Chapter 39

 

Dawn's light found Reena standing at the bow of the ship, boots sturdy against the heaving deck, loose hair fluttering behind her with every blast of the trade winds. She drew a deep breath and gripped the hilt of her cutlass, relishing in the scent of the sea…and something else…a new scent—the sweet scent of freedom. She'd not slept all night, had spent every minute praising her newfound Father, bathing in His love and the light that now lit her soul…in His Spirit that filled her and gave her new life and purpose. She could hardly contain it. She also prayed for Freddy, for her family, and for the events of the day about to begin. Regardless of her new life, she still had to clean up her old mess, and that would be no easy task.

She adjusted the pouch over her shoulder and glanced up at the topmen furling canvas above. They’d sailed all night and finally reached the destination marked on the maps—the location of the island that contained the Fountain of Youth. Though she could see no such island, not even as the predawn light began to push aside the darkness, she knew it was there—hidden away from all but those who solved the final rhyme.

The sun blasted over the horizon, spearing shards of light over the sea, bold and unafraid of the darkness, pushing it back like the tip of a spear forced back an enemy. The pad of footsteps spun her around to see Michael climbing the foredeck ladder, a cup of steaming chocolate in his hand. Taking it from him, she smiled, noting the extra glimmer in his eyes, the knowing look he gave her.

“How do you know?” she asked.

Sunlight glinted off his teeth. “I’m so happy for you, Captain. There's a grand celebration going on in heaven in your honor!” He glanced up at the brightening sky as if he could actually see such a thing.

“There is, is there?” She shook her head at his boyish delusions. “And how would you know such a thing?”

“I prayed for you last night.”

“Thank you.” She sipped her chocolate and longed to speak with him about how he came to his own faith, but sailors popped up from the hatches, and Abraham hailed her from the quarterdeck. She must face the day.

“Let us talk later.” She finished her drink and handed him the cup.

Michael smiled. “You have nothing to fear” was all he said before he scrambled away.

With all sails lowered, the Reckless eased to a slow drift as Reena made her way down the foredeck ladder to the main deck. She had almost reached the quarterdeck ladder when Antoine popped up from the hatch, his two brutes behind him. His face was redder than usual and a bit swollen, but ’twas his eyes that gripped her—narrow and seething like a volcano about to erupt.

Halting, she swallowed her fear and fisted hands at her waist. “Didn’t sleep well?”

“Où sont mes cartes?” He raged toward her, but two of her crew leapt in his path. Abraham flew down the quarterdeck ladder and took a position by her side.

She cocked her head. “I fear my French is lacking, monsieur. Something about maps?”

“You know exactly what I said, Mademoiselle Pirate.” He stepped back from the sailors and pointed a loaded finger at her. “You stole my maps!”

“Me?” She laid a hand on the pouch at her side and felt the bottle within, then shrugged. “What difference does it make? We are already at the location of the island, and surely you remember the rhyme?” She arched a sarcastic brow.

“Bien sûr.” He snarled. “Regardless, I trusted you, and you stole my maps yet again.”

Wind swirled the odor of his lemon pomade beneath her nose, and she gave a tight smile. “I believe ’twas you who stole my maps to begin with.”

“And you who stole the first one from my home!”

“Come now, Antoine,” she returned nonchalantly. “You yourself admitted that we are both pirates.”

He held out his beefy fingers. “Hand them over, and I will forgive you, ma chouette.”

“I neither need nor desire your forgiveness, mon rat.”

He fingered his chin. “Mais you do, mademoiselle. Or you and your brig will be blasted to bits.” His glance took in the frigate drifting off their starboard quarter. “As you said, we are here. Let us put aside our differences, examine the maps, and determine the meaning of the rhyme, non?”

“You mean I will determine the meaning. You haven’t the brains for it.”

He grimaced. “And I will be by your side when you do. Then we will both find the Fount.”

Reena breathed out a sigh. “I fear, monsieur, we will not find the Fount today.” Drawing the pouch forward, she opened it and pulled out the maps, fanning them out before him to give him a good view.

“Sacré bleu!” Antoine reached to pluck them from her hands, but she whisked them away and stepped back. Pulling an empty bottle of rum from her pouch, she stuffed them inside and shoved the cork on top.

“Que fais-tu?” Antoine fingered the butt of his pistol while his men took a stance by his side, hands on the pommels of their swords.

“What am I doing?” she repeated his question. “Why, ’tis all our precious maps, stuffed in this bottle for safekeeping.” A ray of sunlight struck the bottle, revealing the maps for what they were—old parchment covered with naught but scribblings.

Abraham gave her a sideways glance of confusion.

“Bon,” Antoine said. “Give it to me.” Once again, he held out his hand. With the other, he drew his pistol and leveled it at her chest. The chime of Abraham’s sword, along with several others pierced the otherwise peaceful dawn.

“I fear I cannot do that, Antoine. You may shoot me if you wish, but my men will also shoot you and your men.”

The deck canted over a wave as wind flapped loose canvas above.

Confusion twisted Antoine’s expression. “If you do not wish to find the Fount, then why not give me the maps and allow me to do so.”

“Because if I have realized one thing this past month, ’tis that no one as evil as you should live forever in this place.”

Abraham chuckled.

Sweat beaded on Antoine’s forehead as he glanced around, no doubt realizing that he was sorely outnumbered. “I will signal my ship to fire upon you.”

Reena shrugged. “’Tis your choice.” Then gazing up to heaven, she smiled at the puffy clouds floating across a bowl of cerulean blue and did her best to peer beyond to her Father in heaven.

Though she could not see Him, she could sense Him smiling back at her.

Then lowering her gaze, and without a moment’s hesitation, she hurled the bottle into the sea.

The crack of a pistol echoed across the deck. Reena did not move. No doubt her time on earth had come to an end. Everything became muddled and slow. She braced for the bullet to rip through her heart. A bright light blinded her. She blinked and spotted the light flashing across the deck. And then it was gone. She glanced to her left. Only Michael stood by her side. Smoke curled from Antoine's pistol. Where was the pain? She patted her chest, waiting to feel the blood drain from her heart. She felt her head, arms, and looked down at her breeches. No blood appeared.

Antoine tossed his pistol to the deck and rushed to the railing. “Are you mad?”

“Nay, I believe I've finally come to my senses,” she replied curtly.

Abraham smiled.

Whirling about, Antoine glared at her, fire and fury spitting from his face. “Those are not the real maps!”

Reena shrugged. “And yet you saw them with your own eyes.”

He studied her for a moment as if assessing her sanity. “Why would you give up now? When we are so close?”

“I find I have no need to live forever in this place.” She smiled.

He stared back at the bottle, bobbing in the waves. “But the rhyme. I don’t remember it all.”

“And I have forgotten it as well.” Reena gave a sarcastic sigh.

Growling, Antoine snapped his fingers at his men, then leapt onto the bulwarks and jumped into the water. A mighty splash sounded, and Reena, along with Abraham and Michael darted to the railing to watch.

His two buffoons rushed to follow their master, hesitating only to cast her a smoldering glance before they jumped in after him.

Antoine swam toward the bottle, which had drifted a good distance away, kicking and splashing up a hailstorm of foam. His men didn’t fare as well as they floundered in the water, merely trying to stay afloat.

Reena laughed harder than she had in a long while. Abraham and Michael joined her as her crew cheered and assembled at the railing to watch.

“I do believe Sedley should join them, don’t you think?” She winked at Abraham, and smiling, he turned to issue the order.

Within minutes, the traitorous scamp appeared on deck, blinking from the bright sun and trembling in fear.

The sailor dragged him to the railing to stand before Reena.

“Since you prefer Antoine’s command over mine, Sedley, you may join him.”

Sedley’s eyes darted to the three men thrashing in the water below and gulped. “Please, Cap’n. I swears I’ll change.”

“I pray you do, Sedley. But for now, off with you.” She gestured toward Abraham, and he picked Sedley up by the belt and tossed him into the sea. Arms flailing, the man struck hard, disappeared beneath the water, but finally surfaced.

“Cap’n!” one of her crew gestured toward Antoine’s frigate.

Gun ports flew open, and the charred muzzles of ten guns bid them welcome.

“Time to go! Lay aloft, topmen!” Reena spun on her heels, took the quarterdeck ladder in two leaps, and moved to her command position. In truth, she doubted the frigate would dare to fire her guns and risk hitting their captain swimming so close.

“Do yuh think he’ll get it?” Abraham called up from the main deck as the crew scrambled aloft to unfurl sail.

“Nay.” Shielding her eyes from the sun, she glanced toward the bottle, sparkling in the rising sun. “’Tis too far by now. And it will eventually sink to the bottom of the sea where it belongs.”

Nodding, Abraham turned to issue further orders. “Man de royal halliards an’ sheets. Haul taut!”

Michael tugged on her sleeve, drawing her gaze. “I must leave you now.”

Reena stared at him. “What? Why would you say that?”

The thunderous flap of canvas filled her ears.

“My work is done.” He smiled and reached for her. She took his hand in hers, small and blistered from hard work. But then the boy grew, taller and taller, filling out in bone and muscle. His hand stretched within hers until it consumed her feminine fingers. She blinked. Was the rum still affecting her vision? But still, he grew, stopping when he towered at least two feet above her. She could hardly breathe. What? A light, brighter than any she’d seen, drew a circle around him, so bright she could no longer make out his face. The last thing she saw was a gleaming sword sheathed at his side…

Then he disappeared.

Reena glanced over the main deck, the foredeck, and then behind her where Fletcher stood at the tiller. But he was looking down, paying no attention.

Fighting back tears, she stared into the sky. You sent him to protect me. All this time…Even when I was at my worst, You loved me.

“Heave! Heave!” her linesmen shouted, drawing Reena’s attention back to the deck. She hadn’t time to ponder what had just happened. Swiping the moisture from her eyes, she studied the frigate, her guns still aimed at the Reckless. Soon sails caught the wind in a roaring snap, and the brig jerked forward and sped on her way.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Cannons exploded, and she turned to see their shots splash into the sea off the Reckless’ stern.

Extending her hand in a flourish, she offered the frigate a sardonic bow as more sails glutted with wind and the Reckless swept out of their range.

“Where to, Cap’n?” Fletcher said from the tiller.

Gathering herself, she put hands on her waist and faced forward. “Jamaica. We have an island to protect.”