Everyone’s spirits were much improved that night. Roger built a merry fire in a large brass kettle dragged to the upper deck from the galley. Also in the galley, Nubbins discovered a dry cask of beans, a few spices, and some hardtack, which he managed to turn into a wonderful meal.
Once everyone had eaten, they danced under the moonlight to the sounds of both song and an orchestra provided by the aftereffects of their meal. Jocelyn stuffed her worries down deep inside, for she hoped if she looked unconcerned, her men would feel likewise. It seemed to work. After the dancing ended, the crew found places to curl up on the deck, wrapped in pieces of old sail. One by one, they drifted into untroubled sleep.
Jocelyn laid her hat aside and took first watch. She sat alone at the edge of the wreck, feet hanging between the bars of the railing. The full moon made a shining path on the water, like a road. How she wished they could all just climb on and follow it back to land.
Evie joined her, dangling her bare feet next to her. A nearby splash made the older girl pull them back. “Do you suppose that was a shark? And if so, how high can they jump?” she asked.
“I don’t think they can jump this high,” Jocelyn replied. “And that splash is more likely to have been a mermaid.”
“A mermaid…” Evie practically sighed the word. “How I would love to meet one.”
Jocelyn wrinkled her nose. “They are not as impressive as you might think. When I encountered some, they suggested I drown myself. Beastly things.”
Evie dangled her feet over the side again. “I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but you are so lucky.”
Jocelyn cracked a smile. “I know.”
Both girls giggled, and Jocelyn felt the last of their earlier tension ebb away.
“I’m sorry we fought,” Evie said.
“So am I,” Jocelyn replied.
There didn’t seem a need to say more about it. Out of habit, Jocelyn reached up and fingered her necklace. Moonlight glinted off the jeweled sea serpent embedded in the pendant’s face, catching Evie’s eye.
“Your locket is lovely. Is there a portrait inside?”
Jocelyn closed her fingers around it, protectively, but then loosened them. She and Evie were having such a nice time together, Jocelyn didn’t want to spoil it. Besides, what harm could it do? It wasn’t as if Evie could possibly know what her future husband would look like. “It’s my father,” she said, flipping the locket open.
Evie leaned in for a closer look, then gasped and drew back. “It’s…oh, it’s so strange.”
Jocelyn frowned. “What is?”
“That painting. It looks familiar.”
A shiver ran up Jocelyn’s spine. Had the other girl somehow divined her future in Hook’s face? “You recognize him?” she asked.
“Oh no,” Evie said, “It’s the portrait itself. It’s exactly like I would have painted it. I feel as though I have seen a letter I didn’t write, somehow penned in my own hand.”
Jocelyn’s heart thumped. For one crazy moment she considered telling Evie everything, but she simply couldn’t. What if Evie learned Jocelyn would be her daughter and she felt nothing more than disappointment?
Instead Jocelyn blurted the first thing that came into her head. “Why did you ever agree to fly off with that irritating Pan?”
Evie laughed. “He is quite full of himself, isn’t he?”
“To say the least!” Jocelyn agreed.
“But truly, he’s not so terrible. He can be rather amusing, once you get past all that ‘Oh, how clever am I’ business. Flying away with him offered me things I’d never get at home: excitement, adventure, the chance to forget my old life and do something entirely new. And look what else it got me—a new best friend.”
She smiled at Jocelyn, moonlight shining in her eyes. Jocelyn smiled back, but she felt worried. What if Evie forgot her old life entirely? The harbormaster had said that those who forgot their home—who became untethered—were miserable.
Oh, what was she to do about Evie?
Roger interrupted her thoughts. He tiptoed carefully over the sleeping pirates, trying not to wake anyone, and joined them. “What are you two whispering about over here?”
Evie giggled. “Girlish things—right, Jocelyn? You wouldn’t understand.”
Jocelyn grinned. “Right.”
“Oh, well then. In that case, you can educate me.” He stretched out on the deck behind them. “What kinds of things do girls talk about when boys aren’t around to hear?”
“The usual,” Jocelyn replied. “How to get bloodstains out of party dresses.”
Evie nodded solemnly. “Whether a sword or a dagger is better suited for our delicate hands.”
“Oh yes,” Jocelyn said. “And what number of kills will best impress a future suitor.”
“I think no fewer than twenty,” Evie said, “but Jocelyn believes that if the girl is also a good dancer, she might get away with as little as eighteen. What do you think, Roger? It would be nice to get a male perspective.”
He flashed a moonlit grin. “I think you two are certifiably insane. It’s one of my favorite things about you both.”
Though she wasn’t sure she liked having to share a favorite thing with Evie, Jocelyn had to admit that it was fun to spend time with another girl. Evie was unlike anyone she had ever met.
The three sat in companionable silence under the starry sky.
Evie drummed her feet along the side of the ship. “I don’t know what it’s like where you are from, but where I live, at the ever-so-prim-and-proper”—she spoke in an overly formal, mocking voice—“Miss Eliza Crumb-Biddlecomb’s Finishing School for Young Ladies, no one else would appreciate this. The girls would be too worried about not looking ladylike enough, and Miss Eliza, she would be livid at the conditions.”
“I didn’t know you went to school there!” Jocelyn cried in surprise.
“Do you know my school?” Evie asked.
Jocelyn scrambled to recover from her gaffe. “No. I mean, I assumed someone like you wouldn’t need finishing school.”
Evie laughed. “You must be joking! My father despairs of ever turning me into a lady. That’s where Miss Eliza comes in.” Evie motioned to the snoring heap of pirates. “She would say, ‘No matter the circumstances, a young lady should never engage in conversation with ruffians. No—’”
“Exceptions!” Jocelyn finished for her, laughing.
Evie gave her a bemused look. “Yes. But how could you know she would say that?”
“Oh. Well. I…” She looked to Roger for help.
“That sounds like just the sort of thing any stuffy old headmistress would say, doesn’t it, Jocelyn?”
“Quite.”
Evie stared at Jocelyn as if the younger girl were a puzzle she couldn’t quite work out.
“What about other things from home?” Jocelyn ventured. “I know school was awful, but there has to be something you miss.”
“I miss my father. I admit that, freely. When we sang his lullaby together, I missed him so much I could hardly stand it, but that was because even then I think I knew that I would not be going back. His plans for me…they’re not what I want.” Below their feet, a school of glowing fish passed by, lighting up the water. “This. This is what I want. Adventure. Beauty. Surprise. I think I’ll stay.”
Roger raised an eyebrow at Jocelyn. She knew what he thought she should do, but even though she had been tempted a few moments before, the girl simply couldn’t bring herself to tell Evie everything. There had to be another way.
“Besides,” Evie continued, “my life at home seems so far away now, as if it were nothing but a dream, and the longer I’m awake, the less sharp it becomes. I have a feeling I won’t miss it too badly, for I may forget it altogether.”
Jocelyn was about to respond, to urge the girl to hold tight to her memories of home, but something on the sea caught her attention and stole her thoughts away.
Sailing directly up the middle of the shining path the moon cut through the water was a ship, but not just any ship. Jocelyn pulled her spyglass from its pouch to get a better look. The vessel appeared to be made entirely of moonbeams and air—and it was sailing straight at them.