Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

FEbrUARY 11TH, 1667

" H ey you!"

Rowan stopped in his tracks, turning slowly to see none other than Splinter Zanta stalking across the docks toward him. It had been over a week since he'd backed out of sleeping with her, and he had the distinct impression that she wasn't pleased. He wanted to turn the other direction and flee. But he stood rooted to the spot as if the heels of his boots had sprouted and grown between the cracks of the dock.

"Zanta," he said, steeling himself to be berated. "What can I help you with?"

"Oh, don't give me that look." Zanta stopped just a few feet away from him.

"What look?"

She smiled, her hand resting casually on the handle of one of the pistols at her hip. "You look like you're about to be scolded by your grandmother."

He glanced down at his feet, bashful.

"You're doing it again! I'm not mad at you, you know. I think I'd be a jerk if I was."

Rowan looked back up, noting the way her breath curled in the frigid air.

"I can't say I'm not disappointed," she continued, taking a step closer. "I'm sure you had your reasons, but my offer still stands if you change your mind."

"So you're not going to scold me," Rowan teased, suddenly feeling much more comfortable around her.

"Not unless you're into that?—"

"Captain!" Rowan and Zanta turned toward the familiar voice calling across the docks to see Logan sprinting toward them.

Logan slid to a stop, crashing into Zanta as his boots skidded on a patch of ice. She grabbed his arms to stop him from falling and almost collapsed along with him. They righted themselves with a lot of swearing and apologizing.

"Captain, I have to…" Logan paused, bending double and panting to catch his breath. He was windswept, exhausted, with a small pack on his back that was definitely not the one he'd left with. There was something different about him and for a moment Rowan couldn't place what it was. Then his gaze snagged on Logan's hands resting on his knees. Hands. Plural. In the place of the one he'd lost there was a beautifully carved wooden hand.

"Captain, I need to…tell you…"

"Logan, slow down. Just breathe. What happened? Did you find Cyrus?"

Logan took a few more gasps, then righted himself. "He found us. We've gotta fucking go right now. The Talvans know where we are, and they're coming."

"Fuck, how long do we have?"

"I don't know. They left before me. I got here as quick as I could."

Rowan swore again.

"We have to go. Now," Logan reiterated.

"Go round up the rest of the crew at the Crown and Lion. It's two streets down on Amelia Street," Rowan ordered. Logan dashed off, and Rowan turned the other direction to return to the Siren Song . Zanta caught his arm.

"Wait. I don't know what's going on, and you don't have to explain now, but there are civilians here. A lot of civilians. Are the Talvans really going to attack or do they just want you? Should we go too?"

"I don't know. The Talvan navy is out to get us, and a port full of pirates would be hard to pass up. I think you should go." He looked out at the harbor full of pirate ships from every corner of the Islands resting at anchor. "And warn everyone you can on your way."

"Right." Zanta squeezed his arm. "Good luck."

"You too."

They parted ways. Rowan sprinted to the ship, his lungs prickling with winter air. By the time he got there, Logan and the crew members he'd rounded up had reached the docks as well.

They were underway quicker than they'd ever been, and across the harbor, Rowan could see other ships springing to life as well. But not enough. Either Zanta hadn't gotten to many or they'd decided to take their chances instead of heeding her call. The Monsoon 's fan-like yellow sails unfurled, and he could hear Zanta's voice, clear and sharp, issuing orders.

The Monsoon fell in line behind the Siren Song , riding the tide out of Wave Harbor. As they neared the harbor mouth, Rowan's heart lifted. He inhaled the wintry salt air, savoring whatever freedom he had left. Maybe they would make it out. Maybe they would make it on time.

No.

The Siren cleared the harbor mouth and rounded the rocky outcrop that bordered the western side, only to come face-to-face with a Talvan man-o'-war lying in wait like a lioness ready to pounce.

"Divert course!" Rowan shouted, as Logan yelled "Port! Port!" but their crew had already seen and acted. The Siren veered to port toward the open sea to avoid a head-on collision. They barely missed clipping the ship's starboard bow, and Rowan could see the Talvan crew swarming over the deck and lines, preparing to strike. Above them, the Talvan five-flower flag snapped in the winter wind. The sight of it sent shivers down Rowan's spine. It was a flag that meant only death for him and his kind. The ship's green lettering purported it to be the K.S. Vaillant , and a shaggy-maned lion figurehead graced its bow, jaws yawning wide to devour its enemies.

"Ready cannons!" Rowan shouted. He didn't want to get into a battle with an actual man-o'-war, but they might as well try to get a few shots off before they fled. The two ships passed close together, and as the Siren 's gunner crews scrambled to load the cannons below deck, the Vaillant 's gun ports opened with a bang. The cannons rolled forward, and Rowan found himself staring down the black maw of the barrels at eye level on the gun deck of the much larger ship.

"Down!" Rowan ordered, and his crew hit the deck just as a volley of cannon fire raked across them. Crew members screamed among the crashing and splintering of wood, and Rowan looked up from where he lay flat on his belly on the deck. One crew member clutched a splinter wedged in his side. Rowan sprang up.

"Get him to Beckett," he barked. Henri wedged his shoulder beneath the man's arm and hauled him below deck, one hand clamped over the bleeding wound. Rowan turned to the helmsman. "Get us out of here before they reload." It felt like it was taking forever to clear the massive ship. But they'd spent their cannons on this side. Several other pirate ships fled the harbor and turned east, away from his battle with the Vaillant, but with no luck — Rowan's eye snapped to two more ships flying the five-flowers closing in. The Monsoon had turned straight south, no doubt planning to flee into Yarene waters where the Talvans would be more hesitant to follow. It was one thing to raze a warren of pirates from their own colonies; it was quite another to invade the waters of a valuable trade partner. Good. He hoped the Monsoon would make it intact.

He jumped to his feet as the gun ports on the deck below him clanked open.

At the lead gunner's order, the Siren fired a full broadside into the lower decks of the Vaillant . Rowan didn't wait to see the damage it caused; he signaled his crew into silence, and all sound from his ship ceased except for the pound of footsteps and the clank of the gunners reloading as fast as they could. Daylight was fading, and he needed to take advantage of his crew's ability to operate without verbal command. Maybe it would give them enough of an edge to slip through the navy's clutches once again.

The boom of cannon fire carried across the water from the east where the other Talvan ships were in an all-out battle with the pirates who had tried to escape. No doubt those still at anchor in the harbor had heard by now. Whether they tried to escape as well or stayed in hopes that the navy wouldn't get that far, Rowan could only guess. He hoped that they wouldn't be wiped out. Different pirate crews may not be friends at the best of times, but he didn't want to be responsible for the Talvans wiping out a dozen pirate ships in one fell swoop .

The Siren finally cleared the Vaillant 's reach and tacked south away from the coast. Away from the harbor and its treasure trove of pirate ships and bounties.

"Captain." Logan grabbed his arm and pointed due west. A forest of masts dotted the waves below the horizon. "I can't tell who that is; can you?" Logan handed the spyglass to Rowan. But the ships were too far away to tell who they belonged to. The Talvans wouldn't send their entire armada, even if they did have a chance to wipe out a large amount of pirates at once. It had to be someone else. Rowan swore under his breath. There was no doubt in his mind each and every ship out there was an enemy. If they stayed to fight the Vaillant , it would be too late to escape when the other ships arrived. Their only chance to survive was to run. He signaled to the helmsman who banked the ship harder south. Maybe they could slip the noose and make it to Yarene waters as well. That would give them some reprieve to regroup.

But the Vaillant wasn't going to release its prey that easily. They turned and pursued. The Vaillant was no match for the Siren 's speed, but they were fast for a ship that size. The Monsoon was ahead of the Siren now, having spotted the armada as well and corrected course. Despite the full broadside the Siren and Vaillant had delivered to each other, neither seemed to have sustained critical damage. It was a shame; Rowan was hoping to hinder the Vaillant and make his getaway while they floundered in the pirate-infested waters.

There was still a chance to run, but before that, Rowan wanted the Talvans to know who they were messing with.

"Hoist colors!"

The huge flag, big enough to cover Yves's massive bed in Illusion twice over, climbed up the main mast. The white skull framed by upturned wings on a black field. The flag feared above all else aside from one. His crew whooped. Ahead of them, the Monsoon 's flag went up as well, a dripping red heart pierced by a splinter.

Three smaller ships bearing the Talvan flag rounded a promontory to the northwest and Rowan realized there were several more further away as well. The Vaillant wouldn't have to catch them after all—they just had to slow them down until the rest of the fleet arrived. Rowan swore under his breath. The Siren couldn't put on any more speed. They were already utilizing the wind and current to their greatest advantage. The three smaller ships gained on them with startling swiftness. He whistled for the gun crews to reload and be ready. It looked like they would have to fight after all.

The smaller ships surpassed the Vaillant , one veering toward the Monsoon and two bearing down on the Siren . When they had just about caught up, Rowan signaled, and the Siren swung around sharply, the sails slackened for a moment before catching the wind again and propelling them between the two ships. The Talvans were caught off guard as Rowan's gunners fired chain shot into their sails and rigging. Before they knew it, the Siren had slipped out from between them and was turning again, ready to rake them once more before either of them even got a shot off.

Not far off, the Monsoon 's cannons thundered and its crew shouted, and further down the coast, the escaping pirates still battled the other navy ships. Something in Rowan thrilled at the idea that Yves's former homeland had sent this much firepower just to take him down. And there were more on the way. He raised the spyglass to the approaching armada. They were much closer now, and Rowan could just make out the red, black, and white flag of Marra. Its yellow sun blazed from between a bracket of red laurels.

So that was it. The Talvans had sent ships to take him out, the Marrans had seen an opportunity, and now they were stuck in the middle of yet another chapter of war between the two most powerful countries in the Islands. Rowan's cannons fired again as they passed one of the smaller ships. But this time the Talvans were ready. A volley of chain shot ripped through the Siren 's rigging, snapping and tangling ropes and tearing holes in the sails. The ship banked toward them, intending to ram them and end this once and for all. If the Siren was immobilized and boarded, they were done for. Especially if the Vaillant had a chance to catch up.

But the Siren was nimble; they veered away just in time. Rowan turned to give Logan orders to send the snipers up into the rigging and stopped cold. A new ship rounded the rocky promontory. A ship that was achingly familiar from the two weeks they'd spend sailing side by side. The Kraken's Fury entered the fray with its colors already flying above a bloodred flag of no quarter. Yves intended to give no mercy.

Rowan pushed down the conflicting feelings that threatened to overwhelm him and tried to return his focus to the matter at hand. But in no time, the Kraken came within range, meeting the Vaillant as it finally reached the action. Flaming arrows arched through the air to catch on the man-o'-war's sails and rigging. At the same time, another volley of the Siren 's cannon fire punched through the hull of one of the smaller ships, and it began taking on water.

The winter sun slipped down the icy sky, plunging the battle into red and orange light. The Siren left the floundering ship and bore down upon the other. Rowan whistled a flurry of orders, but his gaze continually strayed toward the spot where the Kraken was engaged in close battle with the Vaillant . The larger warship was aflame now, but it still managed to pummel the side of the Kraken with cannon fire.

The other Talvan ship drew alongside the Siren . Sailors tossed grappling hooks over the rails and tried to pull the two ships together. A hook clanged against the rail to Rowan's left and he swiftly cut the rope to disengage. He sprinted down to the main deck. The crack of rifle fire sounded overhead, and he drew his pistol, aiming for the helmsman. The deck lurched as the Siren fired another round straight into the side of the other ship, but his bullet found its mark. The helmsman fell to the deck, blood blooming on his blue and green uniform. Rowan reloaded, and the cannons continued to bombard the side of the other ship. Hot iron shredded the wooden gunports, splinters flying. Sailors rushed around the deck, officers shouting orders till they were red in the face. Yet Rowan's crew was silent.

Until Fox let out a howl from the rigging that was taken up by the pirates on deck. The eerie sound carried across the water to the Kraken's Fury and was returned with full force by their fellow pirates. The sound seemed to dampen the Talvan sailors's ability to think. They hadn't fired their cannons in a while, perhaps their gunners were all dead. The Siren 's gunners, however, were in top form. They continued their bombardment of the other ship, reloading faster and faster between every volley. The Talvans were on the back foot now. Their chain of command was disrupted, and they had no way to fight back without boarding the Siren .

With one last volley of cannon fire, the navy ship began listing to the side, quickly taking on water. In the winter weather, anyone who'd survived this long would soon freeze to death once they hit the water. A whoop of triumph echoed through Rowan's crew. Rowan looked to the west where the Marran navy still steadily approached. The Monsoon had managed to disengage from their attacker and was fleeing across the icy waves like a bird in flight, with the navy ship in pursuit. To the east, several ships were aflame but Rowan couldn't tell who was who anymore in the quickly darkening night.

The Siren turned to port, disengaging from the scuttled ship and ready to escape to open water. Rowan bounded up the steps to the quarterdeck. Behind them, the Kraken and Vaillant both blazed with fire. As he watched, the Vaillant veered to ram the Kraken with a sickening crunch. His gaze flicked over the deck, trying to spot Yves, but he was nowhere to be found amongst the chaos. Rowan lowered the spyglass, stomach churning.

He looked out to the open sea where they were headed, to freedom. The path was open but for the ship dogging the Monsoon . They could make a break for it and ride the currents to safer waters. They could leave all of this behind.

They could leave Yves and the Kraken behind.

He looked back.

"Shit." He stalked over to the helmsman, who backed off at the look in Rowan's eye. Rowan spun the wheel, turning the Siren sharply toward the ongoing battle. The two smaller ships were halfway sunken by now, the sailors either already in the freezing water or desperately clinging to the wreckage. Rowan ignored their strangled cries and chattering teeth.

Logan appeared at his side.

"Captain, we have a chance to…" He trailed off when he saw what Rowan intended. "So we're helping them then. Have you forgiven him?"

The question caught Rowan off guard. This wasn't a matter of forgiveness. He didn't have to forgive Yves to not want him to die, or worse, be captured by the Talvans and hanged in King's Square. He still respected Yves as a captain, even if he hated him.

His hand tightened on the spokes of the wheel. Who was he kidding? The world would be a duller place if Yves was no longer in it. The sea might lose its magic altogether if the Deep Water Demon no longer sailed its waters.

Besides, he'd promised they wouldn't be enemies.

Instead of answering, he said, "Stay on the ship Logan. I don't want you fighting."

Logan scowled at him. "I'm perfectly capable of fighting left-handed, and you know it. John even gave me a hook."

"John gave you…" So that's where he'd gotten the hand. And it also explained why the Kraken was here in the first place. He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. You're acting captain while I'm gone."

"Don't tell me you're going over there."

The Siren drew up to the other side of the man-o'-war, fire driving away the icy prickle of the sea air on Rowan's skin. A slow grin spread across his mouth. He drew his cutlass and raised it over his head as the Siren drew even with the tall side of the Vaillant .

"Prepare to board!" His shout rang over the crackle of the fire, stark and orange against the blackening sky. It was met with a roar from his crew. Without waiting, Rowan grabbed a charred rope that swung free from the taller ship's rigging, resheathed his cutlass, and climbed.

Pirates swarmed onto the deck of the Vaillant from both sides like a poison fog rolling in. As soon as Rowan's feet hit the deck he drew his cutlass again, slashing out at the first blue uniformed sailor who crossed his path. The man's eyes went wide with terror as Rowan skewered him through the gut. He yanked the sword back out, and the sailor fell to the deck. Rowan stepped over him.

The din of battle filled Rowan's ears, and he couldn't help that his heart swelled with elation and adrenaline at the sound. He slashed his way across the deck with Fox and Ga?l at his back. The flames roared ever higher. Rowan didn't realize he was looking for Yves until he heard it, a sound unlike any he expected to hear on the battlefield.

Laughter.

The Deep Water Demon laughed as he killed. He cut a wide swath through their enemies, saber flashing in and out of bodies so fast it was all a blur of metal and blood. Gore coated his skin and clothes. His long black hair was slicked back with blood. And he laughed. Full and rich. A laugh of pure, maniacal joy. He was terrible and beautiful, wreathed in fire and madness.

Despite everything, desire sparked low in Rowan's belly, an unyielding urge to have those bloodstained hands caress his skin. To have those bared teeth mark him. It was a wholly illogical feeling. Rowan still hadn't forgiven Yves for his betrayal, but he was overcome by the desire to be possessed by Yves, body and soul .

Yves dispatched a Talvan officer and kicked out at another, severing the tendon at the back of his ankle with the sharpened spurs on his boots. The man's scream as he fell to the deck abruptly cut off as Yves stabbed him through the eye and moved on. Grinning all the while as if killing were the greatest joy in his life.

The smoke must have been playing tricks on Rowan's eye. For he thought he saw an amorphous shadow trailing along at Yves's back, inky dark and undulating like the sea. Rowan drifted toward Yves a few steps, heedless of the danger around him.

Someone crashed into Rowan, nearly knocking him to the deck. It was Fox, nose bloodied but otherwise unharmed.

"Get your head out of the clouds!" he barked at Rowan. "You'll have plenty of time to ogle him when we're not about to die." But there was a teasing tone to his voice, and when he smiled, Rowan could see that one of his front teeth was chipped.

Rowan plunged into the fray once more, working his way toward the center of the ship. If he could find the captain or some other commanding officer, he might be able to force a surrender. What a victory that would be. The Ghost Hawk taking down a Talvan man-o'-war in the dead of winter. Sure, he'd have to share the glory with Yves, but he found he didn't mind. He'd certainly shared much more with him than that.

"Captain, the admiral!" Ga?l shouted.

Rowan turned in time to see Admiral Batteux fighting his way down the quarterdeck stairs toward them. Cyrus was nowhere to be seen. The stupid bilge rat was probably hiding below deck, afraid to face the mess he'd made.

"To me," Rowan ordered. Fox, Ga?l, and several other Siren crew members formed up behind him. They fought their way toward the center of the deck, slashing and hacking at any blue-coated sailor who got in their way. The smoke thickened, flames spreading across the rigging and deck. It was only a matter of time until it reached the gunpowder stores, and then all of them would be fucked. He'd have to make this quick.

A knot of sailors accosted them. Rowan dodged one blade, only to be slashed across the forearm with another. Fox dispatched the man with a stab through the chest, and Ga?l pulled Fox out of the way of the next man who stabbed at his neck.

"Keep going," Fox said, nudging Rowan forward. "We'll catch up." Rowan nodded and managed to stumble out of the fray, slipping on a puddle of blood on the deck. The wound on his arm was shallow, but it stung like a bitch. He dodged a pair of Kraken crew members brawling with a rather large sailor and found himself at the base of the main mast. A piece of burning sailcloth dropped at his feet, and he lurched to avoid it, crashing backwards into someone.

Yves whirled, his face a rictus of violence, almost unrecognizable. He was beautiful, but it was the beauty of death, for death was all that lit his eyes. There was no recognition in them. No indication that he knew that Rowan was a friend, not an enemy. No indication that he knew him at all.

Yves swung, his saber whistling past Rowan's face. Rowan stumbled back, automatically raising his cutlass to deflect. But there wasn't enough time. Yves slashed again, and this time it barely missed slicing Rowan's cheek open. Rowan's heel caught on a piece of debris on the deck, and he landed hard. His sword clanged across the deck, out of his grasp. Yves bore down on him. He raised his sword, and Rowan tried to scramble back, but there was nowhere to go. His back bumped up against the unstable mast.

"Wait," Rowan gasped. But his voice was barely audible over the fighting and flames.

The sword descended.

"Yves!" Rowan threw his hand up.

The sword stilled.

Rowan looked up into those cruel black eyes that glittered with reflected flames. A lock of raven hair soaked in blood fell across Yves's forehead. Their eyes locked while the battle raged around them. The flickering orange flames cast strange shadows behind Yves's towering form. He was soaked in blood and gore as if he'd bathed in it, and in the shifting light, the black of his irises seemed to consume his eyes entirely.

"Yves, please. It's me." Rowan lowered his hand so Yves could see his face. The tip of the saber remained poised at his chest, ready to plunge into his heart and end it all. Yves's brow furrowed. His bloodstained lips parted as if to speak. And a little, just a little, of the murderous intent left his beautiful face.

"We promised not to be enemies," Rowan whispered.

Between one flicker of the flames and the next, recognition entered his eyes. There and then gone again. The sword lowered slowly, metal glittering, until the razor sharp tip touched the spot over Rowan's heart.

Rowan's breath hitched. As always, he was powerless in Yves's presence. But he raised his chin and met Yves's gaze. If he would die here by Yves's hand, he would make Yves watch the light drain from his eye. Even if the lust of battle had overtaken him. If he didn't recognize him. Didn't love him. Rowan could accept death if it was Yves who dealt it.

But of course it wasn't Yves that had him pinned to the deck ready to plunge a sword into his heart. It was the Deep Water Demon. Zanta had told him that Yves was fighting like a man possessed, and now Rowan could see it with his own eye. Yves didn't even recognize him. He only saw more blood to be spilled, another body to kill.

The burning mast groaned like a dying whale. Yves's head snapped up. With this distraction, Rowan batted the saber to the side and lurched to his feet. The mast groaned again, huge sheets of burning sail falling into the writhing crowd on deck. The mast was going to collapse; he could feel the death-rattle shudder of the ship beneath his boots.

"Yves," he pleaded. But Yves only gazed up at the flames high above them and past that, the black sky full of smoke and embers and stars all glittering and deadly. There was a hand-sized smear of bare skin on his cheek, clear of blood, and Rowan resisted the urge to fill it with his own bloody print.

A jagged fissure split the mast. The deck shuddered again. The mast listed toward them, then with a great crack it split free from its base. Rowan grabbed Yves by the front of his gold-trimmed coat and yanked him to the side just as the mast crashed to the deck in the spot they had just been. They stood face-to-face, Rowan breathing heavily. They were so close Rowan could have kissed him. But any small spark of recognition was gone from Yves's eyes now. He freed himself from Rowan's clutching hands, turned, and disappeared back into the fray.

Rowan made to go after him, but the deck lurched to the side. The Vaillant was going down, and he didn't want to go with it.

" Siren ! Retreat!" His call echoed across the deck, repeated by the many voices of his crew.

Rowan fought his way back to the port rail. It was an uphill battle, the deck listing more and more to starboard, weighed down by the collapsed main mast. Fox and Ga?l met him at the rail. Below, the Siren was drawing up alongside again. When it was close enough, they climbed over the rail and used the abandoned grappling ropes to drop down to the deck. What remained of his crew followed, but so did the Talvan sailors, desperate to escape their doomed ship.

"Round them up," Rowan ordered, before bounding up to Logan on the quarterdeck. "Get us out of here."

The Siren began to pull away from the side of the burning ship. Rowan hoped Yves and his crew had the presence of mind to return to the Kraken in time. He couldn't see anything of the other pirate ship with the sinking Vaillant blocking his view. More calls for retreat echoed over the chaos on deck. Sailors began jumping into the freezing sea and swimming toward the fleeing Siren . If they survived the plunge into the icy water and could catch up, Rowan would consider mercy.

"John!" Logan's voice cut through the noise. Rowan looked up in time to see the Kraken 's first mate dive over the side of the Vaillant which was now almost fully engulfed in flames. Logan ran to the rail, his eyes anxiously scanning the dark water. John surfaced, and Logan let out a sigh of relief. Rowan threw a rope to him, and together, they pulled John up over the rail.

John collapsed onto the deck, gasping and shivering.

"Get us some blankets," Rowan ordered a passing crew member. Logan helped John sit up. "What happened? Where's Yves?" Rowan asked.

"He's fucking crazy." John's teeth chattered, and his body shivered violently, the cold winter air coating his soaked hair in frost. "He's still up there."

No. Yves was still on the ship? Why? Rowan stood. The Vaillant rode low in the water now, enough that Rowan could see onto its deck. The sailors were still in a frenzy, trying every avenue of escape from the burning wreckage. On the other side, the Kraken still crackled with flame, but she was still seaworthy. Rowan ran to the rail, searching for any sign that Yves was alive.

Fox bounded up the stairs as Logan helped John below to get warm. He caught Rowan by the shoulders, grinning despite a splatter of blood across his face and the chipped tooth.

"Did you say it? "

"What? Fox we don't have time for whatever you're talking about. I have to—" He tried to look past Fox toward the other two ships.

"No." Fox's hands tightened on his shoulders. "This is important. Did you say it? Idiot, did you tell him you love him?"

"When would I have time to?—"

A roar of flames interrupted them as the man-o'-war was completely engulfed. Rowan's gaze zeroed in on a lone figure standing still on the deck of the Vaillant .

Yves was silhouetted by the flames. He raised his arms as if he would embrace them. Over the roar of fire and screams of dying men, the Deep Water Demon laughed. He cackled like a madman, loud enough to carry over the water.

"Yves!" Rowan shouted. Desperate. If he could just get to him. Make sure he was alright— But Fox caught him again.

"The rest are coming. We have to go."

Rowan struggled against his hold, but Fox was right. The lights of navy ships loomed much closer, and more of the pirates in Wave Harbor had mobilized. The sun and laurel flags of the Marran navy swooped in from the west, and the Talvans approached from the east, ready to close in on the harbor like a frenzy of sharks who'd scented fresh blood. And the Siren Song would be caught between all of them if they didn't run. Now.

Rowan turned back but Yves was gone.

"We gotta go!" Ga?l shouted from the main deck. The sails filled with wind, speeding them away from the death and destruction.

"No!" Rowan growled. He fought Fox's grip. He had to get to Yves. He couldn't be dead. He couldn't… Fox held him tight, and he sagged to the deck. The Kraken 's flag still snapped amongst the smoke, the grinning skull eerie in the firelight, the hourglass on its forehead proclaiming that time was up. As long as that flag still waved, he could hold onto hope. Hope that Yves would make it back to the Kraken . Hope that he was alive.

The Siren Song sailed into the vast night, slipping the noose of the law once again.