Never, Never by Brianna Shrum

Author:Brianna Shrum
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Spencer Hill Press
Published: 2015-08-14T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY

GONE. MISSING. SEVERED. DETACHED. DEPARTED. There were lots of ways to describe James’s conspicuously absent hand, but none he could wrap his mind around. He could not really convince himself that not only had a rather important piece of him vacated his wrist, but it was likely that it no longer existed at all. It wasn’t waiting somewhere, eager to reattach itself to him; it was somewhere in the belly of a crocodile, being digested.

He sat in the warm sand at the shore of the Never Sea, nymphs and other small sea creatures flowing in with the tide and back out again, but he paid no attention to them. He flexed his left hand over and over again, marveling at the complexity of the muscles and the veins, checking occasionally to see if somehow the one on his right had reappeared. It felt sometimes as though it had; strangely, he could still feel it doing hand-like things from time to time. But, each time his nerves deceived him, his eyes reminded him of the truth.

“Captain?” said Starkey, approaching his right side.

James did not answer.

“There’s something I’d like you to see.”

James continued staring at his hand. Starkey sighed. Likely the entire crew was used, by now, to James’s melancholy. Ever since the incident, he hadn’t interacted much with anyone, except to occasionally eat or drink.

He cocked his head. “Why do you suppose it ticks, Starkey?”

Starkey jumped at James’s voice. “Beggin’ yer pardon?”

“Why does it tick? The crocodile?”

Starkey cleared his throat and furrowed his brow. “Eh, well, I imagine it’s because some time ago, it swallowed a clock. Been tickin’ ever since.”

“Hm.”

James’s mind went blank again, and he returned to flexing and stretching his remaining hand.

“Captain, I hate to force you up from the beach, but I’ve got somethin’ for you. Somethin’ I’ve made. I think it’ll brighten you up,” Starkey said, staring straight into James’s vacant eyes.

James pursed his lips and rolled his eyes up to Starkey. Starkey was something of a persistent man. He felt a vague current of irritation but rose from the sand anyway and stood on the shore for a moment before finally deciding to walk toward the Main. They boarded the vessel together, and James turned to his crewman, arms folded expectantly.

“A moment, Captain,” Starkey said, and he walked off down the beach, disappearing into a tiny cave near the shore.

James stood there, ignoring the open stares of his crewmen, trying not to look at the awful stump at the end of his arm. It had healed nicely and was no longer painful to the touch, but it was peppered with little spots and burn scars, reminders of the terrible coals. After what felt like several minutes, Starkey clopped up onto the ship, cleared his throat, and James turned.

In Starkey’s hand was a shiny cuff, delicately filigreed with leaves and vines and several other markings James couldn’t quite make out from where he stood. Attached to the top of the silvery cuff was a hook. It was perfectly crafted, thick and with a wicked curve, bright and gleaming, and deadly sharp.

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