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“And what if he’s not very welcoming?” Katrina leaned on the rail leading down the steps of the cockpit, her voice sly.
I released the wheel from my grasp, turning to face her. I placed both my hands on her shoulders and locked eyes with her. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you don’t trust me,” I said lowly with a grin.
Katrina glanced down, her eyes falling to the space between our feet. “It’s not that,” She muttered, “I trust you. I’m just…it’s just that…what if this doesn’t work?”
I pulled in a breath, prepping my answer to keep from saying something sarcastic. “Well…I can’t promise you that it will. And you’re right that Bastian may or may not be a bit of a dick to deal with. But between the four of us, I think we stand a pretty good chance. Especially when one of us can control water and technically minds.”
Katrina shifted uncomfortably at that last part. I knew she didn’t like to embrace her power, but if we were going to do this, she needed to loosen up about using her siren song. Her mom was excellent practice, and for that, I was glad she’d shown up unannounced. Katrina would have to realize sooner or later it was our best shot.
“All I’m saying is, we’ll figure it out, love.” I pulled my hands back, but not before patting her on the cheek softly.
“I know we will,” she said. “It’s just that I’m still not over what happened with Cordelia.” She glanced down at her hands, as though disgusted by them. “And I just hope I never have to do it again.”
I nodded in understanding. “Fair enough, lass. I felt the same way after the first time I had to cut down a man—one of my father’s hostages he picked up after looting a ship. He made me do it as a rite of passage. I was sick to my stomach, but I got over it.” I knew that she’d kill again if she had to if it would bring Milo back. I had no doubt of it. Because we were strangely alike in some twisted way. And if it meant there was even the smallest chance I could find Serena again, I would kill without a second thought. So why wouldn’t she do the same?
As Katrina turned away, I asked her if she could bring me something to snack on from the kitchen. As I waited for her to return, I refocused on the horizon in front of me. The ship’s white bow nosing through the open blue, I couldn’t help but wonder how Milo fared, stuck back in 1720. I thought back to how I saw him that day, after he realized he’d been left behind. He was feral; unhinged, and even still 300 years later I could vividly hear his screams of rage as he stabbed that enemy captain again and again and again. I’d never seen a man so broken. Except, I guess, when I’d been that man, too. When my father killed Serena…
I kicked the memory out of my head. I had to stop thinking. About everything. About anything. About Milo, Katrina, and even Serena. Every thought somehow redirected to her and what I’d lost. And I was beginning to feel like I might not have room for all of it at once.
8
Sailors and Swindlers
Milo
The chatter of the tavern nearly drowned out my own thoughts. But not enough. I’d just wanted one night unshackled from the weight in my mind. One night without bloodshed at the hands of my crew. One night to be free of the obligation of caring. But I couldn’t seem to get drunk enough to escape the mental marathon my mind never seemed to stop running, replaying over and over each time I’d dashed my cutlass across another man’s throat. There were too many to count.
“One more round, mate.” I tapped my ale mug on the counter. I couldn’t wait around in this cesspool forever. He had to show up sooner or later. But time was the one thing I didn’t like wasting. Not that my men seemed to mind. Tossing themselves at the rum and women, they would’ve been content to spend the whole of summer here. But I wasn’t here for reveling and indulgence.
As I brought the freshly filled mug to my lips, I felt the coarse bristle of stubble that I hadn’t bothered to groom in the months I’d been sailing these god-forsaken seas. Ten months building the trust of a crew I’d gained through force and fear. Ten months plundering ships and killing those that fought back. All leading to this moment to find a myth of a man who may not even have what I was looking for.
The cloaked figure in the corner may have assumed I didn’t notice him, but I’d been watching him all night. If not for the small stature I might’ve thought he was the one I was looking for, but I knew Bastian better than that. He was a formidable figure with notable height. At least, that’s what he looked like by the time I met him some years later in Valdez’s crew the first time around. But that hadn’t happened yet.
“Aye, you’d best cough up what you owe, ya cockless bastard!” A voice grated like cement across my ears, above all the noise and music. I turned to see the commotion.
“I’ll not pay ye a cent more, you swindlin’ dog!” I was ashamed to admit I knew that voice right away. I decided not to interfere. I’d leave Finlay to sort this one out on his own…again.
“Me? The swindling dog?” A man across the table from Finlay roared. “It’s ye who keep coming to gamble without the means to take a loss!” He stood up, fists raised. “Looks like I’ll be needing to teach ye what happens when you cheat one too many times at my table!”
I rolled my eyes. The last thing I needed was my men involved in some brawl that could mark us bad for business. I stood up, taking reluctant heavy steps to the gamblers’ table.
“What’s all this?” I asked, my gaze falling on Finlay.
“Cap’n,” he stuttered, “He’s lying. I ain’t cheatin’ here. He’s the one trying to swindle me right from under our arses.”
“Doesn’t matter. You know all too well gambling’s against the code. Especially when you’re using the crew’s funds to dig you out of the trouble you keep finding yourself in.” I said sternly, looking over at the man in question. “What does he owe you?”
“Seventeen reales,” he spat.
With a groan, I admonished Finlay. “If this happens again, I’m leaving you at the next port in whatever plight you find yourself.” I had half the mind to leave him here in this pit in Madagascar. He wouldn’t last a week on his own.
I reached into my concealed coin purse, noticing the cloaked figure still observing me as I counted out the amount. I slammed the money down in front of the man. “Here’s what you want. Now find someone else to join your wagers.”
The man scooped the money into his dirty hands. Looking up at me through bushy brows, spat on the floor in my direction.
“Is there a problem, lad?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Who you calling lad? You look far younger than me. And you’re in my way.” He did his best to bulk up and meet me at eye level. I stood aside to let him pass, refusing to say another word to him. He was too drunk to reason with, and I didn’t want to waste my time. But just as he started to walk past me, he instead whipped around towards a nervous Finlay and sucker punched him across the cheek so hard that Finlay fell off his stool.
