A Game Of Changing Tides

Chapter Twenty-Six

1868, the First Witch's Island

In the distance, there were lights. Two small candle-wick flames danced on the deck of the Siren's Beckon, calling them closer. Adelyn could hear nothing but the sound of water hitting the ship below her, crashing against hard wooden boards and splattering off back into the ocean. It was menacing, in a way that she could not explain. In her ears, the sound grew louder and louder, until it filled them like a scream.

A few feet to her left, the witch was seated on the bottom step of the staircase that led up to the helm. Ri was already looking up, watching her. Their eyes met and Adelyn froze, unsure what to do. It felt as though she was being drawn in by a rope, tugged and pulled towards Ri, her will ignored. Adelyn's feet might have been firmly planted on the floor beneath her, but she felt as though she were moving forwards, floating, like dust caught in wind.

"Addie," Harlem croaked, drawing her attention back. She blinked, looking down at him. He was leaning against the mast, his eyes half open. To say he looked drained would be an understatement. Adelyn had never seen him look so exhausted, so weak. It was unnerving for her. "Get me some water would you? My throats tickling."

"No 'please'?" She teased, though her feet were already moving. She tapped the metal spout on one of the barrels to her left and poured a small bit of water into the mug that'd been sitting on top. When she handed it to Harlem, he downed it in one go and wiped at his lips as he set the cup down. "Don't choke."

"I'm not a child," Harlem frowned, his breathing heavy.

Adelyn shrugged, "Seems you've been acting like one."

His eyes narrowed, a frown playing on his lips. "What's that meant to mean?"

"You weren't supposed to follow me, you oaf. Look at the mess you made." She accused, her voice loud enough that Nikolai peered over from his stance a few paces away. Adelyn knew the look in his eyes-- he was asking her if everything was alright. Though Nina was mid-conversation, he waited for Adelyn to nod her head before he turned back to the pirate woman. The exchange didn't go unnoticed-- Harlem's eyes followed hers and his frown dug deeper into his cheeks.

He scoffed, "You weren't supposed to run off with a pirate. This is ridiculous, Addie. This isn't a storybook-- you could have gotten yourself killed."

"Excuse you," Adelyn's teeth clenched. She'd never been angry at him before, never more than mildly frustrated or slightly annoyed, but right then she was furious. His implication, the unsaid words, hurt her more than he'd likely meant, but they hurt nonetheless. She'd always been capable of taking care of herself, known she was much more than helpless. "But I did just fine. I'm not some weak wench, nor am I helpless. You are the one who got yourself stuck in a brig and pissing in a bucket."

Harlem's eyes widened, "I came looking for you, I was worried. I'm not going to apologize for that, not just because you feel guilty."

"Why on earth would I feel guilty?" Adelyn said, but her voice cracked. That was all it took. Harlem could read her just as well as a novel. He looked up and their eyes met, and neither of them could look away. Their conversation went silent, but it did not cease. A million things were being said between their gazes.

Harlem sighed, "It's not your fault, Adelyn."

"I should have told you I was going," she shook her head.

"I still would have come after you," Harlem said with a laugh, "that, or I might have tied you to the wall at Anne Marten's."

Adelyn stifled a giggle of her own. "Oh, gosh, the old hag's probably throwing a fit. Two of us gone in the same night."