Warding Song

Life on a ship was never smooth sailing, but some days were better than others. Eleyna woke to a pleasant dawn, when the waves were gentle. She hurried after Fernando out onto the deck. “Bloodied skies in the east, captain,” Marcus reported. Eleyna looked out at the horizon, only to see a beautiful crimson sunrise. Not exactly what she’d describe as‘bloodied’.

“So what if the sunrise is red?” she asked. “I think it’s rather pretty.”

Both men scoffed. “Pretty, she says! This is why you ain’t a sailor, girlie. Every sailor knows that ‘blood-red skies at dawn, of squalls and tempests warn’.There’s a storm brewing, you mark my words,” Marcus promised. Eleyna was rather sceptical. The idea that a scarlet sunrise meant a storm was on the way seemed a bit far-fetched, when the weather was so nice now.

Fernando took this omen seriously, however. “Listen up!” he shouted to the crew. “Dawn’s red, so keep your eyes open for any sign of a storm! We’re too far to make a run for safe harbour out here, but we haven’t lost this ship to one of Tanpèts tantrums yet, and we’re not about to start now!” he yelled. The pirates cheered, waving their free fists in the air. “Now get to work!”

The captain turned to Eleyna. “If and when the storm comes, take shelter in my cabin but do not barricade the door. The last thing you want is to get trapped if we need to abandon ship,” he warned her. “Miguel or I will come and fetch you if we have to get into the lifeboats. Got any questions?”

Eleyna had questions, but the first and only one asked was: “Who’s Tanpèt?”

“The storm lespri,” replied Fernando. “If you want to know more, ask Fabian about it whilst you’re in the galley,” he added when she opened her mouth to inquire what a lespri was. Dismissed, Eleyna sighed and went to do that.

Fabian was gutting mackerel, slicing off fillets with his knife attachment. “Oh, there you are,” he said by way of greeting when he noticed Eleyna, telling her: “Come and salt these fillets.” She went over and started packing the chunks of fish into a barrel of salt, to dry them out so they wouldn’t rot.

“What’s a lespri?” Eleyna asked. “The captain said to ask you.”

“Lespri are spirits. I’m guessing you worship the Triarchy, right?”

“Kinda?” she shrugged. “I never went to church, but I know about the King and the Judge and the Knight. I prayed to the Rogue, though,” she admitted.

“You grew up in a town full of Imps, I won’t hold it against ya. We hold fast to the old ways; we respect the lespri in a way Imperials don’t. The two that matter most are Lanmèa, the sea lespri, and Vanan, the wind lespri.”

Curious, she asked him, “are lespri the gods that the natives believe in?”

“Not gods, spirits,” Fabian corrected. “Gods create things; lespri are those things. Lanmèa is the sea, Vanan is the wind. When they fight they wake Tanpèt, the storm. The red sky means Solèy is angered by their bickering. If we’re lucky, they’ll cool off before that, but I wouldn’t count on it.”

Eleyna heard him singing under his breath; a song she remembered well.

“Oh the queen of the sea may grant us a sky that’s bright and warm.

She began to sing along.

“Oh the queen of the sea into which the Bandye river flows.

“Hang on, lass,” he interrupted. “That ain’t how the next bit goes.”

“It isn’t?” she blinked. “That’s what … those’re the lyrics I was taught.”

“Yeah, well, whoever taught you either made stuff up or didn’t know what they were talking about. This is the next verse.” He started to sing again.

“Oh the queen of the sea may grant us a wind that ever blows.

“Oh the queen of the sea may take pity and let us brave the swells,” Eleyna finished the verse. He raised an eyebrow. She added, “ I know most of the lyrics. Oh the queen of the sea may grant us an ocean that stays calm. Oh the queen of the sea may grant us good waves that do not churn. Oh the queen of the sea may grant us the wit to keep from harm. Oh the queen of the sea may take pity and let us all return!”

“Oh the queen of the sea may grant us the chance to sail away, oh the queen of the sea may grant us the chance to stay alive. Oh the queen of the sea may grant us hope to see one more day. If the queen of the sea won’t take pity then mate, enjoy your dive!”

The ruffed dragons led Trill and her friends to a plateau in the mountains. “You can sleep here,” Sunset told them. Her brown hide and yellow-streaked mane blended in well with the dry, yellowed grass. A couple of fledglings came scampering up to her, and Sunset nuzzled them. “This is our son Dusk Cloud,” she introduced the bigger one, “and his sister Meadow Breeze.”

Meadow Breeze was smaller than her brother. Trill liked her immediately, yet couldn’t help pitying the little one. I hope she grows bigger than I have.

More fledglings, their manes not yet grown, came to investigate the Fire Agates. The young ones pawed at their flanks and begged for stories. “I have one!” Trill chirped. “It’s about the time I saw wingless ones do magic with fire. It was dark.” She mantled her wings to cast them in shadow. “I crept towards their nest” – she crouched as if to prowl – “and hid on a cliff.”

Her audience huddled in a tawny pile. “They didn’t see you?” Breeze whimpered. Tourmalions taught their young to avoid wingless ones; their manes, especially the brightly-coloured ones, were much sought after.

“No. My scales are dark, so I was hidden,” Trill crooned. “Besides, they were too busy to look. I think they were having a mating display,” she mused. The hatchlings recoiled, hissing or spitting in disgust. The adults all chuckled.

“Three of them breathed fire … and the fire floated in the air!” Trill revealed, wishing she could show them. “Then the wingless ones made the flames spin and tumble and swerve around them!” She lashed her tail-tip through the air above their heads, flicking it around to trace out the fire’s erratic path.

The fledglings’ heads swung back and forth, eyes fixed on the swishing appendage. One of them lunged at it; Trill pulled her tail out of the way. The other adults chittered with laughter. She snorted in annoyance before carrying on. “At the end they all breathed fire up at the stars, and I was so excited that I got carried away and did the same. That’s when they saw me.”

They flinched, cringed or yelped. Even some of the full-grown ruffed ones looked alarmed. “Did they attack you?” Sunset asked urgently.

“They looked at me like this” – she let her jaws gape and her eyes bug out – “but I was bigger than them, so I reared up, spread my wings, and roared as loud as I could … they all got scared like cowards and ran away!”

“That was so dangerous,” Chirr-See shuddered. “I still can’t believe you snuck off,” he told her, eyes narrowed; but he sounded a bit impressed, as well.

Rolling her eyes, Trill insisted, “I was fine! You all worry too much. Even I’m much bigger than any wingless ones, they didn’t stand a chance.”

Rainfall growled. “Don’t listen to her,” he warned. “Dusk Cloud, Meadow Breeze, all of you, don’t ever go near those monsters and their weird fire!”

Click-Coo agreed, “You should listen to him. It’s not safe to let wingless ones see us – don’t you remember what happened to Missing Paw?” she asked Trill. “Wingless ones hid a trap and it bit her paw off.” The fledglings gasped.

“Yes, traps are dangerous, but the wingless ones are small and weak!”

The alpha and his mate reappeared, prey-beasts and young in their claws. The hatchlings crowded around the smaller carcass, tearing at it ravenously. Meadow Breeze chattered at her grandsire. “That drakaina told us a good story! She saw wingless ones making magic fire, and scared them away!”

Rolling Wave purred at Meadow Breeze, nudged her towards the prey. He turned his old, deep gaze on Trill and warned, “You shouldn’t underestimate them. Wingless ones have strength in numbers, and they are very clever.”

So am I, thought Trill, but it was rude to boast in front of a higher-ranking dragon. They weren’t that clever, magic fire or not. They made nests out of plants that burned. “With all respect, alpha … I don’t think the wingless ones are that dangerous. We’re much bigger than them, after all.”

“Then how did those newcomers to your nest lose theirs? If wingless ones are so harmless, why were they not scared away?” His words and eyes were piercing as a bite to the spine. Trill had no answer, and Rolling Wave knew it. “A foolish dragon thinks they’re brave; a wise one knows to be afraid.”

Someone called to him and the alpha turned away. The dismissal stung, but Trill was used to that. She didn’t want to hear his wisdom anyway; it felt good to know that she could frighten wingless ones all by herself. Her, a mere runt.

Eleyna still didn’t believe there’d be a storm, though as the day wore on, she began to doubt. The wind picked up, snapping ropes. The waves rose and fell more than usual. For the first time in a while, Eleyna was getting seasick, and she lost her appetite; she couldn’t bear the thought of having lunch.

Clouds built on the horizon, large, grey and brooding. Fernando yelled from behind the wheel. “Get aloft and reef the sails! Batten down the cargo!”

The ship pitched, waves crashing against its sides. Eleyna struggled over to Fernando and asked, “Shouldn’t … captain, shouldn’t we try to get to shore?”

“No shore for miles, and if we run into some when the storm’s raging we’ll be done for,” he answered curtly. “If you want to make yourself useful, go to my cabin and put away anything that isn’t fixed down before the worst hits us.”

The deck lurched, and so did her stomach. “Ugh … yes, sir. I mean captain.”

He called after her as she turned to leave. “Oh, Eleyna?”

“If you throw up, try to do it in the chamber pot, okay?” Fernando remarked. She scowled, but then he added, “Don’t look so worried. It’s not like we haven’t sailed through these before. This caravel is tougher than she looks.”

“I’m not worried … but, um, good luck. Just in case.” She hurried off before anything else awkward came out of her mouth, vocalised or not. Once she was in the cabin, Eleyna barely had time to think before the ship pitched.

The light coming in through the porthole was dim. Eleyna held on tight to the bunk, and screwed her eyes shut. “Please don’t sink, please don’t sink … ”

The hatchlings begged for a second story, this time from Early Star. She purred fondly and asked which tale they wanted to hear tonight. There was clamouring all round. “Tell us about The Great Knower and his hoard!” Dusk Cloud cried, pawing at the air. “The one with all the purple firestones!”

His sister groaned, “We’ve heard that story so many times before.”

The hatchlings snapped at each other. Early Star crooned. “Settle down, both of you. Dusk Cloud, why don’t you tell the story to our guests?”

Dusk looked up at the Fire Agates and squeaked. Click-Coo purred at him. With his friends watching – and chittering, amused – the little drake’s courage returned. He fluttered up to perch on a rock, and took a deep breath.

“Far, far away … ”

“Beyond the sunset,” Meadow drawled. He hissed at her.

“Really far away, there lives a very old, very wise dragon called The Great Knower. He’s so old, his eyes have turned to crystal. He’s flown all over the world, learning everything he can, even how to understand wingless ones. This is the tale of his Hoard of Forever. Long ago, some wingless ones found his hoard. He caught them under his claws, and they begged for mercy!”

I bet they did, Trill thought with a satisfied purr.

“The Great Knower showed the wingless ones mercy, and he told them, I will spare your lives, but in return, you must help me,”he snarled in imitation. “The wingless ones were so grateful for his mercy they agreed to do anything for him. So the Great Knower told them to find as many firestones as they could, in all the colours of the rainbow.

“He crushed and swallowed those firestones, and they let him live for centuries,” Dusk Cloud revealed, flaring his wings. “Legend says the Hoard of Forever is still out there, hidden away and guarded by the Great Knower.”

His sire prompted, “You forgot a bit. What happened to the wingless ones?”

Dusk Cloud blinked. “They – they died,” he answered, tail twitching.

“They had to die,” Rainfall declared, fangs bared. “The wingless ones became greedy; they tried to betray and kill Great Knower to steal his hoard. So he killed them instead. The lesson is, never ever trust wingless ones.”

His mate swatted him, and he yelped. “You’re scaring them!” she scolded, jerking her head at the little ones huddled together, eyes wide. They quickly tried to pretend they weren’t frightened. Sunset glared at Rainfall until he warbled an apology for growling at them. The Agates didn’t think that was so bad, really. Back at the nesting place, adults growled at them all the time.

Soon it was time to rest, but Trill couldn’t sleep. The idea made her shiver with excitement; a hoard that let a dragon live forever! What if it’s really out there? If they found it … she could live longer, grow larger. There’d be room for all of the displaced dragons. If the Great Knower was real, Trill could persuade him to share his hoard. After all, she had convinced her parents to let her leave the nesting place, and the ruffed dragons to let them rest here tonight …

The Tenebra crashed through the waves, bow rearing up and plunging down into the white-frothed water. The pirates’ shouts were overwhelmed by the wind, and Eleyna only heard garbled snatches. Clinging to the frame of the bunk for dear life, scared to open her mouth in case she threw up, Eleyna watched helplessly as everything loose was thrown about the cabin.

After what seemed like an eternity, the storm began to die down. The ship no longer bucked; now the swell felt gentle in comparison. Eleyna released her death grip and winced. Her fingers ached, and her side was bruised where she’d been thrown against the frame. She staggered to her feet.

Fernando threw the door open and rushed inside the cabin, soaked to the skin. Eleyna had barely stuttered out an apology for the mess when he grabbed her by the shoulders and demanded, “you know about healing?”

“Uh, y-yeah, I know a bit,” she answered, still shaken up. The captain shut his eyes and sighed. “Um, are you okay, sir? We’re not sinking, are we?”

“No, but we’re damn near close. The hold is flooding, a halyard snapped, Ramon broke his wrist and a lantern smashed over Marcus. Some idiot forgot to take it down and now he looks like a cockatrice clawed at his face.”

Wincing, Eleyna offered, “I can help with first aid, captain. I just need rose quartz and carnelian, I bet there’s some in the loot you got from that ship the other week,” she reasoned, before adding, “I can patch them up without crystals if I need to, but the crystals will help them heal much faster.” Fernando nodded, beckoning for her to hurry up.

She followed him to the hold, in which his crew were hurriedly bailing out water, and shifting the cargo. He led the way over to a barrel. On the lid was an image Eleyna recognised. She’d seen it often enough as a child – a crystal cut like a pentagon, with two dragon wings. The same symbol had been on the barrels of extra crystals her aunt had stored.

Fernando prised open the barrel, which was filled with pouches of crystal powder. “Whoever packed these was nice enough to label them. I assume these are what you need?” he prompted, handing a couple of pouches to her. They were labelled CARN and ROSE. She nodded. “Right, the invalids are in the galley. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure that Lanmèa doesn’t bring down my ship and all of us with it.”

With that he went to bail the hold out. Eleyna hurried back to the galley, clutching both bags. Ramon was getting his wrist set by Fabian, whilst Marcus dabbed a smelly paste onto his cuts, hissing. “The captain sent me to help,” Eleyna told them, holding up the pouches. “These crystals have healing properties. I’m gonna need bandages and something sticky.”

Fabian handed her strips of linen – that didn’t look entirely clean – and a jar of rubber sap. Eleyna smeared the sticky white glue onto the bandages, then sprinkled a pinch of pulverised carnelian or rose quartz onto each. She folded them in half and tied the carnelian-dusted bandage around a wary Ramon’s wrist, only to hesitate with Marcus’s wounds. “Just tie it round my jaw, talking hurts anyway,” he told her, wincing. She did so with great care.

Rolling Wave and Early Star invited their guests to stay as long as needed. Despite their unease at being in another flock’s territory, the Fire Agates were grateful. It was a pleasant respite from flying, especially for Trill.

Breeze and the other fledglings were fascinated and peppered them with questions. Trill in turn was curious about the ruffed dragons’ way of life. “Did your alpha have to win many challenges to lead your flock?” she inquired of Sunset, who was their son’s mate, after all, so she would surely know.

“Challenges?” repeated Sunset, tilting her head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean fights, or shows of strength,” Trill explained. “Our alpha He Who Endures is the strongest dragon in the flock, and has the biggest harem.”

Sunset wrinkled her snout. “We don’t have an alpha. Our flock is led by the oldest, wisest heart-bound pair. They help each other make the best choices for everyone, not just themselves. Rolling Wave and Early Star are Elders; when they die, another heart bound pair will take over. Does your flock really have harems? I’d hate that, I wouldn’t want to share Rainfall with anyone.”

“I don’t like harems,” Trill confessed. “Neither do my sire and dam. They’re heart bound too, like your elders,” she revealed, chest puffed out proudly.

“That’s wonderful,” Sunset crooned. “How did your parents heart bind?”

“They were flying in a storm, but lightning hit my sire and he fell. Mother carried him to an island. She refused to leave, and they heart bound to keep him alive. That’s how he earned his name, Scarred By Lightning.”

Sunset inquired, “why does your kind have to earn your names?”

“We have a legend, about the first dragons to heart bind.” She relayed the story, and finished with, “the drake and his mate named themselves ‘Forever-Faithful’ in honour of their heart bind. Ever since, we’ve named ourselves after something special that’s happened to us or that we’ve done.”

“Our story of the first heart-bound pair is a bit different. Hundreds of years ago, a drake named Twilight fell in love with a drakaina named Sky, and she fell in love with him too. They were all but inseparable. One day, Sky wanted to surprise her mate by hunting the largest prey-beast she could find, but her strike missed. The prey-beast gored her and broke her wing with its kicking.

“Twilight found her, but she would never fly again. She told him he should find another mate, but he refused to leave her. He didn’t want to live without her. He drew his own blood and dripped it in hers, so she’d always have a piece of him with her, and she did the same. Their life forces came together and healed her wing, and Twilight-Sky lived happily for many years after.”

Trill purred. “How did Early Star and Rolling Wave became heart bound?” she inquired. She expected a tale similar to that of her own sire and dam.

“I know the story, but they should be the ones who tell you,” declared Sunset, heaving herself to her paws. “Let’s find them!” The two drakainas searched out the Elders, who were happy to tell the tale of how they’d heart bound.

“We were inseparable as hatchlings,” said Early Star, “and it was clear that we would be mates one day. He and I meant everything to each other.”

Her other half continued, “We still do. One day we realised that if one of us died first, the other would be heartbroken. So we agreed that if anything happened and we could heart bind, we would. Then a few years later, Star became very sick.” Rolling Wave crooned sadly at the mere thought.

“We don’t know what made me sick. My scales moulted, I couldn’t eat much, and I was so weak … but we’d made a promise not to leave each other, no matter what. So one night, we mixed our blood in each other’s veins and made the heart bind oath. My sickness ended that very night.”

“My parents are heart bound, but my sire was hurt.” Trill told Sunset, “thanks for telling me about your flock. I wish that mine was more like this one.”

For a moment she wondered if she should ask to stay; to be part of a flock that wouldn’t look down at her. She wouldn’t eat their prey; she preferred fish. Even if she was small and didn’t like meat, she could still help them hunt. Perhaps she could help Meadow Breeze and Dusk Cloud learn to fly.

Only, Trill knew that her parents would miss her terribly. She’d promised that she’d come back to the nest. Trill had yet to find her Special Thing; she and her friends still had to find another fire-mountain for the newcomers to live on. This was a good flock of very interesting dragons, but she couldn’t stay.

Sunset asked if something was wrong. “No,” said Trill. “I was just thinking.”

Several days had passed since the storm, and Eleyna was swabbing the deck when Ramon shouted from the crow’s nest. “Ship ahoy! Off the starboard quarter!” She leaned over the bulkhead for a closer look. However, the other vessel was too far for her to make out any details. It looked bigger than theirs.

Behind her, she heard Fernando shouting up to Ramon, “What kind?!”

“It’s an Imp, captain!” Ramon yelled, “looks like it might be headed our way!”

The captain uttered an impressively filthy swear. “Hoist a false flag!” he ordered. “We must’ve drawn too much attention to ourselves recently. With any luck the Imps will think we’re a merchant ship and ignore us.”

The false flag of a merchant brig rippled in the breeze. Ramon called, “it’s no good! They’re heading our way!” The frigate began to tack in the Tenebra’s direction, the banner of the Empire streaming out in the wind from the tips of its masts; a purple cross over a black diamond, on a silver-grey background.

“Haul to port! Full speed ahead!” ordered the captain, then he snapped at Eleyna, “get below, girl!”

“I wanna help!” she protested, even as she staggered.

“You can help by staying out of our way, now move!” He shoved her towards the aft-castle. With no better options, Eleyna retreated below deck. She braced herself against the side of the door and watched the activity on deck, seeing which ropes were pulled to make the sail turn and billow in the wind.

The Tenebra was fast, but her pursuers were swift as well. To make matters worse, they were rapidly approaching the Dragon’s Fangs, a treacherous swathe of jutting rocks. Many ships had run aground or been smashed to pieces there; usually they would go around. “The Imp is veering to port!” Ramon shouted. If they were going to turn as well, it had to be now.

“Then we’ll go straight ahead. Marcus! Take a shortcut, straight through the Fangs!” announced Fernando. There was a gap a ship could sail between, if her crew was either very skilled or very desperate. “All hands on deck!”

Marcus shouted, “Captain! I’ll need a guide and Ramon is watching the Imp!”

“I can do it!” cried Eleyna, darting out from the aft-castle. “I can be a guide.”

Fernando glared at her. “I thought I told you to get below?” he demanded.

“I was below,” she retorted, before insisting, “Captain, please, let me help!”

Time was of the essence. “Fine!” he snapped. “Get up to the prow and tug on the ropes there to signal Marcus to port or starboard. Don’t mess it up!”

Eleyna gave a clumsy salute and ran off, skidding on the spray-soaked deck. Two ropes stretched from the prow to the rigging. Port and starboard. She stood on a plank wedged between the sides, gripped the ropes and braced herself. They were too far right, so she tugged on the left-hand rope.

The ship veered to port, skimming past the jutting stone. Now they had to veer right. Eleyna tugged on the left – no, right-hand rope. The ship lurched. There were two spurs on either side in the way. Eleyna pulled on both ropes to signal straight ahead, but the hull was scraped a little nonetheless.

Her arms ached, and the wind stung her rope-burned palms, but Eleyna felt so alive. This was the excitement she’d always dreamed of, perilous stunts to escape enemies! When they emerged on the other side, she cheered.

Now the ship was free to catch the wind and race away, leaving the Imperials behind. Eleyna grinned, hopped off the bench and went back to Fernando. “So how’d I do?” she asked when he deigned to look at her.

“You did your job,” he said dismissively. “Any of us could’ve done the same.”

“Yeah, but I did it,” Eleyna protested, indignant. “I should get some credit.”

“I said I wouldn’t give you special treatment and I meant it,” the captain said firmly. “Seeing as you’re so eager to help, you can go and tidy my cabin.”

Typical. Do something useful and get no thanks. Ungrateful arses. Just as she suspected, everything in Fernando’s cabin that wasn’t stuck to the floor had been thrown about. Eleyna was glad the chamber pot couldn’t tip over.

She picked up the papers that slid off his desk. A notebook had fallen open; it was covered in rows of four numbers and pairs of capital letters. Eleyna looked closer. The letters were compass directions. Then she noticed something. One of the four-digit numbers written on the page was 16:38.

Eleyna’s eyes widened. Then a hand slammed down on the page and she jumped out of her skin. “Aah! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Oh, I forgot. You’re the expert on sneaking, aren’t you?” Fernando mocked, even as he glared at her. “What are you doing, looking through my stuff?”

“I wasn’t!” Eleyna snapped. “The book was open and I saw that page, I got distracted. What’re you gonna do, throw me in the brig?”

Fernando raised an eyebrow. “Is that the best you can do, girl? If you want to be thrown in the brig, I can oblige,” he said pointedly. Eleyna frowned, but didn’t push her luck. “You should keep your tongue in your mouth where it belongs, you little rapscallion,” he informed her.

Miguel came in. “Captain, you’d better come up on deck. She’s gonna need repairs if we want to keep sail … ” he trailed off. “Am I interrupting something?”

The captain shook his head. “No, I’ll be right there. I’ll deal with you later,” he warned Eleyna, ordering her to go and help Fabian. She did as she was told, but all she could think about were those numbers. Sixteen, thirty-eight.

The Tenebra sailed to Hove Island after that harrowing dash through the Fangs. Fernando sent Ramon, Eleyna and Marcus off to refill the water barrels, whilst the rest of the men careened their ship so the hull could be patched up.

Eleyna followed the men; they knew where they were going, having been here plenty of times before. Ramon ignored her as she struggled through the brush. At least the other guy, Marcus, was willing to stop and help her.

“Thanks,” she said gratefully, as he shouldered aside thick, tangled vines.

Marcus shrugged. “I’m just making things even after you helped me steer us through the Fangs. You didn’t do half bad with that, lass.” She smiled at the compliment, weak though it was. It was nice to get a bit of praise for once.

“Thanks … again. You’re welcome. I thought the captain steered the ship?”

“Aye, but not all the time. He’s got better things to do than stand behind the wheel. We take shifts; him, the quartermaster, and the navigator. That’s me.”

“How do you navigate a ship?” Eleyna asked. Part of her was genuinely curious, but mostly she was trying to solve the mystery of those numbers.

“Basically, I figure out how far north or south we are using the sun or the stars. Then I work out how far east or west we are of the lesak line that cuts through the middle of the archipelago. I use a quartz clock on board ship; one of the real fancy ones. Used to be on board a merchant vessel, but it ain’t much use to them anymore,” he said.

Eleyna inquired, “what’s the lesak line?”

“It’s short for lespri-akua line. Natives on the eastern side of the archipelago believe in the lespri, and natives on the western side believe in akua, and there’s an imaginary line between “em.”

She wanted to ask more, but Ramon told them to hurry up. The trees were full of what Eleyna thought were birds, flitting about and shrieking. Then flashes of fire caught her eye and she looked again. They looked like winged lizards, but with feathery heads and necks, all puffed up with indignation.

Ramon spat on the ground. “Bloody cockatrices,” he grunted, aiming a pistol at the little dragons. Before he could fire, Marcus pushed the barrel down.

“Don’t, you idiot! Vicious little buggers. Shoot “em and the lot’ll be trying to claw your eyes out. C’mon, the stream oughta be down here.” The two carried on, leaving Eleyna to hurry after them. She’d heard cockatrices turned what they looked at to stone. She didn’t want to find out if it was true.

They found the river and refilled their caskets. “Wouldn’t be half bad to get marooned here,” Ramon commented. “Not that I’d want to get marooned.”

“No kidding,” Marcus snorted. “There’s water, sure, but you’d have to deal with cockatrices. Not to mention there’s no game, like the pigs on whatever island Bart the Batty got stranded on. Shame what happened to old Bart.”

“Would’ve been better off dancing the hempen jig and joining the Muertos’ crew,” agreed Ramon. Something about that name sounded oddly familiar.

She realised where she’d heard it before – from sailors back in San Nicolas. Barco de los Muertos was a legendary ghost ship – the original ghost ship – crewed by pirates, smugglers and mutineers who were cursed to sail for eternity. Bart was unfamiliar, however. “Who the heck is Bart the Batty?”

The two men stopped and stared at her. “None of your business,” sneered Ramon. “A wench like you shouldn’t know nothin’ about our tales, got it?”

“I know about the Muertos – that’s the ship of the dead, right? Cursed to sail for eternity, crewed by the damned… ” Eleyna said airily. “I used to hear sailors talk about it. They never mentioned this Bart guy, though,” she added.

“What kinda sailor worth his salt doesn't know about ol’ Bart?” scoffed Marcus.

“I’m not a sailor. C’mon, tell me. I don’t care if it’s scary, I can handle it.”

“Alright, lass, you asked for it. Way before any of us were born, the most feared pirate on the seas was the infamous Captain Bartolome. They called him Bart the Bloodthirsty; some say it’s because he drank the blood of his victims. Others say it’s cos he made “em drink their own blood.”

Eurgh. Eleyna tried and failed to not grimace. “That’s disgusting!”

“He wasn’t much nicer to his crew, so one day they mutinied. Gave him a pistol with one shot and left him stranded,” he continued. “They must not have known about the pigs. You know what the one shot is for, huh?”

It wasn’t hard to figure out. “A one-way trip to the Barco de los Muertos.”

“Aren’t you clever? Bart could’ve saved himself a lot of trouble, but he was too proud. Or stupid – he wasted it trying to kill a pig to eat, and missed. Started a stampede. They would’ve eaten Bart if he hadn’t climbed a tree.”

Pigs eat people? “I thought pigs ate nuts and corn and stuff.”

“Hogs will eat anything. Anyway, Bart went mad on that island. By the time some passing smugglers saw the smoke from his campfire, they found this scurvy madman ranting about how he was gonna cook his pig of a wife for dinner. Turned out he’d gone and married himself to one of the porkers.”

Eleyna sniggered. “Think it’s funny, do you? He was once the most feared man in the Dejeres Archipelago, then he became a disgrace,” Marcus revealed. “It does strange things to your head, getting stranded by yourself.”

I really hope I don’t get stranded, then. Eleyna disliked the idea of being shipwrecked, but she liked the idea of joining a ship of dead criminals even less. “So what happened to Bart?” she asked, morbidly curious.

“They took him off the island.” Marcus took a swig from his flask. “Recognised him, y’see, despite him being mad. Wanted to show some respect.” Some rumours claimed that Bart eventually wound up displayed like a freak in a carnival show by some rival pirate lord, but he didn’t bother mentioning that.

“Some folks say he was executed and turned into one o’ them rock-heads,” Ramon added, “so they could show off his ugly mug forever.”

“There’s no such thing,” Eleyna scoffed. “You’re thinking of fossils.”

“Don’t tell me what I mean, you little brat. Rock-heads are real. If the cap’n had any sense he’d have you turned into one, then maybe you’d shut up.”

“You can shut up an’ all,” grunted Marcus. “Ignore him, he’s talking out his ass.” Eleyna snickered. “The cap’n doesn’t know anyone who could do that.”

“Oh, yeah? What about the shaman on Madines?” Ramon shot back. “Rumour has it she has a rock-head. Maybe we oughta hand you over.” He sneered at Eleyna, who stepped on his foot as she pushed past. “Ow!”

Something crawled over her hand; Eleyna flinched. She was picking weevils out of the hard-tack. Normally bugs didn’t faze her, but when they were in her food – eww. The pirates joked that she ought to leave them in for flavour. Eleyna wouldn’t eat a weevil-infested biscuit, no matter how hungry she was.

She felt relieved when Marcus said the captain wanted her on deck. Ignoring Fabian’s grumbles, she hurried to the top deck. Fernando was at the wheel. “Reporting for duty, Captain,” Eleyna declared, giving him a smart salute.

“What are you, on board a frigate?” Fernando asked sarcastically. “I’ve been thinking,” he informed her, “seeing as you helped get us through the Fangs … maybe it’s time you had a bit more responsibility aboard this ship.”

Eleyna blinked, and Fernando continued. “Trouble is, you’re too small to do any heavy lifting,” he remarked, “so I’ve decided to send you up top.” He pointed at the crow’s nest; Eleyna had wanted to climb up there since she came aboard, but never had the chance. “There’s a compass and spyglass up there already. Keep a lookout for merchant brigs or schooners we can target.”

She’d rather be up there than down in the galley, so Eleyna hurried over to the mast. There were metal rings on the side she could climb to the crow’s nest. The higher she went the more the mast swayed back and forth. By the time Eleyna reached the crow’s nest, it was nerve-wracking to climb over the edge.

She picked up the spyglass, peering down at the deck – only to see Fernando glaring up at her. Wincing, she checked the compass to get her bearings and looked out to the horizon. The ocean stretched around them on all sides, sunlight glittering off azure waves. It looked rather picturesque, really.

Her hand grasped her locket. It was the only heirloom of her mother she had; and there wasn’t even a picture of Nicole inside. Just the wrong date of birth and the words To My Treasure. Clearly she hadn’t been treasured enough.

Lost in thought, Eleyna finally noticed something moving in the corner of her eye. She fumbled with the spyglass and looked through it at the ship, which didn’t bear the Imperial flag on its mast. From here she could make out the cannons lining its side. “Brig to port!” she yelled down. “It’s armed!”

She had to cling on tight as the mast swayed and the prow swung around. Wind filled the lateen sails on the bowsprit, pushing the ship forwards.

“Eleyna!” Fernando yelled. “Come down!”She didn’t want to be up there if cannons were fired … although, would being higher be better if they sank?

Rather than dwell on that, Eleyna decided it was probably safer to do as she was told. However, if climbing up to the crow’s nest had been a struggle, climbing down from it as the ship rocked back and forth was petrifying. “You know the drill,” said Fernando, handing the wheel over to Miguel.

“Wait,” Eleyna gasped out, “what about the cannons?”

“We have “em too,” he retorted. “They won’t aim for the cabins. Just don’t barricade the door, so you can’t get stuck. Now shoo.” He pushed her firmly towards the aft-castle, and turned to shout orders at his men before Eleyna could try to argue. She went to his cabin; it wasn’t like she had much choice. He’d better be right. I don’t want to get blown to smithereens, or drowned …

She stowed things away and crawled under the bunk, hoping that if a cannonball hit, she’d be spared the worst of the shrapnel. Eleyna had seen the wounds that were inflicted and almost thrown up. After an eternity, or so it seemed, the unmistakable bang of cannon fire made her ears ring. Screaming, she wrapped her hands over her head and hunkered down.

Eleyna had no idea which blasts were theirs and which were from the merchant ship. It felt as if any moment, the hull would tear and they’d sink. Instead, the tide of battle changed, from what little she could hear. The deafening thuds and smashes of cannonballs were replaced with the sharp cracks of muskets and quartzlocks, but the shouting was loud as ever.

At last, the racket began to die down. Eleyna crawled out from under the bunk, unsure if the battle was over and if so, who had won. A scroll crinkled beneath her foot; she smoothed it out on the bunk. It was a map of the archipelago.

There was Atanes, and Puerto Escondido to the southeast. Eleyna couldn’t find Hove Island on the map, which seemed odd. Maybe there’s treasure buried on that island and the captain doesn’t want anyone to know about it. She paused. The idle thought had been in jest, but now she wondered … there were latitude and longitude numbers along the edges of the map. Eleyna opened her locket. On one side, 05.06.1638.And on the other side, the words To My Treasure …

Nicole left her this locket for a reason. Let’s see … latitude, sixteen degrees. Longitude, thirty-eight degrees. She slid her fingers together, heartbeat racing.

Eleyna heard the door open, and leapt to her feet. A stranger stared at her, cutlass in hand. “Who are you? I-if my uncle finds you, he’ll keelhaul you!”

“Uncle?” the man repeated gruffly. “The captain of this ship’s your uncle?”

That was the cover story, and she couldn’t take it back now. “Yeah, so you’d better – ” she never got to finish, because he suddenly charged at her, raising his cutlass. Eleyna screamed and tried to dodge past; instead she nearly ran into his sword and twisted away, nearly falling over. The stranger grabbed her and put his blade to her throat. She froze. “W-what do you want?”

“Let’s go and have a little chat with your uncle, shall we?” he suggested. Before she could move, Fernando appeared, his expression hard as stone.

Without a word, he shot her would-be ransomer in the head. He fell back with a thump, a hole in his forehead. Fernando stared at Eleyna, who was trembling, eyes wide. “You were still supposed to lock the door, you idiot.”

“I … I forgot. I’m sorry,” she answered, face burning. “H-he was after me.” Eleyna stared at the dead man. She couldn’t bring herself to pity him.

“I doubt it,” the captain scoffed. “Did you tell him anything?” he demanded.

Eleyna flinched a bit. “I – I said … I told him you were my uncle,” she admitted.

“He thought you’d make a good hostage. Turns out they weren’t merchants; it was a rival crew.” Fernando paused, then asked gruffly, “did he hurt you?”

Eleyna shook her head. “I’m fine.” Miguel appeared in the doorway. He stared at the dead man, then at Fernando, his mouth opening slightly.

“Give me a hand, would you?” asked Fernando, gesturing to the body as if it were a sack. “Eleyna, go help patch up the crew.” She nodded and slipped past Miguel, happy to get out of the way. All thoughts of her locket, and the island she’d been trying to look for, had completely slipped her mind.