Vengeance of the Pirate Queen(42)

Kearan finds it before I do, pointing to what I originally thought was only a shadow, but is actually an opening between two boulders on the other side of the fire.

They’re guarding something. An opening into the earth.

A prison, perhaps?

This is no campsite but a guard watch.

It’s impossible to sneak past them all right now. Not without some sort of diversion to draw them away or at the very least get them to look in another direction. It’s not something we can manage with just the two of us.

I’ve no choice but to turn away and come back again later.





WHEN THE LIGHT IN the tent first starts to brighten, I rise and exit. It was a fitful night’s sleep. Though I’ve slept on the hard ground many a night, I am not used to having other people touching me. I would doze, only to wake at the first movement of another body in the tent.

I stretch in the frigid morning air and rub at the spots where my weapons dug into my skin. Like hell was I removing my knives while I slept.

Jadine soon joins me outside with her helpers, and they set to getting breakfast ready. While waiting for the rest of the crew to wake, I do sweeps around the area, checking in with each of the girls on watch, who all report seeing nothing in the night. As I do so, I rehearse in my head what I’ll say to the crew this morning.

Kearan’s words are never far from my mind.

Get over it.

And his accompanying grin as I threw knife after knife at him.

I shake those thoughts from my head as I return to camp. The cabin girls pass around the food, and Roslyn jumps down from the nearest tree to receive a bowl. Even on land that girl likes to be up high.

“See anything interesting?” I ask her.

“Snow,” she says, deadpan.

I wait for everyone to have their morning oats before I dare to speak. It is my experience that folks are more amiable when they’re not hungry.

“Yesterday was a rough one. I … apologize for not speaking about it last night. You all worked admirably. Short of seeing the future, there’s nothing we could have done to save the ship. The moment we anchored, we were sitting ducks.

“But we’re all here now. Alive with food and shelter. We’re going to be okay. Our yano bird will return to the queen. She will send more ships this way, and they’ll have a far easier time of it now that we’ve taken care of that beastie.”

A few shouts of raw! go up at the pronouncement.

“We need only survive until they get here,” I continue, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t still do the job we were sent to do.” I explain about the underground entrance and the men guarding it. “I want to get a better look at it today during the daylight.”

Dimella and I spend some time together talking strategy, but in the end, we decide it’s best if Kearan and I scope it out again. As always, I’d rather go it alone, but it’s not just me I’m putting in danger anymore by doing so. I have a whole crew depending on me.

Before the two of us head out, Philoria and Visylla approach me. I ache to see their saddened faces. Bayla’s death hit them harder than everyone else, for they knew her best.

“Captain, we’d like permission to go down to the water tonight and light a lantern for Bayla’s soul.”

“Of course. We should not delay. I will accompany you.”

They both nod before striding away, and Kearan and I take off.

The landscape isn’t terribly different during the day, though I swear it’s just as cold and difficult to see. The sun reflects off all that white snow, blinding anyone who dares to look at it. The plants we saw last night now have color to them, and these purple blossoms poke through the ground at uneven intervals. Kearan and I wear white to blend in with our surroundings. (I had to borrow clothes from some of the other girls, since I don’t own anything in a light shade.)

There isn’t much more to see at the campfire in the daytime.

New men have taken watch. The same number as before: ten around the fire, ten more keeping watch from the trees or surrounding foliage. They stare out at their surroundings with vigilance.

There’s definitely something down there they don’t want anyone to find.

Or perhaps people they don’t want broken free?

At first, I thought it wishful thinking to hope for Alosa’s crew to still be alive if they were captured, but if the natives have underground prisons for newcomers, then maybe we have a chance.

The crew and I find a new rhythm in the days that follow. I observe the natives, listening to them speak to one another, watching them exchange shifts guarding that entrance belowground. Dimella has a watch rotation all worked out so everyone can take turns keeping lookout. Instead of maintaining a sailing ship, we have to keep the camp stocked. We send out parties to collect firewood, go hunting, and scavenge for anything we might be able to use.

Everyone takes turns teaching Roslyn how to fight with her new rapier. She has a sparring buddy for every hour of the day to keep her occupied and out of trouble. Though she doesn’t know it, her fighting partners are whoever is charged with guarding her in that moment. I’m taking no chances with her.

Enwen always lets her win.

Dimella puts her in her place.

And I make her work until her limbs drop with exhaustion.





Chapter 12