Three by three, the crew stood on the platform one moment, dangled from ropes the next. Some fell silently, merely jerking once or twice. Others flailed. Finally, only two remained: Da and Rymon. Silent workers removed the last bodies. Full dark descended, and gas lanterns fluttered to life, casting eerie shadows over Da’s face.
Da mounted the platform without a word, taking his place by a noose with the same command he’d show on the Seabird’s deck. Rymon did the same. Both stared straight ahead.
“Take him, too.” The man in black pointed toward the traitor.
“But… But… You promised…”
“I promised nothing,” the man spat. “By your own admission, you are guilty of the crime of piracy. You are hereby sentenced to death.”
The blood drained from the traitor’s face. Whipping his head this way and that, he charged the crowd. He screamed as three men brought him down with punches and lay on the ground until boots and kicking silenced him.
“We have only two, then.” The man in black stepped up to the platform.
Throughout the entire spectacle of the execution, a priest stood his ground. Draped in a brown hooded cloak, with not a bit of skin showing, he never so much as moved his head left to right. Was this the same man Petran had spoken to earlier?
Though his face and eyes were hidden by shadow, Da seemed to meet Petran’s gaze for one brief moment in time, then focused on something far away. As clearly as if he’d spoken aloud, Petran heard,“Goodbye, son.”
Petran’s heart dropped with the platform.
He sat on a stool by an unlit fireplace, a single lantern lighting the room. “You can’t be Petran anymore,” the woman who’d saved him said, working a concoction into his hair. “That’s not a local name.” Addie. Her name was Addie.
“Why are you helping me?” Numb. Dead inside. Petran could hardly sit still, let alone contemplate life without his father or theSeabird. If the wounded had died aboard ship, along with the pirates hanged today, Petran alone survived of the crew.
Addie gentled her touch, massaging Petran’s scalp. “Because I sense something in you. You’re no pirate whether or not you came in on that ship.”
Petran choked back a sob. “But I am! My father…” He whipped his head around, causing Addie to wipe brown goo on his cheek.
She dabbed a cloth at his face, holding his chin in her other hand. Addie murmured, keeping her tone soft, “No, you’re not. You’re Peter, I’m your Auntie Addie, and everything’s going to be fine.” She brushed her lips against his forehead. “We have a lot in common, you and me. One day you’ll see.”
By the dark of the next new moon, Petran paddled out to theSeabird. Holding his breath, he dove, time and again, digging a borrowed dagger into the hull. Due to the recent sea battle, any damage might be mistaken for cannon fire.
He often paused, clinging to the hull, listening for voices. Three men, maybe four, chatted on the deck, laughter punctuating the night. If they only knew what lay beneath their feet.
His hands were raw and bloodied from barnacles when the hull gave way. He ran his fingers into the opening with one final dive and removed what he sought. Twice he nearly dropped the heavy iron box on the way to his borrowed boat. His legacy.
Once he’d secured the box, he dove again, attacking the weaknesses his father built into the ship for such an occasion.
By morn, theSeabirdwould kiss the seafloor.
May she rest in peace.
Along with his father.
TheSeabirdand her captain would sail no more.
Chapter Ten
Everystepawayfromthe docks got heavier. Arkenn stopped several times to glance over his shoulder. Each time Petran waved until Arkenn turned a corner. His heart thudded in his chest. No. This was wrong. He turned and ran back.
Petran was gone.
His one friend. Possibly the one person in the world who didn’t want Arkenn dead.
Then again, Petran didn’t know he’d helped a mage. The coins in Arkenn’s pocket meant he’d survive for a while. Maybe he could find honest work, but doing what? There were no gardens here in the city, and the Lady’s temple occupied a prominent hill. Her followers could be anywhere, ready to label him a mage and drag him to his death.
A tall figure in brown robes strode down the main thoroughfare, hide boots making no sound. He stopped, turned, and faced Arkenn.
From the folds of his hood, Arkenn saw no face, and the figure wore gloves. His garments covered him completely, head to toe. “What is your name?” Though deep and gruff, a man’s voice carried a note of kindness.
