“About bloody time,” I say. I rip the cloth from his hands and use it to wipe the water from my skin. Then I wrap myself in it. So much better. I can actually think clearly.
All I need now is to wait out the rest of the day. Possibly the night, too. I don’t know how long it will take.
Yesterday and this morning have thoroughly exhausted me. I drift in and out of sleep. First I dream of Riden. He’s healthy and well. He tells me again he’s a better shot than I am. We take turns shooting at dummies. In the end, he wins. But this makes me realize this is a dream. In reality, he couldn’t possibly beat me.
Then I dream of my father. He’s demanding the map. Screaming at me from where I rest behind bars, refusing to let me out until I produce it. I search through my clothes, where I know I’ve put the map, but it’s mysteriously not there. He tells me I’ll never see the outside of the cell. The bars start moving closer, crushing my skin.
I gasp out loud. The men on the other side of the bars snort before going back to their dice and drinking.
A few moments later, I slink into blissful sleep once again, thinking about the last song I uttered before being pulled back aboard this ship.
It won’t be long now.
*
I wake to the sound of gunshots. A huge smile stretches across my face.
It’s time.
“All hands on deck!” Draxen shouts from above. My guards all hurry up the stairs, leaving me alone below.
After flipping over the table in my cell, I check the leg for my lockpicks. They’re still here. All that time and Riden couldn’t figure out how I got out of my cell.
The fight above is loud. There’s screaming and grunting. Swinging limbs and clanging metal. Cursing and collapsing.
Eventually, I hear rapid stomping; it’s distinct from the rest of the ongoing battle. Probably because it’s closer. If I had to guess, I’d say someone rolled down the stairs. Shame, that. Probably will hurt like mad the next day if the poor bastard isn’t already dead.
“Captain, you down here?”
“Over here!” I shout back.
Niridia’s face comes into view, followed by two more members of my crew. I could jump for how glad I am to see them.
“Got your beckonings. Wallov came to me the moment he heard you singing,” she says. She looks me up and down. “You can’t be in a good mood. You look terrible.”
I cringe. “Don’t remind me.”
Niridia grins. She’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen, but that’s not why she’s my first mate. We met five years ago, both the daughters of pirates. Niridia’s my senior by one year, but she follows orders and fights nearly as well as I do. With hair the color of the sun and bright blue eyes, she’s a complete contradiction, as anyone who’s seen her fight can attest.
“How’s the situation up top?” I ask.
“Shipshape, Captain,” Niridia says. “Tylon’s men have nearly half of them on their backs already.”
“Tylon’s here?” Venom creeps into my voice.
“Sorry. He caught me leaving. I didn’t tell him where I was going, but he followed.”
“Bloody hell, that man needs to learn to mind his own business.”
“You know how he is.”
Yes, but I’m still going to have a long talk with him when this is all done. Tylon captains one of the ships in my father’s fleet. And lately he’s gotten it into his head that the two of us need to be … involved. A notion my father no doubt persuaded him of. I, however, want nothing to do with the arrogant piss pot.
“Wouldn’t be too harsh on him, Captain. His men helped a few of the girls up top when they were in a tight spot.”
“I’m sure. And how many times did the girls have to assist his idiotic crew?”
“Plenty.”
“I thought so.”
“Shall we go join the fight, then?” Mandsy asks eagerly from where she stands between Niridia and Sorinda.
“Sword?” I ask.
“Here, Captain.” This from Sorinda. The raven-haired girl produces my sword out of seemingly nowhere. Sorinda hides more weapons on her than a spy does secrets.
Ah, my cutlass. One of the first gifts my father ever gave me. I had Sorinda hold on to it for me while I went on my mission. I can see she took good care of it. There’s no one I’d trust more with a weapon than Sorinda.
Seeing them again warms me. Now I want nothing more than to be back on my ship, but first things first.
“Let’s help the boys and girls upstairs, shall we?”
“Aye,” they all respond together.
We trod above deck and engage in the fight. It’s utter chaos. I have only a moment to register friend from foe as I try to remember the faces of all the men from the Night Farer. This would be far easier if Tylon’s men weren’t mixed in with Draxen’s. Instead of simply killing all the men on the ship, I now have to be wary of the pirates who serve under my father in Tylon’s crew. To be fair, a couple of the men are mine. But I know every member of my ship so well, it’d be impossible for me to mistake them for anyone else.
There are people still trying to board the ship, eager to join the battle. Draxen and his men don’t stand a chance, but they’re putting up a fight. Most of them are, anyway. I see Kearan sitting on the deck, drinking, not a care in the world. Not much of a fighter, that one.
I spot Draxen. He’s fighting two of Tylon’s men at once. For a moment, I wish one of them would kill him. Riden can’t blame me for that, and I do so want to see him dead. But I know that no matter by whose hand he falls, Riden will still hurt from the loss. I hate that I keep proving Vordan right. I care about Riden’s pain. I don’t know why, but I do.
Before my eyes, Draxen slays one of Tylon’s men. The other steps back a couple of feet. Then he advances with a new fury. Bad move, that. The poor man’s not thinking clearly. He will only join his friend.
Draxen kills him, too. The pirate falls to the deck as Tylon boards the ship. Seeing a man kill one of your own men is a terrible sight. It helps you pick your targets during a battle. And Tylon races for Draxen immediately.
This needs to stop. Now.
Tylon is an excellent fighter. He’s been pirating a good six years of his life, ever since he was a lad of twelve. Now he’s one of my father’s most trusted men and a good match for any pirate captain. I couldn’t say who would win in a fight.
This makes me unaccountably nervous. I can’t risk Tylon winning, but how would it look if I intervened?
Oh, for stars’ sake!
I race forward, jumping between the two men who are still a good ten feet from each other.
“Alosa,” I hear Tylon say from behind me.
I ignore him for now. “Draxen, you need to stop this. Tell your men to surrender, or more will die.”
Draxen looks at me, his eyes filled with blood lust. Surrendering is the last thing he will consider, even at the cost of the lives of all his men. He advances toward me, determined to end me once and for all.
I’ll just have to knock him out again. But how will it look to everyone else if I don’t kill him?
Suddenly, Draxen’s eyes are no longer on me, and I hear swords drop to the deck.
What the—