“Lead on, love.”
Lucky door number three opened to a small cabin lit by a dim lantern. Child-sized forms slept in narrow bunks. One of the boys rolled over, rubbing his eyes. “Peter?”
Oh, Holy Flora. Now what to do?
Other boys yawned and shifted.
James stepped around her. “Come with us, quickly.”
“Peter? What happened to him?” another boy asked, his voice entirely too loud.
“He’s asleep,” Tink replied in an urgent whisper. “He wants you to come with us, now.”
“Why would we trust you?” the biggest one asked.
James shifted Peter with a soft groan. “Because he’s my brother.”
Tink’s mouth dropped open.No way. Why didn’t he tell me before?
He flashed her a look that promised he’d tell her later.
Fine. Okay. But holy Nessa’s flute, James has a brother!
The boys looked between one another, silent conversations happening in shrugs and shakes of their heads. The biggest one stepped forward. “Peter’s brother is ours too.”
James and the boy shared a nod.
Too trusting, kids, Tink wanted to say, but their fault worked in their favor—this time.
The boys grabbed their packs and followed them up the creaking stairs and onto the deck. Two pirates snoozed nearby, likely victims of her dust.Thank Flora.
“Grab those lanterns,” Tink whispered as she pointed to the glowing objects on deck. “Douse the flames, spread the oil. Be quick about it.”
The boys rushed to obey, obviously more used to following orders than questioning them.
“Over there.” Tink pointed to a small rowboat ready to be lowered into the tide where they were anchored near Skull Rock. Heavy fog, as bad as that near the Shrouded Isles, hovered around them, cloaking the ships hopefully still waiting nearby.
They crept in across the deck. James deposited Peter in the bottom of the boat and helped the boys and Tink with the lanterns. She didn’t miss the way he winced, the tight set of his jaw, or the slight sheen of sweat just visible on his skin. Each mark on him cut at her heart. Soon, so soon, they’d be away from here. He was alive. Wounds would heal, she reminded herself.
The plan took little time, but every second was one closer to danger. Each one ticked by like a gonging bell in the back of her head.
In minutes, they were helping the other boys into the boat.
“You’re next, love.” James held his hand out to her.
Tink shook her head. “You first. I have a job to finish.”
James grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. “I can’t lose you,” his voice cracked. “Not again. I can’t.”
Something broke in her chest before healing even stronger than before. “You won’t.” She covered his hand with hers and stared in the face of the man—the bloody pirate—she loved. “Lower them down. I’m coming.”
Tink pulled away and sprinted across the deck on light feet. She snatched a flickering torch from its stand. Damn, they couldn’t have picked a lighter wood, could they? Probably should have saved a lantern. She hefted it above her head, letting the flame lick at the mainsail that had been pulled in while at anchor.
“Freaking misty fog,” she mumbled. Her wings fluttered, pulling her off her toes and helping the fire climb higher. Finally, the area she’d tried to douse in oil caught. Joy crept through her as the fire crawled across the sail and sparked onto the rigging. She grinned.
Someone barreled into her, knocking the wind from her lungs and sending the torch tumbling away. Tink screeched, her wings screaming in pain far louder than her voice. Her body crashed against the deck, face slapping the hard wood enough to rattle her teeth.
“Tink!” James leaped from the lowering boat back onto the deck.
