On a long and exhaustive list of things I would rather not do, traveling near Aloja territory was at the top. Last time I was near Mallorca, I nearly drowned and then had my chest practically crushed in by an insane woman–creature–seas, if I knew what to call her.
Blackbeard sat at the railing, staring out to the east in the direction of the island that housed Ximena. I appreciated the moral support as I watched as well.
If I had thought to extend the deadline for Edmond’s and my little bargain, then we could have gone around it without risking it. As it was, small islands in the distance said we were coming too close to land.
Beside us, Koinu swam with the waves, keeping pace with the Wraith. Maybe he would eat Ximena if she showed up. Last time, we’d been too close to shore to have him near.
“We are entering potential Aloja territory now,” Dilly said, holding out the map beside me.
“The wind is favorable,” Bash said.
There was no hiding the tension in his clipped voice. I knew he was regretting using Ximena to create his name, but the truth was that no one could have foreseen the turn of these events. He was planning to live to die at the time. Precious little decisions weighed heavily against that end goal.
“Ten minutes at our current pace,” Oscar said.
“Maybe you should go under the deck,” Emille murmured, standing in our sorrowful line watching the horizon.
I snorted despite the racing in my heart.
“Turns out doors and wood didn’t save me last time when Inu was supposed to be guarding me,” I said.
Inu clicked her tongue in annoyance next to Oscar.
Likely not at failing me, but being reminded of it. Last time we did this, I was tucked safely away in Bash’s cabin when Ximena appeared and took me into the ocean to drown for a short spell.
Black flecks appeared against the leering sun above us, and nausea filled me.
“Fuck,” Oscar said.
Fuck indeed.
I reached for my pistol, loading it without second-guessing myself.
“I don’t care if you tell me not to shoot them.” I said to Dilly, “I will, in fact, be shooting them.”
“Rose,” Bash warned, pressing his hand to my pistol and lowering it.
Absolutely fucking not.
“You think I don’t know your plan, Sebastian Flynn?”
He was lucky the crew was nearby; else, I would have called him by his true name, and then he would have known exactly how much trouble he was in.
“Just wait,” he ordered.
Again, absolutely fucking not.
I raised my pistol, training it on one of the three black flecks that drew closer till there was no denying the shape of three cormorants. Ximena’s minions.
They stopped about twenty feet away, watching.
“They can’t reach us,” Dilly whispered. “We aren’t close enough.”
“Steady on course, this ship doesn’t budge an inch off course,” Bash ordered.
It was like we were all frozen in time, staring at what would certainly mean disaster if we let it.
“What are they?”
