Bitter as a captain, p.6
Bitter as a Captain, page 6
“Refusing to help?” Morris repeats, aghast. He glares at Bluebeard and shakes his head. “I’ll make you a deal, Bell. We have a room for you tonight and—”
Bluebeard’s growl interrupts him and Morris shoots him daggers. “It’s only polite.” To me, he says, “Tomorrow, I’ll take you to Rough Haven, the nearest town, and we can find someone who might be able to help there.”
Bluebeard slams his fists against the table, making everything clatter on top and me jump in my seat at the sudden sound, and stands. With a harsh snarl, he turns and storms from the room as if I’ve just insulted his mother.
“Don’t mind him, dear,” Morris says sadly. “He’s just not had need to be social in a long time.”
“Why?” I ask, curious.
But Morris smiles gently in a way I know he isn’t going to tell me. “There are some secrets better left buried, Bell.” He pushes away his plate and stands. “Leave your dishes there and I’ll tend to them later. If you follow me, I’ll show you to your room.”
CHAPTER 13
The castle is endless. Morris leads me through hallway after hallway, Logan at my feet, as he traverses the maze like it’s not a maze at all. I’m lost after the first five turns and start to suspect the trip is meant to throw me off before Morris stops at a single blue door and smiles.
“Ah yes. Here we are. Finally.”
He pushes at it, and it opens on silent hinges despite the general dustiness of everything. Clearly, someone is still tending to the place, even if they’re not able to keep up. Once inside the room, however, there isn’t much dust at all, as if this single room has mostly been kept clean.
“I apologize for the dust,” Morris says sadly. “I’m the only one left and keeping up with the cleaning has been impossible. You’re the first guest we’ve had in a while but thankfully, I’ve maintained this room just in case. You’ll find the rest of the rooms dirty, I’m afraid.”
“It’s pretty,” I muse, looking around the room.
The stone continues through the room but along the walls hang tapestries and paintings, all beautiful landscapes and scenes. There’s one of the castle painted bright and cheerful, a time that no longer exists clearly. Another painting depicts a large ship on a violent ocean.
There’s a large four poster bed against the right side, up on a dais. The sheets and bedding look comfortable, the dark blue swirling pattern inviting. Logan immediately jumps up on it and spins around, making himself a little nest that he lies in. I’m tempted to tell him to get off the fancy duvet but Morris smiles at the sight before I can speak, so I have to assume it’s okay.
“You’re welcome to explore,” Morris continues. “If any door is locked, you’re not meant to go inside, understand?”
I look at him over my shoulder. “Are there many locked doors?”
“Not many,” he admits. “But best stay away from the ones that are.” He looks down at his wrist though there isn’t a watch there and sighs. “I have so much to do before our trip tomorrow. We’ll leave bright and early. You’ll be okay until then?”
“Of course,” I say, gesturing for him to leave. “I can handle myself, Morris. Don’t worry about me.”
He nods. “If you get lost, just follow the stones with the circle marks on them and eventually they’ll bring you back here. Good evening.” He bows and then backs out of the room, ever the gracious host.
Unlike the other host.
Exhaustion calls me toward the bed but instead of laying down, I pet Logan on his head, comforting him to sleep. “I think I’m going to walk around the hallways a bit, so I sleep better,” I admit. My curiosity is getting the better of me and I’ll never be able to sleep with it pulling at my brain.
I can’t explain it, but something tells me I need to go for a walk, to move around the halls. Some secret part of me hopes to come across the Captain again, but that’s silly. He doesn’t want me here—he’s made that very clear—so then why can’t I get the idea of befriending him out of my mind? It’s foolish, but I suppose not the most foolish thing I’ve done. After all, I’ve chased after armed poachers and crazy people many a time.
Logan doesn’t offer to get up, so I leave him and close the door behind me. I study the stone, indeed seeing a circle stamped into them, and turn right in the opposite direction we came from. I don’t know what instinct I follow or why I suddenly have it, but I’m turning corners without consciously making the decision, one after the other, until I reach a hallway that ends.
There are doors on either side, most of them unlocked and filled with dusty furniture like Morris promised, but the last door at the end of the hallway proves locked. The door itself is worn and aged, but also seems well taken care of. Someone has been oiling the wood and keeping the carvings free of dust. I tug on the knob, but nothing happens. It doesn’t give. One of the locked doors Morris spoke of clearly. Despite knowing he told me I couldn’t go inside any locked doors, curiosity eats at me far stronger than it ever has before. Tracing a finger over the lock, I realize this sort of lock requires a skeleton key, and such mechanisms usually have a sight you can see through.
Kneeling down, I try to peer through the keyhole, my curiosity getting the better of me, but I can’t see anything except for darkness, as if the keyhole is blocked off completely.
The door itself is super ornate and decorate, carvings along the edges that don’t make a lot of sense until I step back. The scene is like an epic battle, a ship sailing along the ocean fighting sea monsters, characters carved into the wood. The animals seem to be chasing the sun at the top and center, running toward it. Most of the human characters are men, sailors, but one is a woman, standing with her hair billowing in the wind separate from the others. She looks angry as she lifts her arms into the sky, as if she’s controlling the very sea around her. Her fingers reach toward the sun at the top.
“What do you hide?” I murmur, staring at the door for a moment longer before I shake my head and turn away. “You’re losing your mind, Bell. Just move on.”
So I do, but the image of the door haunts me as I follow the circles back to my room. It takes twice as long to get back as it did to find the secret door but eventually, I find it. Realizing there’s a washroom off to the side, I use it to clean up and peel my sweaty clothing from my body. There’s more clothing left in the washroom for me, somehow in my size, and there are two options to choose from. Morris apparently thinks of everything.
One of the piles of cloth is a yellow dress which I immediately put aside. While I don’t mind dresses, this doesn’t seem like the occasion to wear something like that, not when I might be fighting more monsters. The seconds set is a pair of pants and a flowy shirt. That’ll be my option for tomorrow, but for tonight, I simply grab the flowy shirt and pull it on, using it as a sleeping gown after washing up.
I wander back out into the room where Logan is snoring gently and realize there’s a balcony behind the curtains against the wall. I walk over to it and open the doors, stepping out into the cool night air. It’s heaven on my skin. Exhaustion weighs down my bones, but I still inhale the salt from the sea that I can now see crashing against the beach below the castle and marvel in the way it feels as it tosses my hair around my shoulders. This scenery, the sounds of the ocean, I can see why Bluebeard chose this location. It’s both beautiful and calming.
Looking out over the beach, I study a massive ship leaning there, shipwrecked but still intact as it sits nestled in the sand. As I stare at it, I can just make out a massive shape walking along the beach, moving around the large ship, trailing along the beach.
The temptation to go down there and walk with him is strong, but instead, I step back inside the room, close the doors, and let sleep overtake me as I cuddle up to Logan.
CHAPTER 14
BLUEBEARD
The Curieux was once a fine ship, rising above the sea like the star she is. Large in stature and far more technologically advanced than any ship of her time, or even any ship of this time, she was once a fine vessel. I’d once sailed across the seas on her deck, chasing the stars that weren’t always from the same world, going on adventure after adventure with my crew.
And now she sits on the beach like a tombstone. This sand will mark her grave.
I miss the ocean, the wild freedom of sailing through a storm, the waves crashing over the balustrades and threatening to sweep off any man who dared to not hang on. Those days were far simpler than they are now. Those days were happier.
But that was all before the curse and the ruin it has caused me.
Now, I walk along the beach, taking in the castle on the hill that serves as its own landmark and statement, studying the ship that once took on a kraken and won. She’s a mighty ship, and one day, perhaps I’ll sail her into the sea and never return, but it’s been centuries since she last saw water. I might find my own grave before I find the courage to brave the treacherous waves again.
But there are just as treacherous times on land as there are at sea.
Even now, I’m tempting fate by having a woman in my home. Belladonna. Her eyes flash fire when she’s angry, this beautiful mix of aggression and strength. Someone once taught her how to stand up to someone threatening to take her down and it shows.
Even while I walk along the beach, my eyes wander up to the balcony I know she temporarily uses. I can’t see her there, the doors closed, but light spills from the window. If she were smart, the moment she gets the chance, she’d run as far away as possible from me. Despite my curiosity and the urge to talk to her, I know it for the mistake it is.
No one is safe from the death I leave in my wake.
But I still can’t get her out of my mind, the way she’d gone toe to toe with me, the way she didn’t back down. I know she’ll never back down, even if the odds are against her. Simply watching the way she seeks her way home with such determination sets me on fire.
When was the last time I’d felt such direction? When was the last time I could look a decision in the face and choose?
I’ve always preferred the meek and sweet women, dolls who need protecting, but Belladonna is none of those things. She’s fiery, strong-willed, independent. I didn’t realize how sexy such characteristics could be, how much of a draw it is for someone to look me in the eyes and be willing to fight. It makes me want to take her on, to battle with wits and pleasure, and therein lies the danger.
She needs to go quickly. I don’t care what she needs.
I need her gone from my castle before I do something we both regret.
CHAPTER 15
RUMPELSTILTSKIN
“This is stupid,” Cheshire grumbles from behind me. “We’ve trekked all over this world and can’t find this person anyone speaks of. He’s not here.”
“He’s here,” I argue. “I can feel it in my bones.”
“We’re not even sure he can help us,” Cal points out, her mood far better than her cat’s. Of the two, she’s definitely enjoying the adventure we’re on.
But to me, this isn’t an adventure at all. It’s a necessity.
“There are rumors that The Bartender knows of every world, has seen them all.” I remind them of the words we’d heard, of the promise. “While he may not know what we seek, he should know someone who does.”
Cheshire sighs but the moment Cal slips her hand into his, he calms, those cat ears sitting up, a tiny smile flashing at the woman at his side. It makes me miss my Evangeline so much more.
Every night, I look to the sky, searching for the bright star she is. No matter the world, she still shines up there for me, as if she follows me through, as if she’s keeping as close of an eye on me as I am on her. She’s waiting for me, and the longer it takes to find this Bartender character, the longer it takes for me to hold her again.
It takes everything to keep my wits about me as time continues to pass.
“The Enchanted Forest is less threatening than Wonderland,” Cal says. “Not once has one of the trees tried to eat me.”
I laugh, looking back her in amusement. “It’s to lull you into a false sense of security. It’s not the trees you have to worry about here, but the people.”
Her face hardens. “I was there when Cinder’s Ex appeared. I remember what the people of this realm are like. There’s no need to remind me.”
“Wolves in sheep’s clothing,” Cheshire nods. “Every person here is a threat, the same as they would be in Grimm. This Bartender will be no different.”
The tiny town comes into view as they continue to discuss the dangers around us, as they make plans for instances that may arise, but my eyes can only linger on the tiny pub, the last one we’ve yet to check in the area. The Bartender is supposed to be here somewhere, and if he’s not here, then we have nothing. Again, I’ll be lost and have no sense of direction. How frustrating it is to know where I need to go but know not how to get there.
“Come on,” I say, leading Cal and Cheshire toward the pub. “Last one and then we can regroup if we need to.”
As we walk into the streets of the town, every eye goes to us. What a sight we make, the three of us. Cheshire with his feline features striking against his golden skin. Cal with her fierce eyes and the large sword running down her back. The antlers growing proudly from my head I couldn’t bring myself to cut because Eva had liked them. The looks shot our way are hostile and I know we must tread carefully here.
Or else we’ll be stuffed and displayed like wild animals.
No one stops us as we walk through the town though they all turn to watch us and our trajectory. Women and men, creatures, keep their gazes on our movements, as if we’re the next threat. . .
. . .or the next meal.
I bare my teeth at the nearest ogre that dares to lick its lips. The creature doesn’t flinch, too stupid to understand I’m no easy dinner.
I’m the one who pushes open the door to the pub, the one who bears the eyes of every patron the moment I’m silhouetted in the sunlight. Here, unlike Grimm, the sun is always shining it seems. Even at night, the sun doesn’t dim completely, as if it can’t bear to leave the world in darkness. A strange concept when Grimm is almost always dark, sunlight rarely coming out to play.
The creature playing fiddle in the corner stops at our entrance and stares. The sounds of conversation and boisterous laughter die. The man behind the counter watches us warily as he cleans a glass.
Ducking a little so my antlers don’t catch on the top of the door, I make my way toward the bar despite the silence that follows in my wake. Cal and Cheshire keep close in case things turn south. They could. The moment they decide we’re a threat, we’ll be bombarded with attacks, but we won’t get to that.
“I’m looking for someone,” I say when I reach the bar. “A man.”
The barkeep looks around with raised brows. “There’s plenty of men around if they strike your fancy, though some of them might not be great lays.”
“Hey, fuck you!” Someone shouts, and there’s laughter.
“I’m looking for a specific man,” I correct. “One who goes by the name The Bartender.”
“I’m the only bartender here, I’m afraid. Most of my patrons just call me Viktor.”
My shoulders slump. We’ve come so far only to be empty handed again. We’ve tried every tavern and pub we could find, and nothing. It all accounts to nothing.
“It’s alright, Rumple. We’ll keep looking,” Call offers. Despite her tough exterior, the Wonderlander has a heart that bleeds for me, that understands. But she can’t. Not really. She hasn’t lost Cheshire. She can only imagine, and it’s so much worse than she thinks.
“Thanks, anyways,” I murmur, and we turn to leave.
The barkeep keeps cleaning his glass, watching us carefully. The rest of the patrons stand suddenly and move as a unit. They shuffle together, wearing equal expressions of threat and hostility, as they block the only exit.
Cheshire snarls. “I suggest you move before I move you.”
“You know,” the barkeep says, still cleaning the same glass. “I once heard a story of the famed Rumpelstiltskin who spun his weight in gold to prove a point.”
I freeze and glance over my shoulder. “Stories, nothing more.”
“Yet you barter in deals and magic?”
“I have no time for deals,” I growl. “I have somewhere to be.”
The barkeep smiles. “Be that as it may, I’ll make a deal with you, Rumple.” His eyes crinkle. “What do you say? You want to pick the brain of The Bartender?”
I turn fully to face him, understanding exactly what he is, who he is. How could I have not seen it before, the aura of power around him as he scrubs the glass. I blame it on the panic, on the desperation I’m allowing to cloud my vision. I need to be stronger for Eva. I need to be more aware.
Cheshire and Cal take up stands behind me, a unit I never expected for us to become.
“What do you want?” I ask.
The Bartender grins. “There’s an old cabin out in the woods. . .
CHAPTER 16
BELLADONNA
Rough Haven is a three hour walk from Bluebeard’s castle so when Morris said we needed to leave bright and early, he meant it. Of course, bright and early in this world doesn’t mean the same thing as it does in my world. At home, in the morning on a good day, the sun peeks over the horizon and rises into the sky throughout the day. Here in Grimm, the sunshine is muted as if run through a filter and given just enough reign to light up the ground but not much else. It leaves everything feeling dreary and grimm, which I suppose makes sense. This is the Grimm Forest, after all.
“So, what’s the story with the giant ship wrecked on the beach?” I ask as Morris, Logan, and I head into the trees. I don’t ask if we need extra protection with stilted slugs running around. Morris seems to know what he’s doing.
