Dexter struggled up the stairs before she could recover, making his way towards the weathered old man lying in the bed. The man’s eyes were open and he stared hatefully towards Dexter, yet he seemed incapable of rising up. Dexter looked down at him and drew his sword with his right hand while the amulet was still clutched tightly in his left. He heard Jenna coming behind him and he knew his time was short.
“She’s not your puppet!” Dexter spat at the man, then threw the amulet on his chest. Less than a heartbeat later he felt the burning tug of steel as it entered his lower back.
Dexter looked down in shock, seeing the red coated blade of Jenna’s rapier emerging from his belly. He looked up at the old man and saw a hateful glee burning in his gaze. “She belongs to no man!” Dexter said, and drove his magical blade through both the amulet and the former Lord’s chest, pinning him to the bed.
Jenna and the old man screamed in unison. Dexter slid to his knees and used the edge of the bed to keep himself up from falling over. At least Jenna had let go of the sword that impaled him. A moment later Jenna gasped.
* * * *
A long moment of silence followed Rosh’s statement. Willa looked at him, uncertain of what to say. Rosh turned to meet her gaze and shrugged again. “My ma told me when I was a twelve.”
“I left home a couple years later. Had to find him and tell him who I was. Then…well…” Rosh trailed off into silence again.
“My mother was a slave,” Willa said. “She tried to care for me as a baby, I’m told, but she took ill. There’s no money to be had in healing a slave.”
Willa hid her bitterness well, but some still shone through. “Some of the others that owned us all tried to take care of me, but they had trouble enough getting by. I was forced to find my own way begging, stealing, and learning various skills.”
She looked at Rosh and smiled sadly, “I never knew who my father was.”
Rosh grunted. “Sometimes that’s the best.”
She nodded, hugging him with her arm consolingly. “I pretend I ain’t got a dad,” he said. “Truth is I don’t — he don’t want nothing to do with me. He didn’t even offer me a spot on his crew when I found him; just told me I was a worthless bastard and to get out of his sight.”
Willa cringed, imagining how that must have crushed the boy version of the man she now clung to. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Rosh chuckled. “Don’t be. He was right. Took me a few years to figure it out though.”
“Rosh! You’re not worthless! I can’t imagine anyone-“
Rosh put a finger to her lips to silence her. He chuckled. “You’re damn right I ain’t! Just took some time for me to figure it out. I got being a sumbitch in my blood,” he explained. “I know I can be good at it too — Dexter tell you where he found me?”
Willa shook her head. “I was working for pirates, not doing nothing but following in his footsteps.”
“How’d you end up on the Voidhawk?”
“Dexter talked to me,” he said. “Made me realize there might be more to it. Made me think killing and stealing ain’t the only way to make some gold.”
Rosh chuckled. “The Captain don’t know none of this, mind you.”
Willa nodded and smiled, then kissed him. “He’ll never hear it from me.”
Rosh nodded, then smiled. “There it is,” he said.
“What?”
“That itch — it’s back.”
Willa, startled at the topic change, looked around. It was a pretty enough town, but it seemed to have lost some of its appeal. Where once she had found no flaws, now she saw patches of grass that were not perfectly colored. Other imperfections were evident as welclass="underline" shingles that were not placed quite right on roofs, potholes in the roads, shutters and doors that were not a perfect fit, and other such anomalies.
“What happened?” Willa asked, confused.
Rosh shrugged. “Best get back to the ‘Hawk — Dex’ll be wondering about us.”
“Rosh!” Willa said, remembering the festival through the fog of alcohol that had blurred the evening. “Jenna! She’s the new Lord here!”
Rosh cursed, then apologized. Willa smiled, amazed to have such an effect on the big man. “You’re right, let’s get back quick. Something ain’t right about this place. The Captain won’t stand for that, least not if he’s half as smart as I am.”
Willa laughed and rolled off of the big man. She reached for her clothes and blushed when her exposed position provoked a sharp intake of breath from Rosh and then a wolf whistle from him.
“Dex!” Jenna cried out, rushing to his side and holding him steady as he kneeled next to the bed.
Dexter looked up at her, a painful smile on his face. “You owe me again,” he said.
Jenna’s lips quivered and she nodded. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes and she buried her face in his neck. “I don’t care how long I live,” she whispered to him, “I’ll never repay you — you’ll have to keep me by your side the whole time.”
Dexter glanced down at the steel impaling him. “Deal,” he whispered.
“I heard everything you said,” she said. “I forgive you.”
“If you heard me, why’d you go and stab me?”
“I wasn’t in control,” she said. “I…oh Dex — I’m so sorry! That amulet took over. I thought you had left me and I just gave in to it. I didn’t care anymore.”
“Your part of my crew,” he said, gasping as he shifted slightly and fresh tremors of pain wracked him. “I don’t abandon my crew.”
Jenna smiled around her tears. “Just part of the crew?”
“Well-“
“Captain! Jenna!” Logan and Bekka said as they poked their head in through the broken doors. Keshira was there as well, and she pushed through them to hurry to Dexter’s side.
“Captain, you are hurt — how can I fix you?” Keshira asked him, concern and worry evident on her face.
“There’s no fixing this,” Dexter said, glancing down again. “You can carry me to the ‘Hawk though.” He grimaced as he shifted, feeling the blade sawing inside of him. Blood stained his shirt and he felt lightheaded as well.
“I need to see it one more time,” he gasped.
Jenna nodded to Keshira, unable to speak. Logan hurried forward and knelt down beside him. “Cut his shirt off,” he ordered, interposing himself between Keshira and Dexter.
Dexter swam in and out of consciousness, his head rolling as he fought to stay awake a little longer. He knew that sleep meant death, and he was not going without a fight.
“Do it!” Logan yelled, surprising the others into action. Bekka stood nearby and she lunged forward to grab his shirt and slip a small knife she had into it, cutting it free and pulling it away from him.
Blood coated Dexter’s stomach and back. The wound looked clean, around the blade, but overall it was an obscene picture. Dexter shook his head and hissed in pain. The movement caused more blood to leak out as well.
“Dexter, we have to remove the blade — you’ll have to fight to stay awake while I try to mend your wounds,” Logan said.
“You can heal him?” Jenna asked, hope stilling the tremors in her voice.
Logan nodded, though his face did not show the look of confidence she had hoped to see. “It is a terrible wound, but I might be able to save him if he does not lose too much blood.”
“Do it,” Dexter growled, barely following the conversation.
Logan nodded. “Jenna, when I nod again, pull the blade free. Keshira hold him still, and Bekka, do what you can to stop the blood from escaping him.”
Logan bowed his head and forced his breathing calm while he summoned up the priestly magic he would need. He began to chant, invoking the powers of his distant God, and nodded when he was ready.
Dexter gasped and stiffened when Jenna pulled the blade free in a single clean jerk. Keshira held him still easily, though he writhed in agony. Bekka pushed against the slit in his back to stem the flow of the dark red blood. Logan’s fingers were quickly coated in blood as well as he channeled his energies into Dexter’s belly, seeking out and repairing the severed tissues as best he could.