Cedric
The main deck was absolute chaos, but not at all for the reasons I’d been expecting.
Incoherent shouting assaulted my ears as men sprinted to and fro. Screams of terror intermingled with the handful of crewmen attempting to take control without a clear leader. Nothing significant was getting accomplished, and I still couldn’t tell what the fuck had even happened. Unsure whether the ship would tilt again, I made certain I had a firm grip on the nearest railing before assessing the weather. It was lightly drizzling but not full-on storming. Clouds completely obstructed the sun, and thunder rolled softly in the distance, but judging by the still-calm winds, we had a while before the storm would reach us, if at all. The ocean was agitated, but it shouldn’t be anything The Jolly Serpent couldn’t handle with relative ease; she was a man-o’-war, after all. So what the hells had tilted us so severely not once, but twice?
There was one person I had yet to spot among the disaster happening in slow motion before me. “Elvira!” I cupped my hand over my mouth in an attempt to help my shout carry, but my voice was quickly swallowed among the rapidly spreading panic. In the short time I’d been on deck, even more of the men appeared to have seen a ghost, and I was beginning to wonder if they were aware of something I simply wasn’t.
I shouted my sister’s name a few more times, and not only was it useless, but I still hadn’t glimpsed a single flash of that telltale blonde hair. It seemed I’d only get answers by questioning a member of the crew. I reached for the nearest man, snatching him by the shoulder with my hook. Without releasing my grip on the railing, I yanked him toward me, ignoring his yelp of pain as metal pierced the skin near his collarbone.
“What the fuck is going on?”
It was several moments before Hudson’s gaze fixated on me, and when it did, all the remaining color left his face. He raised a quivering finger, pointing at my face and chest. “A-are ye a-all r-right, Captain?”
I’d forgotten I was covered in blood. “Fine. Answer the damn question.”
“W-we don’t kn-know,” Hudson stammered, not looking the least bit reassured by my own answer. “Some m-men swear it’s the squid, others claim it was the d-dragon.”
“The squid… or the dragon?”
“But n-no one’s s-seen either,” he added, as if that cleared everything up. “So we don’t know for sure.”
I cursed so vehemently that Hudson flinched. “Where is my sister?”
“E-Elvira? Haven’t noticed ʼer.”
Useless. Fucking useless, all of them. Calypso had warned me of the monsters that lurked in these waters, of course, but if one of them was the cause of our current predicament, surely the crew would be able to decide which one; it wasn’t as if the beasts were subtle. I shoved Hudson away with a growl, ripping my hook from his flesh without gentleness or mercy before continuing my way across the deck, not daring to let go of the railing for even a single stride. Keeping my knees bent, I ensured my center of gravity remained low, prepared for the ship to slip out from beneath me at any moment.
I’d given up on spotting Elvira and instead began searching for the second best thing: Mr. Smee’s bright red hat. It took another moment for me to spot it, but when I did, the crimson fabric was difficult to fixate upon given the unnerving way it flopped about like a dying fish. Another five seconds and I realized Smee was waving his hat around in what looked to be a signal, but what in hells he was trying to communicate—and to whom—was anyone’s guess.
“Mr. Smee!” We were closer now than we were before, but there was too much chaos between us for him to clearly hear me. He glanced up, but not in my direction, and I gritted my teeth before trying again.
“Sam—”
The ship rocked a third time, jarring and sudden, and despite my best efforts, my legs slipped out from under me. My side of the vessel lifted while the other half tilted down, and the angle was so severe that for a moment, I wondered if we might capsize. Tightening my grip on the rail, I somehow managed to keep hold of the slippery wooden surface even as the shoulder forced to bear my weight felt as though it might rip from its socket. Blood pooled in my mouth from where I’d bitten my tongue, but I used the discomfort as an anchor, refusing to allow my battered body to slide across the deck as so many were around me. Screams assaulted my ears, swiftly followed by sickening cracks and slaps as flesh and limbs alike struck various obstacles; the masts, the cannons and crates which had yet to come undone, the hull itself. I wasn’t in a position to see them, but I swore there was also the sound of bodies tumbling into the ocean, and with the way this ship was rocking, the poor souls the sea had claimed were likely never to be seen again.
“Adais have mercy,” I whispered as The Jolly Serpent righted herself, crashing against the waves with a force that rattled me to my core. A paralyzing fear seized my chest, and for a moment I stood frozen, unable to so much as breathe as I came to terms with my current reality. I’d spent my entire life aboard ships of every size and type, had presumed I’d experienced everything there was to encounter while at sea, but never once had I gone through anything resembling this. How could we save ourselves from something we couldn’t even see? I now understood and empathized with the panic and chaos unfolding around me, and even felt a strong urge to partake in it, but more than any of them, I couldn’t afford to lose my head. Not if I wanted us to live.
But what could be done; what could I do? We were either battling the oddest storm I’d ever encountered, or Hudson had spoken true, and a monster was responsible for our plight. I supposed it made sense that one could be thrashing about in the waters below, tilting the ship and agitating the waves in a way that had nothing to do with the storm, but how in hells that could be remedied remained lost on me.
I was still deep in thought when another chorus of screams rose up, but as far as I could tell, the ship wasn’t rocking—at least no more than it had to be in order to balance us atop increasingly agitated waters. Whipping my head in the voices’ direction, it immediately became apparent why the men were newly distressed: not only had a cannon come loose from its restraints, it had rolled halfway across the deck to land on some poor soul’s lower half. I couldn’t see his face, but his howls of agony were more than enough to inform me some part of him had been crushed… as was the blood pooling in alarming amounts beneath his body.
Crossing the distance in a few hurried strides, without hesitation, I knelt at the cannon’s side. There was no way I’d be able to lift it from the crewman completely, especially with only one functional hand, but I braced both arms beneath the base and heaved nonetheless. My shoulders screamed in protest, and I gritted my teeth from the strain of it, but I wasn’t on my own for long. Within seconds, a man appeared on either side of me, joined by at least two more on the opposite side of the cannon.
Our combined strength was just enough to lift the half that had our crewmate trapped, and only then did I realize his leg had been shattered and partially pierced by one of the wheels. Blood actively spurted from the gruesome wound, splattering all over our worried faces. If it was the femoral artery that had been severed, this was a far more urgent scenario than I’d originally thought.
But the man couldn’t be freed—not yet. Two more men were trying and failing to yank him to safety while a third searched frantically for where and however else he could still be caught. What none of them seemed to realize was they’d be freeing a corpse if we didn’t stop the man from bleeding out in front of us.
“Someone get that leg a tourniquet!” I had no idea to whom I was speaking; I couldn’t move my head from its current position pressed against the cannon’s side. “Tie it off above where he’s bleeding.”
I had to repeat myself before someone obeyed, but once they did, the blood flow slowed significantly. He remained trapped, though, and the longer we sat there like fools, the more worried I became that the ship would tilt yet again. If the cannon’s weight were to shift even slightly, it could not only kill the man we were working so hard to save, it could take any number of us along with it.
“It’s his foot!” someone finally exclaimed—Smee. I hadn’t the slightest idea when or how he’d gotten here, but I’d never been more grateful for his uncanny ability to remain calm even in the most stressful of scenarios. “You there, lift a bit higher, yes, there!”
The men in question scrambled to obey, and gods, it fucking worked. I half laughed, half sobbed when the victim was pulled several precious inches to freedom. Just a little farther, and—
Yet another shuddering jolt took us all by surprise. It wasn’t a full-on tilt, but the cannon slipped from my arms regardless, beginning to inch backward and toward the gunport from which it came. The men in its path caught and stopped it, but only barely, and it was clear from their cries they wouldn’t be able to hold it for long. Heart pounding, I scrambled to my feet and darted around to assess the situation, but it seemed to be good news. Not only had the trapped man been completely freed, no one besides those who held it remained in the cannon’s chosen path. If it kept heading in that direction, there was a good chance it might fall overboard, but losing a cannon was far better than losing human beings.
Positioning myself among them, I braced my back against the cannon’s side before nodding to my companions. “Go—get out of here! I’ll slow it down.”
The man to my right threw me a look of surprise. “But Captain—”
“Just go!”
Hesitantly, they abandoned me one by one, leaving me the sole obstacle between the cannon and the sea. Though I wasn’t bearing anywhere near the cannon’s full weight—The Jolly Serpent had more or less leveled out, for now—there was no way I could remain where I was for long. I’d need to be strategic regarding when and how I darted, light and quick on my feet, like… Well, like Elvira.
Gods, where the hells was she? The thought had been a fleeting one, but part of me had wondered if whoever Smee had been signaling with his hat could have possibly been my sister, but he was nowhere near close enough for me to ask him now. I was alone, and I may well be dead if I didn’t move soon. Tensing my legs, I shifted my weight forward and was preparing to leap to the side when I heard it.
“Ced?” The smallest of whispers cut cleanly through my racing thoughts, spoken by a voice that made my heart stop.
Elvira.
I looked straight ahead. Drenched, quivering, dangling from the side of the ship and clinging to the empty gunport for dear life was my sister. Her wide, terrified gaze communicated everything already plain for me to see. I couldn’t let go of the cannon, not even for the time it would take to pull her to safety. If I tried, I could just as easily get us both crushed if the cannon were to fall. But her white-knuckled grip was slipping, she was weak, and having no idea how long she’d already been hanging there, I didn’t know how much longer she could hold on.
My blood ran cold as I stared at her, and a single fear became all-consuming. Was I about to watch my sister die?
“Hold on. Just hold on.” Words tumbled from my lips, but as useless and empty as they were, I couldn’t stop. They were a plea far more than an order, because of all the people I had to lose, I didn’t want Elvira to be one of them. She couldn’t be one of them. She’d been part of my life longer than anyone else, by my side even longer than Scarlett; losing my sister would mean losing part of myself, a part I’d never have any hope of getting back.
As if she read my thoughts, Elvira nodded, and the simple gesture was enough for logic to seize control of my panicked mind. Help. We needed help, and fast, but who would hear either of us if we screamed? We were too far removed from the rest of the crew, and they’d paid me no mind even when I’d been standing among them, shouting at the top of my lungs.
But maybe that was it… I didn’t need to shout. Some faraway part of my mind recalled what Calypso’s note had said: Let me know if you need me. You need only whisper.
With my next breath, I did just that. “Calypso—can you hear me? Please, help us. Help Elvira.” So much was still happening around us that hearing my own whispered words was impossible, but I didn’t care how ridiculous it looked or sounded. To save Elvira, I’d do anything.
It was another handful of breaths before anything happened, but suddenly, there she was. I caught only a glimpse of Calypso’s billowing dress before she knelt at the gunport. Seizing each of Elvira’s wrists, in an impressive feat of strength, she heaved, pulling my sister back aboard in a single yank. If anything, it was a bit too overzealous; the women went careening backward, landing in a tangled heap of limbs and skirts.
Elvira got back on her feet almost immediately, hissing something I couldn’t understand—not because I was distracted, but because Calypso’s voice was in my fucking head.
Move away from that cannon, Cedric Teach, and get your sister out of here.
My body obeyed before my mind could decide whether or not I’d imagined the nymph’s unspoken command. Abandoning the cannon, I darted to my left, purposefully crashing into Elvira on my mission to get us both as far from that damned gunport as possible, then dragged her along until we were a good few meters away from what could have been my sister’s demise. Slipping one arm around her waist and hooking my prosthetic firmly to the hull, I braced us for yet another tilt before turning back toward Calypso. I opened my mouth in a silent cry, for the sight before me wasn’t at all what I had been expecting.
The nymph stood perched atop the rail, perfectly balanced despite the waves thrashing beneath us. Both her hair and dress whipped violently around her lithe form, but the chaos of it suited her, somehow; had the circumstances been any different, I may have once again found myself entranced by Calypso’s ethereal beauty. But I couldn’t shake the thought that she may be about to jump—was that why she’d ordered me to get away? So I couldn’t stop her?
Finding my voice, I screamed her name, but Calypso’s only response was to raise her chin and smile at the sea. She brought both her arms to shoulder level before her lips began moving in what appeared to be some sort of chant, though I was too far away to make out her words. On and on she went, gradually lifting her arms higher and higher, until her head tilted so far back I wondered if she might bend over backwards. But her stance remained as sure as her footing, and after about a minute, there was a visible shift in the waters surrounding us. The waves went from turbulent and unpredictable to smooth and relatively still, nearly immobile by the time Calypso’s form slumped and she actually did go careening backwards, crumpling into a limp heap on the still-bloody deck.
It was difficult to tell if the world had at last gone truly silent or if it was simply a result of my own blood roaring in my ears. I vaguely registered Elvira saying my name as I made my way over to Calypso, both hurried and slow all at once given that I was terrified over what I might discover. What had just happened… and what had been the price?
I knelt beside the nymph before taking her in my arms. She stirred then, dark eyes fluttering open for a fraction of a second before closing once again. A chuckle escaped her. “Cedric Teach, did I have you worried?”
Of course she did, but I wouldn’t dare admit that aloud. “What just happened?” I kept my voice low while it was only the two of us. “What did you do?”
Calypso waved her hand lazily. “Child of Adais, remember? Ceto isn’t the only one who can manipulate the sea.”
Shock rippled through me. “And you waited until now to—”
“Because this is what it does to me,” Calypso finished, opening her eyes to glare up at me. She gestured to her battered body, quivering and still mostly limp. “And just because I can do it doesn’t mean I’d like to make a habit of it. You know, just as your sister ought to make more of an effort not to fucking drown.”
“Me?” Elvira’s indignant screech was so high-pitched it caused me to wince. She stomped toward us, coming to stop at my back. “Are you saying this is my fault?”
“I’m saying you’re far too experienced of a quartermaster and a sailor to let the crew’s panic get so out of hand. That man is dead because of your carelessness.”
The three of us glanced to where the rest of the crew had gathered, around the man we’d worked so hard to free from the wayward cannon. I still couldn’t make out his face, but the copious amounts of blood pooling around his broken body were telling enough. “Who is it?” I asked.
Elvira ignored me. “In case you haven’t noticed, Silvertongue, not all of us have sea magic. What would you have had me do?”
“I wouldn’t have you here at all!” Shoving my arms away, Calypso forced herself upright, meeting my gaze before turning back to Elvira. “I warned both of you that she shouldn’t be here, and that there would be a price for thinking you know better than the gods. If you think this pays it, think again—this is only the beginning of your suffering.”
“Says who?” Elvira sneered. “You? The little nymph wh—”
“Elvira,” I said, my voice a low growl. “She just saved your life. Be very careful what you say next.”
My sister drew a series of audible huffs but stalked away rather than argue further. Calypso rose a moment later, waving away my attempts to help her steady herself. “Don’t you have a crew to worry about?” she asked, her tone clearly dismissive.
“Yes, but are you all right? Is Wendy?”
Calypso nodded. “She’s probably awake now, but that hammock should have kept her from tumbling anywhere.”
“That doesn’t answer my other question.”
She sighed. “Just go, Cedric Teach. We have plenty to discuss later.”
I’d have probably pressed her further if I wasn’t worried she’d start asking me about my dream, so I forced myself to turn away, fixating instead upon the men still gathered around our fallen comrade. Pushing my way through the crowd, I trailed my gaze up the corpse’s body, over his shattered leg and sunken-in chest, coming to rest on his pale face… his young pale face, framed by wild mousy curls.
For a harrowing moment, I mistook him for Pan, but it wasn’t Wendy’s friend: it was Wylan. One of our youngest, yet most promising hands, made to die a gruesome death I wouldn’t wish upon anyone other than the fucking bastards still chained in my brig. Calypso may have declared Elvira the one at fault, but I knew the truth—Wylan’s death was on my selfish hands, only the first of many more men I’d lead to slaughter before all this was over, all in the name of finding Scarlett.
At the thought of her, that ever-present ache in my chest swelled. Gods, I needed to hit something, and I needed to hit something now, but thankfully I had the perfect outlet strung up and waiting for me.
The trek back to the brig was a blur, and I was breathless by the time I yanked open its metal door. Two terrified faces greeted me; the third was too quiet, too still, and I frowned. Alder had bled out. A shame that I hadn’t been there to watch the light leave his eyes, but I still had Nelson and Digby. I raised my hook and gave each of them a beaming, twisted smile.
“Now, where were we?”