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Marko didn’t look pleased. Wheeler was revved up.
“What is it?”
“It’s a ship. It looks abandoned.”
He took the binoculars from his second-in-command and checked for himself, then subtly glanced at Nicola when the two weren’t looking. It didn’t surprise him that she was ready, nodding to confirm as she sat on one of the higher poles at the pretense of lounging about.
“I see.”
“Do we approach it?”
Marko hissed at Wheeler’s question, his temper already close to the surface.
“Don’t be dumb,” the second-in-command snapped. “It could be a trap.”
“Changing our course again will set us back from our destination,” Wheeler protested.
“We pass it at a safe distance,” Isaiah announced to stop the brewing argument. “If we don’t get close enough, they can’t spring their trap on us. Marko, ride with the wind.”
Marko moved, and the rest of the crew followed the second-in-command’s bellowed orders. Everyone got in sync as they often did, with cannons dragged from hidden corners and weapons piled and guarded in a corner. He stood by the steering wheel and felt her sidle closer.
“Are we going to war?”
“Are you sure there’s no one there?”
“As sure as my sharp eyesight can see. But Marko’s right. It could be a trap.”
“Nic, come on,” Moon hissed, gesturing wildly. “Help me with the ropes.”
Nicola left his side, and Isaiah dealt with his tension alone. The ship became clearer as they increased their speed, confirming what she reported. But it didn’t ease him, not when abandoned ships were far and few between in their safer paths—and those that were abandoned were instantly taken by the ocean.
He sensed the collective bated breath as they sailed by the ship. He held his breath, tension rising, they were close to successfully passing it, his hands braced.
“Captain!”
The first whistle sound was his only warning before he jerked the wheel to their right and kept it going. He frantically searched the sky, latching on to a glinting object. The metal ball landed on the water, but a second one rolled toward the back of the ship. Wheeler and Arty caught it with a net and heaved as hard as they could, sending it flying back up.
The sky exploded, scattering glittering lights in every direction. More balls whizzed their way, but the rest of the crew got their nets ready and tossed them away as fast as possible. When the attacks stopped, Isaiah took the binoculars to check and found the ship still empty, but with smoke coming from the deck. It also started gaining speed as it tailed them.
“Goddamn it.”
“Is it a ghost ship?” Marko asked, yelling from far away.
“It’s a remote ship. Someone’s controlling it.” And they needed to get away before his crew got tired and could no longer avoid the exploding balls. “Marko!”
“Yes?”
“We go under.”
The second-in-command’s back went ramrod straight, but he nodded without a word. Soon, bellowing hit the deck using code words, and the crew scrambled into new positions. He steered as hard as he could, returning to riding the wind until the ball attack restarted. But there was enough distance to keep them from hitting the ship—for now.
“Call me when there’s new trouble.”
He locked the wheel in place, keeping its momentum, then rushed toward his closet and the piles of boxes until he got to the one needed. He ignored the blinding sparkle and snatched the aquamarine gemstone that fit in the palm of his hand. Three more sat at the bottom of the velvet box, acquired through sweat and blood and reserved for when they needed it next.
Let’s hope not too soon.
Just as he exited his cabin, Marko came bursting through the door.
