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I made my way to the rooftops of the buildings nearby. It was important that I stayed out of sight, but I still needed to be able to watch the harbor and determine my point of entry. As the sun beat down on me, I gazed down at the bustling life below. I hoped that maybe, just maybe, I might be able to spot Katrina or one of the others if they’d made it here, too.
Something caught my attention. A whistle. And then the bark of a dog. I peeked over the edge of the roof I was utilizing as my perch and smiled. It was just as I thought. Me—my young self—with a scrappy brown dog at my heels. Peg. I’d named him Peg for the gimpy leg that did nothing to slow him down. The mutt could still outrun me and any other dog in the village. Father wouldn’t let me “keep” him, but Peg knew he was my dog. He was a stray by definition, but he always found me.
I watched myself and Peg jumping about, playing with an old stick I’d found on the ground. It lasted only briefly, before I knew I had to stop playing about and tend to my father’s work. I remembered that day, like so many others. I was always looking over my shoulder to make sure he didn’t catch me playing with Peg when I was supposed to be patching sails or inspecting the hulls for any spots in need of repair.
The grin on my face faded when the pair walked out of sight. I remembered the dark fate soon approaching that young boy playing with his dog. This boy had already spent so many nights crying over his mother’s death. If only he knew how many more tears would have to fall before he’d harden to it all. Perhaps it was better he didn’t. Let him enjoy this short happiness with Peg.
I waited there until evening came. Unlike the one before, it was a calm night. Ignoring the hunger in my empty stomach, I climbed down once the port became quiet. I pinpointed the Lark with ease. She floated six ships back, with a blood-red flag raised high—a warning that the crew took no prisoners and left no survivors.
When I was certain I had a shot, I climbed down, keeping the path to Carl’s ship I’d mapped out in my head close to the forefront of my mind. I shuffled through the docks, careful to stay hidden, using crates and barrels to hide behind whenever I sensed someone nearby. My boots were silent on the wet wooden boards.
There would be no easy way to reach the boat. I’d have to swim. Drawing a deep breath, I dove in, careful to keep my splash as subtle as possible. I was thankful for the calm waters as I swam toward my target. Once I reached the side of the sloop, I gripped the side of the hull, feeling along the sides for any section I could use to pull myself up. Once I found a hold, I climbed with all my might, fighting the added weight of my soaked clothing and boots.
Once aboard the ship, it was only instinct to look around. In the pale light of the moon, I could make out the barren deck of the boat. There wasn’t much here, which made sense. Carl and his men would’ve returned from a looting expedition or a raid and had probably sold off everything by now, only to come here to recharge and reward themselves for a while. So, I expected this sloop to be empty.
I moved carefully in the darkness, taking a walk down into the galley and belowdecks. Every good sailor should have a tinderbox down here to light the lanterns in case of an emergency. The question was whether Carl was a good sailor.
I scanned the row of barrels along the back wall. Oil barrels. And two rum barrels. Perfect. To my delight, in a large chest by the bottom of the steps, there was a box, complete with flint, a steel striker, and some pieces of dry cloth.
I reached into my satchel and pulled out a bottle of liquor I’d swiped from the tavern. Quickly and quietly as a church mouse, I turned the bottle over and doused the innards of the ship with the pungent liquid, being extra careful to coat the oil barrels. I made a trail, using a small pile of tinder from the tinderbox as the starting point. I didn’t have enough to lead all the way back up to the deck, however. So, I’d have to be fast.
With the trail of alcohol as long as I could manage to make it, I struck the flint against the steel until I saw sparks. With hands I fought to keep from shaking, I tossed the burning piece of tinder down to the pile, where it immediately caught, creating a ball of orange flames as it began to follow the line of alcohol to the oil barrels. I knew I had mere seconds to get out of there.
I rushed to the galley steps, darting up to the deck. My eyes locked onto the edge of the ship as I ran to leap overboard into the water. But there was someone there. On the deck. It wasn’t Carl. But whoever it was, he was young. Older than me, probably, but still young.
“Hey, you!” He cried, holding up a lantern. “What are you doing here?”
“Get off the ship!” I yelled, still running and not slowing down.
With a nagging in my conscience that I couldn’t ignore, I turned to his direction and ran toward him, counting the mere seconds in my head that I knew were left before this boat went up in flames. The old me wouldn’t have saved him. But I had too many regrets now not to.
I leapt forward, pushing the frantic man overboard. He tumbled over into the water below, cursing and screaming on the way down, and I went to jump off, too, but I’d lost one second too many. Bright orange lit up the air behind me. The sound of wood splintering pierced my ears as a flash of light consumed the night. The force threw me into the water, even as I’d already dove into the air, the heat singing the skin on my back even through my thick shirt and hooded vest cloak.
Without looking for the man, I set my sights on the side of the harbor, where the entrance back into Nassau was unkempt, wild routes of nature. A place I could escape to quickly without being recognized. As the ship crackled and lit up the black water with yellow flames, I swam like a devil to shore.
There. It was done. Carl’s infamous sloop was destroyed and the hook-handed man who asked me to do it had better be ready to tell me what business he had with my father. I planned to find him immediately. I didn’t trust him not to try to make a quick escape once he saw that I’d actually gone through with his request.
I heard screaming from the distance. The lights of lanterns became visible, one by one, as people started to notice the ship aflame in the harbor. Though I hoped that man survived, I also hoped he didn’t take note of my features or any part of me that might make me recognizable. Because I knew this town would soon be rioting with chaos and accusations trying to pinpoint the culprit.
No matter right now. I needed to get back to Hook-Hand. I didn’t even know the time. Destroying that ship felt like it had lasted only a mere moment. But my sense of time passing was quite unreliable in this state.
Leaving the blazing port behind me, I fled back toward the city, dodging behind crates and wagons any chance I had. There weren’t many people in my path, but I still did everything I could to keep my dripping wet clothing from leaving a trail in the dirt that had already dried from last night’s storm. As I approached the tavern, I paused at the sight of Carl Thane himself bursting through the door, the look of a madman in his eye. He must’ve just heard the news of his ship’s fate. He looked around, grinding his jaw as he addressed the crewmen in tow behind him.
“If anyone knows the fucker responsible for this, he’d be wise to speak up! Because when I find him, I’ll paint my next ship with his blood after I peel the skin from his bones with my own teeth! And I’ll feed it to whoever stayed silent about it!”
I shook away a shudder along my spine. A threat like that wasn’t far-fetched at all for Thane. He was known to cut off the ears and lips of his enemies or traitors. Or he’d pry off their fingernails with wooden stakes. He was a twisted excuse for a pirate, and every one of us knew it. I’d even dare say he was more demented than Valdez.
I waited in the shadows for him to pass, and once he was out of sight, I quietly slipped into the tavern. It was almost empty. Except for Codface and Hook-Hand, who was leaning up against the wall near the back.
“Everyone’s gone to see the fireworks,” Hook chuckled, stepping forward.
I neared him so that I could speak low enough for Codface not to hear me. I didn’t need anyone involved that didn’t need to be.
“I did what you asked,” I grumbled, keeping my face tucked downward. “Now tell me about your business with Daven.”
“I have to say, I really didn’t think you would—or could—do it.” He grunted a bit before continuing.
“Your underestimation of me is not my problem. Now honor the code and tell me what you promised.” I was growing impatient.
