“Prudence,” I yelled down to the deck where my men were gazing with wary eyes at the action, “fire off one of the guns, but not toward any ship. I don’t want to hit anyone; I just want to warn Pangloss that I’m not in place yet.
Maybe he can’t see us.”
Bas looked at me like I was deranged.
I shrugged. “It’s that, or he’s decided to sacrifice us, and much as I love this ship, I have absolutelynointention of going down with her.”
The midrange boom of my ship’s cannon firing echoed off the island in the relatively quiet morning air, the splash of the cannonball as it hit the water almost as loud. I swear nature herself held her breath for a moment to see what the response would be.
We didn’t have long to wait. Pangloss’s big ship had completed her turn, and from the height of the crow’s nest I could see the guns being wheeled out to the portholes. I was between two blockade ships—and dead in the aim of his guns.
“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!” I yelled, waving my arms for a moment before scrambling down to the deck. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” I yelled at my crew. I flung myself at a line that bound one of the sails. “Quickly, we need warp speed.Right now!”
A thunderousboomblasted through the morning air, a horrible whistling noise accompanying the cannonball as it sailed inches from the bow of my ship. Four other booms sounded as the other officers in Bart’s crew opened fire, immediately followed by deep bass responses from the larger blockade ships.
“Should we fire?” Tar asked, frantically lashing down a line.
I looked out at Pangloss’s ship and hesitated. Had he just made an honest mistake, or had he, for some reason unbeknownst to me, decided I was the enemy? “No. Let’s just get out of the line of fire.”
Before we moved twenty feet, Pangloss opened fire on us, seriously opened fire, blasting my beautiful ship with a volley that left the ship—and me—reeling in horror. My crew shouted conflicting orders to each other as they dodged debris from the blasts.
“Stay out of the way,” I yelled helplessly, ducking as the top of the mast was blown to smithereens, one of the sails dropping to the deck with a loud, wet slap. “Get down flat on the deck.”
“Should we fire?” Tar asked again.
“No time now,” I yelled back. “How badly is she damaged?”
“We’re takin‘ in water somethin’ terrible, and there’s a hole ye could crawl through on the port side. We’ve lost part of the mast, but she can sail. Just barely,” he answered. “If they was to stop now, we could limp back to the island.”
“Try to get that sail back up,” I told him. “What else can we do to build speed?”
“Lighten the ship,” he said before scurrying off to help Impulsive with the line.
“Right, everything heavy overboard,” I called out, wrestling with a nearby cask of rum that was used to make grog.
“Not the rum, not the rum!” Prudence yelled, rushing over to wrest the cask out of my arms.
“Too late,” I said, my stomach dropping. On Pangloss’s ship, the cannons had been reloaded and were being shoved out the portholes. “This doesn’t look good.”
“Oh, shite,” Prudence said, the cask slipping from his fingers as we stood facing the guns.
I knew without anyone telling me that this would be it— the final blow. My sweet sloop wouldn’t be able to survive another volley of cannon fire from the larger ship. We were about to sink with her—if we survived the cannonballs.
A flash of yellow at the right caught my eye. TheBumblebee, which had dropped anchor, suddenly leaped forward, narrowly missing slamming against us as she put herself between us and Pangloss’s ship. Striding along the deck of the ship yelling out orders to fire was a familiar figure.
Corbin wasn’t on the flagship, as everyone thought.
Pangloss’s ship opened fire, which Corbin returned, but it was clear that the sloop was built for speed and not intended for serious battle. I had a moment of guilt as I realized that this was the ship Corbin must have used to get to Turtle’s Back so he could spend the night with me… probably he’d sailed around the island, intending to rejoin his fleet, where he would switch over to the flagship.
Instead, he was being blasted to bits saving me.
“Turn about,” I yelled, flinging myself forward toward the sail.
“Are ye daft?” Tar yelled back. “We’re almost clear of the guns.”
“I don’t care; turn back, turn back! We’re not leaving Corbin to get shot up.”
Tar looked at me as if I had gone stark, staring insane— which I probably had—but gave the order to turn about. Just as our ship started its turn, a second of Bart’s ships joined Pangloss, shooting the crap out of the yellow and blackBumblebee. Men bailed out of the ship like fleas jumping off a dog. The two nearest ships in the blockade fleet were turning to help us, the nearest one behind the remains of Corbin’s ship. The men who had jumped overboard swam toward them, but as I scanned the water, I didn’t seen any sign of the man I wanted most to see.
