by LJ Andrews
“I suggest when ye be so bold as to talk out of turn lass, ye come with something more than impertinent questions. I be the captain and if I deem someone on board not be followin’ me rules I can toss them whenever I see fit,” he snarled, turning away from her.
Nova bit the inside of her cheek until the copper taste of blood coated her tongue. “But what about my ruling on his fate?” she said. The truth was clear. Smythe would do as he wanted despite so-called pirate law.
Flipping around, Smythe glared at her furiously. “Do ye want to join him, Miss?”
Nova stiffened and shook her head. The captain nodded stiffly and began walking away again. Biting her lip, Nova risked speaking once again, keeping her purpose in clear sight. “Wait, sir, please” –Smythe ignored her⸺ “please, sir I need help finding Captain Phoenix.”
The words rolled out of her mouth before she could stop them. Her hand covered her lips, as if it would prevent any other secrets from spilling out.
Smythe stopped and looked over his shoulder. “What did ye say?”
Nova’s eyes jumped wildly left and right before rushing closer to the captain. She bent her head low and whispered “I need help finding Captain Phoenix. I think he may know my father, and be able to help me find him.”
Smythe stood still for a long moment; Nova wondered if she should speak, but his tense stance kept her quiet. He appeared upset by the mention of the legendary captain, and Nova’s curiosity spurred to life. She imagined pirate battles with the great Captain Phoenix forcing dark Captain Smythe into retreat.
After what seemed like forever, Smythe stroked the raven’s beak once more and stepped away from her. “Ye best get back to work, or I’ll throw you in the brig for annoyin’ me with your insolence.”
Nova stood in stunned silence as he walked away. Smythe seemed to know something he wasn’t giving up. Nova vowed to get to the bottom of the mystery that followed every time the name Phoenix was mentioned.
Chapter 11
The Mutiny
Later in the evening, Nova punched a lumpy, straw-stuffed pillow until it plumped like a scratchy cloud. She pulled the messenger bag from her shoulder and shoved it underneath the padding, making sure no one would try to steal it from her in the night.
She glared at the boisterous crew settling in for the night. Men stood around their smelly hammocks rubbing the day’s sweat from their sun-burned faces with tattered rags. A group of her mates walked past; some ignored her completely, but a pirate with jutting shoulder blades and pallid skin pulled tight over his joints glared at her as he twirled a hand-rolled cigarette in his mouth. The plump man following him reminded Nova of the purple pear Atlas had given her aboard the prison ship, from his small head and wide stomach and hips to the violet complexion staining his cheeks as if he were holding his breath.
He paused briefly as his companion joined the ruckus in the center of the sleeping quarters. Nova met his blue eyes with false confidence. They transformed from wide, bright orbs to narrow, snake-like slits. Before he walked away, he kicked a pile of dust, causing her to gag and choke as it filled her lungs.
After they’d left, she fingered the dagger tucked under her shirt and tried to push away the dark thoughts filling her mind of the purple-faced pirate.
“Hey, there you are.” Atlas smiled and sat next to her, catching several scathing looks from the other crew. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Chipper let you off finally?” she said, her mood brightening each moment he was next to her.
Atlas smirked. “Actually, Smythe took the helm. He seemed particularly interested in a certain course, though not entirely interested in telling us where we were headed.”
She smiled, though something in the bottom of her stomach pulled at her curiosity. After a short pause, she caught Atlas watching her through the dark, so she nudged his arm with her shoulder. “Well, I’m glad you came to talk to me.”
Atlas met her eye shyly. “So, you like me hangin’ around?”
Nova watched him stitch his fingers together, and then nervously unravel them one by one. Her heart pounded so hard she feared he might hear it as she reached out and placed her hand on his.
“You’re all I have that’s…safe I guess,” she said, hoping she wasn’t misreading Atlas’s signals.
He sucked in a breath and nodded before taking her hand completely in his. “You are safe with me, Nova. I’ll back you until you earn these scurvy dogs’ respect.” He pointed to the snoring pirates, ignoring the huddled group of men still awake and shooting daggers in their direction. “And even after you have it, I’ll still back you.”
Nova bit her lip, suddenly feeling like a nervous child. From the corner of her eye, she saw Atlas lean toward her and slowly she faced him. In one energizing moment, his lips brushed hers and his strong hand pulled her face closer.
The moment of passion was over much sooner than she would’ve liked. Atlas lowered his hand and smiled sheepishly at his lap.
“Well, you sleep well, miss,” he said, tipping an imaginary hat as he stood. He turned to leave, but whirled around with a small cutlass in his hands. “I almost forgot. I brought this for you to use instead of…your dagger. I thought it would draw less attention to you.”
Nova took the old blade from his open palms as a wave of gratitude overcame her. She’d been concerned about using the dagger again because of its mysterious abilities.
“Thank you, Atlas,” she said sincerely.
He smiled and turned away, jogging past the group of angry crewmen. Nova heard one man hiss after him “you’ll doom us all,” but nothing they said could crush the swelling of her heart.
She flopped back on the scratchy make-shift bed, breathing out a sigh of elation. Soon, however, her attention was jolted alert by the whispers of her crewmates still huddled in the corner. The words were clear and she wondered, staring at the other sleeping pirates, how anyone could sleep through their hissing voices.
“Smythe thinks he can drag us into the Below by keeping the female aboard. Well, he has another thing comin’,” one broad man with a square, clean-shaven chin snarled.
“We should just kill the girl; she be nothin’. The cap’n will forget in a day’s time.” The speaker had white scraggly hair that didn’t start growing until halfway back on his scalp. He caressed his patchy beard with the silver blade of a small knife as if the sensation aroused his sinister desires.
“Aye,” said the broad pirate. “Come, boys. We’ll slice her throat while she sleeps.”
Stinging adrenaline surged through her body as their steps plodded toward the back of the deck. Without thought, Nova slid silently toward the row of sleeping pirates hanging in their hammocks.
Moonlight sparkled off the bright surface like diamonds across the sky. But as if the sky desired to conceal her, clouds brushed past the white orb, throwing the sleeping quarters into darkness.
Nova pressed her back against the wall, disappearing into the shadows. She clutched the cutlass Atlas had given her against her stomach as they kicked the scratchy blanket off her small pillow.
“Where is she?” the leader hissed. “She was just here.” Apprehension flashed across his face as his eyes darted around the deck, never seeing her crouched in the shadows.
Don’t open it, she thought, watching one of the pirates pick up the messenger bag. They examined it briefly, but tossed it aside, to her relief.
“She’s gone, Luther,” the man ogling over his blade whispered. “Just the sort of thing a witch would do.”
“We still needs to toss her over.” It was Magnus, with his small shirt splitting from the pressure of his rotund belly. “Let’s find ‘er.”
“Nay, it seems Jonesy may have been right,” Luther said. “She could be a sky witch and could curse us all. I says we get the cap’n and make him pay for puttin’ us all at risk with the she-devil.”
“Aye,” Magnus agreed. “But Luther, what’s to say she won’t still get us?”
&
nbsp; “Once we get rid of Smythe, we’ll find ‘er and spill ‘er blood, but until then we’re losin’ time sittin’ here plannin’,” Luther answered anxiously.
“Yer, logic isn’t sound. We can’t sneak up on the cap’n. He’ll see us from mile away,” a smaller man said with a squeaky voice. Luther pounded a fist on top of his skull, silencing his protests.
“An’ who asked you? Would ye rather stay aboard with the witch and a spineless captain, Toggs? I say we move now while Smythe be distracted at the helm.”
“Aye, Luther, and we have the large part of the crew behind us, they just be waitin’ on main deck,” the scraggly haired man said, drawing his dry tongue along his blade like a lover.
The pirates agreed and Luther led the mutinous group up the wooden stairs to the main deck.
Nova’s heart was racing. She couldn’t let them take out Smythe, and not just to save her own neck. He was her ticket to Phoenix even if he was resisting her presently. She had hope that with time, Smythe would help her find the legendary captain.
Once she was sure they’d left, Nova slunk through the quarters as if she was weightless. Her steps never made a sound, and her body seemed concealed like a shadowed phantom until she made her way to the upper deck.
The lanterns were flickering along the deck, and each iron cage cast eerie shadows along the greasy wood as Nova followed the menacing voices. Quickly, she ducked behind large crates and held her breath, watching her shadow bleed onto the deck because of a lantern to the side of her. But to her relief, the pirates trudged right past her with no hint of acknowledgement to her obvious shadow.
Smythe was against the helm, checking his compass as the men stealthily made their way toward the steps, ready to overtake their captain.
Nova pulled out the cutlass to chase after them. Her eyes widened, and the blue night seemed to brighten with odd clarity. The stars shone more brightly, creating greater strength of light from the lantern flames. An undetected path to Smythe opened up in her mind, and with agility she’d never known she had, Nova made her way silently toward the helm.
The crates concealed her along the side of the ship, and when she came to the final box, Nova slid under the stairs leading to the quarterdeck and helm without thought, just as the pirates were tip-toeing up the first step. She sat beneath them, watching their boots take cautious steps. Their muddy boots were inches from her nose as she watched through the spaces in the wooden steps.
Taking in her surroundings in a slow yet blazing instant, she rolled on her side to the doorframe of the captain’s quarters without a sound. The men were on the second step. Smythe still had no idea they were coming.
Nova planned her next move; at the top of the thick doorframe was a ledge she could hold onto if she jumped. As if her legs were made of springs, she leapt from her crouched position and grasped onto the wooden ledge. As soon as her hands had a grip, she curled her legs into her chest like a closing flower bud and rested on top of the ledge, only feet below the captain at the helm. Nova lay still on her stomach, hidden in part by the design of the quarterdeck. The helm jutted out far enough Smythe couldn’t see her over the wheel.
Nova held her breath and listened. Her ears caught every sound: the haggard breathing of the men, the whistle of the breeze filling the sails above, and Smythe clicking his tongue as if considering a different route.
The men hadn’t seen her swift, silent jump and now they bent low on the fourth step. One more, and they would have Smythe at the mercy of their blades.
Nova lifted her head and watched. Each sense took on an extra energy as the buried strength built with each breath she took. Her ears were attentive and perked at each groan of the large ship. But more importantly, Nova’s eyes began to see more clearly and noticed every insignificant detail: Toggs’ nervous tick of his index finger over his pistol’s trigger, Luther’s pulse throbbing in his thick neck as his heart rate increased. A pirate with a needle-thin mustache licked his lips incessantly as if he were starving and the taste of his own skin soothed the angry pit in his stomach.
Her mind whirled around the strangeness of her pointed eyesight; all around her, time seemed to slow to a steady crawl though her mind was sharp and speeding like a thrashing river. Pushing her concern about her developing abilities aside, Nova lifted herself to a crouch up on her toes and balls of her feet, preparing for action.
Above her, on the final step, Luther raised his sword, Toggs pointed his shaky pistol, and the pirate obsessed with his lips snarled as he lifted his knife. Other mutineers prepared for the fight to come by unhinging their own weapons.
It’s time, she thought to herself.
With another springing leap, Nova pounced from the upper ledge of the doorframe onto the railing surrounding the helm. She wobbled for only a moment as she caught her balance on the thin rail.
Smythe snarled and backed away in surprise at her sudden appearance, but Nova jumped to the quarterdeck, holding out her cutlass toward the oncoming mutiny.
“Step away,” she shouted to the crew. “Or you’ll wish you had.”
Smythe saw his crew and their raised weapons. His eyes widened in surprise and bounced quickly between Nova and the mutineers. After a brief pause of shock, Smythe’s face darkened and he blasted his prepared pistol into the attackers. The man who licked his knife below deck fell dead at their feet.
Smythe stomped one foot hard onto the deck as if sending a signal, before lifting his own impressive blade and rushing into battle. Nova sliced her sword, narrowly missing the shoulder of a ratty looking man with no teeth. He sneered at her and returned the gesture. Nova blocked his sword and while their blades were locked, she kicked one of her boots into his stomach, causing him to fall back over the railing and onto the main deck.
Suddenly, rushing boots and clanging metal spilled onto the deck as part of the elite crew rushed to assist their captain. The elite were made up of helmsmen and the first and second mates. The rest, she suspected, were the more dangerous pirates who gave Smythe the biggest return from their plunders—they frightened her most. Atlas had been welcomed to the smaller, more favored crew and now slept on the gun deck. They all were still in hammocks, but without the filth as the lower sleeping quarters. Nova saw Atlas run out holding his sword at the ready as she battled a dark man with two gold rings in his ears.
The elite crew surrounded the mutineers and cornered them on the stairs between the two decks. Smythe stepped onto the railing so all could see.
“Ye, dare go against your captain! Ye break the law of pirates and the Star’s Vengeance, and all will pay the price!”
“You keep a sky witch aboard, Cap’n,” Luther screamed out above Smythe’s tirade. “The Vengeance already broke pirate law by allowing that wench on its decks.”
Smythe slashed his blade through Luther’s heart and snarled wildly with his nose against his shocked face.
“Ye will never tell me how to captain my ship,” he whispered and ripped his blade from Luther’s body. Luther crumpled in a bloody heap and Smythe faced the rest of the mutineers. “Anyone else wishin’ to speak?”
The group was silent, not that it would’ve mattered; their fate was sealed.
“Master Kane,” Smythe shouted to the main deck. The fearsome and enormous man glanced up, a wicked smile playing on his lips. “Take these traitorous dogs to the brig.”
The elite pirates encircled their crew mates and roughly directed them down to the brig. Nova sheathed her cutlass in the make-shift belt she’d made from a string of fabric and began walking down the steps from the quarterdeck.
“Not so fast, missy,” Smythe said. Nervously, Nova turned on her heel and faced her captain. “I consider myself to be a level-headed pirate—always on guard, always noticin’ things about me. But tonight I didn’t see ye at all, not until ye were flashin’ that pathetic weapon at them traitors. Now, I’m thinkin’ to myself, how did this skinny wench do that?’ So, how would ye answer my question?”
Nova s
wallowed the hard lump building up in her throat and wiped the clammy sweat from her palms on her pants. Made up excuses and ideas filled her mind, because if she were truly honest with herself she had no explanation.
“Sir, I…suppose I have just learned to be quick and silent. My father taught me to be a strong woman in a world of men.”
Smythe smiled and clapped his hands. “No wonder ye be lookin’ for him. Well, Miss Nova, your lessons may be payin’ off. Follow me, lass, there’s somethin’ I want to show ye.” Smythe led the way down the steps toward his cabin, before turning around and watching her with a sense of awe. “I think ye may be the pirate I’ve been lookin’ for.”
Chapter 12
The Djinn Temple
Smythe’s cabin was muggy from the tropical air they were sailing through. Parchment, star charts, and wine were stacked on top of a long wooden desk built into the wall. A fruity smell mixed with the mouthwatering scent of browned butter made Nova’s stomach rumble loudly. She passed by the pewter food tray and saw the half-eaten roll with a hefty slice of berry-filled pie on a fine china plate. Envy painted her features and it didn’t go unnoticed.
“Wine, Miss Nova?” Smythe asked, holding up a silver chalice and smiling as if he held something she’d wanted for years.
Nova shook her head, feeling uncomfortable being alone with the captain. Smythe smiled as he gulped the red drink, staining his already black teeth even more.
Taking his place in the tall wooden chair near his desk, Smythe swirled his wine around and studied her for a tense, long while. Finally, when Nova feared she may break from the terse silence, he shoved a yellowed, torn sheet of parchment across the desk.
The writings were strange, but she recognized the drawing of Launi Kingdom and one word written in an uncharted corner of the parchment: Dia.
“What have ye heard about Mount Dia?” he asked.