Chapter 22

  “You wished to speak with me, Captain Harding?” Naomi asked as she entered Jonathon’s cabin.

  “Yes. Please, come in and sit,” Jonathon replied, gesturing to one of the chairs at his table. The two took a seat and Jonathon continued. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while now. How have things been on the ship? How have you been adjusting?”

  It had been two weeks since they had corrected their course for the island, but Jonathon had yet to have this conversation with the girl. He kept telling himself he had too much to do, but he knew he just didn’t want to have the conversation. He didn’t want to have to argue the life he and his crew had chosen to someone who had asked to join them. Partly because he felt like it shouldn’t be his responsibility, given she put herself in the situation, but also partly because he knew she had no choice but to accept it at this point. And Jonathon didn’t like the idea of forcing his lifestyle on someone who didn’t wish it. In a strange way, he felt it went against the entire philosophy of being a pirate in the first place. But, as Cassandra had been so quick to remind him almost every night for the past two weeks, he had to have this conversation with her at some point, and so, here they were.

  “I am adjusting well enough, Captain Harding,” Naomi said after a moment of reflection. “Cassie has been very helpful in teaching me the many nuances of your way of life and of life out on the sea. I would be lying if I were to say I did not miss my home most nights, but I stand by my decision to join you on this journey.”

  Jonathon smiled at the girl. “I’m glad to hear that.” He paused as he braced to ask the question he’d been avoiding. “How do you feel about our raid on the trade vessel after leaving Brightstone? Is there anything we need to talk about?”

  Naomi’s polite expression turned somber as her brows turned upward and her lips formed a subtle frown. “Regarding the trade vessel outside of Brightstone…” she paused, and Jonathon began preparing the various arguments he’d likely have to use. “…while I cannot say that I am comfortable with killing and stealing from others just to bring fortune upon ourselves, I have spent many nights discussing the matter with your quartermaster and I have come to accept that this sin is one I must accept, having taken a spot on your ship and in your crew. I cannot say it does not bring me pain to think about the families we left without fathers that day, but, as you have said many times, such is the sad reality of the world I now find myself in. That being said,” her gaze shifted downward, “I am afraid my time with you and your crew will likely be short-lived. While I appreciate your kindness and generosity and I do not regret my decision to leave my tribe to see the outside world, I do not believe my conscience can handle the life you and your crew have chosen. Thus, while I will remain with you and abide by your rules for as long as it takes to see you to your prize, I would ask that once you have claimed your devil ship that you bring me back to Brightstone so that I may find my own way.”

  Jonathon’s preemptive defensiveness calmed at Naomi’s response, replaced with a twinge of guilt. While she was nearly an adult and responsible for her own decisions, he had to remember that she was a child when it came to some of the realities of the world outside the jungle. She had chosen her current situation, yes, but he had allowed her to do so without ensuring that she knew what she was signing on for. Partly because he hadn’t thought about it…no, that wasn’t true. He hadn’t wanted to think about it. If he had told her and she had decided not to come with him, his search for The Spectre would have ended on that beach.

  He placed his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry this life is not what you thought it would be. I just assumed you knew what you were getting into and brought you into this life.”

  Naomi shook her head. “Oh no, Captain, you misunderstand me. I am not asking you for an apology. I asked you to join your crew. I even manipulated my knowledge of the piece to barter my way onto your ship. My actions, while mistaken, were my own. I appreciate your apology and believe it speaks more to the man you are underneath your chosen life, but this responsibility is my own, Captain.”

  Jonathon couldn’t help but smile at her. “That’s very mature of you, Naomi. Well, if it makes you feel any better, we shouldn’t have to engage with anyone for the remainder of our journey once we find that piece. And yes, once I claim The Spectre, I’ll happily drop you back off in Brightstone. Or Gravenfair. Or Silvercove. Anywhere you wish, really.”

  Naomi smiled back and looked as though she were going to respond when a voice shouted from outside of the cabin.

  “Land ho!” came the cry from the crow’s nest, cutting their conversation short and signaling an end to their two-week journey.

  Jonathon looked at Naomi as they stood. “Thank you for speaking with me, Naomi, and thank you for all you’ve done for us…for me. Now, let’s go find this piece!”

  Naomi smiled back and said, “Aye, Captain.”

  Jonathon felt a tingling surging through every limb as he stepped out onto the quarterdeck. He had to admit, the sailing to the island had been calmer than the crew’s, and his own superstitions had prepared them for. With all the rumors of krakens and other dangerous sea creatures along this route, they all had expected rolling seas and constant battle with large, mythical creatures.

  The reality, as Jonathon should have expected, had been much more mundane. The entire trip had, in fact, been quite pleasant. Every day was beautifully sunny with calm seas. Jonathon considered, for more than the first time during this voyage, how much money he could make if he were to begin running the old trade routes between Silvercove and Gravenfair, keeping the safety of the route a secret to himself. The profit would likely be even better than his current occupation. Not that he’d need to worry about any of that by the time this journey was over, he thought to himself.

  As they approached the island and it became smaller and smaller, so too did Jonathon’s hopes. The whole of Gravenfair would likely struggle to fit on this little stretch of land, and it was far from a major port city.

  Jonathon turned to his Navigator, “Beckett, is this the island we’ve been looking for?”

  Beckett nodded, “Aye sir. By my calculations and charting, this is her.”

  Jonathon turned to Naomi, who had followed him outside, “Banshee, is this the island you spoke of?”

  Naomi jumped at Jonathon’s use of her title, like a child whose parent had just called them by their full name. She looked at the island and shrugged. “How should I know, Captain? I have told you all that I know of the island. I have never been outside of the jungle before, let alone to this island of cursed objects. Why? Does it not fit your expectations?”

  Jonathon knew deep down that she was right, but he couldn’t help but still feel irritated at her flippant response. “No, it doesn’t fit my expectations, Naomi. Look at it! You expect us to find a piece on this small stretch of land? We could cover the entirety of the island in half a day!”

  Naomi smiled, “Then it should be a short search, Captain. I would think this would please you.” She arched one eyebrow upward. “Would you prefer a larger island to search with caverns leading to a piece posed on top of a stone pedestal illuminated by a single beam of sunlight?”

  Jonathon’s irritation rose with the young woman’s mocking. Again, deep down, he was a little embarrassed at being called out. Loath as he was to admit it, there was an element of truth in the girl’s words. Jonathon had built up the discovery of the piece in his mind over the last two weeks. The truth, much like the reality of the waters surrounding the island, seemed to be much less fantastical and much more mundane. He searched for a response to her mockery only to come up empty. She had won this round.

  He sighed, unable to withhold the chuckle that escaped him, “That’s fair. You’re right, it’s just an island, after all. But still, it’s awfully small. Do you really think such a piece washed up on such a small stretch of land? I mean, what are the odds of that?”

  Naomi smiled again and said, “Given the reports we have received from our Seekers, I would say the odds are higher than anywhere else you have searched…aside from our temple, of course.”

  Damn, Jonathon thought, she was quick-witted today. Jonathon ceded another point to her tongue. “Fine, but you’re coming with us.”

  Again Naomi shrugged in her nonchalant way and hit him with one last knowing smile, “As you say, Captain. But I do hope you do not expect me to cast any tracking magic that will guide us to some long-buried chest that whispers with dark energy.”

  Jonathon cursed under his breath and added yet another point to her. He’d have to make sure he could find some menial chores for her once they left the island.

  ~~

  They landed on the beach, and Jonathon looked around in despair. The island was completely littered with debris and garbage. Small though the island was, with this much debris to sort through, this could take days! He sighed for what felt like the tenth time today, saying to no one in particular, “Look at this place. We’d have better luck finding a whore with a heart of gold than the piece amongst all this junk!”

  Naomi laughed, and Jonathon wanted to stop whatever clever retort she had thought of, but he acted too late. “‘The island is too small, how can we expect to find anything there? Oh, there is too much debris! Too many chances to find what I wish to find! Oh, whatever am I to do?’ Come now, Captain, I do wish you would make up your mind whether this island is not enough or too much. Perhaps we should simply begin our search for the piece you seek instead of searching for reasons why your piece cannot be found?”

  He heard a snigger escape Cassandra’s lips as he suffered another verbal lashing from the girl. “Who’s the captain here again?” he muttered to himself. He sighed again, rubbing a hand down his face. “I swear, I need to start carrying a ledger just to keep track of how many points I owe you.”

  Naomi smirked. “A wise man would stop keeping score altogether.”

  “Good thing I’m not wise, then,” he teased. “Besides, how else am I to remember all the chores I need to assign you on our return home?”

  Naomi’s eyes flickered with dread as she remembered the power Jonathon held on the ship. “I am sorry, Captain. I–”

  Jonathon held up his hand and smiled, “Don’t bother Naomi, you’re fine. You’ve actually been telling me what I needed to hear today. More importantly, you’ve meant no disrespect. I appreciate your candor and won’t hold it against you.”

  Naomi’s fear subsided, and she sighed with relief, “Thank you, Captain.”

  Cassie looked around and noted, “How do we expect to find this ‘magical’ piece of junk amongst all of this regular junk, Banshee?”

  Though the question had not been directed at him, Jonathon had an idea. But to be honest, he was starting to become hesitant at opening his mouth around Naomi today, so he let the girl speak. “Well, Quartermaster,” she replied, mocking Cassie’s insistence on referring to her by her title, “if it is a functional piece of equipment, such as a compass, we will find that it does not point North. If it is just a piece of debris with some semblance of a point to it, that point should always turn in the same direction when placed in seawater, regardless of how many times we spin it. At least, this is how we tested the items our Seekers brought back to us.”

  “And what if the item doesn’t float?” asked one of the other crew members Jonathon had brought ashore.

  Naomi giggled at the man and said, “Then it will be the same as another piece of junk and will serve neither us nor anyone else in finding your captain’s cursed ship.”

  They spent the rest of the day searching for the piece. They started by clearing away a large area on the innermost part of the island’s mass. Then, they had bowls brought from the ship and began the tedious process of testing every piece of debris they could find until the sun hung low on the horizon.

  “All right men, let’s call it for the night. Back to the ship!” Jonathon called to the crew.

  There was a collective sigh of relief as every man stood up and stretched their backs, aching from the hunched-over work they had been performing all day.

  When they returned to the ship, they found Thayer had made a hearty meat, potato, and vegetable stew, richly seasoned with his best spices to greet the crew.

  “Figured if ye found the piece, ye’d want a celebratory meal, and if ye hadn’t, well, a good meal can serve as refuge from a disappointing day, eh?” the man told Jonathon as he handed him a bowl.

  Jonathon smiled at the one-armed man and clapped him on the shoulder, “You’re a credit to your role, Thayer. I’m glad to have you aboard.”

  Jonathon could see the effect his praise had in the man’s eyes. “Thank ye, Cap’n. Ye do well by me, I just try to return the favor.”

  Jonathon wondered, not for the first time, what he had done to so deeply earn the loyalty and respect of the man. Whatever it had been, he was glad he had done it; Thayer was a good man and deserved to be happy.

  Jonathon took his meal with the rest of the crew that night. He and Cassandra sat with them, joking and complaining about the grueling work and growing pile of debris that they had accumulated already.

  “Eh, Cap’n,” one of the men called during their discussion, “what do ye plan to do with all that junk once ye find yer piece?”

  Jonathon shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought about it too much. Why?”

  He saw the man and a few of the men around him look at each other and smile. “The boys and I were just thinkin’ ye might be in the mood to throw a good ol’ fashion Mother’s Myth celebratory party once we found the piece. We’ve got a good stock o’ rum and meat aboard, and if ye find yer piece, well, we thought it’d be more than enough a reason as any to…”

  The man’s sentence trailed off and the unasked question hung in the air as the rest of the crew collectively held their breath, awaiting their captain’s response.

  A party, huh? They would certainly deserve it, given their performance thus far. They came along on this mission without so much as a grumble about their shore leave being cut short. Made it almost two weeks stuck on board without much incident. Had had no issues in Brightstone. Protected Pavlov’s shop without complaints. Raided the trading vessel with precision and expertise. Now, they had spent the whole day performing back-aching work searching for, quite literally, a ‘magical’ piece of debris amongst an entire island of debris. When he thought about what they had done and put up with out of respect, trust, and love for him, Jonathon began to feel as though he had swallowed an extra-large piece of meat that had gotten stuck in his throat. He cleared his throat and stood up, raising his tankard as he said, “Men, yer the best group of scoundrels and miscreants a cap’n like me could ask for. Yer loyal, hardworking, and damn good at yer jobs. We have a decent amount of food, aye, but what good’s a party without good ol’ fashioned meat from the very entity that carries us to and fro? Tomorrow, a group of ye will stay on board and spend the day catching all manner of fish while another group will be on shore catching crab, oyster–whatever ye can. When we find this piece, we’ll feast and drink and celebrate the beginning of our final step in finding The Spectre!”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  A cheer rose from the throats of every man on the lower deck, Naomi and Cassandra included.

  ~~

  “You seem to be in a mighty fine mood tonight, Jon,” Cass whispered to him later in his cabin.

  Over the last two weeks, she had become a pro at finding her way to and from his cabin each night and morning. Jonathon had come to yearn for the end of the day each day. His and Cassandra’s talks never ceased to amaze him. Now that he knew her secret, she seemed to have no reservation about hiding her education and knowledge, and now that they had become so close, she had no reservations about hiding her thoughts or feelings from him. Jonathon felt as though he had learned more about her in the last two weeks than he had in the entirety of the three years they had been sailing together, and everything he learned just served to reinforce his decision to be with her even more. He could say he lamented the idea of never going back to Scarlett, but that would be a lie. In truth, the woman hadn’t even crossed his mind since that night in Brightstone. In fact, no woman had.

  “‘Jon’?” he asked, smiling in surprise. “You spend three years unable to call me anything aside from ‘Captain,’ and now you’re giving me nicknames?”

  She smiled back, “It’s not as though I’m incapable of calling people by their given names. Your title was my way of reminding myself of your role,” she cast her gaze downward and her tone lowered, “and how it was not my place to cross that line.”

  Jonathon lifted her face to his and kissed her. “I understand. I felt the same way.” A comfortable silence hung between them for a moment as they savored each other’s presence. Finally, Jonathon said, “To answer your question though, I am in a good mood. And why shouldn’t I be? I’m closer to The Spectre than I’ve ever been in my entire life, I’ve got a finer crew than any captain could ask for, and I’ve got the most beautiful and capable woman I could think of sharing my bed.”

  She smiled and pulled her body closer to his. “Your bed’s not the only thing you and this beautiful, capable woman are sharing.”

  ~~

  “I found it!” came a cry from one of his crew members on the fourth day of their search. Every head within earshot, including Jonathon’s, shot up and looked in the direction of the declaration. The man was running towards Jonathon like he had found The Spectre itself. When he finally made it over to him, he said, “I found it, Cap’n! I found the piece we’ve been looking for!”

  “Are you sure?” Jonathon asked, wary. This hadn’t been the first time over the last few days that someone had claimed to find a piece. Their quickly rising hopes, however, would inevitably be crushed when Naomi tested the piece herself and declared it common junk.

  “Almost certain, sir,” the man responded. “We should get the Banshee.”

  “Already here,” Naomi said, strolling towards them with a bored look on her face. The excitement she had had at the beginning of their search and during the first few “discoveries” had quickly given way to boredom as the monotony and tedium of their task set in.

  The crew member handed her the piece, uncertainty beginning to creep into his excitement as she grabbed a nearby bowl of seawater. She placed the piece in the bowl and Jonathon pulled out his compass. The piece pointed to the north-northwest. She spun the piece in the water and allowed it to settle.

  North-northwest.

  The excitement of Jonathon, Naomi, and the group of men who had gathered to watch began to grow. Naomi spun it a third time.

  North-northwest.

  A smile crossed her lips. Jonathon took the piece out, dried it off, and looked at it. Fortunately, it was splintered in the perfect way to look like an arrow. Two of its faces were clearly from the broken side of whatever the piece had come from, but the third face had what appeared to be some kind of design on it. He placed the piece back in the bowl upside down and spun it again. They all watched in anticipation as the piece spun in the water, slowed its rotation, and wobbled back and forth until coming to a full stop in the bowl. Jonathon looked at his compass. Not a single breath could be heard as the growing group sat in anticipation.

  Jonathon looked up to the rest of the crew on the beach and said, “We found her!”

  A roar that could’ve been heard from Gravenfair erupted from the entire crew as their search finally came to an end. Jonathon could feel tears of joy welling in his eyes as he gripped the piece tightly in his hands. He wouldn’t let this piece go. Ever.

  The men continued to cheer and celebrate. Some shook each other with joy or patted the man who found the piece on the back in congratulations, others had taken to grabbing all of the debris they could find that was still scattered around and throwing it onto the massive pile that had formed in the center of the island.

  Once the initial, uproarious celebration died down, they all looked to Jonathon. He summoned his most commanding sea voice and said, “Well?!” He let the question hang in the air for a moment before saying, “What’re ye scallywags standing around fer? We’ve got a celebration to begin!”

  The cheering continued as the men split into groups: one staying on the island to continue prepping the area, the other boarding the jolly boats to return to Mother’s Myth for supplies.

  ~~

  A few hours later, as the sun set, the massive mountain of debris they had accumulated during their search blazed with life as one of the largest land fires Jonathon had ever seen burned brightly against the darkening sky.

  Jonathon stood and raised his cup to his men, who all subsequently quieted to hear their captain speak. “Men,” he began, “ye’ve worked long and hard. Ye’ve spent days hunched over, like a man in a field, searching through endless piles of scrap to find this specific scrap.” He held up the piece in the air and a cheer erupted from the crew. He let the cheering die down before he continued. “Ye worked diligently and your work paid off! We’ve found the piece we’ve been looking for of The Spectre. With it, we’ll chart a path straight to her, and we’ll bring her home!” Another cheer. “But,” he said as the cheers quieted down again. “But, tonight, we celebrate this victory. Let us not forget the value of each of our accomplishments along the way. And don’t forget the value I place in each and every one of you. I couldn’t ask for a better crew.” He grabbed at Thayer who was nearby and brought him in, hugging him around the shoulder. “And I couldn’t ask for a better cook than good ol’ Thayer Shelley! As ye all feast tonight, don’t forget to praise the man who makes it more’n just cooked meat to fill yer belly. To Thayer Shelley, and to you, the crew of Mother’s Myth!”

  A final, uproarious cheer lifted from the throats of every man on the island as they all took a swig of their respective spirits.

  Following his toast, the men cheered and laughed as they gorged themselves on the assortment of seafood the men had collected since their arrival, meat from their stores, various flamed vegetables, and drowned themselves in rum and grog.

  Ryden and Naomi danced near the fire as the ship’s more talented crew members played their preferred instruments. They had quite the assortment of instruments. Jonathon could hear the drums, fiddles, fifes, and hurdy-gurdys being played to the tune of Nancy Dawson. After having been caught so many times in their seeming quest to find intimacy on every square inch of the ship, Ryden and Naomi had given up on trying to hide their involvement. Jonathon watched with amusement as a bunch of the other men joined in, some asking to share a dance with Naomi, others simply dancing with each other, and still others sitting around makeshift tables playing their individual card games of choice, laughing and joking.

  Jonathon savored the moment as he reflected on the perfection of this night. This was why he became a pirate. This was the type of freedom that only they could have. No deadlines. No contracts. No fear of other vessels. No fear of anyone. They ruled the seas. They made their own life, and they made their own rules.

  With that in mind, Jonathon looked over to his quartermaster. “Would you like to dance?”

  Cass looked at Jonathon and said, “Are you sure? I’m not sure what you could possibly need to do that would require such a ‘diversion’ as dancing with me…”

  Jonathon felt the sting of the woman’s grudge as he remembered the night in the jungle and how they had not discussed what had happened. Jonathon smiled apologetically at her and said, “Okay, yes, I shouldn’t have done that without telling you first. But I just said that because I was trying to maintain our roles like before. I had gotten carried away in how much fun I was having with you, and when you got as close to me as you did, I had to quickly stop myself, or I would’ve crossed that line.”

  Cassandra’s prior anger and pain from the night softened into a smile as she said, “Shame you didn’t.”

  He smiled back and said, “Shame I didn’t. How ‘bout I make up for that tonight?”

  He held out his hand for her to grab, and she said, “Are you sure you want the rumors that will come with this?”

  “More sure than I am that I want to find The Spectre,” he replied without a moment’s hesitation.

  Jonathon didn’t know anyone could express the type of happiness that seemed to fill Cass’s face as she grabbed his hand, and they began to dance.

  Hoots and howls and whistles came from the rest of the crew as she and Jonathon cut their way through the crowd. As word of the two made its way through the crowd, Jonathon heard the tune change as the man the boys called Songbird began singing The Maid of Amsterdam. The rest of the crew quickly joined in, and the two laughed to each other at the obvious teasing the crew was performing on the couple as they continued dancing.

  ~~

  Many hours later, as most of the men found their spots to pass out for the night, the remaining band changed their tune as Songbird began singing The Lowlands Low. Jonathon and Cass moved together much slower as the song continued. Jonathon wasn’t sure if it was the slower, more emotional nature of the song, the rum, the high of his dream’s realization, or his feelings for the woman moving closer to him, but he found himself unable to care about anyone else’s opinion. He moved in and kissed his quartermaster deeply. He felt a moment’s hesitation as he sensed the same risks and benefits run through her mind. Then he felt the same sense of release as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

  There was a resurgence of cheers from the members of the crew who remained conscious, and a few delayed cheers from the ones who were woken from their slumber by the sudden raucous. Whatever the crew’s thoughts were on the matter, or whether or not they even cared, didn’t matter to Jonathon as he found himself holding the two things he valued most in the world.

  ~~

  When Jonathon awoke the next morning, the sun had already risen. It wasn’t quite midday just yet, but at least half the morning had passed already. He sat up and looked around to survey the state of his crew. Most were still asleep, though a few were already up and moving around.

  Cassandra stirred nearby and sat up. “Oi, my head,” she said as she stretched and looked around.

  She stood, offered her hand to Jonathon, and helped him to his feet. They collectively took in the beach together before Jonathon mustered his captain’s voice and yelled, “Wake up, ye dogs! Sun’s high in the sky and we’ve a ghost to find! Wake up, get this stuff loaded, and ready the ship for sail!”

  The sudden yelling made those that were awake, and many of those still asleep, jump with surprise as the panic spurred his crew into action. They quickly roused and began loading whatever needed to come back to the ship onto the jolly boats. Jonathon, Cass, and the rest of the inner circle boarded these boats as the first round shoved off from shore.

  “Looks as though our luck with the weather may have run out,” Beckett said as they were rowed towards the ship.

  “Seems that way,” Jonathon agreed, looking at the gathering clouds in the sky.

  As they stepped aboard, Jonathon looked to his inner circle and said, “Morning muster in thirty minutes. Aside from necessities like stirring the powder, you have my permission to slack on some of your daily responsibilities, such as cleaning the cannonballs and weapons. They’ll be okay for a day. Let’s get our bearings and set sail as soon as possible.”

  They all nodded and went their separate ways to perform their morning duties.

  Thirty minutes later, they all sat around the table in Jonathon’s cabin. “The crew is still loading Mother’s Myth from last night’s festivities,” Cassandra reported. “We’ve had a couple of fights break out amongst the more hungover lads, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Threats of lashings always seem to correct everyone's irritation.”

  “Excellent,” Jonathon said. “Beckett, I know there’s no specific course set, but how do you plan on using this piece?”

  Beckett tugged on his beard as he thought, “Aye, I was thinkin’ ‘bout that over the last few days. Best I can figure is we craft some form of makeshift binnacle, fill it with seawater, and place the piece inside. We’ll likely need to mount it near the actual binnacle. Or, we could craft a stand for it to sit on and place it elsewhere on the quarterdeck.”

  Jonathon nodded. “And how do you propose we keep the piece and the seawater inside the structure? We’re not exactly craftsmen here.”

  “Aye, true,” Beckett responded thoughtfully. “Best we can do is hope we can find some glass from the goods in the ship we plundered on the way here that will fit well enough. I figure we can heat some of the resin they had and use some of it to secure the glass to the bowl.”

  “I feel like that would work well enough for our purposes,” Cassandra said.

  Jonathon nodded in agreement. “Very well. Let’s get that down as soon as possible. We know a general direction, so we can go ahead and set sail before it’s completed. I doubt we’ll find the ship anywhere in the commonly sailed portions of The Stern Sea,” he finished with a chuckle. He turned to Thayer. “I assume our food stores are still adequate?”

  “Aye, Cap’n,” Thayer said. “Admittedly, the boys and I didn’t ‘ave as good of luck as we expected, given how long we were fishin’. Despite the lack of travel, these waters seem unexpectedly barren, so we had to supplement some food from our own stores for the feast last night. We may ‘ave lost a few days’ worth of supplies, but honestly, most of what was used was from the supplies we originally purchased in Gravenfair, so it needed to be eaten…either that or added to the poisoned meat. Speakin’ of, Cap’n, what do ye want me to do with those barrels? Don’t look like those stories were true after all. We may still be able to sell ‘em, but given they’ve ‘ad meat soaking in ‘em, I’m not sure anyone would buy ‘em from us rather than just buy ‘em new. I’d hate to toss it though.”

  Jonathon winced at the reminder of the poison. “Aye, those will be a bit of a problem, won’t they? They weren’t a cheap purchase. Looking back, maybe a little expensive for ‘just in case.’”

  “Uh,” Beckett interjected. “Cap’n, if I may, mayhaps we just leave the poison as it is for now. We’ve still yet to make it out of these rumored waters. And after that, we’re likely to be sailing into unknown waters. Call it superstition, but I think I’d feel safer knowing it’s still onboard, just in case.”

  Jonathon jumped at the ability to put that problem further down the way. “As you say, Beckett. And you’re right, we’re not in the clear just yet, they may still be necessary. Anything else, Thayer?”

  “No, sir.”

  He turned to the twins, “Boys?”

  “Powders sifted,” Ryden reported. “Skipped the cleaning as you suggested, but I did have ‘nough time to look ‘em over. They still look fine. I think you’re right, they’ll be fine not being cleaned for a day or two.”

  “Not a day or two,” Jonathon corrected. “I said a day. And just today. I don’t want this to become a habit. I will expect you to resume your duties as normal starting tomorrow.”

  Ryden nodded, a hint of disappointment in his brow and Dryden began, “Cap, we admittedly dragged our feet making ‘em on our way here, but repairs to the ship from our last raid finished up yesterday. Holes in the sails are patched and railings are fixed. We thankfully had no rigging damage. All in all, she’s ready to begin the final stretch of our expedition. Sorry for not stayin’ on the boys well enough. It won’t happen again.”

  Jonathon nodded, he had been frustrated with the boy when he had discovered the repairs had not been completed, but it seemed as though he had learned his lesson. Excitement began to swell in his chest as everything seemed to fall into place. “Excellent to hear. Alright, all seems in order. Once the men finish their work ashore, let’s shove off.”

  “Aye, sir,” they responded in unison.

  ~~

  “Weigh anchor and hoist the mizzen!” Jonathon cried from the helm of Mother’s Myth shortly after midday. “We’re headed into the unknown!”

  A cheer of excitement erupted from the crew as what began as Jonathon’s pursuit of myth had transformed into a voyage worthy of song quite literally overnight.

  As the anchor lifted and the sails unfurled, Jonathon stood on the quarterdeck, his gaze looking out at his men, his mind lost in his imagination.

  “Cap’n,” Beckett said next to him, “these clouds worry me. I fear we’re headed for a storm.”

  Jonathon shook from his daydreaming. “How bad? Do we need to stay anchored for another day?”

  Beckett shook his head, and Jonathon breathed a sigh of relief. “I wouldn’t say it’ll be that bad, Cap’n, but we ought be prepared all the same.”

  Jonathon grunted in agreement. “I’ll be sure that Dryden and Cass stay on their toes.”

  Shortly after their exchange, the wind filled their sails, and Mother’s Myth began gliding through the water following the path carved by the fateful piece they had found on the small island.