hold and swung her once, eliciting a shriek of laughter from her, before hoisting her on to his shoulders. As he held onto her ankles, Isla took fists full of his hair into her chubby hands. The ship was pulled along in the ocean's hidden pathways, the breeze gaining in strength.

"You feel that?" he asked.

Isla's hair was turned wild, whipping around her head.

"That is the feel of our history, of the secrets passed down through our family," he said.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Isla opened her eyes, clearing away the memory of her father. The shimmering sea raced out before her, strands of indigo, silver, and midnight blue all interlocked. As her unknown companion neared, Isla made no sign of noticing.

"May I join you?" Raif asked.

Isla was uncertain whether she wanted his company or not and so said nothing, letting the silence be ambiguous. Taking it as an invitation, Raif leaned against the railing, keeping a gap between them.

He had traded his new clothes for his old, leaving his sleeves rolled up, exposing his strong forearms. As the ship rocked, the wind's fingers combed through his hair, rustling the shortened ends. When he said nothing, Isla felt the question inside her mounting until it finally escaped on a breath.

"Why?"

Raif looked at her, raising his eyebrows, prompting her for more. Isla couldn't meet his gaze, aware that even wanting to know was a weakness. Still, she needed to know.

"Why did you not turn me in to Lord Sutherland?" Raif opened his mouth but she went on. "It was not because of Sparrow. Seeing the way you handled everything making a deal for Sparrow's freedom would have been of little difficulty. Why then did you not do what you've wanted to do since I first took you?"

Raif contemplated his laced fingers, staring at his palms, disgesting her questions. Finally, he raised his head but didn't look at her, instead gazed out on the edge of the horizon.

"You're right," he said. "I could have bargained for Sparrow's life while destroying yours. A few weeks back I would have without a second thought. You deserved as much for kidnapping me."

Isla lowered her eyes to the weather-worn wood beneath her arms. She didn't regret what she had done because it was wanted needed to be done, but there was a tinge of remorse that it was even needed.

"But during the voyage to the Seau Islands, I got to know you," he said.

At this, Isla jerked her head up, confused. In that time they had only talked once and even then it had been brief and about Sparrow. The edge of Raif's mouth tugged upwards at her expression.

"I don't see how one conversation could make a difference," Isla said.

"It wasn't through that conversation that I got to know you. I got to know you through the men that served under you and you were all the better for it."

Isla said nothing, needing more but not wanting to ask for it. Raif complied without encouragement.

"When I first began working beside the crew I expected to hear murmurs of unrest, even hints of mutiny. After all, they were men twice your age and you were a woman commanding them."

Knowing too well how she was regarded by men, she turned her head away. It was a reality that she was blocked in by with every step. Men that underestimated her merely for her gender. All expect the men that were her home.

"I found none of that," Raif said. "Instead, I was given stories of your bravery, ferocity, determination. I learned that most of these men were the reason you are who you are. They were the ones that helped raise you as surely as your father did. The exceptions being Sparrow, Brockton, and Trager."

He twisted towards her, resting his elbow on the ledge, his body facing her. It was a posture that spoke of complete trust, for every point of vulnerability was exposed to her.

"Each time they talked of you there was a pride that was unmistakable. That is why I didn't turn you over to Regis. I came to understand that taking me hadn't been a whim, but a decision you saw as having no other option for. It is why I've decided to not hold it against you."

A thickness lodged in Isla's throat. She swallowed, willing the tightness to go away. Seeing herself through the crew's eyes was too overwhelming when all she could see were the countless failures she had brought on them. When she felt in control of her emotions again, she inclined her head.

"I'm sorry for what I did to you," she said, fully meaning it.

"I understand."

When Raif spun back to the railing, Isla glanced over at his profile. He was relaxed as if he belonged on the ship the same as everyone else. The ease in his posture was different from that of when he stood in Lord Sutherland's study. Only now could she see the difference. One had been a mask and the other was the truth.

The splash of waves against the hull filled the silence that drifted between them. But unlike how it had always been before there was no tension in the quiet, they had found an even footing. Isla adjusted her father's coat on her shoulders, the material softened from years of wear. The motion brought Raif's focus to the garment.

"Your father's coat, I presume," he said, looking back to the water.

Isla nodded once. A beat passed between them.

"It was a storm that took him if I'm not mistaken."

At this Isla found she couldn't move. Though she hadn't been near where the ship had gone under, she had faced enough storms in her time to be able to see it all in her mind. She locked her fingers together, gripping them. The grief she hid away in a box felt close to breaking out. She knew she couldn't let it free, if she did she would fall into a well of pain.

Though they had all mourned her father's death, Isla had never been able to deeply grieve. For on the tail end of learning of his passing, she had found she was left with his debt. So she had stored away her heartache and stepped into the role that felt crippling. Not only had she lost a father, but a mentor, friend, and captain.

Beside her, Raif ducked his head.

"I was truly saddened to hear of his passing."

Needing to stay beyond the reach of her memories and grief, she took a step towards connection.

"When you first came aboard the ship, you spoke as if you knew my father, was that true?"

Raif dipped his head. "I met him once when I was not yet fifteen." Looking out over the endless landscape, he smiled with remembrance. "He was hired by my father to acquire a painting by Vinton. When I first saw him I was struck by how he walked as if he owned the land like he owned the sea."

Isla dropped her gaze, seeing all too clearly the command her father held in each step. It was not arrogance, but the certainty of knowing who he was. It was a stride that Isla had often mimicked as a kid but without knowing the depth of what it meant.

"When my father was called away to handle a matter, I slipped into his study to catch a glimpse of Captain Zev. Instead of rebuking me for skulking around, he told me a story of when he had retrieved Princess Arabella's diamond for her."

Raif spun around, lounging back on the railing, arms crossed. He stared out on the ship's deck like he was seeing the ghost that Isla often felt trailing beside her.

"Your father is the reason I took up the occupation I did. Though I only met him that one time, it left a lasting impression on me. From then on, whenever I traveled I would ask about him, hear stories of what he had achieved."

The pleasure the memory had brought fell from Raif's face as reality settled in. He let out a low breath, staring at the deck.

"When I heard he had died...I regretted that our paths had not crossed again." He lifted his gaze to Isla. "Your father was an admirable man."

Though her sorrow struck against her heart, the blow was not as deadening as it was before. Knowing someone else saw what she had always seen helped ease the pain. He was remembered.

"He was," she whispered.

Isla relaxed her fingers. Below her, the ship pushed against the ocean sending out ripples that would travel across the kingdom. The moon winked out of sight, slipping into the folds of the clouds. The pair held themselves apart even as the gap between them diminished.

"May I ask something of you?" Raif said, banishing the quiet.

Isla paused but agreed, knowing that he had given her back a bit of her father.

"What role does Jakks play in relation to you and the crew?"

It was a question Isla hadn't been expecting. Though Raif had only barely interacted with Jakks, she knew the crew would have offered bits of who he was when pressed. Isla took in a breath, racing through history in her mind.

"Jakks..." There were so many things he was. "Jakks was the son of a tailor. I found him as he was fighting off a few creditors that had come looking to call in his father's debts. Debts that had been left to him on his father's death. I helped him come out alive and my father made him part of the crew. He stayed with us for two years before moving on. He knew the ship would fall to me and he wished to one day be his own captain."

As Isla spoke she could see even more clearly how their lives were entwined. Their pasts similar to each other that there was a bond that was hard to deny. Still, with each asking of his for her to marry him, she said no.

"Since then we have often crossed paths."

Lately, it had been more than ever. Isla knew it wasn't a coincidence. He was tailing her. For what purpose, she couldn't be sure. He could be in Lord Sutherland's employ or he could be working alone.

"Do you trust him?" Raif asked.

"I trust Jakks to do what is in his best interest."

Raif peered up at the sky, watching as the skeins of wispy clouds ran out towards the edge of the earth.

"And is it because of him you believe there is a spy on the ship?"

Isla stiffened, not sure what to make of his line of inquiry or the extent of his observations.

"I merely ask because the crew found it strange that he appeared after the attack."

Isla had questioned whether the attack on the ship in Isha had been by his command. But she had also seen the look on his face when he saw the rigging on fire. There was an anger that said he would never have allowed such a thing. The ship had once been his only home.

Weary, Isla shook her head.

"I do not know," she murmured in all honesty.

When Raif looked at her, she met his gaze, the words drifting off.

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'Ello puppet!

*Falls to the deck of the ship* Oh thank the stars! The antagonism is at least over! Brutal barnacles that took forever! I honestly didn't know if that would ever end!

*Waves a hand towards you* Feel free to shout, leap, dance about in celebration. Share what tumbles though the tangles of your mind. 💭🗯💬🧜🏼‍♂️

A behind the scenes moment for you. When Raif mentioned knowing of Zev in the early chapters I had assumed he knew of him, like anyone would know of someone in their similar trade. I was not expecting Zev to be the reason that Raif took the career path he did! That totally took me by surprise when I wrote this and it was so cool to discover!

The life of a writer is weird, your characters talk to you and show up at random times and all you can do it go along with it and hope you're not simply insane but that it all means something.

Tell me I'm not insane. *curls into a ball and starts rocking back and forth* Please tell me I'm not insane. I can't take it if I am. *stresses so hard that I pass out*

La question du chapitre (French): If you were to describe your personality as a type of weather, what would you be?

Okay, my personality would be the type of weather that is right before summer, it's still spring and full of flowers and hope but the sun is shining more and there's a soft breeze, but still a bite of chill from time to time! (Cause you know I have my evil side) That's the type of weather I would be.

Vote for the sea, comment on the ocean, follow the waves!