Chapter 37 Blood trails
The room hushed, not entirely silent, but quiet enough to discern the whisper of cards sliding. I could feel my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs, a sound so deafening it felt like it was stealing my breath.
As I revealed my hand, a wave of disappointment washed over me; the cards were useless, fit for neither playing nor showing.
He pushed the pot toward the center with a grin that showed every tooth he had left.
“Show me, girl.”
I let the pause linger, just enough to build the tension, before gently laying them down. This would either work, or it was all for nothing.
I had two pairs.
Aces and Queens.
The sudden silence felt heavy, and for a moment, he froze, holding his breath. His neck suddenly flushed with a furious crimson, his anger visibly rising.
“Lucky,” he growled, slamming the map onto the table before me, his fists clenched.
“Lucky,” a voice whispered, barely audible, like a dry leaf.
For a moment, I remained stunned, unable to process what had just happened. I watched and listened intently for the sounds of amusement and lighthearted banter, but only quietness answered. The pirate's fury was a tangible force, building with each passing second. It was real, I had won the map.
I took it and tucked it inside my shirt in one smooth motion, pressing it flat against my skin where no one could get to it without trying something they’d regret.
What do I do now? This is what I hoped for and plan to happen. But now the map felt weighty against my chest, a burden tucked beneath my shirt.
With a boisterous thud, someone clapped me on the back. The action jolted me out of my state of disbelief. The greetings felt overly enthusiastic, a bit too hard and familiar for my taste.
As I stood there, I could feel the weight of the eyes fixed upon me. They offered no warmth or welcome whatsoever. They, too, had yearned for the map in my hand, but their opportunity had slipped away.
I left before they could decide how they were going to acquire it from me.
—
While getting a drink at the bar, I experienced an inexplicable shift in the room; a feeling that, though odd, brought me peace, just as a shadow fell over the bar.
I turned.
Still damp from the rain, Fisk stood there, his shirt marked by spreading, darkened wet patches. Whether dirt or blood, an unidentifiable smear ran across his cheekbone.
His gaze met mine, and his eyes traced over me with a slow, deliberate intensity.
"So, they say you stripped an old man bare of all his possessions." His voice was just loud enough to reach me, a private whisper in the air.
With a shrug, I worked my shoulders, loosening the tight muscles. "It wasn't much of anything,"
His eyes shifted downward, a momentary lapse in his steady stare. The worn map, a mere shadow of itself, felt like a weighty secret against my skin, tucked beneath my shirt. It was as if he could discern my possessions, and then his gaze returned to my face.
Something in his expression shifted, Not softer but Sharper.
“The Ghost’ll be in the cove before sunrise.”
Her words sank deep, pressing down on my chest.st. His words carried the weight of certainty, devoid of any invitation.
I gave a single, decisive nod.
"Good," Ireplied, a single word that brushed aside the unsettling implications of what he had said.
A moment of silence hung in the air before he replied. I was close enough to observe the way his jaw clenched, as if restraining himself, and to see the lingering raindrops at the ends of his hair.
The room momentarily dissolved, creating a sense of isolation for just the two of us, and I was acutely aware of the powerful emotions shared.
“You did good,” he said finally.
The words were right. The tone carried a noticeable distance. A line drawn somewhere I couldn’t see but could feel all the same.
"I know," I said, a hint of weariness in my voice. It came out with a steadier tone than my inner turmoil suggested.
A barely perceptible twitch played at the corner of his lips, a hint of amusement that didn't quite form into a smile. He took a step backward and spun around. He vanished into the mass of people as if the crowd had devoured him, leaving me unable to decide if I should pursue.
—
Upstairs, the room felt smaller than it had that morning. I shut the door and leaned against it for a second, listening to the muffled roar below. Then I pulled the map free. Laid it out on the bed Careful and Slow.
The parchment resisted at first, holding onto its creases like secrets. I smoothed them out with the flat of my hand, pressing until it gave.
The map's lines shifted, revealing the island's position. The map clearly depicted the reef's position and the island's outline. The storms were depicted as tight, swirling circles, conveying a sense of being trapped and furious.
I ran my fingertip along the paper's boundary, feeling its texture. From a cut, a sharp stinging sensation bloomed. My finger stung, and a bead of blood fell, a tiny red island on the vast expanse of the map.
My blood moved in ways I could not explain exposing a path. Could it be trusted? Maybe.
I traced the path my blood took with my finger. I felt the shape of it settle somewhere behind my ribs. At the end of the path an X formed.
I stared at it.
Then, before I could think better of it, I lifted the map and pressed my lips to that spot. The parchment tasted like salt and old hands. I held it there a second too long. Then lowered it and Folded it then Tucked it away.
The shape felt familiar. Something I have seen before a hundred times. I shook the thought away. I had a long day.
My fingers closed around the blue ribbon at the end of my braid, its softness a familiar comfort.
After pulling it tighter, I ensured it was knotted firmly. It helped to keep me grounded with all my emotional turmoil.
I sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the distant roll of the sea beyond the walls, the promise of it creeping closer with every passing hour.
The Sun would begin to arise and The Ghost would be waiting.
And I—
I pressed my palm against the map, sensing its outline beneath the fabric. I pondered the possibilities of what I might encounter. I contemplated what sacrifices it would demand. I hoped I would be okay with it when the day came.