"Well, as they say, the jig is up. You probably won't believe me, but I'm sorry we won't be able to continue our conversation. I'd have enjoyed telling you about my life with the merfolk. It's a good story." I lashed out and caught hold of Wendy's wrist before she came to her senses and tried to escape.
"Let go of me now!" Wendy cried out and jerked away, but the child's strength was no match for mine. She twisted like a fish on the line. I didn't want to hurt her, but I dared not loosen my grip. It'd only been a couple minutes since Buzz had showered the girl in pixie dust. Any bruising she suffered was preferable to her escaping back to Pan and certain death.
"I can't do that, love. Can't have you flitting off now, can we?" I surged upright, dragging the girl with me. Finally, Wendy got a clear view of my hook. She turned deathly pale and in a small voice asked, "Captain Hook?"
"The one and only." I tensed, expecting her to make some absurd accusation or repeat some other falsehood she'd been told by Pan. It came as a relief when she spouted a predictable, if pedantic, protest.
Wendy jutted out her pert chin. "You won't get away with this! Peter Pan will come to my rescue. He'll save me!"
"For your sake, pray he fails."
"Wendy, please let me explain," Buzz begged. He floated overhead with his tiny hands clasped together.
"No! I don't want to hear anything you have to say! As far as I'm concerned, you're not my friend any longer!" Wendy turned her face away.
Buzz wailed and shed more tears. His sobbing drowned out the familiar thrum of his wings. A thorn of guilt embedded in my side, even though I had done absolutely nothing to feel bad for. He'd chosen to help me of his own free will. The bite of onus ignited my temper. Anger demanded an outlet. Given the choice between taking it out on a sprite, a child, or grown men, I chose the lesser of three evils.
I faced the Bright Bay tunnel and roared, "Mr. Byron, Mr. Keats! Bring your lazy backsides front and center!"
A distinct delay followed. I began to question the competence of my men and suspected they'd allowed the kelp curtain to close despite my instructions. I took a stride toward the hidden entrance, and it burst open. Byron and Keats rushed out, tripping over each other in their haste.
Bumbling nincompoops.
Their blundering soured my stomach, especially when I considered that I'd chosen these two to accompany me because they had above-average competence.
Keats said, "Sorry, Captain. We—"
"I'm not interested in your excuses, Mr. Keats. Take hold of young Miss Darling's wrist—" I offered Wendy's arm to him.
"Yes, sir!" Keats reached for the girl with ham-handed strength.
"Gently!" I hoisted my hook. In the eerie kelp light, the blue steel gleamed something wicked.
"Yes, sir." Keats faltered, but then proceeded with more care. Custody of the girl transferred to the men. Wendy offered up strenuous remonstrations, but she was bound to wear herself out soon.
"Escort Miss Darling back to the dinghy. I'll catch up with you."
Chapter 17
Unlikely Compassion—Chief of Faerie Engineering
I stood in the entrance to Pearl Grotto, holding open the kelp curtains, and watched their departure. Common sense said I should abandon any thought of lingering and leave immediately. An inconvenient bout of scruples, however, anchored me there. Gods only know what possessed me—a plague of principles from which I fervently hoped to recover.
"Buzz, I'd like a word with you before I go." I glanced over my shoulder. My cheek smacked something bristly and a black-and-brown blur filled my vision. A cry tore from my throat, and I jerked my face aside, reflexively ducking away from what I mistook for an insect attack.
A heated surge propelled me to fighting readiness. When threatened, my foremost instinct always screamed fight before flight. I raised my hook, but hesitated because I preferred not to skewer myself.
"Don't attack! It's me! Buzz!" The shrieking sprite dove for cover against my throat, probably figuring I wouldn't risk ripping out my own jugular. It was a solid strategy and it worked well... at first.
"Nutmegs! Stop that! It tickles!"
"You tried to kill me!" Buzz ducked beneath my hair and burrowed toward my nape. The unfamiliar sensation of what felt like a huge bug set my skin to crawling, and the overwhelming urge to swat at him—anything to make it stop—grabbed hold of me. I had to smother the impulse.
"Don't be a dunce. If I'd tried to kill you, you'd be dead. Now get out of my hair," I snapped, twitchy and short-tempered.
"I can't! I'm stuck! Help!" He struggled beneath the mass of my braids, which were woven with hundreds of pearl beads.
"I swear, my life is a Greek comedy." My mouth twisted into what might've been a grimace or an ironic grin. Right then, in the grip of conflicted emotions, I wasn't sure exactly what I was feeling.
No, that was a lie. I had disgust aplenty.
"I don't understand! What's Greek?" Buzz's wingbeat had acquired a hornet-like thrum, reminding me of his sharp stinger.
"Hold still while I lift my hair." I gathered my braids, and held them up until the sprite escaped.
He climbed onto my left shoulder and made a great production of brushing himself off. His pixie aura turned beet red, and he demanded, "Why did you do that?"
"Me? So this is my fault, is it? You snuck up on me."
"I never sneak. I buzz everywhere I go." He beat his wings to make his point.
"I'm deaf in my right ear. You could've pounded a drum and I wouldn't have heard you." Not entirely true, but close. I do have some sensitivity remaining on that side. Regardless, it didn't excuse the fact I'd let him catch me unaware. My inattentiveness angered me. Such a lapse at the wrong moment could get me killed.
In typical sprite fashion, Buzz flashed from outrage to contrition in a wink. "Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't know!"
"It's not your fault. You didn't know," I said, grudgingly, "but from now on, approach on my left side."
"Got it." He drooped and turned misery-blue. Buzz was, I suspect, confronting an unenviable insight. He couldn't go home again, not after what he'd done.
A heavy, woeful silence descended.
I wanted to go, but I stayed. No matter how much I wished it, some part of me refused to abandon Buzz. The sprite was so goofy and good-hearted, it offended my swashbuckler sensibilities. But... he had courage in spades, and he'd kept his word, both things I greatly admired. If his people ever learned of his role in Wendy's abduction... it might get him into trouble. I applied a qualifier only because of Tinker Bell's chaotic temperament. The faerie queen could decide to lavish him with praise or send him into exile. It depended on a great many factors, including how happy Tink was to be rid of Wendy and her temperament at the moment of the reveal. There was also a guaranteed consequence... Should Peter Pan ever discover Buzz's betrayal, the repercussions would be cruel and lethal.
Buzz understood all these things, and had helped anyway. He'd chosen self-sacrifice and he'd earned my respect. Out there in the world of pirates, treachery abounded—strength was the law of the sea—and any display of humanity could be interpreted as weakness. Within Pearl Grotto, the only place in all the Neverlands where privacy was guaranteed, I had an opportunity to be something I am not.
Kind.
I tried to speak, but a lump had stuck in my throat, so I cleared it. At the rough sound, Buzz perked up his antenna. Golden sparkles swirled through his navy nimbus.
Ruthlessness becomes me, so I hardened myself. Stony-eyed glare. Flinty voice. Sneering mouth. Anything else would've appeared contrived. "Before I depart, I would like to make you a proposition."
"Yes? What sort of proposition?" Buzz eyed me with mixed hope and mistrust. Good, he'd better question the motives of a benevolent Captain Hook. I would've, too.
"First, I wish to state that thanks to my youthful sojourn with Pan's company, I am familiar with Tinker Clan's mechanical aptitude. I've long admired pixie ingenuity and resourcefulness."
"U
h-huh." He looked askance at me. Can't say I blamed him. It left me thinking that I ought to get to the point.
"I would like to offer you employment as my ship's engineer."
"Is this a mean joke? Like when you compared me to a parrot?"
"I apologize profusely for that. It was uncouth." I bowed, even though the sprite still perched on my shoulder.
"No more parrot jokes?"
"I swear I have no desire for a parrot. Feathers make me sneeze."
He huffed mightily. "Your hat has a feather plume!"
A fierce grin split the sides of my mouth, and I tipped my head in salute, because he'd caught me in the lie fair 'n' square. "Well done!"
Buzz smirked. "Thank you."
"Regardless, I dislike birds—messy things."
The pixie nodded and seemed to accept the excuse. "Don't you already have an engineer?"
"I do, but the woman currently filling the position is barely adequate. Truth be told, she's a bumbling dolt..." Oh, I anticipated epic trouble if what I'd just said ever got back to Cairstine Wright. The Scottish woman had a temperament every bit as fiery as her hair. I made a mental note to have a word with her in private at the first opportunity—a discreet explanation and, more importantly, a lavish bribe should make things right.
"If she's so incompetent, then how is she your chief engineer?" He glowed brighter, suspicion and sorrow receding.
"I'm beset by ineptitude on all sides. It's near impossible to find professionals who wish to be pirates. Mercantile and military vessels offer better rewards for less risk." I spun out the glib lies, turning flax to gold.
Buzz nodded eagerly, lapping it up. "This is a real position? With a rank and a title and a salary?"
"Your position would be that of a third mate. Pirates receive an equal share of the take, not a salary. Officers receive four shares."
He puckered his face, probably from the exertion of performing mental calculations. Ultimately, he shrugged and moved on. "And my title?"
"Chief of Faerie Engineering. Head of the entire department." I crossed mental fingers that I wouldn't have to hire another faerie just so he'd have someone to boss around.
"Chief of Faerie Engineering..." He repeated it himself twice more, and wound up nodding in approval. "I like the sound of that. What would be my duties?"
"Your duties?"
"My duties."
"Well..." My eyes threatened to cross from a lack of ready answers. Oh bother, why couldn't he just accept the offer and be done with it?
"This is a trick! You don't have any duties for me to perform!"
"Untrue! I make a habit of pondering before speaking, especially whilst engaged in a parlay. I'm the captain, and as a member of my crew, you will respect that!"
"Yes, ma'am!" He snapped off a sloppy salute.
"Sir!"
"What?" Buzz screwed up his face. Effervescent bubbles percolated in his aura, and the pressure built till he looked ready to burst.
"When you address me, the proper forms are Captain,' 'sir,' or any combination of those two. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir!" He slapped off another travesty of a salute.
A burst of epiphany showed me the advantage of having this conversation now. It presented an opportunity to cut off future conflict between Buzz and Wright and the rest of the contributing and real members of my crew. As soon as the cruel thought crossed my mind, I winced. Buzz was right to doubt me. My fundamental nature was that of a wolf, vicious and bloodthirsty. Compassion didn't suit me at all, and even the unsettling insight wasn't enough to stop me.
"As Chief of Faerie Engineering, you'll have your own workshop. The dreary duties of ship maintenance will remain with the current, albeit inadequate, chief."
Buzz worked his mouth. "I suppose that's good."
"Good? It's excellent. As Chief of Faerie Engineering, it will be your responsibility to create inventions and devise innovations which will improve our effectiveness at pirating!"
"Oh! Oh! That sounds so exciting!" Buzz hummed with such enthusiasm that he shot straight off my shoulder.
"If you find the terms acceptable, we must shake. Do we have a deal?" I held out my hand and left the decision to him.
With a joyous shout, Buzz bumped off my fingertip. "Deal!"
Chapter 18
Captain Interrupted—Assault from Below
Immediately after our return to Revenge, I gave the order to weigh anchor. From Devil's Rock, we sailed northwest along the island's coastline. The plan called for us to join up with Mr. Starkey at coordinates a few miles north of Crocodile Cove. We had set the time of the appointment at midday, though the skies and sea seemed to have entered into a conspiracy to keep us from our destination. A counter-current and a powerful headwind obstructed our progress. The sun passed its zenith before we reached the halfway mark and we missed our rendezvous.
The tedious ordeal exhausted my patience. I stood vigil on the poop deck while Mr. Mullins handled the helm. Wendy remained all too eager to be rescued. The chit spared no opportunity to assure us that Peter would save her. Listening to her grew tiresome, so I had her escorted to the great cabin. There, Mr. Smee and Mr. Brown were to keep her entertained and under constant supervision. So long as Neverland lay off our port side, I anticipated Pan would mount a raid against us. To that end, the ship maintained a state of battle readiness—gun ports open, artillery prepped. The armory was unlocked; firearms distributed to the crew.
"Does sailing always take this long?" Buzz perched on my left shoulder. For a creature that despised water, the sprite had proven remarkably adaptable regarding his new home aboard a ship. He investigated his new surroundings with relentless curiosity and great enthusiasm.
"The duration of a journey depends as much upon the currents and the wind as the distance covered." I proceeded to explain the basics of how tacking into the wind allowed us to advance.
In the intervening hours, Buzz fielded a barrage of questions, and I did my best to answer. Under normal circumstances, the interrogation would've irritated me to no end. Not training new recruits was one of the many advantages of being captain. For Buzz, however, I made an exception—initially because the distraction helped pass the time. The sprite was clever and savvy—and he learned—as evidenced by his successive inquiries. He challenged my assumptions and forced me to think. Quite unexpectedly, I caught myself enjoying our exchange.
Hours passed.
Finally, the mouth of Crocodile Cove came within sight. I scoured the vista through my spyglass. The skies yawned clear and blue beneath the late afternoon sun, and fat swells rolled across the ocean. Seagulls flew in force, chasing a school of sardines that turned the sea into a silvery, rippling carpet.
"Do you see them?" Buzz asked.
"No." Apprehension ran rampant through me. Where are you, Starkey? Had my first mate encountered difficulties? I'd sent Starkey and three of my people on a mission to a place so dangerous it scared me. If they'd been hurt or killed, I'd never forgive myself.
"If you want, I could fly high and see what I can see..." Buzz made the offer in a high-pitched and hesitant voice. Obviously, the prospect of crossing open water frightened him.
I stirred, seriously tempted to accept his proposal. Sudden insight dawned, and I perceived a plethora of ways Buzz could prove useful. At last, I understood how wrong I'd been to call the sprite deadweight even in the privacy of my own thoughts.
"Captain?" Buzz tugged at the top of my ear.
"No, the wind is blowing at twenty-five knots. If you didn't get knocked from the sky, those gulls would gobble you up." I repositioned the spyglass to scan the horizon again.
"Captain! Miss Darling has escaped!" Mr. Brown staggered on deck. He ground to a halt and bent over at the waist, grasping his sides while he panted for breath.
"How could that tiny chit have gotten away from two grown men?" I roared the question.
Mr. Brown sputtered, "Well—"
"Don't answer. Incompetence bege
ts excuses."
"I'm sorry." Mr. Brown hung his head, and his shame doused the flames of my temper. Even if he'd captured the girl, it was doubtful the frail old man possessed the strength necessary to hold her. Besides which, Virgil's duties were those of a minstrel, not a nanny. Any blame to be placed belonged elsewhere.
"It's not your fault. Where is Mr. Smee?"
"He's alive, but unconscious. The young lady took his pistol and cold cocked him across the back of the head. She stole the keyring and locked me in, but I have my own and so I was able to let myself out..." He patted his vest pocket.
Angry, impatient demands pushed into my mind, and I bit my tongue to stop from interrupting. I wondered why Smee had armed himself in the first place. I didn't wish the bo'sun dead, but any man foolish enough to lose his weapon to an adolescent girl and have it used against him...
He deserved a sound thrashing.
Mr. Brown continued his disjoined story. "Mr. Smee needs tending. I wanted to go straight to Dr. Chopp, but I also knew you had to be alerted. I was torn—"
"You did the right thing, Mr. Brown. None of this is your fault. Go fetch Dr. Chopp to the great cabin." I gripped his arm in reassurance.
"What about Miss Darling?" Mr. Brown lingered, unable to let it go.
"Her escape is an annoyance, but it hardly counts as a disaster. While we're at sea, she has nowhere to go. She can hide, though we will find her eventually."
"Yes, that's a good point. I should have thought of that." Mr. Brown drew a deep breath; his manner was that of an intelligent person made to feel stupid. My sympathy for him increased in leaps and bounds.
Walking unsteadily, he headed off. Problem dealt with, I moved on to the next and got a ship-wide search started for the missing girl.
"So, what's next?" Buzz asked.
Tea topped my list...
Before I formulated a reply, Revenge endured a battering assault from below. Revenge shuddered, all five hundred tons of her. The deck lurched in a sharp jolt completely contrary to the way a vessel should move on the water. The wrongness of it grated across my nerves. I'd spent years living on a ship. I'd kept my footing on rougher seas, ridden out storms that threatened to tear the vessel apart, and nothing in my repertoire had disturbed me half as much as this.
Hook: Dead to Rights (Captain Hook and the Pirates of Neverland Book 1) Page 10