That infinitesimal moment confused me more than any moment ever had, but before I could understand why, Eliza’s voice called out nearby.
“Graham! Captain needs us!” I saw her running to us. “Is she all right?” she asked Graham, gesturing to me.
“Aye. She’ll recover.” He looked at me. “Will ye be all right with Arthur?”
I nodded. “Of course.” The words were ridiculous, considering the pain that made me want to vomit. It seemed unlikely I would actually beall right.
Graham glanced at Mr. Ashby and nodded once before planting a kiss on my forehead and leaving with Eliza. The intimate gesture startled me, but he left too suddenly for me to say anything about it. Why did I feel like he was my Graham again? When I looked at Mr. Ashby, I suspected he was thinking the same thing. His eyes were on Graham’s retreating figure.
When he met my gaze, he didn’t speak. There seemed to be a deep exhaustion within him as I noted the shadows under his eyes. The blue of his irises was stormy, like his mind was chaos. “Are you uncomfortable?” he asked. “Can I help you readjust?”
I shook my head. “No. How are you?”
An unexpected smile quirked his mouth. “You’re worried about me in your condition?”
“Can’t I be worried?”
He looked down. “Don’t waste your strength on me. Just think about recovering.”
“I almost died. I’ll waste my strength on whatever I want.” After grimacing from a wave of pain, my lips stretched into a miniscule smile at my clever repartee.
“Only you would make light of getting shot.”
“That’s not true at all. I think you would think nothing of a bullet.” I winced. “You’d probably…pull it out yourself on the… battlefield.” I seemed to be losing my breath more quickly than usual. Speaking didn’t used to be so difficult.
He chuckled lightly before saying, “Stop talking and rest.”
But resting would have to be put off. The sounds of clashing swords were coming nearer. Mr. Ashby stood, fully alert. I wondered what he was thinking as he turned toward the wounded who were lying near us. When he turned back to me, I knew. “I think they’re headed straight for us.”
“I thought you might say that,” I groaned.
With nowhere for the other wounded or me to go, Mr. Ashby could only stand protectively between us and the battle that unfolded like a performance before us.
Eliza and Graham were there, with two otherMaelstromcrew members holding off three pirates while Captain Whitmore andCaptain Corsaire were locked in a fierce battle. The two captains were focused only on each other, their swords clanging impressively.
As I watched, Captain Whitmore caught Captain Corsaire on the wrist and he dropped his sword.
Captain Whitmore cackled. “What’s wrong, Jacque? Haven’t you learned how to fight an old man? Pick up your sword. I’ll give you another chance.”
It was a poor choice on his part, for Captain Corsaire didn’t play by the rules. He didn’t just pick up his sword; he slashed at Captain Whitmore without hesitation. His sword appeared to have just sliced open his shirt, leaving a thin trail of blood, but the surprise of it had the captain stumbling back. It interrupted the other fights, and Eliza steadied her captain as he recovered his footing. Soon, he rushed back at Captain Corsaire and their fight continued.
TheMaelstromcrew were winning. Only two pirates and their captain remained standing. Then in the second it took for me to blink, Captain Corsaire was impaled by Captain Whitmore. As he fell to the ground, however, his last action was to stick his sword into Captain Whitmore’s leg.
A cry flew from Captain Whitmore’s lips and he, too, landed on the ground.
Eliza and Graham dispatched the final two pirates and rushed to their captain’s side. The other two crew members seemed to run for help.
Even from my vantage point, I could tell the injury was not insignificant. Captain Whitmore was losing too much blood. Eliza and Graham tried to tie his leg above the injury, but they ended up being covered in blood instead. Mr. Ward came back with the other crew members, but he couldn’t seem to improve the situation, either. He shook his head at Eliza.
Captain Whitmore was fading. Everyone seemed unsure what to do next. Disbelief clutched my gut like the wound inside me. It was a helpless thing, to watch someone die in front of you. There should be a way to help, a way to prevent it. Memories of Tallow came to the surface, and I wished this situation would be different. But Captain Whitmore was slipping away from this world no matter what they did.
He grasped Eliza’s hand and tried to mouth something. His eyes were wide. Did he know he was dying? Eliza cried and pulled his handto her chin. “Please, hold on,” she said. “Please, Captain, just hold on until we can find a way to save you.”
“E-li-za. Take…care…M—maelstr…” He let out a large sigh and his head hit the ground. His hand went slack and Eliza cried loudly, repeating “No!” over and over again.
Graham tried to put his arms around her, but she was hysterical and wouldn’t allow it. He looked as if his whole world were crumbling as he watched Eliza. I wanted to console him, wanted to support him, though I suspected he had no thought of me in that moment. His eyes were for the woman who’d been hurt the most by this loss. The captain had given her a home on theMaelstrom.
Tears stung my eyes as the captain’s death began to sink in. The kind, strange, clever captain who protected and guided theMaelstromwas gone. This man, along with Mrs. Bowers, had brought unlikely people together and made them a family, a team who believed in something bigger than themselves. It took a special kind of person to do that. I wondered what would happen to the mission without him. TheMaelstromhad burned. Did that mean the captain’s legacy was also destroyed?
