by PT Hylton
Dustin’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“Come on—I’ve seen the way you look at her. It’s been obvious ever since you snuck her aboard The Foggy Day. You’re smitten.”
It took Dustin a moment to even figure out who Roy was referring to. “Abbey? No, we’re just friends.”
Roy chuckled. “Call it what you will. If you can’t see the wave as it’s about to crash on your head, that’s none of my business. I’m just saying that every man has his own reasons for the decisions he makes, and I’m not going to question them. I respect you too much.”
Dustin tried to push Roy’s comments about Abbey aside. For all he knew, the captain was using this as a negotiation tactic. A way to get Dustin to leave The Foggy Day.
In truth, as much as he wanted to stay aboard The Foggy Day and be with his friends—and friends was all they were—he knew where his responsibilities lay. He could do more good for the fleet aboard Thunderclap.
“The Foggy Day is going on a week-long cruise starting in a few days,” Dustin said. “I don’t want to leave them with no Storm Caller. I’ll sail with them on that voyage, then I’ll officially rejoin Thunderclap.”
Captain Roy smiled. “Good. I’m glad you’ve made your decision.”
After Roy left Dustin sat at his table for a long time, wondering if it had been the right one.
CHAPTER THREE
The sun was just beginning to set over the water as Abbey and her three friends approached The Drunken Bear, the tavern that would serve as the location for that year’s Dibs.
Gideon walked next to Abbey. “I must say, I’m honored to have been selected for this important task. We haven’t known each other long, and it means a lot that you selected me.”
“Uh, no problem,” Abbey said.
Elliot let out a laugh. “You want to tell him, or should I?”
“Tell me what?” There was concern in Gideon’s voice now.
Abbey hesitated, but only for a moment. He deserved to know. “I didn’t pick you. Captain Syd did.”
Gideon let out a contemplative grumble. “I thought this whole thing was the first mate’s responsibility.”
“It is. I just asked her for a little advice. She had a pretty solid record at the Dibs during her time as first mate. Captains aren’t allowed to attend, but she was happy to help me strategize.”
“And what’s her strategy?” Fannar asked.
Elliot chuckled. “Let’s just say it’s not a coincidence that Abbey’s crew consists of a Stone Shaper, a Barskall warrior, and a stormship sailor who was missing for fifteen years.”
“Hmm,” Gideon grunted. “Aren’t we risking intimidating potential recruits?”
“The recruits have no say in where they end up,” Abbey pointed out. “The goal is to intimidate the other first mates.”
Elliot chuckled. “After taking out Captain Tor and Dahlia, I would think you could handle the intimidation thing yourself.”
Abbey shrugged. “Every little bit helps.” She gave him a quick wink.
Fannar nudged Gideon. “Why do I get the feeling this is going to turn into a date between Elliot and Abbey?”
Abbey shrugged. “Hey, we’ll see where the evening takes us.”
“This is not a date,” Elliot said. “When I take you on a date, you’ll know it.”
They reached the tavern, and as soon as the door opened, Abbey heard the boisterous sounds of laughter, insults, and barked threats. She liked this place already.
The crew went inside, walking across an open area on the sawdust-covered floor to the far side of the room. On their left, first mates and their crews were gathered. This was the loud side; stormship sailors jockeyed for position and hurled jabs—all verbal for now.
The right side of the room was dead silent. A group of close to one hundred young men and women stood gathered, all of them trying to look tough, but most clearly petrified. These were the recruits, the young people who wanted to become stormship sailors. With the shortages caused by the purging of the Storm Raiders from their ranks, every one of these people would likely get a position. The events of tonight would determine which ship they’d work on.
It was a big night. Placement on a prestigious ship like Thunderclap or Wave Break would mean an immediate bump in social status for both the sailor and his or her family. At the same time, placement on one of the lower-rung ships would put a sailor on a course for a low-wage, dead-end career.
Potential Storm Callers had the Testing. For those who wanted to be stormship sailors, it was all about the Dibs.
“This brings back memories,” Elliot muttered. “I was petrified the day of my Dibs. I couldn’t believe it when Randall selected me for Thunderclap. It felt like I’d won the best prize at the biggest festival imaginable. I thought I’d be on the ship the rest of my life.”
“Instead you came to Gren to be a hair in my ale,” Gideon interjected.
Elliot grimaced. “It wasn’t exactly my choice. You know that, right?”
Abbey did her best to ignore them. Even though they were on the same side now, there was still some tension between the former leader of the Tall Grass Raiders and the man who’d spent a year hunting them. That was another reason Syd had suggested they both be included in Abbey’s crew. If they were both going to serve on The Foggy Day, they needed to get along.
But for now, Abbey didn’t want to deal with their issues. She needed to concentrate. The Foggy Day would gain a handful of new sailors that evening, and it was up to her to ensure they were the right ones.
Elliot gave Gideon one last look, then turned to Abbey. “How about you? Were you nervous at your Dibs?”
“I never had one.”
His eyebrows raised in surprise. “How the hell did you manage that?”
Abbey grinned. “I snuck aboard the ship.”
“And they didn’t throw you off when they found you?”
“Nope. They gave me a job.”
Elliot shook his head. “You’ve got to be the luckiest person in Holdgate.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it. It’s my charming personality.” With that, she led them to an empty table among the other first mates.
On glancing around, she didn’t recognize many of her competitors. One thing was immediately clear, though—she was the youngest first mate in the group. The majority looked to be in their forties. She suddenly realized she’d never given proper consideration to how quickly she’d risen through the ranks. Most sailors worked for decades to gain the position she’d achieved in a couple months. Maybe Elliot was right about her luck.
On the other hand, it wasn’t as if she’d gotten the position for no reason. It had come only after she’d killed Captain Tor, led a secret mission to the Barskall stormcalling school, and helped defeat Dahlia’s armada.
She spotted one face she recognized. The man met her gaze, and she gave him a friendly nod which he quickly returned.
Clemens.
She wasn’t angry about him returning to his post on Thunderclap. It only made sense for him to do so. She’d grown to respect the man during their travels to Barskall and Gren, and he’d proved himself fiercely loyal. And yet, tonight he was her competition. He wouldn’t be calling her “boss” like he used to, that much was certain.
The ceremony began with the first mates drawing numbers to determine the order of their selections. Abbey got the number three.
When Elliot saw the number, he grinned. “See? Lucky.”
Abbey couldn’t argue. There were fifteen ships represented, so being third was excellent.
She gazed at the recruits again, remembering Syd’s advice.
“Most will go for the biggest and the strongest,” the captain had told her. “That’s not the smart way to play it. Let them wear themselves out fighting for dibs on those sailors. Instead, look into the recruits’ eyes. Find one with a fire burning there. You’ll know it when you see it. That’s the recruit you want.”
The first m
ate from Wave Break had drawn first position, and just as Syd had predicted, he picked the biggest recruit, a young man who had taken off his shirt to display his impressive muscles.
After the choice had been made, the first mate of Sea Harvest called, “Dibs!” challenging the claim.
The two first mates moved to the open area near the front of the tavern. A young man Abbey assumed was the barkeep handed them a thick oak staff, and each man grabbed it with both hands. The barkeep called, “Go!” and the struggle began.
It lasted just under two minutes. After a series of kicks, headbutts, and profanity-laden insults, the first mate of Wave Break managed to wrench the staff away from the other man, thus securing his claim to the recruit.
A cheer went up among the first mates. The first selection was officially confirmed.
The second selection was challenged as well, but this time the man who called “Dibs” won the staff, thus stealing the recruit for his own ship. Abbey didn’t watch the fight that time. Instead, she watched the recruits, looking for the fire Syd had mentioned.
Then it was Abbey’s turn.
“You.” She pointed to a skinny young man with only a few whiskers on his chin.
A surprised silence fell over the tavern.
Fannar gave her a skeptical look, but he said nothing.
The young man didn’t look strong or even all that confident, but she’d seen that fire in his eyes.
A long silence hung over the room, and it seemed no one was going to challenge Abbey’s pick. It wasn’t exactly surprising. Who else would want that skinny kid?
“Dibs!”
All eyes turned toward the man who had spoken. It was Clemens.
His crew looked shocked, but Clemens just smiled.
“I know Abbey,” he said. “If she wants that scrawny whelp, he’s worth having.”
The barkeep motioned them over, and Abbey and Clemens locked eyes as they prepared for combat.
***
The barkeep held out the staff, and Abbey and Clemens each grabbed it with both hands.
“Any questions before we start?” the barkeep asked.
“I get this staff away from him using any means necessary, right?” Abbey asked. “Then the kid joins my crew?”
“Any means that don’t involve interference from anyone else,” the barkeep clarified.
Clemens hesitated. “What’re the rules on magic?”
The barkeep didn’t respond for a moment. “Did you say magic?”
Abbey grinned. “Don’t worry, Clemens, I won’t use magic. I beat you last time we fought without using it.”
“That may be, but this is different. I’ll never doubt your skill with a sword or your fists, but this here’s about strength. And there I have you beat.”
Abbey had to admit he had a point. He was stronger than her. Not that she couldn’t even the odds a little with magic...but she’d promised to play this straight.
The barkeep kept one hand on the staff. When he removed it, the fight would begin. Abbey looked at the man and realized she’d never seen him before. Not that she was a regular at The Drunken Bear, but she’d been here a few times since she’d become a stormship sailor. It was the largest tavern in Holdgate, and it catered to the sailor crowd. That brought in everyone else, since stormship sailors were heroes in Holdgate.
The barkeep had a decidedly un-Holdgate look to him. For one thing, he wore his long jet-black hair tied back. Holdgate men tended to let theirs fall free. His facial hair was nothing more than a bit of stubble, another rarity among men in this city.
He turned and saw her looking at him. An immediate smile sprang onto his face, and he gave her a quick wink.
Before she even had time to blush, he shouted, “Go!” and took his hand off the staff.
No sooner had the barkeep released it than Clemens pulled hard. In that moment, Abbey almost lost her grip. It wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t been distracted by the barkeep.
Somehow, through sheer force of will, she managed to keep her grip. If she hadn’t known Clemens was stronger than her before, she certainly knew it now. She’d have to be smart about this.
The next time he pulled she went with it, pushing the staff toward him and angling it slightly. The staff careened against his jaw with the force of his pull and her push, and he grunted with pain. She quickly twisted the staff, but he managed to hang on.
The first mates and crews around them were cheering and calling insults at them now. Some were chastising Clemens for not being able to take the staff away from a woman, and others were chastising Abbey for not being able to get it away from a loud-mouthed simpleton like Clemens.
Clemens tried to take the staff with brute force next, but she wasn’t going to make it that easy. She tightened her grip but allowed her arms to go limp, so they went with every twist he made.
Abbey drove her head into Clemens’ nose, and the headbutt landed with a satisfying crack. A sympathetic groan came from the crowd as blood began to flow from the man’s nose.
“You just had to call Dibs on my pick, didn’t you?” Abbey’s voice came out sounding strained. “I have a feeling you’re going to regret that decision when you wake up tomorrow morning.”
Clemens grinned at her, revealing bloodstained teeth. “Are you kidding? I’m having the time of my life. This is already the best Dibs in years.”
Abbey allowed herself a moment to marvel at how truly odd the people of Holdgate were. And how much like them she was. She was enjoying the hell out of this, too.
Suddenly, the door to the tavern flew open and a man dashed inside. He sounded out of breath as he spoke. “It’s the Barskall! Holdgate is under attack.”
The tavern fell silent. In the distance, Abbey could hear the ringing of the watchmen’s bells.
For a long moment, no one moved. It was as if, even in this tavern full of first mates, they were all waiting for someone to tell them what to do.
If that was the case, Abbey was happy to oblige. “Get your asses moving! To the walls!”
At the sound of her voice the sailors seemed to wake to the seriousness of the situation, and they scrambled toward the door.
Abbey realized both she and Clemens were still holding onto the staff. “Let’s put this on pause for the moment.”
He grinned through the blood once again. “That’s not how this works. First one to let go loses.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Even after everything they’d been through, Clemens still cared more about this stupid contest than an attack on the city? “Didn’t you hear him? The Barskall are attacking.”
“I know. And I also know you. You care about helping Holdgate more than you care about any of this bullshit. Unlike me—this is my life.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Which is why you deserve to win.”
Abbey’s eyes widened. “What?”
Clemens let go of the staff and turned to the young man they’d been fighting over. “Enjoy your time on The Foggy Day. She might not seem like much, but she’s got one hell of a crew.”
With that, he turned and marched out the door.
Abbey stared at the staff in her hand for a moment before tossing it to the barkeep, who nimbly grabbed it out of the air.
Her hand went to the sword at her side. The Barskall were finally attacking. It was time to fight.
CHAPTER FOUR
Abbey started toward the door of the tavern, but then she paused. The recruits were still standing on the right side of the room. Every one of them had a sword or a spear, and yet, there they stood.
She turned on her heel and glared at them. “What do you think you’re doing? Our city’s under attack!”
They all stared back at her, but no one answered.
Finally the skinny man, the one she’d fought Clemens over, told her, “They said that if we moved or spoke before we were selected and our first mate gave us leave to join our crew, we’d be disqualified.”
Abbey stared back at him
, flabbergasted. “Are you kidding me? Don’t you think a Barskall army attacking Holdgate might override that statement?”
“They said we couldn’t move no matter what, ma’am,” he replied.
She marched over and stood in front of the recruits. “I don’t know what they told you before I got here, and frankly I don’t much care. But I’ll tell you this—anyone who isn’t out that door and sprinting toward the Barskall army in the next thirty seconds, not only will you never work on the stormship, I’ll do my best to make sure you can’t even get a job shoveling horseshit!”
The recruits stared at her, wide-eyed.
She took a deep breath. “Anyone who is willing to fight, I’ll lead you. And if defending your city isn’t enough to motivate you, I’ll point out that you can prove a hell of a lot more to the first mates in a real battle than you can by standing around in this room watching them wrestle over a wooden staff. Now let’s move.”
She turned and marched to the door without waiting to see if they’d follow.
Every one of them did.
Fannar, Gideon, and Elliot were waiting for them outside the tavern.
“Is this a real attack, or could it be some sort of drill?” Gideon asked.
Fannar clapped him on the shoulder. “My friend, you’ll soon learn that the people of Holdgate aren’t big on practicing. They are too busy living for the moment.”
As the recruits filed out, Abbey grabbed the skinny young man by the arm. “What’s your name?”
“Dag, ma’am.”
“Pleased to meet you, Dag. I’m Abbey.”
“I know. I was in the militia when we fought Captain Tor.”
“Excellent. You’re part of my crew now, so that means I need to see if you can fight. Stick close to me, understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. And Dag?” She flashed him a smile. “Welcome to the crew of The Foggy Day.” Then she turned to the other recruits. “All right, everybody. Rule number one is, ‘Keep up.’ If we miss the fight because I had to wait for your sorry asses, I will not be pleased.”