Of Magic and Rum (Beyond a Contemporary Mythos)

Chapter 29

It’s astonishing when you feel like you’re drowning, even though water can never conquer you. The pleading look in Jack’s eyes as he begs me not to use my powers for fear of my life has me unable to breathe. And now, knowing Vane is to blame for what’s about to happen has me sinking to the bottom of the sea. It can’t end like this. I won’t let it. I made a promise to Jack, but I have used my powers discreetly before and can do it again. But it means waiting for the right moment. It means allowing ourselves—to be captured. Jack hid Truffles and Laust in his cabin, ordering Laust not to let the cat out of sight until he heard no more movement.

When the marines board our ship, the sight of everyone surrendering makes my limbs numb. Mary spits in the officer’s face as he slips irons over her wrists. Ragnar glares at his captor, making the man work for it with trembling fingers. Squid refuses to come down from the crow’s nest, and several men begin the arduous climb to retrieve him.

When the officers approach me and Jack next, we catch each other’s gazes, speaking without words—we will get out of this. Jack ignores the man with dangling shackles in his hands and bends to kiss me. It’s brief because the officer pulls us apart, but enough to spring eternal hope through my chest. The metal is cool against my skin and just as daunting as the dark overcast sky above us. I fall in line with the rest of the crew, and we’re escorted across a plank from The Revenge to an awaiting naval ship.

Vane saunters on deck, chewing on a piece of straw and looking far too happy with himself. “Your good friend Carlisle bumped into me saying he miraculously ran into you, and it got me thinking, where oh where could his ship be? Did you forget we both have used that island?”

Jack’s cheek quivers. “Didn’t forget. Figured you wouldn’t be here.”

“I’ll witness your hanging, Rackham. Out of respect.” A venomous grin slithers Vane’s lips, and he tilts toward Jack’s ear. “And I did tell you that I’d be the last thing you see before this world is rid of you.”

“You’ve done many idiotic things since I’ve known you, Charles. But this? Has to be the worst.” Jack widens his stance. “Because we could’ve been square, you and I, minding our businesses.” He gets in Vane’s face. “Now you’re as good as dead.”

Jack’s words don’t faze Vane, or he does an excellent job of not showing it.

“What are you planning to do, hm? Haunt me from the afterlife?” Vane flicks the straw at Jack’s chest.

“I do love it whenever you underestimate me. Makes the victories that much sweeter.” Jack turns away from him before he can get in another word, and I’m quick to follow him.

“You should’ve stuck with me, sweetheart. This is where Jack’s leadership takes you.” Vane props against a cabin wall with so much unfounded confidence I want to kick him in the balls.

I pause long enough to shrug at Vane. “Then you don’t know Jack.”

Given our numbers, there are too many of us to shove into the brig. They corral us like cattle on the main deck, instructing us to sit on our asses with our backs to each other.

I press the back of my head to Jack’s, squinting at the sun, attempting to peek through the clouds, and hum Randy Dandy Oh , one of my favorite shanties I’ve heard the crew sing. Soon, more men join me, humming first and then singing it.

The marines let it go for only one verse before a red coat moves in front of us and barks, “Pipe it down.”

Jack’s head shakes against mine. “You take our dignity and now take our human right to sing, too?”

“You gave up rights the day you decided to participate in piracy.” The officer kicks Jack’s leg with his boot.

Jack’s body jostles from the impact. “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

“Pipe. Down,” the marine repeats and continues.

Sneaking my hands near my hip, careful not to let the chain make noise, I tug Jack’s trousers. His skin grazes my knuckles, and he uses a fingertip to caress the skin between my fingers where the webbing appears in my nymph form. Despite our trek to the gallows, his fleeting touch still elicits a smile.

We’re back in the London port in the few moments it takes for a massive naval ship to get there from the island. They remove all weapons from our persons, including my beloved dagger. They’re herding us through the town center, where people aren’t reacting as I thought they would in our presence. I half expected them to throw food or rocks at us—to curse us for being pirates. But they barely notice us. And if we make eye contact with them, they look away. A wooden sign hangs above an alcove with simple black lettering: Paternoster Row, and they shove us here, forcing us into a line.

The soldiers tear me from Jack’s side, and panic suddenly shakes me to my core. I can end this with one tidal wave. London be damned. But I promised him, and we both swore there would be no more lies. Sorrow pulls at Jack’s features, but he nods at me to tell me that it’ll all be alright. Swallowing my swelling anxiety, I settle beside Mary, where they’ve separated us from the rest of our male counterparts.

An officer stands before us, chin held high and at attention. “You all are convicted and found guilty for acts of piracy. You are to be hanged until dead come sunrise.”

Mary fidgets beside me and blurts, “We’re pregnant.”

All heads snap in our direction, including a bewildered Jack. Discreetly, I shake my head at him.

I know with utmost certainty I’m not with child, and considering Mary’s taste, I’m willing to bet she isn’t either.

“That’s to say Anne and I, each of us is pregnant.”

The marine lets out a deep sigh, mumbles something about “bloody pirates” under his breath, and feverishly taps his foot. “Very well. The women will spend the rest of their days in a jail cell until the birth of their babes and thenceforth share the same fate at the gallows.” He clicks his heels together. “Take them away.”

A soldier takes hold of me and Mary’s chains, pulling us in the opposite direction from the rest of the crew. I’m searching for Jack’s face, and when I spot him, he’s peering directly at me with a single finger pointing at the side of his nose.

Deception. It’s how we’ll get ourselves out of this mess.

We’re placed, more like thrown, into cells across from one another, and Mary grips the bars, shouting all forms of insults colorful enough to make a sailor blush. But the soldier ignores her and only slams the hilt of his rifle against her cell.

Once the marine has disappeared, I get Mary’s attention. “How long do you think it’ll be before they return to check on us?”

“I’d be surprised if they returned for the rest of the night.” Mary guffaws and kicks the pebbles covering the stone floor.

“Good thinking on buying us time with the pregnant plea,” I say, but my gaze remains glued on the exit, and I pray a guard doesn’t appear.

“What?” Mary gives a snarky grin and pats her thin stomach. “Don’t think I could be pregnant?”

My face falls silent, and I cross my arms.

“You’re right. Far too much effort.” Mary makes an expression like she’s gotten a sudden whiff of whale shit.

I’m anxious and tapping my fingernail against one of the metal bars. After several more minutes, I can’t take it any longer. Willing my nymph form, I turn enough parts of myself into softening water, the shackles falling from my wrists, and I slip through the bars with ease.

Mary’s light eyes fixate on me, and her mouth is agape. “Did I just witness you turning into a jellyfish?”

“Not quite.” I’m back to human and reach for Mary’s hand between the bars, holding it. “If someone does come back, say you fell asleep and didn’t see what happened. They’re going to have a hard enough time rationalizing how I escaped shackles and a locked cell.”

Mary stares at our joined hands and shakes her head. “Right. Yeah. But Anne—” She folds her other hand over mine, fusing our palms. “Be careful. I don’t give a fuck if you’re immortal. Just be careful, yeah?”

After giving her one last reassuring squeeze, I take to the hallway, pressing my back to the wall and listening for anyone passing. Once clear, I’m scrambling for the next opportunity to hide while figuring out how the Seas I’ll get out of this labyrinth. The light from a flickering flame bounces off an adjacent wall, and I duck into the opposite hallway.

“That one pirate we arrested today? Fucking Calico Jack,” one marine says with far too much snark in his tone.

“No bloody shit. Guess he’s not as unsinkable as they say he is, eh?”

The sound of the man slapping the other’s back reverberates off the stone walls, and the laughter that follows has me seeing red. I dig my nails into the wall, crack one, and stand my ground.

It takes tip-toeing through another four hallways, turning around twice to make a complete circle back to the same stop, and a hair-raising moment with an officer staring down the only walkway I could take to the exit before I’m safely back outside. It’s late evening, and so many passersby crowd the streets that shoulders bump into me from every direction.

I’d been worried someone might recognize me from our pirate procession to the row, but they didn’t care if they did. Stopping a woman in a gray bonnet carrying a basket of bread loaves, I comb a hand through my hair and smile. “Pardon me, but I hear there’s going to be a pirate hanging tomorrow. I love such a spectacle, but I’m new here from Ireland, and I was wondering if you could tell me where it’ll take place.”

The woman grins with all of the six teeth she has and points. “There’s a dock by the Thames. But getting there early is best if you want a good spot. Or you can always go to any of the taverns along the river and watch with a telescope.”

With a telescope ?

“Thank you.” I go to shake her hand, but realizing they’re full of parcels, I awkwardly wave.

Flicking my jacket collar over my face, I shove my hands in my pockets and head toward the river. A frigid chill has formed in the air, and a putrid smell invades my nostrils the closer I get to the dock. I cover my nose with my sleeve, gagging because it reeks of—death. A lifeless pirate hangs from the dock, their feet drooping in the water.

“Seas below,” I whisper, a knot twisting in my throat.

Imagining Jack in this man’s place raises a crazed bout of nerves and desperation—to do something. But without using my powers, what do I?—

“Anne?” A familiar voice beckons from behind me.

Slowly turning, I spy Omar, the brothel keeper, and smile. “Omar? What are you doing in London?”

He looks far fancier than the last time we met, sporting a burgundy frock coat and pristine powdered white wig. “Business, of course. But I’m quite curious about what you’re doing here considering the particular ship I saw you boarding.” Omar looks around for prying ears.

Closing the remaining gap between us, I usher him further away from town and keep my voice low. “Jack, the crew, they’ve all been captured. They’re sentenced to hang tomorrow, and I?—”

Omar cups my chin, turning my face from left to right. “You’ve gone and fallen for a sea wolf, haven’t you?”

There’s no point hiding it; honestly, I don’t want to keep it a secret. I’d shout it to the depths of the oceans if I could.

“Yes. Me and Jack, we’re?—”

Omar’s eyes close, and he waves a hand between us, fluttering one finger at a time. “Say no more, my dear. I had a feeling you stowing away on that ship would leave you with far more than you bargained for.”

And it did. Friends. Family. A lover and confidant. A sister.

“Can you help me?” I curl my hands under my chin. “Sunrise is only hours away.”

Omar nods and leads me further down the docks. “There’s a group here who positively hate red coats. Given some incentive, I’m sure they’d be delighted to provide a distraction and give the Royal Navy hell.”

“Incentive?” Frowning, I feel my heart plummet to my toes. “Omar, I don’t have anything. We were on our way to the score.”

Omar presses one finger between my shoulder blades. “Then you’d owe me. But Anne, I expect compensation as soon as you’re able.”

If we make it to Atlantis, I can pay him back and then some.

“I’m good for it, Omar.” I extend my hand.

A twinkle sparks in Omar’s eye, and he shakes in agreement. “Then let me round them up.” He snaps a velvet coin purse from his belt and holds it up to his ear, shaking it. “Yes, this should be quite enough.”

“You’re going to use your own money to hire them?”

Omar chuckles and hangs the pouch on his hip. “We’ve already shaken on it. You’re a pirate now, so how I get what you need should be no concern of yours, should it?”

“Probably not, but I can still be thankful.” I offer him a warm smile.

“Make yourself scarce until morning. I’ll provide the distraction, but the rest is up to you.” Omar slips a small knife from his pocket, much like the dirk I’d found when first arriving in the Caribbean. “Something tells me you’ll need this. Good luck, Anne.” Omar squeezes my bicep before walking away as if we’d never seen each other.

Holding the knife to the moonlight, I smile at the glittering green stones in the hilt. When I first met Jack, he’d have hated the idea of our lives banking on a dagger. And now, I’m going to save him with one.