Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

JULY 29TH, 1666

S alt air stung Captain Rowan Faine's throat as he watched the horizon of the Broken Sea. His fingers tapped a faint rhythm on the rail of his beloved ship, the Siren Song , the fastest and most agile pirate ship in the Islands. Yet it had lain at anchor in the shipping lanes between the Broken and Center Seas for a day and a night, waiting. Above, the red and white cross of distress snapped in the wind beneath a false Laslandish flag.

Rowan licked salt from his lips and tucked a wind-whipped strand of blond hair back into its tail. He was no good at waiting and neither was his crew. He could feel them growing restless at his back, eager for some unsuspecting ship to fall into their trap. The Siren was an angler fish, and those flags were their lure.

Well, that and…

"Captain!" Fox bounded up the stairs to the quarterdeck, adorned in a voluminous skirt and lace kerchief over his usual clothes. His wavy brown hair was half tied up in a tail with pieces falling across his brow. His once pale Laslandish complexion was now tanned by years of piracy, but the freckles splattered across his nose still stood out, giving him a half-innocent, half-impish air. Despite the heavy skirts that had once belonged to some rich lady they'd robbed, Fox made it up the stairs in a few long strides and skidded to a stop before Rowan .

Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.

"Fox, I told you. You don't have to wear the disguise until a ship is in sight."

Fox's face split into a grin, and he framed his chin between his hands. "But I look so pretty!" He fluttered his lashes, then did a little twirl to emphasize his point, the skirts flaring out around his ankles.

"Very pretty," Rowan's first mate Logan Crowder agreed from his station near the wheel. He wore a blue wide-brimmed hat squished down over his mop of golden curls, protecting his fair skin from the sun as much as a seafarer could. Rowan glowered at him, but he just shrugged. "What? It's the truth."

This was the other part of the lie, appearing as least like pirates as possible. And what better way to do that than by keeping a trunk of fine ladies' dresses aboard?

Out here on the open sea, Rowan was hoping to catch something big. Something that would satiate the crew's restlessness and provide enough funds to get them through the winter. It was a risk to be out here after all. They were encroaching upon the territory of the Deep Water Demon, the most brutal pirate on the seas and captain of the former Talvan warship, the Kraken's Fury .

Well, that bastard had started it.

Or had Rowan?

Rowan narrowed his eyes at the waves beyond Fox's head as Fox chattered on about how the blue skirt brought out the green of his eyes. Rowan couldn't remember when his rivalry with the Deep Water Demon had begun. Maybe it was when the Demon had started hunting Rowan's territory along the coast, or before that when Rowan had swooped in to take a prize the Kraken was too slow to catch. Or before that, or before that. Rowan could still hear the bombardment echoing like thunder through the clear night the last time the Kraken had snatched another prize from him. The flash of cannons lighting up the darkness. The Demon's reputation of ruthlessness was well earned.

But in all the years of taunting, Rowan had never come face-to-face with the Demon himself. The Demon was known for his raw power and expensive tastes. He hunted the deep waters of the open sea, targeting big game like treasure ships and loaded merchants ferrying goods and gold from Marra's and Talva's colonies to the greedy maws of the two empires. Rowan had to admit he admired the man for that. Pirating was a risk in and of itself, but going after real treasure was the stuff of legends. And with every legend Rowan heard, with every prize snatched from the sticky fingers of the empires or Rowan himself, his sense of rivalry and curiosity grew.

Was this a factor in Rowan's decision to sail directly into the Demon's own territory? Maybe. This season had been a particularly lean one because of him, and Rowan was determined to grab some of the Demon's glory and riches for himself before they had to go to ground for winter. Besides, what was life without a little risk?

Fox had begun twirling again, giggling at the way the skirt flared out and caught the sea breeze. Thank the gods he was wearing pants underneath. Last time they'd used this ruse, Fox had fought the whole battle in nothing but his skivvies after tearing off the restrictive disguise. Rowan's and Logan's eyes met over Fox's shoulder and Logan smiled ruefully, thinking the same thing Rowan was.

"How much longer do we have to wait?" Fox whined. "I'm bored."

"If you're bored, maybe you should do something useful," Logan admonished him gently.

"Yeah, but—" Fox stopped twirling, his eyes widening over freckled cheeks as something caught his eye. "Hey! Is that a?—"

"Ship!" the lookout called down from the crow's nest. Rowan spun and searched the horizon, finding three tall masts cresting over the waves. Rowan's hunting hawk, Nephele, a gorgeous gray creature with a speckled breast, spiraled down from her roost near the lookout post and alighted on Rowan's leather-clad shoulder.

"Go organize the others," Rowan ordered Fox. Fox dashed away to get other crew members, including a few actual women, into their feminine disguises. They needed to make the Siren look as innocent and civilian-like as possible, and what would be more innocent than rich ladies?

Rowan extended his spyglass and looked out over the water but couldn't make out the flag the other ship was flying. She was large though, much larger than the Siren . Perfect, they'd lure the unsuspecting ship under the pretense of needing help, then when they got close, turn on them and rob them for all they had.

The ship sailed nearer, following the wind that would carry them to the northeastern shores of Lasland. At this rate, they would pass by. Rowan raised his spyglass again, taking in the sight of the other ship. He couldn't make out details yet, but he could tell it was well-made and lacked many visible gunports. A merchant then—by the red, black, and white flag flying on its mast, a Marran one. A thread of disdain for his former homeland twisted through Rowan's gut. Finally he would snatch a prize worth having.

"Looks like they're going to pass us by," Logan said from his side, short nose wrinkling with disappointment. The rest of the crew milled about the deck pretending to work, or in the case of the gown-clad pirates, pretending to be in distress at the fact that their ship was not moving. "Should we give chase or wait?"

Rowan lowered the spyglass, glancing up at the lookout who signaled confirmation of what Rowan had observed. A Marran ship with little in the way of firepower. If they decided to chase, to swoop in under full sail, appearing like a hawk skimming the waves, then the jig would be up, the ruse abandoned. They had a good chance of catching the larger ship that way, even if they would lose the element of surprise. But if they waited, there was a chance the ship wouldn't come to investigate their distress signal, and it would all be for nothing anyway.

Rowan glanced at his first mate, and Logan smiled back, waiting for orders. Rowan needed this prize, not only for the crew but also his own restlessness that had been tugging at his insides since the last few run-ins with the Demon. He needed this. Needed to know that he was as good as, if not better than the most notorious pirate on the seas.

He turned his eyes back toward the other ship just as it diverted course, prey falling into his trap.

"We wait."

They didn't realize they'd been tricked until it was almost too late.

Rowan and his crew waited patiently as the larger ship approached, trying to seem innocent and in need of help. It was hard, considering he and the rest of the crew were practically vibrating with energy. But he kept his spyglass trained on the other ship and waited. Even if they clocked the Siren as a pirate vessel, the smaller ship would easily run them down.

Sunlight glinted off the other ship's figurehead, preventing Rowan from seeing it clearly until it was close enough to make out with the naked eye.

A kraken, its glass-embedded tentacles twisting back along the prow in ominous waves. It was no merchant vessel that sailed toward them under the Marran flag, but none other than the Kraken's Fury in all its murderous glory.

"Fuck." Rowan turned to the crew waiting below. "It's the Kraken ! Battle stations!"

A jolt of energy ran through the crew as they discarded their disguises. Half of them rushed to battle stations while the other half swarmed into the rigging to unfurl the sails. They could wait like sitting ducks to see if their ruse had worked on even the Demon, or they could try to outrun the larger ship. But what was the fun in that? The anticipation of this unexpected but not unwelcome challenge tightened Rowan's muscles. Finally he would be able to test his mettle against his rival one-on-one. Brute strength against cunning quickness.

A slow, malicious smile spread across Rowan's face. His eyes raked across the other ship, assessing the manpower and guns as Fox whooped in excitement and threw off his skirt, rushing to grab his rifle and climb into the rigging with the other sharpshooters. Nephele took off from Rowan's shoulder with a screech, soaring up to circle the sky.

Upon seeing the action of the Siren 's crew, the Kraken finally dropped its own pretense of innocence. The Marran flag came down, replaced by a white tentacled skull on a black field. Dark blue sails dropped down over the plain white ones, the same tentacled skull symbol emblazoned on the mainsail. A simple hourglass graced its bony forehead, signaling to anyone unlucky enough to cross its path that their time in this life was up.

Rowan strapped his cutlass and pistols to his side, his mind whirling through strategies even as he began giving orders. Above, the sails unfurled and caught the wind. Now that they were under sail, the crew descended into silence as they worked. Rowan had carefully chosen and trained his crew to work in near silence when engaging in battle. Not only did it keep the enemy from gauging their next move, but it also unnerved them. Rowan retrieved his bosun's whistle from his pocket and slipped the chain around his neck. Then, assessing the Kraken 's position and speed, piped directions to the crew to adjust their course.

The Kraken was bearing down on them quickly, but Rowan's little ship had the advantage when it came to maneuverability. All along the Kraken 's sides, Rowan could see hidden gunports opening. The Siren banked to starboard. The Kraken definitely had them outgunned, but did they have them outsmarted?

Now that it was clear the Siren wouldn't run, the Kraken 's momentum slowed and they turned broadside, revealing just how many cannons they really had. Two entire decks sported ten gunports each, and that wasn't counting the numerous cannons they had on the main deck—over twice as many guns as the Siren had overall.

The Siren swooped close, taunting, and the first volley of cannon fire thundered across the water, crashing just short of the Siren . The Siren darted toward the Kraken 's bow. If they were going to be in range, it might as well be somewhere that wouldn't be susceptible to the full force of the guns. The huge ship wouldn't be able to turn fast enough to deliver another broadside.

As soon as the Siren pulled out of range of the Kraken 's portside guns, they swooped even closer and fired a volley into the Kraken 's hull. Above, Rowan heard the shots of his riflemen picking off members of the opposing crew. Cannonballs crashed into the pristine wood of the Kraken's Fury, one splintering the ornate blue and gold lettering that proclaimed its name.

Rowan assessed the Kraken 's damage, contemplating whether the Demon would give up before he'd have to completely obliterate the ship. He hoped there would be something left to salvage by the end of this. It really was a beautiful ship. The kraken figurehead was ornately carved and painted, its blue tentacles trailing along the foredeck rails with little bits of glass embedded in the wood to reflect the sun. Both beautiful and practical, the same glass bits had flashed into Rowan's eyes, preventing him from realizing it was the Kraken early enough to have an advantage. Everything looked like it had been cleaned just that morning. If he didn't know any better, he'd have thought it belonged to the navy instead of pirates. It was too big. Too clean. Too beautiful .

He whistled the order to switch the top guns to a payload that would target the crew, not the ship itself. The Kraken might not be his style, but he could get good money off it if it was still seaworthy when he captured it.

The Siren turned as they reached the open water in front of the larger ship, cutting them off. On the Kraken 's deck, orders were being given, but Rowan couldn't quite make out what they were as the Siren fired another volley. The cannonballs and chain shot raked down the length of the Kraken 's deck, one hitting the foremast directly. The small projectiles fired from the top guns wreaked devastation on the Kraken 's crew.

But the Kraken was ready. Hatches within the coils of the wooden tentacles opened, exposing additional forward-facing guns. Their shots hit the Siren broadside, taking out two of their cannons.

Rowan smirked. It was just like the Deep Water Demon to counter Rowan's agile maneuvers with simple might. He didn't need to rely on clever little tactics when he could deal maximum damage from any angle. Rowan signaled to Logan, and the Siren began to pull out of range.

"Fire!" The order echoed across the water, crystal clear, and a volley of flaming arrows arched over the gap between the two ships, whizzing through the Siren 's rigging and setting one of the foresails alight. Another arrow cut through the ropes securing a cannon to the deck. Rowan and several of the crew barely managed to dive out of the way as the loose cannon rolled backwards when the Siren banked sharply starboard. Rowan rolled to his feet, blue eyes searching the sky for Nephele. The screech of her call pierced the air, and he found her wheeling high above, blessedly out of arrow range.

The smaller, more nimble Siren was literally running circles around the Kraken's Fury , causing their crew to constantly shift focus, but that didn't mean the Kraken was unprepared to deal with their antics. Every tactic Rowan tried was met with brute force. Any advantage either ship might have had was canceled out by the other's strength.

The Siren darted close again to rake the deck with more cannon-shot, but the spreading fire in the sails slowed them, filling the air with thick gray smoke. The bombardment from both ships boomed constantly over the water, cannon-shot and splinters flying in every direction. Rowan stalked across the deck, embers of flaming canvas falling around him.

The flames swarmed across the upper rigging of the Siren Song , chewing through the sails and ropes. There was shouting in the rigging as some of the crew evacuated to the deck, and the others tried to cut away the flaming foresail before the fire began to eat up the mast. The Kraken was becoming equally as hindered. Many of its crew members were down with injuries, and its once pristine sides and masts were peppered with cannon damage.

"Go help with the fire. I'll take over here," Rowan ordered Logan, taking the wheel from his hands. He would've liked to go himself, but he knew Logan would scold him for acting without thinking. Rowan liked to be in the thick of the action, but in a battle like this, he knew he needed to keep his head.

"Aye Captain." Logan started down to the main deck, then stopped and turned to look at Rowan over his shoulder. "Don't get carried away."

Rowan nodded, and Logan disappeared down the steps.

Don't get carried away . Logan knew his captain too well. Knew the gleam in Rowan's eye. Knew that his blood was up with the exhilaration of battle against the man who'd been a thorn in his side for years, and he was likely to get riled up and end up making a stupid decision.

The Siren rounded the back of the Kraken, and Logan made it to the base of the foremast just as the flames ate through the last of the lines and the foresail snapped free. Logan and several other crew members jumped away as the heavy lump of flaming canvas thumped to the deck.

Rowan grimaced but held the Siren 's course firm. They could still run before they were completely destroyed, but he had not yet given up hope that they could succeed. There had to be a way to win.

Rowan looked away from the deck where his crew swarmed to put the fires out and continue their bombardment now that they were almost side-to-side with the Kraken again. Everything in Rowan's instincts screamed at him to turn the Siren away. To run toward the open sea. But he needed this. His gaze raked across the Kraken , trying to find any weakness he could exploit.

The sight of a man standing still amidst the chaos on the Kraken 's quarterdeck stopped Rowan in his tracks. He knew instantly it was the Deep Water Demon. The man was tall, raven haired, and broad shouldered. He stood with a rifle resting over one shoulder and a saber at his hip as his crew worked in ordered chaos around him. He seemed unbothered by the way the battle was going. Confident. Maybe even bored.

A cannonball thundered through the rail to the Demon's right, splinters flying all around him. But the Demon did not flinch. He gazed at the Siren Song , cool eyes assessing.

Then his gaze found Rowan.

Something stirred in Rowan's guts as he locked eyes with his rival. Hatred? No. Grudging admiration? Certainly. But that was not all. There was something more. Something deeper and more twisted that he had no name for.

One hand still on the wheel, Rowan raised his pistol, aiming straight for the Demon's heart. The man just looked back at him with an intense curiosity. If Rowan killed the Demon here and now, would he win? Would the legend of the Ghost Hawk surpass that of the Demon? Would his lust for adventure finally be sated?

He doubted it. A simple death would be an unsatisfyingly swift end to their one-sided rivalry. He wanted the Demon to know who had bested him. Rowan would win somehow, but it wouldn't be like this.

He lowered his pistol just as the Deep Water Demon raised his gun, cocked it, and fired one single shot. It whizzed over Rowan's shoulder, scoring across the leather.

It seemed the Demon didn't feel the same way. Rowan took aim again but the Demon was lowering his gun, satisfied that his point was made. Then, resting the still-smoking barrel on his shoulder again, the Demon raised a fist.

All activity on the Kraken's Fury ceased with startling immediacy. Barely an extra shot was fired. It was eerie, how the Demon had complete and utter control of his crew.

Rowan piped the signal for a ceasefire on his whistle, and his crew obeyed. The fierce battle came to stillness and silence in a second.

It was time to see what the Deep Water Demon was made of.