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“I want to fight with the crew in six years’ time.” Her voice changes slightly, as though she’s trying for a more adult tone. She could never mask the chirp of a six-year-old girl, but it’s something adorable watching her try.
I raise a brow at her, achieving what I hope is a slightly stern look.
She bites the inside of her cheek, but waits to twist the key.
I look behind her at Wallov, who is trying to keep from laughing.
“Seven,” I say.
“Done,” she says, flicking her wrist. An excited smile nearly splits her face in half.
A gunshot explodes through the mostly quiet brig. Every head turns toward the entrance where Tylon has appeared, a furious scowl spread across his face.
A cloud of smoke overtakes his features for a moment.
My eyes drift down to where he has his pistol extended in front of him.
I follow its line of progress to where Roslyn stands.
Blood spurts wildly from her head.
And she falls.
A wailing scream fills the sudden quiet. I think I might be the source, but I realize a moment later it’s Wallov.
My eyes rivet to Tylon, and I say the only words that make sense when the impossible lies before me. “You’re mine.”
“No, he isn’t.” Wallov has the door to his cell open before anyone else can move. He launches himself at Tylon, who was only halfway through unsheathing his sword. More pirates barge into the brig behind Tylon. The girls start billowing out of the unlocked cell, following Wallov’s lead.
My eyes return to my fallen crewman. To little Roslyn, who hasn’t moved since she fell. Despite the yelling and grunting, I can’t focus on anything else.
Eventually I find my voice. “Toss the keys!”
I don’t know who I’m speaking to. I don’t know if anyone can hear me through the cacophony of battle cries.
But someone must have, because the keys clank against one of the bars to my cell and slide to the floor. I snatch them up and maneuver around to unlock my own cell. Before I can fit the key in, one of Tylon’s men whips his cutlass at me. I pull both arms and keys back through the bars just in time, and the sword clangs against the metal, sending sparks to the ground. He eyes me, daring me to make a move, content to stand there until I get close enough for him to reach.
A sword point rips through the front of his stomach. A labored sigh escapes him as he stares down at the metal. Sorinda doesn’t wait for him to drop before yanking her cutlass back through his gut and moving on to the next target.
A new sense of urgency overtakes me as a pool of blood forms near Roslyn.
I unlock my cell, toss the keys to Riden, and run to her, but Mandsy reaches her first, ripping off a section of her trousers to staunch the bleeding.
But I know how hard it is to survive a head wound. And for one so small.
Trembling fingers reach for her pulse.
It’s still there. How is it still there?
“It skimmed her head, Captain,” Mandsy says. “Knocked her out. There’s a lot of blood, but I could see her skull intact underneath. If I can just get the bleeding under control—”
“Do what you can. I’m going after Tylon.”
I throw myself into the fray, tossing enemy pirates around like they’re rocks. I have metal bars at my disposal, so I ram heads into them in my search for Tylon. I finally catch sight of Wallov through the chaos. He’s got Tylon by the shoulders, and he slams his head into the ground over and over. I don’t know how long Tylon has been dead, but Wallov doesn’t seem to notice anything at all.
I rush to him and pin his arms to his sides.
“Wallov, she’s alive. Calm down.”
