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My crew set themselves to quick work adjusting sails and securing rigging as we caught the wind and soared onward. The storm winds sucked us right in, pulling us toward it with ease.
I caught glimpse of Clara rushing among the men, nearly shoving them out of her way as she worked faster than any of the others. Her position was a deckhand, but here she was handling the rigging and setting up the mainmast more masterfully than I’d seen any men aboard this ship manage. Later I’d decide whether to chide her or promote her for it.
I looked back to see that Thane’s ship had opened full sail, too, emerging from the mist and closing the already too-short distance between us. Even with a ship his size, the winds were favorable enough to give him just enough of a boost to catch up quickly. A clap of thunder struck as lightning cracked in the distant sky like a whip. The storms were probably just a bit over thirty minutes away. They were crawling away from us, but we were moving much faster right into them. I’d rather not be caught up in the line, though it certainly wouldn’t be the first torrent we’d braved at sea in the Falcon. But a heavy storm might just be the thing to put some distance between Thane and me for now. I doubt he would take the chance of losing another ship.
But to my surprise, Thane didn’t slow. He followed us, probably desperate to land a blow despite the stupidity of it in these conditions. I left Felix at the helm to walk the deck, checking our ammunition as men loaded cartridges and prepared the cannons. I silently yearned for this battle, but I also knew that even with my thirst for seeing Thane’s head roll, a fierce storm and a massive warship at our backs wasn’t setting up for the best outcome. But if he insisted on being stubborn, so would I. Stubborn, or perhaps stupid, it was all the same to me.
Minutes passed, and the foggy morning skies began to darken. The wind strengthened with the scent of coming rain. I resumed my place at the wheel, Felix at my side as we sailed carefully. Thane’s ship was close enough within range now that if he were to open fire, he might just be able to reach us if he had a front bow chaser cannon, which would be likely on a gunship like his. But he was much farther than he should be if he hoped for any kind of precision. I wouldn’t waste my ammunition at this distance. I wouldn’t open fire on him till I knew I was close enough to sink his rig and take him on with my bare hands. And that day wasn’t today, unfortunately.
Suddenly, a burst of wind sent us forward, towing us just out of reach and within the storm’s suction. Thane must’ve known he was losing ground. His ship, barely in range, sent a small wave of cannonballs sweeping across the ocean’s surface. Most of them arched and crashed into the water behind us, just a few inches from the Falcon’s stern. But a couple did make impact, slamming the hull and one even grazing a spar on the mainmast. The cracking wood made my stomach sink and my senses heighten. The wooden pole splintered, falling with a bit of sail still attached to it. But at least it wasn’t the mast itself.
I asked Felix to tell the crew to hold off the cannons and start taking down the sails and securing ballasts before we reached the storm. He rushed to the forecastle deck to yell the orders. We didn’t have time to turn and line up our guns, but I wouldn’t leave Thane with nothing to show for his efforts. I rushed to a swivel cannon at the stern, where I released fire at his ship, taking out part of the foremast. That would slow him down considerably. As my men cheered, their voices were drowned out by the sound of one more front cannon blast from Thane. A chain shot. It whirled over the railing just far enough to clip Felix’s head.
He dropped like a bag of sand. My gaze flicked from his bloody skull to Thane’s ship. It was turning now, retreating.
“Damn coward.” I muttered. It was only fitting of him to try his luck at one shot before running away from the storm like the piece of shite he was. And luck had been on his side to take out my first mate. I rushed back to the helm and gripped the wheel, Felix’s blood pooling and trickling along the woodgrain to the soles of my boots. I shifted the rudder, taking back control against the choppy water and wind. I ordered some deckhands to move Felix’s body somewhere safe until we could give him a proper burial at sea.
“Batten down the hatches and brace for rough seas ahead!” I called out, eyeing the dark clouds and curtain of rain right in front of us. There was no way to pull out of it now. And I prayed our damaged mast would hold up as we headed for the eye of the storm.
22
Any Port
Milo
The Falcon fared well in the storm. She rocked and slammed against the waves, but she was sturdy. With most of the crew riding it out belowdecks, a handful stayed up at my command to help secure a few more loose items and repair any immediate damage caused by the storm. Clara was one of them, even though I didn’t ask her to.
The blinding rain and wind whipped my face, and my muscles strained against the wheel threatening to be pulled from my grip by the waves. But I could see the clearing just up ahead. Without our sails we couldn’t hurry through to the other side, but just the sight of a blue sky gave me enough motivation to weather through it.
After an hour of lashing wind and waves, the sun welcomed us, and quickly brought its heat to make us forget the bite of the storm. The crew emerged, likely as hungry as I was. Rodrigo, the cook set to working, bringing each man his ration of breakfast—a porridge sweetened with butter and rum water. To my empty stomach it was a delicacy, and the nourishment helped to clear my head.
I studied the horizon, nearly calling Felix to help chart out our course, out of habit, but realizing he wouldn’t be answering my call, I stopped myself. The storm had long washed away his blood, but I stared at the spot where he fell and called the men to bring him up. For a moment, I regretted that I never learned more about him than what I knew. One minute he was here. A whole life. And the next, in an instant, gone from this world. Not that I was unacquainted with death, but this one felt an awful lot like my fault.
Gathered at the stern with my crew, I laid his sword and pistol across him in the most ornate manner I could manage before we wrapped him in a shroud fashioned from his hammock. I read a rite from the ship’s common prayer book, and then nodded to the crew to proceed with committing his body to the deep. He slid into the water and then sank slowly from the weights tied to him.
A somber quiet fell over my crew. Many of them had known Felix longer than I had, except the men I recruited on my own after taking this ship. I wondered how many of them secretly resented me for killing their captain and claiming the crew. I wondered if any of them actually cared. That was the price of being captain. I never knew who’d stayed out of loyalty, out of fear, or the desire for revenge. Except Felix. He was loyal to the sea and this ship, and I admired that about him.
Now I needed a new first mate.
I reworked our course, adjusting based on how much the storm tossed us off course. It hadn’t caused us to drift too far, so it would only take an extra afternoon to pick up where we left off. I charted our location, noticing an island just up ahead, a random lush formation in the middle of the Atlantic, but had no name or significance according to my maps. I intended to head toward it so we could stop for the evening and replace the broken mast spar. It was of the utmost importance to get it repaired so that we could resume our normal sailing speed and outmaneuver Thane if—and when—he returned.
By late afternoon, we’d docked as close as possible. The island looked uninhabited but was large enough to sustain life easily. When we disembarked and explored, it didn’t take long to appreciate how lush and resource-filled this island was. Like an oasis in a desert, it boasted fresh springs of clear water and fruit trees in abundance. I encouraged my crew to take their fill and gather as much water and food as we could to replenish our own supply before night fell. We even took some extra timber from the dense forest of trees hiding the other half of the island.
As we worked to repair the mast spar by the light of torches and bonfires, I hummed a shanty to lift the crew’s spirits. It wasn’t long before the rest of them joined in. Clara’s voice carried over the men’s, a shrill note of power in a chorus of brutes. She half-grinned at me from her spot on the deck handing up tools to those of us perched on the mast, hammering the new spar into place and redoing the sail rigging. I had offered to let her climb up and help, but she insisted she was afraid of heights.
When the work was done, I wiped the sweat from my forehead and climbed down the rope webbing back to the deck. After a month of sailing, I figured my crew might appreciate a night on land, even if it was just an empty island with no taverns. I’d been pushing them so hard these recent weeks, desperate to find what I sought as fast as possible. Katrina was my mission. My reason for all of this. But these men were my crew and I owed them some rest.
With their cheers of relief filling the air, the men indulged themselves in our rum reserves and laid out cots to sleep in the sand under the open sky instead of the stuffy belowdecks. Finlay had even managed to capture a wild boar earlier that we roasted and stuffed ourselves with until we were sick. I suppose that redeemed him somewhat for his gambling addiction.
After I’d eaten my fill, I snuck away, longing for a bit of privacy to think. As if I didn’t do enough of that alone in my quarters. But this would be different. This was finally a place without bustling taverns and crowded docks. This was a place I could sit beneath the stars in the sand and just let my mind wander in peace.
“Where ya off to, Cap’n?” Clara’s voice called as she noticed me leaving the group.
“Nowhere in particular,” I uttered over my shoulder. “Don’t concern yourself. I’ll be back.”
I left her behind and wove my way through the tangled trees and lush leaves coating the lower half of the forest. For a moment, it reminded me of the night I led Katrina back to a safe spot on the shore back in Florida. The second night I saw her, and the first night I realized I wanted her. I fought to admit that to myself for so long. I swore to myself it must’ve been the necklace drawing me to her. Why else would I have been thinking of her even through my torment at the bottom of the ocean? Why did she—even when I hardly knew her—feel like the missing piece to my broken soul? Why did it seem as though long before time the stars had destined us to meet on that lonely island shore, much like this one?
All for me to end up back here, captaining a crew as the pirate I swore I’d never be. But maybe that was it? Maybe I was meant to stay here. Maybe it was the only way to truly protect Katrina. Her siren side would only grow stronger, and she needed someone without their own dark side to help her fight off hers. What if I couldn’t?
