Cassandra's Pirate (The Atlantis Series)

by Candace Smith

  “We’re in the Bermuda Triangle,” Addie whispered.

  “Do you think we should try climbing back through the cave?” Cass suggested. Addie remained transfixed, staring at the water. Cass looked towards the rushing water spewing from the rocks. “Shit, I don’t think we can fight the current, and it felt like we went over some kind of waterfall.”

  Addie searched the horizon, almost relieved she did not see another mermaid. Her mind tried to grasp something rational and she stopped looking at the two moons. “We’re sure as hell going to have a problem if we don’t see a boat.”

  The fact they had no food was not lost on either of them. It had been hours since they ate the light breakfast before diving. There was no fresh water either, and no shade. There was a lot of nothing, besides sand and the small cave still gushing water.

  They spent the night on the warm sand, staring at the twin moons lighting up the surface of the water. “There’s another sandbar,” Cass whispered. She sat up and squinted at the white surf in the distance. “It’s about one hundred feet in that direction. Maybe we should try for it in the morning.”

  “I guess so. Maybe we can keep hop-scotching to some kind of land,” Addie answered. She wondered if the Captain had reported them missing and if search parties were being organized. “Maybe we should stay here so they can find us.”

  By morning, both of them considered that any plans involving physical movement had to be handled while they still had strength. Their minds reeled whenever they thought of the mermaids, and if not for the two moons as well, they would have tried to convince themselves they were not real.

  Addie’s thought of rescue somehow did not seem plausible. They both knew they had escaped to a place they would not be found. The swim to the new sandbar was exhausting and they collapsed on the sand. It was smaller than the one they left, but when they turned they saw that the cave and the island were gone. Now, they were stuck in the middle of the sea with no food or water. There was no sign of another stretch of sand.

  They looked through their shells but found nothing to eat. The few closed shells had opened in the hot sun and stank. Cass tied their mesh bags together to make a net, but nothing swam close enough to shore. By the next morning, their throats were too dry to speak and their lips were cracking. They were dying, and by afternoon they were too weak to sit. They lay by the shore with water lapping up to their thighs to cool them.

  Chapter IV

  They had only been gone a month, before returning to the fortress after the battle with the Redemption. The crew’s excited laughter silenced when they saw their island home. Except for ten feet of dock that had been high on the beach when they left, the entire walkway was underwater.

  “Fuck, we’ve lost another twenty foot of beach, Captain.” Harlan thumbed his forehead.

  Vincent stared at the fortress. He refused to align with Romagis and give up his freedom, but he did not have the right to make the decision for his friends. “Anyone wanting to settle will get their fair share of supplies. With what we have stockpiled, it should set you up well and get you a trawler.”

  “I didn’t sign on to be a damn fisherman,” Mudeye replied. “I’m sticking with you, Vincent.”

  Vincent turned and smiled at him. “Tommy, you don’t owe me. You paid me back years ago.”

  Six years after they left Espedene, Tommy was gambling in Shantytown with the crew while Vincent and Pascal sat at the Broken Mast. Something turned south, and Bison stormed in to tell Vincent three thieves had cornered Tommy in an ally. Harlan and Johnny were keeping the rest of the settlers held up in the bar. It was the year of turmoil, when various rogue pirates were being forced to settle in Romagis.

  Vincent showed up, and the last thing Tommy saw with both eyes was the Captain’s cutlass flashing while he plowed through the thieves. There was a fourth man, and Tommy recognized him as a pirate captain they had beaten badly at sea. His dagger sliced across Tommy’s face, blinding him. When he opened his one working eye, Vincent was lifting him and the pirate lay sprawled on the cobblestones with his neck sliced.

  Harlan told him later how Vincent poured his own brandy down Tommy’s throat while he stitched the wound. Vincent joked how his mum made him help darning socks, and how he knew he would find use for the talent someday. He had the men catch a frelan eel and tan the skin to make him a patch. The leather kept a black shine and was soft.

  It was an Espedene officer who first named him Mudeye, when Tommy passed beside him to steal the whiskey after winning a sea battle. “How is my sister?”

  “Sandra is fine, and she sends her regards to both you and your Captain,” the man whispered back. “She won’t be happy to hear of this.” He pointed to the patch.

  “Then maybe you’ll not be telling her,” Tommy suggested.

  “Your sister has a way of making me forget myself,” the man confided with a wink. “Every time I return she asks of you. Hell, I don’t even mind she calls out Vincent’s name when we’re in for a toss, any more. I get the best part of the receiving end of the bargain.”

  “You’re not too bad, for a Royal.” Tommy watched his crew re-boarding the schooner.

  “You’re not too bad for a pirate, Mudeye.”

  Tommy shook his head from the memory. “I cannot repay you for saving my life, nor will I try. It’s the adventure of the sea I want.”

  “Captain, ain’t none of us throwin’ in with the scum on Rogamis. If they don’t hang us, they’ll be wanting us to join against you,” Bison replied.

  “Right then. Figure out a way to dock us and get the supplies stocked on high ground. We need to shove off and find another fucking island before we’re tying up to the damn doors.” Vincent dropped over the side, splashing his way up the dock.

  Pascal began removing his glossy boots and socks. “Wish we hadn’t sent Lady Astier off in the landing skiff,” he muttered.

  “I’ll carry you on my back, Lieutenant,” Johnny chuckled.

  “I haven’t been a damn Lieutenant since I walked off Espedene.” Pascal checked the bottom for sharp objects and slowly lowered over the side. He called after Vincent, “What the hell do you expect to find that hasn’t sunk? We’ve searched every inch of this sea.”

  In the morning, they boarded the schooner and set sail to the west, avoiding Rogamis and Espedene. A disturbing number of sandbars and islands they sailed by a month ago were now slashed through with Xs on the chart.

  “Close the door, Pascal.” Vincent stared at the map. “The seas are rising much faster, and if we don’t find something soon I’m going to convince the crew I’ve made a truce with Rogamis.”

  Pascal poured them each a brandy. “You’ve never lied to them, Vincent.”

  “Nor will I this time. I’ll make a truce and agree to steer clear of the settlement, as long as my men are kept safe.”

  “They’d sail with you, even if it meant never setting foot on land again,” Pascal replied.

  “Aye and what about you? Could you sail without the end in sight?”

  “Vincent, Rogamis is going down as well. I’d rather enjoy brandy with you and cringe at the booming cannons.” Pascal lifted his glass in salute.

  Their drinks were interrupted by a call from the deck. “An island, Captain.”

  Vincent studied the chart, and slammed his brandy. He pointed at a blank expanse of sea on the chart. “Pascal, this sand was not here a month ago.”

  They hurried on deck and Vincent looked up to the crow’s nest. He followed Mudeye’s pointing hand to surf frothing in the distance. “It ain’t big, Captain, but it’s dry.”

  Vincent realized the rest of the crew had noticed the sunken sandbars. “How big is it?”

  Mudeye swept the spyglass over the water and lowered it. He raised it again and said, “’Bout the size of what’s left of the fortress, Captain. There’s something beached on the shore.” Mudeye scrambled down the rigging and handed Vincent the spyglass.

  A few minutes later, Vincent’s jaw t
ensed. “Fuck me. They’re sea witches. Two of ’em.” He turned to the crew. “Fill the sails. Dammit, they’re half-beached and dehydrating.”

  “Is it Sea Witch Island?” Pascal asked, taking the spyglass.

  “I don’t think so, but I’m guessing it’s on the path the witches follow to swim to Espedene.” Vincent walked to the bow. The sea witches had not moved to try to get back into water. “They might be slightly defective, but they can’t be as bad as a one hundred.” There was excitement in his voice. To have his own sea witch, fuck, and one for the crew.

  “Toss the anchor, Harlan.” Vincent jumped over the side and landed waist deep in water.

  Pascal made a ceremony of stripping off his coat and boots, and cringed when salt water soaked his clothes. He followed Vincent and listened as the crew dropped into the sea behind him.

  “Quick men, get ’em into the surf.” Vincent grabbed the ankle of the dark haired witch, aware she had not split to fin with her legs submerged. “This is like the three hundred in Romagis. She couldn’t melt to fin once she dried out.”

  He watched the long hair floating under the surface and waited for her mouth to open and gulp in fluid. Instead, she opened her eyes. Vincent watched the startled green gaze looking up at him. She was weak, but fighting to surface. His eyes traveled to her legs to see if she coated with scales. Instead, his eyes focused through the water on a scrape on her thigh. A scrape… with a dark red thread from… blood. “Fuck me, they’re real! Get them out of the water.”

  In a dream, Cass felt fingers wrap around her leg and drag her into the surf. She was too weak to protest until a strong hand pressed on her chest, forcing her head underwater. She opened her eyes and saw the watery form of a man. A pirate? Cass thought she was dead, until her first gulp of salt water.

  Her eyes closed again, and she felt herself lifted. A hand clapped her back clearing her lungs, and a deep voice spoke over her. The man sounded concerned, but she could not make out his words. She just wanted to sleep, and maybe have a sip of water.

  The next time her eyes opened, she felt strong arms lifting her onto a boat. It was a small schooner that looked very old. She had to be dreaming or delirious, because men passing by her looked like something from a movie. Cass felt herself lowered onto a bed. She wanted to ask about Addie, but she felt herself drift to sleep again.

  “No brandy, Pascal. It will dehydrate them more.” Vincent had the dark haired one resting on his cot, and Pascal watched over the golden haired woman. “Dip a clean rag in fresh water and rest it on her mouth.” He watched the green eyed beauty, hoping he would see her sucking the water from the cloth. After several long minutes, her dry lips began moving.

  “Johnny, fetch the jar of shanker fish salve for their scrapes and lips.”

  “Aye, Captain.” Johnny retrieved the jar and watched the Captain gently coat the woman’s lips. “What’s our course, Captain?”

  “I think it’s best we sail back to the fortress until we figure this mystery.”

  “Aye, Captain. We’ll take care of the deck and let you know if we sight sails.”

  Vincent looked up at him. He had been so distracted with the captivating woman that he had not thought about the chance discovery. “You think it’s a trap?”

  “They had to come from Espedene, but we can’t figure out why they’d be exiled to die.”

  “The frigates never sail this far west. The sorcerers placed a curse on the ships.”

  Johnny thumbed his forehead. “We don’t know, Captain. We’ll keep a look out for sails, just in case.”

  Vincent waited for his cabin door to close, before lifting the blanket covering the woman. He held one long leg and rubbed her shin against his cheek. Closing his eyes and relishing her softness, Vincent remembered the feeling of women from his youth.

  His first sighting of Rogamis thrilled him, until he learned the rumors were false. There was no turning back to the Realm, and Vincent spent years satisfying his urges in quick encounters with sea witches. They were cold, emotionless androids, and his seductive attempts did not elicit the gasping pleasure that used to enthrall him. A large measure of his own passion was derived from the desire he induced from his partner. The mermaids merely looked confused, or worse, expressionless, until Vincent stopped trying.

  Vincent set to work coating her scrapes. “Where did you come from, my beauty? A true gift from the sea, you are.”

  Cass felt hands caressing her, soothing away the burn and salt. Drips of liquid passed between her lips whenever she opened her mouth. At some point, she tasted a thick fish broth, spooned to her while a strong arm held her up. The rocking had stopped and she wondered if she was still on the boat.

  They had been at the fortress for two days when Cass opened her eyes. She was in a small room that resembled the cabin of a ship, and a man sat at a desk with his back to her. “Water,” she rasped. “Please.”

  Vincent swung around. “Thank the seas, you’re awake.” He sat down next to her and poured a glass from the pitcher.

  Cass recognized the arm lifting her, and she remembered the salty masculine scent from her dreams. Damn, he was the most handsome man she had ever seen, even dressed in the costume. Her green eyes smiled at him over the rim of the glass he held, and she watched his eyes soften when he smiled back.

  “Drink slowly, my beauty. Just a few sips or it will come up again.” Vincent barely let the cool water dribble into her mouth.

  Cass nodded, and continued to try to gulp. Her weak arm lifted to tilt the glass.

  “A stubborn one, eh? Well, you’ll not be gettin’ a bellyache on my watch.” He placed the glass back on the end table. “I figure you was out there a couple days when we sighted you.”

  “My friend?” Cass’s voice was hoarse and scratchy.

  “She’s in about the same straits a few cabins over.” Vincent pushed soft strands of hair back from her face. “A few more hours, and you wouldn’t have revived.” He ran a hand down her thigh. “Aye, but you’re a strong one. Are you a Fiver?”

  Cass shivered with the intimate touch and shook her head, watching his hand. If it was not that he was concerned about her well-being, she would think it was a seductive caress. The stroking ignited fires hidden since her early years with Caleb. The man lifted her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. The soft whiskers felt nice.

  Vincent’s eyes lit up with amusement. He could feel her responding to him. “Captain Vincent LeSeure, fiercest rogue pirate in Aquadea.” Alarm filled the green eyes, and he added, “Of course, I’m also the only rogue captain not sold out to Rogamis.” For some reason, this did not calm her.

  “Where the hell am I?” Cass whispered.

  “You’re at my fortress. We couldn’t keep you on ship, and we can’t sail to Espedene or Rogamis with you.”

  Cass closed her eyes again. It was dark when they opened, and the man was stretched beside her. He was softly snoring into her hair with an arm wrapped possessively around her waist. Cass reached for the glass on the table.

  “Thirsty again? You slept through dinner, but I kept a plate set aside for you.” Vincent could tell she was much stronger. He raised the light in the lantern and propped her up on the pillow. She ate, and he watched from his chair at the desk.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Cassandra… um, Cass.” She took another bite of stew. “You’re Vincent?”

  He nodded. “There’s a different air about you, than a Fiver. But, I never seen anything above a Four with your build.” If she was a trap from the Royals, he intended to let her know right off that he was on to her.

  Cass looked around the cabin. Some things looked familiar and newer, but most looked really old. “Are we in the Bermuda Triangle?”

  “We’re at the fortress. We never got around to naming it.”

  Cass’s gaze drew to the cut in the wall that served as a window. “Are there really two moons?”

  “Not ’til next month. It’s already been three nig
hts.” Vincent decided her confusion was due to the time on the beach. She should be more than malleable to gain information from. “Which frigate dropped you on the sandbar?”

  Cass shook her head. “It wasn’t a boat. I mean, we took a sailboat to the island with the caves, but when we got dumped into this part of the sea, we never saw another boat. We spent a night on the island with the rocks, and swam to where you found us the next morning. We were trying to make it someplace with food and water, but even the sandbar we swam from disappeared.” Cass whipped her head towards him. “We saw mermaids.”

  Vincent stood. “Where? On that island you were on?”

  “No, the first one. Shit, do you mean we really did see mermaids? Where the hell am I?”

  The pale shock in her face was too real, and Vincent realized the woman was not pretending to be unaware of her surroundings. He considered her odd apparel, if that was what the two strips of cloth could be called. Somehow, he had not managed to get around to slipping one of his shirts on her.