Page 66 of Maggie and the Pirate’s Son

“With what wind?”

“Which direction would the Whale be now?”

Dutch pointed to port, as Bash would have expected. At least his instinctual sense of direction remained intact.

“What did you see?” Dutch muttered, and Bash realized he was frowning.

He handed Dutch his spyglass and indicated the starboard side, where he’d spotted the ship a moment ago. Now it was Dutch’s turn to frown.

“Could be anything,” the quartermaster said, handing back the glass.

“Aye,” Bash agreed uncertainly. “Could be.”

“You think it’s him? The navy man?”

“When’s the last time we saw him?” Bash asked struggling to remember. “Sixteen—eighteen months ago?”

They might all joke that the captain was a madman with a persecution complex, but he’d come by it honestly, after twenty years of cat and mouse with Constantin. “There were pigeons on that boat. You ever known Walsh to fuck about with pigeons?”

Dutch shook his head and looked through the glass again.

“Navy uses pigeons.”

Dutch didn’t comment.

“Does he know?” Bash asked, glancing over his shoulder towards the captain’s quarters.

“It’s a speck on the horizon, son. There’s nothing to know.”

But Bash could sense trouble in his tingling scalp. “Tack the sails to port,” he said. If there was any wind to be found, they’d better do it.

“We need to talk about your cabin boy,” Dutch said.

Bash’s gut twisted. Had he figured out what transpired moments after their last conversation, before everything went to hell?

“Saved my life,” Bash said.

“May have at that. Were you ever going to come clean?”

“ ’Bout what?” Bash asked, squinting out at that speck in the middle of the ocean.

Dutch huffed. “You’re a terrible liar, son. I’m almost impressed you made it this long.”

“I don’t know what you⁠—”

“You got sloppy. She got even sloppier,” the quartermaster whispered, confirming Bash’s fear, and his mouth went dry. “How the hell did you think you could pull off such a stupid stunt?”

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Well it was quick thinking, I’ll give you that.”

“How—?” Bash began, but Dutch cut him off with a look.

“Aside from that?” Bash asked, rolling his eyes.

“A million broken pieces eventually make a whole.”

“Do you think anyone else knows?”