Steel

It was just a chunk of rusted metal. No magic to it at all. But then, how had she come here? No, it was all a dream, she reminded herself. It didn’t have to make sense.

“But, Captain,” Abe said, wearing his constant wry smile. “We must, yes?”

The captain set her jaw and sighed. “I suppose we must.” She turned away from the rail and hollered, bellowing so that her voice carried over the whole ship, to the top of the masts.

“Ready about! Hoist the colors, ye dogs!”

A cheer went up, adding to the noise, until it sounded like a storm, thunder and rain pounding against wood. Then sailors ran to their duties.

Jenks was at the helm and spun the wheel. The Diana heaved over, tipping as it changed direction. Jill stumbled a couple of steps but didn’t fall, braced, and considered it a victory.

The vessel, which had been traveling peacefully, cutting through waves on what seemed to be a gentle breeze, became fierce. It slammed into the next set of waves, and water sprayed up, over the railing. Sails slacked and rippled, seemingly confused for a moment, before finding the wind again and filling, wide and taut, sounding like cracks of thunder. The ship raced forward. Hoisted on a line, a black flag rose to the top of the mainmast. It showed an image in white: a leering skull, with a sword and stemmed rose crossed beneath it. Captain Cooper’s flag.

Shouting and calling, members of the crew rushed over the deck. It looked chaotic to Jill. No one seemed to have any direction in mind, but the purpose soon began to emerge: several men came from belowdecks carrying armloads of weapons—swords and guns. Others grabbed the weapons and distributed them, until everyone was armed.

Henry passed by with a sword in hand, and Jill held his arm to stop him. “What am I supposed to do?”

He looked at her, looked out to sea, then at the captain. He seemed to be debating whether to annoy Captain Cooper with such a problem. The answer must have been no, because he said, “Well, we’ve seen you’re not a fighter, so you’d best get below.”

But she could fight, she was a fighter, they’d seen her handle a sword and hold her own against Henry. But the captain had been right, and she’d never fought for blood, and she didn’t want to have to kill anyone. So better that she stay out of the way.

Ahead now, Jill could see it—another ship, so far away it looked like a toy, bobbing on the waves. The Diana raced toward it. Jill couldn’t tell which way the wind was blowing—the sails above her seemed to be moving in a storm of breeze, sound, and motion. But the direction didn’t matter, because they were definitely drawing closer to the other ship. It was much larger than the Diana, with three masts and a crowd of sails. But it was slower. While the Diana skimmed over the waves, moving fast and sending up sprays of white, the other ship swayed along at the mercy of the waves.

Jill couldn’t quite bring herself to go belowdecks.

The crew gathered, preparing to attack, and it wasn’t what Jill was expecting. They didn’t look like warriors ready for battle—trained, lined up, weapons prepared. Instead, they stood on the side of the ship, or clung to parts of the rigging, baring their teeth and shouting curses. Some of them fired their guns, making noise and putting black puffs of smoke in the air, which began to smell like burned

sulfur. A pair of the cannons had been rolled forward, and doors in the side of the ship opened so the mouths protruded, visible to the other ship. A couple of men held lit torches, waving them over their heads, which seemed like a terrible thing to do on a wooden boat. Others shook their swords, held daggers in their teeth, jumped from mast to deck and back again, and screamed with laughter. A few had smeared lines of soot on their cheeks; a few others had taken off their hats and shaken out their hair to make it wild and tangled.

They looked like madmen.

As they drew close to the other ship, Jill could see the other crew running in a panic. Men on the masts began loosening lines, letting sails hang heavy and useless, leaving their ship effectively helpless, dead in the water. A flag that had been flying on the central mast—it had a red and white pattern, but Jill couldn’t identify it—disappeared.

A man in a fancy, decorated coat stood by the side closest to the Diana and waved a white handkerchief over his head.

The other ship was surrendering without a fight.

The crew of the Diana cheered and fired another round from their pistols. Captain Cooper, who’d been watching the other ship through her spyglass, Abe at her side, lowered the instrument and gave a nod of satisfaction.

“Jenks, prepare for boarding. Let’s put on a good show for them,” she said. The first mate shouted orders. Ropes and hooks appeared, the helm turned, and the sails went slack as the ship slowed and came up alongside the other.

It was all a show. Side by side, the Diana was clearly smaller than the other ship, which was wide, large, and presumably packed with cargo. But it didn’t seem to have any cannons or as many crew members—only a dozen stood on the deck. Maybe it could have outrun them, but it hadn’t even tried. The Diana’s crew had won by intimidation. Somehow, it made them even more frightening than if they had won by force.

The crew who were involved with throwing ropes and hooks over to the other ship continued hanging on the side, brandishing weapons, shouting war cries and insults to the other crew, who watched, backing away from the side, wide-eyed and cowering.

The Diana’s crew put woven mats over the side to buffer and protect the hulls and used the ropes to pull the other ship close and secure it. A group of the pirates—still armed, still wild and cackling—escorted their captain over the side and to the other ship. Abe, Jenks, and Henry were among them. Jill moved closer to the side to watch.

The other crew stumbled and scurried away from the approaching pirates. The other captain, the man in the fancy coat—bright green material, with gold braid and buttons—approached, though warily. When Captain Cooper emerged to greet him, the other captain quailed.

“Oh God, it’s you!”

“That’s right, sir, you have been captured by that bloody pirate queen, harridan of the waves and witch of the sea. And you are very, very wise to offer yourselves so freely. Though I rather wish you’d put up a fight—I’m disappointed I won’t be murdering you and sinking your boat. Now—one word of argument from any of you and I will.” She made a stunning picture standing before him, hands on hips, her coat buttoned, her high boots polished, her hat firm on her long, curling hair, and her face like that of an avenging goddess. Her mob of demons was arrayed around her.

The other captain was on his knees now. “Please, have mercy, I have a wife at home, small children—a daughter! Be merciful, they’ll be lost without me!”

“On the contrary I rather suspect they’d be better off, given what you are.”

“What—” the captain stammered, then went silent.