For a moment I hear nothing but crackling flames and water slapping the boat. But then his arms loosen, and I slip to the ground, my lungs heaving for air.
Corrick pulls me to him, and I stare up at the largest man I’ve ever seen.
I expect him to shoot Mouse, as if perhaps I’d been in the way and it wasn’t safe, but he gives the other man a nod. “Thank you,” he says.
“You’re welcome, Weston. Thank you for the muffin.”
My breath shudders, and I look up at Corrick. “The—the muffin?”
“I’ll tell you later. Mouse is a good man. He’s just been forced to do bad things.”
Lina gets her legs under her, and she’s spitting with rage. “He’snota good man! He’s afool. Anidiot. And I’m going to rip every single bone from his—”
Mouse steps forward and grabs her. Her rant turns into outraged shrieks, and she starts smacking at his arms. He lifts her in the air, and I suck in a breath, worried he’s going to snap her neck.
But then he tosses her over the side.
I give a sharp little yip and cling to Corrick. I can feel his heartbeat under my hand. A second later, we hear the splash, and then Lina’s distant outraged cursing continues.
“I thought he was going to kill her,” I whisper.
“She would have deserved it,” Corrick says.
Mouse leans over the side to peer down at the darkness. “I didn’t kill her.” He looks back at me. “Lina can swim.”
I nod swiftly. “You did the right thing.”
My relief is short-lived, however, because there are still sailors on deck, and other men have begun to come up from below, hearing the screams and coming to help. Corrick lifts his weapon, but Mouse steps in front of him.
“No!” he shouts. “Weston Lark is our captain now. You will surrender to him or I’ll throw you over the side.”
They skid to a stop, exchanging glances. They take in Oren’s body, and Lina’s yowling from down below. I wait for a mutiny, for them to surge toward us anyway, but they don’t.
They lay down their weapons.
I look up at Corrick. “CaptainLark?”
He smiles. “I don’t hate it.” He loses the smile and looks at Mouse, then at the others. “Signal a cease-fire to the men on the ground. Tether the cannons.”
They exchange glances again, and then one of the men must decide to take charge. “Boone, see to the cannons! I’ll raise the flag for parlay. Mouse! You’ll need to shout.”
From behind us, Lochlan says, “You did it. You ended their war.”
Corrick looks out at the fires that are burning, at the battles still being fought on land. I can’t see anyone I recognize. No Olive. No Erik. No Rian, even.
Corrick’s expression is grim. “Not yet,” he says.
It takes hours before the sounds of battle go silent, and the first threads of dawn begin to appear on the horizon. Mouse has been shouting at the shore for parlay, to cease fire, but we haven’t had a response. A man who was bleeding on the deck is discovered to bealive, and Corrick tells me his name is Ford Cheeke, and he was the one who helped bring this plan together. We’re able to get him sitting up, but I don’t have any of my treatments, so I can’t help him much more than that.
I want to leave the ship, to look for Olive and Erik, but Corrick is worried that Oren’s men might try to take control again, so we don’t. As his men return, they learn that the ship is under our control, and they lay down their arms, too.
We stay vigilant and wait.
Eventually, a small rowboat leaves the dock, heading for our ship. Corrick takes a spyglass, then hands it to me. “They’re in cloaks,” he says. “It’s too dark to tell who it is. It could be a trap.”
“I could club them when they come over the side,” Mouse offers.
“No,” says Corrick. “But thank you.” Then he seems to reconsider. “If it’s Rian and he tries to kill me, I wouldn’t mind the protection.”
