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Vengeance of the Pirate Queen(30)

Author:Tricia Levenseller

As he somehow knew I would.

We stare at each other. Me out of breath, him with that ridiculous grin, and something within my chest shifts ever so slightly.

“Now,” Kearan says, “what’s the plan, Captain?”

I wipe the knife free of blood on my own pant leg and return it to my person. “We find those girls. Get them to safety. Wait for Alosa to arrive. I keep this crew alive and well until then.”

“Good. What’s the first step?”

“I need to get a closer look at whoever lives here to see if they’ve captured Alosa’s crew.”

“Let’s go,” he says, standing and revealing the outline of himself left behind by my blades.

I LET THE GIRLS on watch know I’m going off scouting with Kearan, and then the two of us take off.

Perhaps it was a foolish thing to agree to. Nothing about Kearan is stealthy, but I’d disappoint Dimella if I tried going off on my own. I like having her good opinion. I want to maintain the mutual respect we have for each other. Besides, Kearan probably won’t be able to keep up, and I’ll lose him in the dark. He’ll have no choice but to return back to camp. Dimella can hardly be upset then.

It’s so very dark under the trees, but thin beams of moonlight break through the canopy, illuminating our way. The small scurrying of nightlife sounds around us. Some sort of nocturnal bird hoots in the evening air, and the leaves and needles rustle around us, despite the lack of breeze.

The needle-strewn floor masks any sound and prints we might leave on the ground. I dart from tree to tree, searching our surroundings carefully before moving on to the next stopping point. Small plants appear here and there, and I skirt them so as not to leave a trace.

Kearan makes barely a sound behind me.

In fact, I have to look over my shoulder more than once to ensure he’s keeping apace with me.

“You remember what I used to do for a living, right?” he asks. “Stealth was often required.”

Still, there’s so much of him. I don’t know how he manages it.

“You make a lot of assumptions about me based on my size,” he says. “I don’t like it.”

I halt in place and turn, staring at him.

“I’m a big man. Always have been. I have no problem with it. Do you?”

“Of course not.”

“Good.”

I turn back around, thoroughly puzzled by the exchange. I can’t tell if he wanted to know what I thought about his body shape or if he was concerned it might affect how I treat him or something else entirely.

I like his shape, not that I would ever tell him that. And I would assume anyone who isn’t me would make more noise than usual, but maybe I need to be more careful with my thoughts and words if they’re coming out wrong.

Talking has never been my strong suit.

Still, I say over my shoulder, “I’m sorry if I’ve offended.”

“If? You remember that you once pitched me off a ship and into the ocean, right?”

“I meant with my words.”

He seems thoroughly shocked for a full second. Then he mutters, “Apology accepted.”

“Good. Now, quiet; we’re getting close.”

It is a thing I sense, rather than see, that tells me we’re nearly there. I halt in place, and Kearan does the same two steps behind me. The moon hides behind cloud cover, obstructing my vision, but I am endlessly patient, waiting the fifteen minutes for it to return. My eyes take in the surrounding landscape, checking every tree and bush twice.

I spot the man up in the canopy to our right, even before he coughs loudly into the frigid air. The glint of a pistol in the moonlight appears near some shrubbery, and there’s a rustling not too far off to our left.

We skirt them all, moving slowly. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Crouching, springing forward. Crouching again. Soon, I can smell the smoke from the campfire, and my mouth waters at the scent of whatever they are roasting.

Kearan taps my back and points, having spotted yet another guard up in the trees. I nod, and we continue on, tracing a circle around the entire campsite, until I know the location of every person on watch, including the one who fell asleep leaning against another tree. He’s the one we tread past to get closer.

A large boulder rests just outside the firelight, and Kearan and I press our backs against it. I look around the side, peering through some bushes to take a look at what’s before us.

There are ten of them. Big, built men wrapped in furs and armed to the teeth. They carry spears and quivers of arrows. Bows resting beside where each of them sits. Swords at their waists. The hilts of knives peeking over their boots. A few sport pistols.

They don’t look different from us. Their skin and hair come in the same colors. Their facial features are arranged in the same shapes. They are human just like us.

Though their language is far different.

I listen carefully as they speak to one another around that campfire. The words are nonsense to me, the vowels softer than we say them, but their laughter is the same. Our known world is so small, consisting of one inhabited country made up of seventeen islands. There are other islands spread throughout Maneria, of course. The late pirate king used some to house his keep. Alosa uses another for her stronghold. The sirens have some that they frequent. But outside of that? There was nothing. No other people.

Until now.

They’re here on the most unlikely place for habitation, and twenty men are stationed at this specific location with … very little.

There aren’t any tents or other shelters here. Nothing to suggest this is a campsite at all. In fact, aside from the food they’re eating and the fire they manage, there’s nothing. If this is the search party meant to find us, they are poorly equipped.

My eyes do another sweep of the area, searching for what I missed.

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.

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