Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

NOVEMBER 17TH, 1666

R owan was woken silently by Logan shaking his shoulder. He was alert immediately, but the ship was dark and too quiet.

"What is it?" he asked his first mate, already scrambling out of bed and pulling on his clothes.

"Lookout spotted a navy vessel dogging us. Looks like Talva," Logan said calmly.

"What time is it?" It was pitch black outside the window, and he felt like he hadn't been sleeping long. Nephele grumbled from her perch and stretched her wings.

"Two in the morning."

"How long have they been following?" Now dressed, Rowan buckled on his sword belt and pistols on his way out the door. Logan followed.

"Two hours since we spotted them."

"And you didn't wake me?"

Logan's mouth twisted to the side. "You needed sleep."

That was true enough. Rowan hadn't been sleeping well after the way he'd left things with Yves two months ago. His bed felt empty, and every time he saw Logan a pang of guilt sliced through him for missing the man who had caused Logan's injury. He should have protected his friend. He shouldn't have gotten himself so wrapped up in Yves's charms. But he couldn't help it; awake or asleep, the Deep Water Demon was never far from his mind.

Even now with the navy ship on their tail, his thoughts turned back to Yves.

They emerged onto the deck to a hive of near-silent activity in the dark. The crew had been roused, the lamps doused. Rowan smiled to himself. He'd trained them well, and they moved like ghosts through the night, only the creaking of the ship and the shush of the waves could be heard. Fox appeared at Rowan's side and placed a spyglass in his hand.

"Five o'clock, Captain."

Rowan directed the glass toward where Fox indicated. It wasn't hard to find; even in the vast darkness of the nighttime sea, Rowan could tell it was following in the wake of the Siren Song . They weren't hiding; the ship was lit up like a festival, under full sail and flying the blue, green, and white five-flower flag of the Talvan empire.

Rowan couldn't help the pang of disappointment he felt. He'd half hoped it would be the Kraken .

"Why are they so lit up?" He handed the glass to Logan to take a look. "If they're tailing us, wouldn't they want to be sneaky about it?"

"They are quite a bit bigger," Logan said, lowering the glass. "A ship like that doesn't have to rely on stealth. But maybe they haven't marked us as pirates yet."

"Maybe they're just stupid," Fox suggested.

Rowan pursed his lips, looking up to where his flag snapped on the main mast. A skull on a field of black, framed by white hawk's wings. Could the other ship see it in the dark? Did they know who they were following?

"Think we can outrun them?" Fox asked. A few of the crew members nearby stopped what they were doing to listen. Rowan ticked over the options in his head. They could run. They probably should run. Slip into the darkness without a sound. Live up to the name Ghost Hawk. There was no material benefit to taking on a warship. The only thing that fight was good for was his reputation.

"What's our position?"

"A few miles west of The Teeth, Captain," the navigator answered.

An idea sparked in Rowan's mind .

"Perfect, we'll keep it quiet and dark, try to lose them between The Teeth. If that doesn't work we'll outrun them on the other side."

All was still for a moment before Logan said, "Well? You heard the captain, get to it." His calm, commanding voice carried across the deck, and the crew silently jumped to their tasks.

"I've lost their trust," Rowan muttered under his breath so only Logan could hear.

Logan clapped his remaining hand on Rowan's shoulder. "You'll earn it back in no time," he said brightly. There was no denying the crew was a little on edge about how they'd departed Illusion, and it pained Rowan to think he'd done anything that made the crew lose faith in him. They were his family. The only family he had, and he had to protect them at all costs.

"So fucking persistent," Rowan spat.

As soon as the Siren Song had picked up speed, cutting silently through the waves, the navy ship stopped their game of keeping distance. They closed in more quickly than Rowan anticipated. The fact that they weren't hiding it at all nagged at him. There had to be some other tactic at play here. The navy had certain rules of engagement, but those niceties didn't apply to pirates. If you were a pirate, you couldn't expect mercy. The navy would run you down and slaughter you in a heartbeat if they could. But that didn't mean they had to be straightforward about it.

The Siren banked starboard and entered the channel between the first two islands that made up The Teeth. Just like their name, the archipelago contained a smattering of small islands uninhabited even by plants. Their white rocks jutted up from the waves like punched out teeth. They were quite useless for both habitation and resources, but still, the perpetually warring empires of Marra and Talva had fought over them on and off during their various wars. Now they were littered with the debris of long ago naval battles, gull shit, and nothing more.

As the Siren wove between the islands, Rowan looked back to see if their pursuer still followed.

The ship was close. So close that Rowan could see the details of the figurehead and flags adorning the prow and masts. It was Talvan navy alright, and he recognized it as the K.S. Glorieux , a notorious pirate hunter. Good. They'd had a few run-ins with it before. He knew the ship's capabilities. Between him and Logan, they could manage to outmaneuver it and be home free.

The Siren still sailed in silence in the dark, but now he could hear the officers of the Glorieux calling orders. Rowan piped the orders for their next maneuver on his whistle, and the crew obeyed. The channels thus far had been deep enough for the much larger warship to follow, but Rowan knew that these waters could be perilous, especially in the dark. Sandbars between the islands shifted with the currents and tides, and you never knew when you would run aground. At least the islands themselves were easy to see, the white rocks almost glowed in the faint light of the waning moon.

They passed close to the largest island on the port side. Rowan knew there was a shallow sandbar between it and the next island over, one that was too shallow even for the Siren to pass unscathed. But if he could maneuver them just right, the Siren could pass through a small section of deeper water close to the rocks and come out on the other side without their pursuers in tow. Above, Rowan's crew worked in the rigging like silent unseen birds. As the bow cleared the white edge of the rocks, the Siren tacked sharply to port. Rowan held his breath, waiting for the telltale scrape of sand on the hull that would tell him it hadn't worked and they were beached. Beside him, Logan cocked his head to listen as well.

A faint scrape came from the starboard side, the sound of the hull rubbing against a bank of waterlogged sand. Rowan glanced over the rail, but it was impossible to see anything beneath the black water. A few of the crew dug out poles in case they had to try to dislodge the ship from the edge of the sandbar. They waited.

But the Siren didn't catch; it glided past the sandbar, and the faint scrape of sand fell away as they escaped it. Rowan exhaled slowly, relishing this small victory in silence, then turned to watch the Glorieux . The larger ship turned to follow, but it was obvious they didn't know about the sandbar. Rowan smiled as the ship first slowed, then stopped all together, listing slightly to the side as they beached themselves like a depressed whale on the hidden sand. The distant figures of the crew scuttled around frantically trying to get the Glorieux dislodged. The Siren continued on, leaving their enemy behind. Just a little while longer and they would be home free, out on the open water again. They could be out of sight by the time the Glorieux managed to get free.

By the time they spotted the second ship, it was too late.

No sooner had the Siren sailed free of the shelter of The Teeth than a sharp whistle of alarm split the air. Rowan's head whipped around, spotting the threat immediately. It was another Talvan warship, bigger by far than the Siren and armed to the gills with cannons and soldiers. Rowan didn't even have the chance to begin shouting orders before a barrage of cannon fire hit them dead on, splintering the newly repaired wood. Shit. It had been a trap after all. And he'd played right into their hands, while thinking he'd outsmarted them.

The gun ports of the Siren banged open, but they hadn't been ready—only one was loaded, and the cannonball did little damage as it crashed through the other ship's rail. The soldiers were already readying grappling hooks as the Siren pulled up alongside. Rowan shouted for the helmsman to turn. They could still make a run for it. Maybe they could double back and lose this new threat in the labyrinth of The Teeth too.

Another volley of cannon fire rocked the Siren , and the first grappling hook was thrown over the small gap between the two ships. It caught on the rail followed by several more.

"Prepare to be boarded!" Rowan shouted to his crew. There was no use for silence and secrecy anymore. Not when they were going to have to fight their way out of this. Rowan drew his pistols and fired upon the men who were hauling the two ships closer. He heard gunfire from the rigging and knew that Fox was up there picking off as many enemies as he could before they could get across the gap. But if there was one advantage the navy had over a band of pirates, it was numbers. The men who fell were immediately replaced by more sailors. And the two ships were inevitably drawn together like two moths to the flame of battle.

Rowan drew his cutlass as the sides of the two ships crashed together, the outer rigging tangling. His men fell upon the assailants with screeching cries, but they were no match for the waves and waves of sailors. Rowan sprinted down the stairs to the main deck and joined the fray, slashing with the razor-sharp edge of his cutlass and stabbing with the dagger in his left hand. The constant report of gunfire sounded from the rigging above.

Rowan dodged the butt of a rifle that swung at his face and gutted the man carrying it. He sheathed his knife, grabbed the gun, and fired into the face of the next enemy behind him before discarding it. The air was alive with the smell of gunpowder and blood. Flames bloomed somewhere on the ship, lighting the darkness with crackling orange. He heard the thump of bodies falling to the deck but couldn't pause long enough to see who they were. All that mattered was the next enemy, the next blood to whet his sword.

Stinging pain sliced across his thigh, and he stumbled. Hands reached out of the fray, and before he knew it, the barrel of a gun pressed cold and hard to his forehead.

"Lay down your arms, or we kill the Ghost Hawk!" a commanding voice shouted. And suddenly all was still but for the dancing flames and shadows.

Rowan locked eyes with the man who had spoken, glaring defiance at him even as his own crew was quickly disarmed. He wanted to shout. To tell them not to surrender. That it was better to die fighting than to meet your end on the gallows. But two more sailors disarmed him and bound his hands in front of him. He couldn't tell what was happening behind him, but there was yelling from below deck as the sailors tried to root out the rest of the crew.

Rowan winced as he was pushed roughly to the deck. The rope that bound his wrists was too tight, and he was already losing feeling in his hands. The cut on his thigh roared in pain, much deeper than he'd first thought. Logan's knees thumped to the boards beside him.

"You okay, Captain?" he murmured.

"For now. You?"

Before Logan could answer, a pair of shiny boots came into view. Rowan looked up at a man who looked to be in his late thirties, decked out head-to-toe in the crisp blue and green uniform of the Talvan navy. His brown hair was pulled back into a tail and tied with a satin ribbon. He looked like the sort of man who'd always had everything handed to him on a silver platter. The kind of man who thought the advantage of his birth deserved all the rewards the world could offer.

The kind of man Rowan hated more than anything .

"The infamous Ghost Hawk, I presume," the man said with a clipped Talvan accent.

"And you are…" Rowan's eyes landed on the insignia on the uniform's left breast. "A rear admiral? Pity, I was expecting at least a vice." Rowan scoffed.

The admiral's neck flushed red. From his angle, Rowan had a clear view past him into the rigging and beyond it, the night sky. Two shadows of deeper darkness flitted across the upper rigging between the two ships, unnoticed by the soldiers below.

"A filthy pirate has no right to judge his betters. We captured you with just two ships, a fleet would have been excessive."

Rowan quirked an eyebrow and chuckled. He had to put on a confident face. He would think of a way out of this. He had to. "You've captured me, but you haven't won until I'm dead. How are you expecting to achieve that?"

"No man is immortal. Least of all you. You won't be laughing when you're on the gallows in King's Square."

Rowan rolled his eyes. "You're pretty talkative for a navy man. How'd you make rear admiral so young? Your rich daddy buy it for you?"

There was a faint gasp from the officer at the admiral's side, and suddenly the tip of the admiral's ceremonial sword was at Rowan's throat.

"What do you know about my father?" the admiral snarled. "What did the Demon tell you?"

"What? The Demon?" Rowan didn't have to fake the surprise in his voice. Why was a Talvan admiral asking him about Yves? Did the authorities know they were connected? And what did Yves have to do with this man's father?

"My name is Admiral Batteux," he said as if that name should mean something to Rowan. The blade dug into Rowan's skin, and a trickle of blood slipped down his neck. "Where is the Demon?"

Rowan swallowed, collecting his wits. Logan was by his side. His crew—those who had survived—were corralled below deck as far as he knew. He could get out of this, he just needed time to think.

"Haven't met the man myself," Rowan replied, trying to inject as much confidence into his voice as possible. "But I heard he's quite vicious. If your father crossed him, good luck to the poor bastard."

"I know you're working with him," Batteux growled. Rowan knew he probably shouldn't be so coy with a sword to his throat and the Siren captured, but it wasn't in his nature to be anything else.

But how could this man know that Yves and Rowan knew each other?

"If you want him so bad, why not go after him instead of me? I don't know the Demon, and I certainly don't know where he is." That last part was true at least. Yves could be anywhere by now.

Admiral Batteux's silence was too telling.

"You don't think you can beat him, do you?" Rowan smirked. "So what? I'm just the easier target?"

A malevolent smile lit Batteux's face. "Does that hurt your pride, little pirate?"

A few months ago it would have. Before meeting Yves, the thought that the navy considered the Deep Water Demon a bigger threat than him would have filled him with boiling jealousy. But now…now it made him miss that devious bastard even more.

Rowan couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up to the surface. It built to a full on cackle, as loud and audacious as Fox's laugh. He stared Batteux directly in the eye and laughed like a madman, the very picture of a half-crazed, murderous pirate captain.

He laughed even as the sword slashed across his cheek in an X, blood running down his face like tears.

Logan shouted, struggling against several sailors holding him back.

"I won't tell you shit," Rowan said, bloody teeth barred. "I hold no quarrel with my fellow pirates. My enemy is your corrupt fucking government. So if you find the Demon, be prepared to burn in his fire." His eyes never left Batteux's face. Though he desperately wanted to look at Logan, to make sure his friend was okay.

Batteux leaned in close and set the tip of the bloodied sword against Rowan's cheekbone just below his eye.

"That bastard killed my family in cold blood," he hissed. "It's he who will burn. And so will you. If you won't tell me the location of his hideaway, I can torture it out of you. Maybe the Demon will come running if he hears his little toy cry."

Rowan blanched. A hideaway? How did they know about that?

"He won't come for me." But his confidence was wavering. If Yves heard he was in trouble…would he come? Would he get himself ca ptured to save Rowan? Rowan couldn't bear to think about what would happen if Yves was captured too.

"I think he will," Batteux said. "So let's make you cry." The blade dug into Rowan's cheek, and he realized suddenly what Batteux meant to do. He jerked back, but Batteux caught him by the hair and forced his head forward again. Somewhere off to his right, Logan screamed his name, and there was a commotion from below deck where the rest of the crew was being held.

"Stop—" The sword sliced a millimeter deeper into his face, slow and agonizing.

"Tell me where he is," Batteux hissed.

"No," Rowan ground out between gritted teeth.

The blade dug into his eye socket, searing pain lancing through his head like lightning. One side of his vision went dark. Rowan bit his tongue, barely holding back the scream that was desperately clawing its way up his throat. He would not show this man weakness. He would not?—

BOOM!

Batteux flinched, cutting the outer corner of Rowan's eyelid as he whirled toward the source of the noise. Rowan wavered, lightheaded. Blood gushed down his face, and soaked into the collar of his shirt.

But from his one eye, even he could see the navy ship was on fire, and silhouetted against the flames were two familiar figures.

Fox and Ga?l.

"Capture them! Put out the fire!" Batteux shouted, red-faced with rage. He turned back to Rowan, sword raised, but Logan broke free from his captors and rammed into Batteux, sending him sprawling. He snatched up the dropped sword and turned to kneel by Rowan's side, quickly cutting his bindings.

"Captain, you okay?" He rested the stump of his arm on Rowan's shoulder to steady him, still clutching the sword with his other hand.

"Fine. I'm fine."

But he wasn't. Overwhelming pain pounded through his head like thunder, and he couldn't see out of his right eye. His hands shook uncontrollably as he touched the wound tentatively. Fuck. His fingers came away bloody.

Behind Logan, Batteux regained his footing. He looked uncertain for the first time, his hair half falling out of the orderly tail and his uniform askew .

"Get them," he ordered, but most of his crew had abandoned their posts to fight the fire on their own ship. Shouting and gunshots sounded from below deck as the pirates rebelled against their captors. Batteux's face twisted in rage. He drew a knife from his belt and stalked toward them.

"Filthy mongrels," he snarled.

"Captain!" The shout was Fox's voice, but it was not him who jumped in front of the slashing knife. The blade cut across Ga?l's broad chest, flaying open his shirt and skin. He barely flinched as he grabbed Batteux's wrist, twisting until the knife dropped to the deck with a clang. Fox rushed up behind and locked Batteux in a chokehold.

Logan tried to help Rowan to his feet but the pain in his head sharpened. The remaining half of his vision swam. He fell back to his knees on the deck. Around him, his crew was fending off the remaining navy sailors. Rowan gripped Logan's arm. "I'm fine. Go. Win."

With a last worried glance, Logan stood and began issuing orders. They had the advantage now, and they were going to take it.

"Man the guns!"

Rowan struggled to his feet, pushing through the pain as best he could. He managed to stumble to where Ga?l and Fox were about to gut Batteux as the first volley of cannon fire plunged into the side of the navy ship, and other crew members disengaged the grappling hooks from the rails.

Rowan grabbed Ga?l's arm.

"Stop. I need to ask him something," he panted.

Ga?l lowered the knife, instead gripping Rowan by the elbow to keep him upright even though blood poured down the front of his own shirt from the gaping wound on his chest. Rowan turned to Batteux, leveling him with a steely one-eyed gaze.

"Who told you those things about me and the Demon?" he asked. "Why do you think he has a hideout?"

Batteux smirked at him. "Your men aren't as loyal as you think they are."

Rowan took a shaky step forward, taking the knife from Ga?l's hand. He placed it against Batteux's cheek in the same spot as Batteux's sword had rested against his. "Who? Tell me, and I might let you live." Rowan's patience had reached its limit. He was in pain, running on only a few hours of sleep, and he felt like he was going to pass out.

The sky lightened with the rising sun as another cannon volley hammered into the navy ship at point-blank range. It listed to one side, no doubt it would sink soon.

"You're done for," Rowan said. "At this point your only hope is my mercy."

Fox's arm tightened experimentally around Batteux's throat. "Answer the damn questions," he growled. Batteux struggled for breath for a moment, slapping at Fox's arm before the pirate loosened his hold again.

"Cyrus. His name is Cyrus," he gasped.

Fox's arm went slack in shock, and Batteux bolted toward the side of the ship.

Ga?l lunged forward but only managed to catch the tails of Batteux's coat. Batteux shrugged out of it and leapt over the side of the ship into the sea.

"Fuck! Sorry, Rowan. Sorry. Shit." Fox swore.

But the last of Rowan's strength was drained. He stumbled, and Fox rushed forward to keep him from falling.

"Take me to Robin," Rowan panted. Fox nodded, handing him off to Ga?l's waiting arms so they could both go below to the infirmary. "Tell Logan to get us out of here before the Glorieux un-beaches itself."

"You okay, Captain?" Ga?l asked, as if he himself was perfectly fine and not half flayed open on Batteux's sword.

"I just…" Rowan's depleted vision swam again, and the last thing he saw was Ga?l's worried face as the last of his vision faded.