A Game Of Changing Tides

Chapter Twenty-Four

1868, the First Witch's Island

Water filled her lungs, instead of the air that she'd been craving. With frantic movements, she swam, trying desperately to find the lake's surface. She no longer felt a pull to the water; it wasn't trying to draw her in as it had before.

Maybe that was because she was already drowning.

Finally, Adelyn's hand met air, and her head soon followed. Gasping, she coughed out all of the lake water that she'd swallowed, breathing. It was a glorious feeling, one she'd never take for granted again.

She grinned, feeling the stone and the pendant in her fingers, the buzz of their magic still working. She turned back to the lake, seeing the gold coins of the cavern spilled over the bottom of the lake, the bags toppled over and rippling beneath the surface of the water. Pride filled her chest. She turned towards the shore, where the crew had been standing before she'd gone to the cave, and her smile dropped.

The crew was not alone.

Captain Greywell was not the last person Adelyn would have expected to see on the island, but he was still unexpected all the same. Two of his men stood with knives at Xavier and James' throats, another had two guns aimed at Nina and Stinger's heads. Nikolai stood off to the side, no weapon at hand, right in the path of Greywell's own gun.

Adelyn felt the joy she'd been feeling fade away at the sight of it all. Nikolai turned towards her, taking his eyes off of his attackers weapon, and she saw emotion flicker across his face. Disbelief and awe, shown clearly on his features.

"You're alive," he mumbled, letting out a humorless laugh. "I'll be damned."

Adelyn nodded, slowly swimming towards the shore. Greywell didn't look her way, but he knew she was there. A small smile hinted at the old man's lips, "There's the girl. Knew she was hiding around here somewhere."

"Nik." Adelyn pleaded, ignoring Captain Greywell. She didn't know what to do. All of Greywell's men had their weapons trained on someone already, but she couldn't do much anyways. All she had was a knife, and the Captain would shoot her before she got close enough to use it. That much, she was sure of.

Nikolai swallowed, "Seems the good Captain found his own way onto the island."

Greywell snorted, "I had the watch, that made it easy enough."

"You need witch's blood," Adelyn mumbled, shaking her head. "I don't understand.."

"You aren't the only descendant," Greywell shrugged. "I've had one in the brig for months. Rotting. Waiting until she could be of use."

Adelyn felt bile in her throat at the thought of it. She'd lucked out with Nikolai and his crew-- she could have been that girl, should someone else have found her first. She didn't imagine Greywell's ship's brig was anywhere anyone would have wanted to be, least of all herself.

Slowly, so as to not draw attention to herself, Adelyn brought her hand up to her neckline and dropped the stone and pendant into her bodice. Nikolai watched her, his eyes dancing with surprise when he recognised the dark jewel, but he said nothing. As far as she could tell, he was the only one who'd seen she had them.

Hopefully, it would stay that way.

"Where have you been hiding, wench?" Greywell said, still not looking her way. They both knew it'd be a death sentence if he did-- Nikolai would grab the gun before he could even think of looking back. "Nikolai here was making it sound as though you were dead."

The look on Nik's face told her he'd thought she was, and she swallowed. As far as he and the crew had known, she'd dove under the water and just hadn't resurfaced. What would have happened if she hadn't found a way out of the cave?, she wondered. Would they just have dismissed her as drowned and made their way off of the wretched island, thinking they were leaving her body to rot in the lake?