Chapter one
Penance
Casper
Anonymity was a smuggler's best friend.
The element of surprise was a pirate's.
As things stood, Captain Casperion Helmrud had no hope of being successful in either occupation.
The charred, blackened hull of his ship, thePetrel, was immediately and unmistakably recognizable. The wooden boards groaned and creaked as the vessel rolled with the waves. The seas in this part of Winter were known for being treacherous and temperamental at the best of times, and the salty spray added a layer of chill to the already biting wind. Casper pulled his jacket tighter around him as he adjusted his stance on theprow. The water ahead was empty of other vessels, which was how he usually preferred it.
Most days.
He felt a familiar presence over his shoulder. "Any news, Jem?"
His friend and first mate mirrored his stance beside him, crossing his arms and bracing his long legs wide. The wind ruffled his dirty blonde hair, which was almost translucent in the muted sunlight "Nothing yet, Captain. I've had Short John and Richard taking shifts in the nest, but there's been no sign of any ships."
Casper frowned. "With the storm last night, it's almost certain that someone came through."
"Perhaps they found another means of entry?"
He shook his head. "We've sailed every inch of Winter's seas over the years. This is the only place where the barrier is thin enough to be breached." Casper looked at the tall, jagged rocks that towered like menacing giants over the water, unmoved by the crashing waves that pummeled them. The wind whistled as it wound its way around and through them, a faint echo of the howling, keening song that accompanied the storm of the night before. "If a shipment came through, it would have been here."
"Maybe there wasn't one."
"Maybe. But they haven't missed an opportunity in the last forty-nine; why would they start now?" Casper looked out to where the waves met the empty, gray horizon. "Have the men bring thePetrelaround again. We must be missing something."
"Aye, aye Cap'n." Jem gave a smart salute and grinned at Casper's rolling eyes, then turned sharply on his heel and marched away with soundless steps.
Casper shook his head and sighed. Even after nearly five decades of captaining his own ship, there were still days where the responsibility of authority weighed heavily on his shoulders.Jem's willing and unquestioning acquiescence, though it should have bolstered him, instead stirred up the familiar questions of doubt.
What am I doing? Does any of this even matter? How can they follow someone who ruined their lives so completely? What will happen when they realize that there's no way to fix this?
The gloomy thoughts swirled in his head, matching his mood to the gray, overcast sky above. A gust of wind cut past, biting at his cheeks and threatening to rip the cap from his head.
What kind of future can there be when you live as a ghost?
"Ship ho!"
The cry that Casper had been anxiously awaiting finally sounded as the afternoon light began to pale. The small vessel had apparently been forewarned and taken shelter amongst the rocks—a risky and ill-advised move that could only have been suggested by one of the fae who forgot how delicate and vulnerable humans were in their realm. As thePetrelmade a final circuit around, the little merchant ship was spotted making its escape out to the open waters.
"Your orders, Casp?" Jem called from his place at the helm.
"Pursue," he answered confidently. "The wind is in our favor this evening, and we should be able to catch them before nightfall."
His crew scurried across the deck as they prepared the ship to change course. The sails snapped loudly before billowing out as they caught the wind, and the wood creaked and groaned as thePetrelpicked up speed. Casper moved to stand at his customary spot over the bowsprit.
His ship was not the fastest, and in the desolate waters of Winter, there was no way to conceal their approach. The crew of their quarry had doubtless already spotted them. There was also no way to disguise the burnt wood and tattered sails of his ghastly-looking vessel, and if this batch of smugglers was anything like the rest, they already knew who it was that pursued them.
But even without anonymity or the element of surprise, Casper had something even better:
Fear.
A thick fog began rolling in as the light faded and Casper took his place. His mouth pulled into a satisfied grin. With the dim light and the fog, he knew that it would appear from a distance as if his ship were floating over the water. From his position at the prow, his would be the first face they saw.
The Flying Dutchman.
