Chapter 2

Chapter

Two

S omewhere in the Atlantic Ocean—1717

Captain Aiden Cameron stood at the helm of the Siren, his weathered hands gripping the smooth wood as he surveyed the vast expanse of the sea before him. The creaking of the ship's timbers and the snap of canvas sails filled his ears as moonlight danced on the choppy waters, casting an eerie glow on the ship's battle-scarred hull. The salty air whipped through his long, midnight hair, adorned with various gemstones, gold, trinkets, and beads that clinked softly with each gust.

He'd tied a pale blue strip of cloth around his head to keep the sweat from his eyes. The silver light glinted off the hilt of his cutlass and the elaborate embroidery of the now tattered and faded coat flapped around his legs as he shifted his weight, the deck creaking beneath his once fine black boots.

The motley crew of seasoned pirates busied themselves on the deck, their colorful garb fluttering in the wind as they went about their assigned tasks.

One of the men sauntered by, shirtless and barefoot. The words, take what ye can, give nothing back , tattooed across his massive shoulders. Aye, Aiden could always count on Davey.

Until recently, Aiden consistently led the Siren to claim the biggest and richest prizes on the sea. But recently, their prizes yielded little more than a few bolts of silk, several casks of rum, and some moldy hardtack. Now, with their stores running dangerously low, he could taste the growing discontent on the wind. No matter. A roguish grin played on his lips as the familiar thrill of the hunt coursed through his veins.

"Ye scurvy dogs!" he bellowed, his Scottish brogue thick with excitement. "There be treasure on the horizon, and by the powers, we'll be claimin' it for our own!"

The crew erupted in cheers, their earlier grumblings about dwindling rations momentarily forgotten.

"Now listen here, ye bilge rats," he bellowed, his voice carrying across the deck. "We may be pirates, but we've got a code. Take what ye can, aye, but remember, we're not savages. We'll show mercy to those who surrender, but heaven help the fool who dares to cross us!"

The men nodded in agreement, their respect for their captain evident in their eyes. Aiden may have been ruthless when necessary, but he was also fair. A rather rare quality in a pirate captain.

As the Siren cut through the waves, her black sails billowing against the starry sky, he knew there was nowhere else he'd rather be. The sea was his home. Aye, they'd had a long streak of bad luck, but he was determined to turn their fortunes around.

After all, he was Captain Aiden Cameron, and the sea was his mistress. With a flourish of his tattered coat and a hand on his cutlass, he was ready to face whatever adventures lay ahead.

"Cap'n," a gruff voice called from behind him.

Aiden turned to face his first mate, a burly man with a face weathered by years at sea.

"The men are talkin' of returnin' to Nassau. They say?—"

"I know what they say." His jaw clenched, his hand tightening on the ship's wheel.

"We press on, Mr. Hawkins. There's a fat merchant ship out there, just waiting for us to claim her bounty. I can feel it in me bones."

Hawkins shifted uncomfortably, the deck creaking beneath his feet. "Aye, but the men... They're talkin' about a vote, Cap'n. Tonight."

The words hit like a physical blow, but he kept his face impassive as he arched a dark brow.

"Is that so?" he said, his Scottish brogue thickening with emotion. "Well, then. We'll just have to see how that goes, won't we?"

An ill wind blew across the deck, bringing with it the stench of unwashed bodies and stale rum that permeated the ship, mingling with the ever-present scent of tar and brine.

"Saints preserve me," he muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. "I'll not let those bilge rats take what's mine."

As Hawkins retreated, Aiden turned his gaze back to the stars.

He knew the articles of agreement gave them the right, but the thought of failure, of returning empty-handed, was bitter as gall in his mouth.

The hours ticked by, marked by the tolling of the ship's bell. Night deepened, and with it came an eerie calm. The usual creaks and groans of the ship seemed muffled, as if the Siren herself was holding her breath. Aiden paced the quarterdeck, his kohl-rimmed eyes scanning the darkness.

"Just a bit longer," he murmured to himself, the words barely audible over the clanging of the bell. "The tide will turn. I can feel it."

As midnight approached, Aiden strode towards his quarters, the weight of command bearing down on his broad shoulders.

As he slid the doors open, Aiden spotted Inky, the ship's black cat and resident rat catcher, finishing off a fresh kill in the corner. The feline's green eyes gleamed in the dim light as it licked its paws clean.

"Ah, there's a good hunter," Aiden said, nodding approvingly at the cat. "Keep at it, ye wee beastie. Can't have the vermin overrunning us now, savvy?"

Inky blinked lazily in response, then returned to grooming himself, seemingly unperturbed by the captain's presence or the rocking of the ship.

The cabin was a reflection of the man himself. A curious mix of refinement and ruggedness. Maps and charts covered the sturdy oak desk, while a few fine silks and exotic trinkets still adorned the mostly bare walls. The scent of leather-bound books mingled with the ever-present tang of salt and tar.

Aiden paced back and forth, the floorboards creaking beneath his polished boots. Outside, he heard the cry of gulls. 'Twas an odd sound so far from shore. The ship's bell began to toll, marking the midnight hour.

"Damn it all," Aiden growled, frustration boiling over. With a roar, he snatched up a pewter mug as it rolled across the floor and hurled it across the cabin.

The mug struck the corner of the ornate desk with a resounding clang. Aiden froze, his head tilted to the side as a hidden compartment sprang open with a soft click, revealing a bit of yellowed parchment within. Heart racing, he retrieved the document, carefully unrolling it with trembling hands.

As he took in the intricate map before him, he tapped his hand against his thigh.

"Bloody hell," he whispered, tracing the lines with a calloused finger. "The Mermaid's Tear. 'Tis real."

The map detailed the location of a legendary treasure, one whispered about in taverns from Nassau to Tortuga. If true, it would mean untold riches, enough to satisfy even the most mutinous of crews.

"By the saints," he breathed, heart racing as he turned the map over to note the odd symbols on the back.

"The legends are true."

All pirates had heard whispers of the Mermaid's Tear, a pearl of unimaginable beauty and power, said to grant its possessor the ability to cheat death itself.

As Aiden pored over the map, a strange glow caught his eye. On his desk, half-hidden beneath a stack of logbooks, a piece of sea glass glowed as if the sun hit it.

Aiden picked up the sea glass, turning it over in his palm. The light shimmered and an ill wind blew through the window, but beyond that, nothing happened.

With a shrug, he dropped it on the desk. He wrapped the map in a piece of oiled cloth, tucking it into his coat pocket for safekeeping.

Hold. He whirled, picking up the sea glass again as his heart thundered in his chest. The old tales associated with the treasure also spoke of signs that heralded the appearance of the Veil, a mystical gate to other worlds, or so 'twas said. The glowing sea glass, the cry of gulls at midnight, and now this unnatural wind...

Before he could ponder further, a bone-jarring crack of thunder split the air. The ship lurched violently, nearly throwing Aiden off his feet. He stuffed the sea glass into his pocket and bolted for the door, emerging onto a deck in chaos.

"Let the storm rage." He threw his head back, relishing the storm as the rain pelted his face, soaking his linen shirt to his skin in moments. His glee was short-lived as a wave struck the ship, sending her pitching violently.

Men frantically climbed the rigging to pull in the sails before the wind tore them to shreds and toppled the masts.

There would be no vote this night.

On the horizon, a ghostly ship materialized, clearly visible through the storm. Its sails tattered, its hull encrusted with barnacles, yet it cut through the waves as if the tempest were but a gentle breeze. As quickly as it appeared, the phantom vessel vanished, swallowed by the darkness.

"Mary, Mother of God," Fergus whispered, crossing himself. "Did ye see that, Cap'n?"

Thunder cracked, the hair on his arms stood up, the smell of something burning filled his nose, then there was a flash. A tremendous crack, a shudder and groan as the mast splintered in two and came crashing down on the deck, sending his crew diving for cover.

There were screams as the ship pitched, and two men went overboard.

"Help me, Cap'n." The cry came from his left as Aiden spun.

It was Henry, a young lad from Nassau, pinned under part of the mast. He lunged for a crate wedged between the mast and the rail.

"Hold on, lad. I willna let the sea take ye."

He set his booted feet against the rail, his back to the splintered mast, and shoved with all his might, legs straining, as the storm threatened to destroy them all.

'Twas no use. He could not move the mast. 'Twas wedged too tightly across the deck.

The storm, the screams of the men, and the ship groaning all faded as he frantically searched for a way to save the boy.

Aiden pulled the axe from the band at his back, thankful he always slept fully dressed and armed, as he hacked at the seasoned wood, to no avail.

Waves crashed across the ship, the hull creaked and groaned, as Henry cried out. In the three years since the Siren had been his, Aiden had been through many storms, but never one such as this.

A tremendous shudder ran through the ship, a terrible cracking and then all hell broke loose as an enormous wave crashed over the Siren, breaking her in two.

Aiden grabbed for Henry but the lad's bare foot was slick with rain, and no matter how hard he struggled to grab hold of the lad's breeches, the boy slipped from his grasp, slid across the deck and was swallowed by the sea.

As the lightning faded and the dark seas closed in, Aiden barked out a laugh, welcoming the ocean into his lungs.

Bloody hell. 'Twas just his luck. Here he was, having found the map to a treasure of legend, the most coveted treasure in all the seven seas, and Davy Jones decided to call in his marker early. Damn the wicked Fates.

The salt water burned his throat even as Aiden couldn't help but appreciate the irony. He'd outsmarted naval fleets, outrun rival pirates, especially that bastard Teach, and even sweet-talked his way out of the Kraken's tentacles. Yet here he was, being dragged to the depths by his own ship's figurehead. If that wasn't a fitting end for a scoundrel like him, he didn't know what was.

As his vision blurred, Aiden's last coherent thought was that at least he'd go down in legend. The infamous Aiden Cameron, done in by his own ship and the sea herself. He'd be the talk of Tortuga for years to come. And who knows? Maybe he'd find that blasted Mermaid's Tear in the afterlife and come back with the treasure.

After all, where there's a will, there's a way, and he always did have a knack for impossible escapes.