by Dawn Cook
“I think so,” I said, worried. Arms clasped around myself, I held my breath when Duncan handed his sack to another and jogged back to us. My pulse increased as he halted beside us, breathing hard and bringing the smell of burned oil with him.
“The knot holding the bow light slipped,” he said by way of greeting, eyes red and tearing. “It hit the deck and shattered. It’s the oil that’s burning, not the deck.”
“Thank goodness,” Contessa whispered.
“We’ll have it out in a moment,” he said, turning to watch the flames. His hands were on his hips, and the light reflected off him. He didn’t seem at all worried, and my shoulders eased.
A twang reverberated up through my feet, and I hesitated, wondering what had happened. The wind pushing me shifted, and the island began to move. Eyes wide, I looked to Duncan.
“We’re adrift!” someone shouted faintly, sounding panicked. “We lost anchor!”
“Chu pits,” Duncan breathed. He tensed, clearly not knowing what to do.
“We’re drifting?” Contessa clutched my arm, and I nodded, thinking it odd the rope would have burned through. It was nearly as thick as my wrist.
Alex gave her elbow a squeeze and jogged to the bow and Jeck, his boots unheard over the turmoil. Duncan bolted after him.
“Haron!” Captain Borlett shouted. “Get to the wheel! Raise sail. Keep us off that reef!”
“Sir!” the spare man exclaimed. I pulled Contessa out of the way when Haron thumped across the deck, pushing past us to get to the wheel. He threw off the loop holding the wheel unmoving and spun it. Orders came nonstop from him at a bellow. I could do nothing but stare as half the men abandoned the fire, scrambling to lines. Tied to the wall of the galley, my horses pulled at their tethers, the scent of fire instilling fear as the men grew frantic.
Gray blossomed in the dark night when sheets rose up masts. The wind coming off the island billowed into them, and the boat’s motion changed.
“No!” came a faint shout from the bow. “Not the fore jib! You’ll catch her afire! You bloody fools! Drop the fore jib!”
Gasping, I spun to the bow. The shadow of sail had risen halfway up the front forestay. Orange firelight reflected off it, showing men battling the fire. “Watch out!” someone shouted. “She’s caught!”
A frightening whoosh of sound sent Contessa and me staggering back. Orange fire raced up the front sail. My mouth dropped open.
“Cut her loose!” someone screamed. “For the love of God, cut her loose!”
I stood, shocked. The wind pushed the flames back, filling the sail like a visible wind. In an instant, the entire sail was aflame. Haron spun the wheel. The deck leveled out as he turned us into the wind, and the sails emptied. Noise beat at me. Empty sails clashed against each other. Men shouted for buckets, their fear of fire putting an ugly, high sound into their voices. Captain Jeck was trying to cut the heavy salt-laden rope and free the sail.
Frightened, I pulled Contessa to the stern. Her eyes were riveted to the fire, and she was trembling. My eyes went to the ships surrounding us. Both warships were working to get their dinghies in the water. It was too late for them to reach us otherwise since I was sure we were already over the reef. The tide was well out, and the depth was too shallow apart from the pocket of deeper water near the shore that we had been resting in until the morning’s high tide.
I pulled Contessa out of the way when a smoke-marked, thin sailor ran to us. “It’s Alex,” she protested, pushing my hand off her.
“I don’t think they can stop it,” he said as he came to a breathless halt, his youthful face grim and marked with soot to stand out harsh and shocking against his fair skin and hair. “Captain Jeck wants her in a dinghy as soon as one gets here. I agree with him.”
Contessa clutched at me. “No!” she exclaimed, terror making her eyes wide. “I can’t! Tess, I can’t get in the water again. I won’t!”
My eyes searched the crowded, frenzied deck. Everyone was trying to put out the fire or cut the sail free without getting burned. Haron had abandoned the wheel, his place taken by another. The front jib was again on the deck, the fire climbing the ropes even as the men tried to put the heavy canvas out. The flames had jumped to the first mainsail’s lines and were creeping down to the crumpled sail. We were still drifting, the tide and the wind pushing us out over the shoals and farther from help.
“Careful!” I cried, reaching for Contessa when the Sandpiper shifted out from behind the lee of the island and the first of the storm-driven waves hit us. Cold spray from nowhere shocked through me, soaking me in an instant. Contessa shrieked when the deck dipped, and the horses whinnied, terrified.
Alex and I steadied Contessa, the dark and the moving deck making everything a confused chaos. I cowered when the deck swooped and another spray of water took us.
A sharp whistle drew my attention, and hope made my pulse pound. Captain Rylan’s ship, Kelly’s Sapphire, was headed our way, her booms swinging even as I watched, filling her sails with wind. Captain Rylan was standing at the railing of the Sandpiper, the slight man gesturing and bellowing out orders over the distance. His smaller vessel had a shallow draft. It could reach us where the warships couldn’t.
“Come on, Contessa,” I said, pulling her to the railing.
“Alex!” she cried, resisting. “Alex?”
“It’s all right,” he soothed, calm and smiling. “I’ll help you make the jump.”
“Jump?” she warbled, her face going terrified.
In a smooth motion, the merchant vessel sailed alongside of us, coming in so the wind would push her away and not into us.
“Hooks!” Mr. Smitty shouted, and I stood amazed when three or four clawed hooks were tossed in near unison. They hit the deck and were pulled in tight. The rolling deck lurched, and I staggered as the two vessels started to move as one.
“Point her into the wind!” Mr. Smitty shouted at the man at the wheel on Captain Rylan’s ship. “Are you daft? You want that she swamps and takes us down with her?”
My pulse quickened. The Sandpiper was going down?
Alex had heard the rough man as well, his eyes meeting mine behind Contessa suddenly carrying a deep concern tempered with resolve.
“Here!” Captain Rylan called from the railing, with Mr. Smitty, gesturing. I started forward with Alex and Contessa, slipping on the wet deck though Mr. Smitty climbed the rail of the Sandpiper and jumped to his brightly lit ship as if it was nothing. Another wave came over the side, and Contessa fell, taking me down with her. The hard deck of the ship smacked into my hip, bruising me. My horses called again, and I looked at them from around my blowing hair.
“I can’t do that—” Contessa said, looking lost under Alex’s coat, her eyes on the railing. Alex pulled her up, and I rose without help, looking between her and my horses. “I can’t do that!” she said again, her voice high and panicked.
“Grapples tight!” Mr. Smitty shouted over the wind and the noise of rattling sails and calling crewmen trying to put out the fire. “Hands stay to release and come about!”
“I can’t do that!” Contessa cried, clearly panicking as we dragged her forward.
“Come on, Contessa,” I coaxed, angry and frustrated. I pulled her to Captain Rylan. Crewmen had swarmed aboard in a motion so quick, it took me by surprise, securing lines and making the two vessels rise and fall as nearly one. “They’re closer. See?” I said, eying the rough-looking men. “And I’ll be with you. It’s either this or a dinghy.”
“But if I fall, I’ll be crushed between them!”
Another wave hit us, chilling me and sending my feet slipping. “I won’t let you fall,” I promised. “Contessa! Please!”
Her frantic expression in the reflected firelight eased, and she nodded. Her emotion was short-lived as a thunderous boom reverberated up through my spine, shaking me. Contessa screamed, and the Sandpiper groaned. I thought I heard wood splintering. My eyes went to the dark masts. Something had hit us.
/> “What was that?” I exclaimed, and Duncan staggered across the deck, his eyes wide.
“We hit bottom,” he said. “Hold on. We’re likely to—”
We hit again. This time, I felt the sudden cessation of motion as the Sandpiper descended upon a wave, halting in a jarring motion that sent the sailors shouting and Contessa to clutch at me. It was the most frightening sensation I’d ever felt. My horses nickered in fear. We lifted off the reef as a wave rolled under us. I held my breath for the next hit, but it never came.
“Jy!” I called, my sore hip now the farthest thing from my mind. I glanced at Alex, then my horses. “Get Contessa off the boat,” I said. “I have to get my horses.”
“No!” Contessa said, gripping my arm. “Tess, I can’t do it without you!”
I stood frozen as Captain Rylan gestured brusquely. Alex’s eyes pleaded with me, and from the bow came Jeck’s angry shout, “Get them off the boat, Tess! Before we break apart!”
“My horses!” I shouted back, not liking the fear in my voice.
We hit bottom again, and Contessa made a muffled scream, clutching me.
“Your chu-ridden horses will be fine!” Jeck turned from the fire long enough to gesture angrily at me. “Get the royals off the boat before she tears apart on the reef!”
Duncan pulled at me, his eyes bright from reflected firelight. “Come on, Tess. I’ll help.”
I nodded. Taking Contessa’s elbow to keep her upright, Alex and I got her to the railing. Her smooth-soled boots were almost useless. Captain Rylan was waiting, impatient and curt.
“Jump,” he said, pulling her roughly from me and lifting her to the railing.
She panicked, screaming and twisting until she fell. Captain Rylan cursed, bending to pull her upright. The bells on his boots rang, almost unheard over the wind and clashing sails.
My face tightened. “Stop it!” I demanded, grabbing his arm and pulling him from her. He spun, shock and anger on him. Alex stepped between us, and I turned to help Contessa up as she was now sobbing. “Here, Contessa,” I said. “Watch me.”
Taking a breath, I gathered my skirts. Duncan’s hand filled mine, and with his help, I got onto the railing. Rough hands reached for me, and I gasped when they yanked me onto the merchant’s deck, yellow with torch and firelight. I fell sprawling, and I spun, pulling the hair from my mouth to see Contessa. Duncan stood over me with his hand extended, having made the jump somewhere between me hitting the deck and getting the hair out of my face.
He pulled me up and I looked at the Sandpiper. “Contessa!” I called, holding my hand out to her. Alex was standing with one leg wrapped around a stay to keep his balance as he helped her up onto the railing. Captain Rylan was holding her other hand from the safety of his deck. She met my eyes, and fixed on them, she stepped forward, lips moving in silent prayer.
Captain Rylan’s men grabbed her, and with no more reverence than they had shown me, pulled her aboard. I reached for her as she shrieked, easing her descent so that she only fell to one knee. Alex was next, making the jump by himself and immediately going to Contessa.
“Contessa!” he called, ignoring everything else. My sister’s head rose, meeting his eyes. My breath caught as she reached for him.
“Free grapples!” Mr. Smitty shouted when Captain Rylan’s feet hit the deck beside me.
Free grapples? What about the crew? What about my horses!
I stood aghast when several crewmen jumped nimbly aboard the Sandpiper. Each had a metal bar to unwedge the grappling hooks. Faster than I could breathe, they ripped the claws from the railing of the Sandpiper and were back aboard. More men pushed the floundering boat away with long poles. It was a well-rehearsed dance that left me shocked and stunned.
“Fill sails!” Mr. Smitty shouted, demanding more authority than he had the entire night.
My heart pounded. What the devil is going on? “Captain Rylan!” I demanded, pulling the short man around to see me. “The Sandpiper is going down. We have to get everyone off!”
The man looked me up and down in a quick motion of disdain. “Get them below,” he said to no one in particular, and two crewmen stepped forward. From behind me, the rattling canvas finally ceased as the ship turned and the sails filled. There was a series of thumps when the canvas filled, the sails landing firmly against ties already in place. The ship began to move, and I shifted to adjust to the new balance.
I looked at the Sandpiper, flames yellow and red at the bow. Men were shouting, beating at the flames spread by the thin film of water that had sprayed aboard. She was going down, one sail burned beyond recognition and the hull being slowly knocked apart as she found the shallower spots of the reef. It struck me like a slap from the dark what had happened.
“We’re being taken,” I whispered, my stomach twisting and panic striking deep into me. They had been lying in wait for us, timing it so the tide would prevent the warships from following, then burning my boat to keep it from following as well.
I brought my eyes up, meeting Alex’s. He saw the knowledge of what had happened in my face, the firelight reflecting off the water in orange and black. His smoke-marked face was empty and his fingers were on his sword hilt. His blue eyes looked hard from his grimed face, and as I watched, his slight build tensed muscle by muscle. He knew it, too. God save us. We were fools. “You take the men on the left,” I whispered. “I’ll take the right.”
Contessa, who knew what I was capable of, took an audible breath, holding it. Alex blinked. He didn’t know I had eight venomous darts in my hair, three throwing knives, and, around my waist disguised as a belt, a bullwhip that would scare a bear.
Three crewmen were approaching, eying Alex’s sword with a casual cautiousness. “Aye, Your Royalship,” one said with a mocking respect. “Come take a wee bit of a walk with us, and I’ll show ya the boat, I will.”
The man with him chuckled. He reached for Alex’s sword arm, and the audacity of someone touching him broke through Alex’s shock. “Stay back, Contessa!” he shouted, pulling his sword in a sound that would forever terrify me.
I retreated to protect Contessa, stumbling when she pulled me to kneel beside her.
Laughing, the three crewmen paused at the sight of the slight, bookish prince with a blade in his hands. They didn’t see his feet in the first position. They didn’t know he had been schooled until there was no fear. They had no clue that the lean muscles under his silk shirt were used to swinging a blade with no effort, and he would react without thinking, his movements instinctive and deadly.
Hunching in anticipation, the surrounding men dropped their hands to their own swords. My stomach clenched, and my hand rose to my topknot as if I was nervous. I plucked several needles, putting one in the dart tube that had bisected my hair like an ornament. The first man to touch Contessa or me would go down.
Duncan fell back to me, grasping my shoulder protectively. From around us came the hooting calls of the crew, most of them turning to watch, apparently eager for some sport.
Mr. Smitty’s rough shout came from the wheel, jerking my attention to the stern. “Get his bloody sword away from him and get them the hell belowdecks!” he demanded. “If they jump the railing, you can by bloody God-well believe you’re going in after them!”
“Shouldn’t take more than a moment, Captain,” a thin, quick-eyed man said, grinning as he came forward, naked blade swinging.
Contessa made a muffled shriek. Looking magnificent, Alex met his strike with his own, twisting to send his blade within inches of the man’s side. The pirate leapt back, surprised. Face going ugly, he lunged forward with a yell.
I brought my hand to my mouth and blew a dart at him. It struck him perfectly in the neck, right where his pulse lay. The man took a huge breath as he raised his arm, faltering when the venom hit him. His eyes went wide, and a strangled gurgle came from him.
Alex swung in the instant his attacker faltered. The thunk of steel into flesh struck horror in me. I had killed that man as su
rely as if I had swung the blade myself.
Choking, the man fell to his knees. Alex unhesitatingly followed him down, frighteningly silent as he ran his blade into the man’s chest, down between the man’s ribs to suffocate him in his own blood. With only a grunt to mark his efforts, the mild-seeming prince killed a man while everyone watched in slack-jawed amazement.
An ugly noise gurgling up, the struck crewman slowly fell to the deck in an awkward sprawl. A dark puddle seeped from under him. Alex gave a final push to his blade. Setting one foot against his downed man, he yanked his sword from him and tossed his hair from his eyes.
“By all that is holy,” Duncan whispered at my elbow, clearly shocked.
He was a prince of Misdev. What did they expect?
With an outraged shout, the surrounding crewmen pulled their blades and started forward.
“Don’t kill ’em!” Captain Rylan shouted from beside Mr. Smitty at the wheel, his courtly accent gone. “You kill ’em, and you get nothing! Hear me? Nothing!”
I didn’t think they cared.
Alex rolled the dying man over and took the pirate’s blade. “Here,” he said grimly, sliding it across the deck to Duncan. The cheat picked it up. He glanced at the length of steel, then shifted his grip tighter, his face drawn and frightened. The two men fell back to surround Contessa and me. Why? I thought. We couldn’t take the ship. We couldn’t save ourselves. But to give up was never a consideration.
“Look out!” Contessa cried, and I spun. Two were coming up from behind us. I downed them with a dart each before Alex or Duncan could kill them. My darts they would survive. Alex’s blade they wouldn’t. Duncan looked to see them fall, then turned with a shout as a man jumped at him.
Two men had attacked Alex simultaneously. The prince was holding his own, fighting silently but for the sound of his feet and blade. Duncan was sadly lacking, being driven back to us.
“Duncan!” I cried when the tip of a sword found him, ripping his shirt.
He sprang back, fingering his shirt, anger pulling his face tight. “I just bought that!” he shouted, following it up with a curse and a furious attack that beat the man back a step.