Two

Tobias

Reader, Captain Vane definitely remembered Effie Ham. He'd been lying flat on his back in bed for hours, drunkenly ranting about the various deficiencies of women as a whole. "They're the worst!" he was saying now. "And you know who else is the worst?"

"Is it Bess?" Tobias asked glumly.

"She just doesn't understand me," Vane blathered. "I tried to explain that being a pirate is who I am, but she just looked me dead in the face and said, ‘You're going to die if you don't retire,' and I honestly couldn't believe how mean that was."

"That's terrible," Tobias said, because it was somehow his job to comfort this man.

Technically, Tobias's job was to be the ship's navigator. He was good at it. His crewmates liked to call him "the Artist," as if his reading maps and understanding ocean currents were a mystical art, rather than a science. Tobias didn't mind the nickname. He liked maps; the way they transformed the chaos of the unknown world into the order of the known. If you could read maps, then you always knew where you were—and where you were going.

But the maps on this ship were kept in the captain's cabin.

Which meant that now Tobias was, unfortunately, playing babysitter/therapist for the mopiest captain to ever sail the seven seas.

"Pirates don't retire," Vane ranted on. "She can't just tell me to choose between her and my ship. I should be able to have it all!"

"Of course you should," Tobias agreed.

"I mean, have I ever asked her to give up being a madam? No!"

"Land ho!" came the call from outside.

"Oh thank God," said Tobias.

"Oh no," Vane rasped. "Are we there already?"

Tobias lurched to his feet. "Perhaps he was mistaken. I'll check." He stepped out onto the main deck and looked to the horizon, where the lookout was pointing from the crow's nest. Sure enough, Tobias saw a dark smudge there, where the sea met the sky, and within a few minutes, that smudge became the familiar shape of the island of New Providence.

He smiled, relieved. Finally, they were coming home.

Tobias returned to the cabin and began rolling up and putting away his maps and charts.

"So we're there?" Vane surmised.

"Aye, Captain."

Vane took a long swig of banana rum and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He grimaced. "I don't know how I'm going to face her."

"Didn't she say she never wanted to see you again?" Tobias reminded him.

"Yes, but perhaps she'll have seen reason, since I've been at sea risking my life and well-being for her , you know? Bringing back this bounty, for her!" Vane went to gesture at all the treasure he'd gathered, but then realized it was (this time, anyway) only a humongous pile of bananas. He shook his head sadly. "I know I'm getting up there in age, but I can't retire, Toby. What would I do without this?"

Tobias fought the urge to say what he really thought. First of all, he knew Bess, and she was a good woman, and she was also a pretty good madam (not that Tobias knew such things firsthand, but that was her general reputation), and she didn't need Vane's stinking bananas. She'd been good for Vane when they were together. She'd tempered him somehow.

Secondly, Vane was getting old, about thirty-six now, Tobias reckoned, and he couldn't name a single pirate over the age of forty.

Thirdly, there was plenty a man could do, in Tobias's opinion, if he couldn't be a pirate. Tobias knew what he would do. He thought about it all the time. He'd love to retire from piracy, but he was only nineteen, and certain things were expected of him.

"Bring her in easy, DuPaul, and try not to scrape anyone like last time!" came Mary's voice just above them, barking orders from the quarterdeck.

Vane gazed down into his lap, momentarily ashamed that Mary was doing his job. Then he straightened up. "Mr. Read's too soft. He should not have contradicted me on the Chango . And over a woman! He made us look weak."

"Oh, I don't think—"

"He doesn't want to keelhaul people. He stands up for women, but you know, I don't think I've ever seen him with a lass. Doesn't he like women?"

"Uh." Tobias thought fast. "Sure, I've seen Mark with women. So many women. He leaves a trail of broken hearts in his wake, one after another. Yep. That man's a serial heartbreaker. Nassau is just full of women he's courted and cut ties with. If they don't speak of it, it's because they can't bear to."

Vane narrowed his eyes. "Is that so?"

"Yes," Tobias said urgently. "It is so. But Mark doesn't kiss and tell. He's very private."

"If you say so." Vane took another swig of rum.

Whew. That had been awfully close.

"I'll be staying on the ship," Vane announced. He took another drink. "I can't risk seeing Bess."

"Yes, Captain." Tobias thought this was probably wise.

"Oh, and see to the blasted meeting," Vane mumbled just as Tobias was about to flee the room.

Tobias paused. "Meeting, sir?"

Vane gestured to the bedside table, upon which was a rolled-up piece of parchment. Tobias unrolled it and read the fancy pirate script. (Reader, it was cursive.)

Calling all ye Prestigious Pirate Captains , it read. A meeting of the most Serious Nature, to discuss the Future of Piracy. The Scurvy Dog, on the seventeenth of the Month, seven o'clock. Be there or be Keelhauled . Warmest regards, The Pirate King .

Tobias glanced up. "The future of piracy?"

"Back in the day, being a pirate meant something," Vane said mournfully. "Gold ran like water. Rum flowed like, um, water. People respected us. Feared us. And now they see us as a nuisance or a joke. Indeed, it wouldn't surprise me, lad, if someday soon there are no true pirates in the world, just pretenders who like to dress up in ‘comely pirate costumes' once a year and prance about seeking booty." He sighed. "Maybe I should retire."

Tobias nodded. "But you won't be attending this meeting?"

"Get Mr. Read to do it. And you'll be going, too, so I'll be well represented."

"I'll be going?" Tobias asked, alarmed. "Why would I be going?"

"Read the postscript."

Tobias glanced at the parchment. Sure enough, at the bottom was scrawled an extra message: Toby, ye come, too.

Of course. Tobias sighed. "Yes, I'll go, then. To see what he wants."

When he came out onto the deck again, the ship was already docked in its usual place in the harbor. The old fort on the hill loomed over the jumble of ramshackle buildings and palm trees that made up the town. Tobias could already hear the rowdy noise of it—raucous singing, dogs barking, and the occasional sound of a woman laughing. The air had a distinct fishy, rummy, man-sweaty smell. Tobias breathed it in deep, simultaneously repulsed and comforted by the stink. It wasn't a grand place, to be sure, but it was Nassau—aka Pirate Paradise, aka the Swashbuckling Capital of the World. Aka the only real home Tobias had ever known.

He hurried to the officers' quarters. Mary was already there, digging through a trunk. Tobias's heart gave a lurch at the sight of her. Unfortunately, at the same time, the ship also gave a lurch, and Tobias tripped and fell—as though he hadn't spent practically his whole life aboard one ship or another.

"Toby!" Mary hurried over, having no problems whatsoever with the motion of the Ranger . "You hurt?"

"Only my pride," Tobias admitted. "Hopefully no one else saw that."

Mary reached a hand down and—when Tobias took it—helped him to his feet. In those few seconds of contact between them, Tobias felt the familiar spark flare inside him. He liked Mary. Liked liked, if you know what we mean. And how could he not? Mary was amazing: strong and fast, clever and loyal.

But liking her was as far as anything could go. The risk of her being found out was too great.

"Gah." Mary snatched her hand back and wiped her palm on her trousers. "You're all sweaty."

And then there was that. She didn't like him the same way he liked her. Every time he thought he felt a connection, every time he found himself gazing into those sea-blue eyes a little too long, she pulled back, pulled away, and he remembered where he was.

If their relationship were a map, the little Tobias figure on the page would be squarely in the place Mary kept her friends.

Which was fine, he told himself. Totally fine.

"Ready to go?" Mary asked as Tobias threw his belongings into his bag.

"Aye." Tobias slung his bag over his shoulder, and within minutes, they were down the gangplank and heading into Nassau.

The town wasn't much to look at, just the several simple shacks and salt-sprayed storefronts where charlatans sold seashells by the seashore. (Your narrators offer our sincerest apologies to our audiobook narrator.) They were in one of the dodgier parts of a town that was entirely dodgy. It was actually pretty dangerous to walk the streets here. But this was one area where Tobias wasn't afraid. Pirates generally didn't mess with him, given that his father was the most infamous pirate in history.

Which reminded him—"There's a meeting tonight," he said to Mary as they began their long stroll toward home, handing her the roll of parchment he'd taken from the captain. "Vane says you're to go in his stead."

"No," Mary groaned. She read the paper. Scoffed. "The future of piracy?"

"I know," he said.

"And he wants to see you," she added, pointing to the postscript.

"Apparently." Tobias sighed.

"He probably just wishes to know if you're well." She gave him a sympathetic smile as they turned a corner. "You're his son, after all."

"Yes, it's not like he doesn't have scores more of us," Tobias replied dryly. It was true, his father had many sons—something like fifty-two, that Tobias knew of, and yet Tobias managed to be both the most disappointing and the most trusted of his pa's spawn.

"You're coming back aboard the Revenge !" the old man had declared the last time they'd spoken. "You've had your adventures on your own, but enough is enough. You belong at my side, not hunched over a bunch of maps taking orders from a lesser captain. Come with me, and we can rule this ocean as father and son! And when I'm gone from this world, you'll be the Pirate King, and your name—my name—will inspire terror!"

Tobias wasn't especially interested in inspiring terror. He really wasn't interested in being the Pirate King. He'd said so, and then his father had boxed his ears like he was still a lad.

"You're mad!" Tobias had yelled then, pushing him away. "Leave me alone! I like being on the Ranger . IT'S MY LIFE, blast it all! Not yours!"

It was so cringeworthy, when he thought back on it. Not that it wasn't true. He'd spent years on the Revenge in his father's shadow, and he'd never truly felt at home there. The Ranger , in spite of Vane's flaws, was better. Because there Tobias could be his own man. And because of Mary. But what he'd said about his father being mad (aka crazy)—well, that had been cruel. Everyone knew that the infamous captain had been slowly losing his mind for years, a side effect of the "French disease" (or what the French liked to call the "English disease"), aka syphilis. But Tobias should never have said it. He'd been feeling bad about it ever since. Perhaps, at this meeting he was going to, he'd be able to apologize.

He just had to figure out a way to do it that didn't make him look weak.

" All will be well," said Mary, although how could she possibly know that?

He tried to laugh off his own anxiety. "I might duck out along with everyone else at the end of the meeting and avoid the whole postscript part of the note. He can't get angry at that. I'll show up. That is all he required."

Her lips pursed; she disapproved of this plan. "You should talk to him, Toby. Clear the air. Trust me, I know what it's like to deal with a father who can't hope to understand you."

This was the first time she'd ever spoken of her family to him. "Oh?" he said, struggling to keep his tone casual. "Was your father also a terrifying, powerful, and overbearing narcissist?"

"Something like that," she said mysteriously.

He wanted to ask more questions, but more than that, he wanted her to tell him on her own. She could trust him with her secrets. He'd keep her heart safe. She needed to see that for herself, though, so he wouldn't push.

Mary jogged ahead to the small shack where they lived when they were ashore. "We're here!" She unlocked the door and stepped inside, then crossed to the window and drew back the curtains. A beam of light shot through, hit their rickety old table, and the table fell over. "Home sweet home," she said.

Tobias glanced at Mary.

She sighed and nodded. Yes , her look said, a new table. Soon.

For now, Tobias jammed a peg leg back on the table and coughed at the dust floating in the air. It'd been weeks since they'd been here. But as shacks in Nassau went, this one was tidier than most. small cots were set along opposite walls at the far end of the room, each neatly made up with a woolen blanket and a single feather pillow. A trunk lay at the foot of each bed.

"I want to change clothes before the meeting," Mary said. She gave her armpits a sniff. "And get a quick wash. I smell like a bilge rat."

Tobias snorted. "It's not that bad. But I agree. Fresh clothes wouldn't hurt either of us."

He set about drawing the curtain around the small wash area—which held a tub, basin, and chamber pot—while Mary grabbed their bucket and went to get some water.

Initially, Tobias had been worried about living with a girl, but that was mostly because he hadn't known many before. It turned out that Mary was content to live just like he did, needing only four walls, a roof, and a private space to do her private business.

So he'd hung a curtain on rollers, allowing them to section off a space for general hygiene. And when she'd explained that she needed certain... accommodations once a month, he'd been able to procure rags that could be boiled clean after use. Finally, he'd taken charge of cutting her hair when they were home, because hers was unusually shiny, and it grew so fast it was sure to give her away if they didn't manage it.

It was easy here, at home where it was just the two of them. On the ship, Tobias had to make sure the head was empty before Mary went in, stall anyone who wanted to relieve themselves until Mary was finished, and run other kinds of interference—especially when the need for clean rags came up while they were out at sea. And if Mary was any crankier those weeks, no one on the Ranger noticed. As far as Tobias could tell, it just made Mary even more of a pirate.

The door opened and closed as Mary returned with a bucket of water. "I'll only be a moment," she said. "Then you can have a turn."

"Take your time." While Mary disappeared behind the curtain, Tobias slung his bag onto his bed and unpacked his clothes, his journal, and a modest roll of maps he'd been working on. The clothes went into the trunk, the maps were tacked onto the wall over his head, and the journal went under his pillow.

Then he turned his attention to the small bookcase in the corner, crammed from top to bottom with books. He had a new book they'd taken off a ship a while back, by a fellow named Daniel Defoe. Robinson Crusoe , it was called, about a man trapped on a deserted island. Tobias couldn't wait to dig into it.

That had been one of the first things that he and Mary had found in common. They loved books. They'd spent many a night in this shack (or on the ship) curled up in their separate corners, reading. Sometimes they even read a book out loud, together, passing it back and forth between them.

"It's all yours," Mary said, appearing from behind the curtain. Her face and hands were freshly scrubbed, her clothes clean, and her hair combed and tied back.

Before he crossed the line from looking to staring, Tobias grabbed his change of clothes and went to take care of his business.

"We should get going," Mary said when he emerged. "The day is fading fast, and the Scurvy Dog will be crowded later. I want to get a good seat."

For what was sure to be the circus, she meant, of his father's meeting.

"If we must." Tobias would like nothing better than to stay here in the shack tonight, cook a little dinner, and, yes, read his new book.

"I think we must," Mary said.

"Fine. But I can't promise to enjoy it," he acquiesced, and was rewarded with the faintest of her smiles.