Steel

They were glaring at each other, with Henry to the side, looking back and forth between them. Cooper grumbled at him. “What are you staring at, whelp?”

“Um…” Henry’s eyes went wide and he pointed his pistol past Cooper’s shoulder. “Look there!”

Henry fired; Jill and Cooper dropped to the ground. The shot sounded like a miniature cannon, an echoing pop. The smell of burned gunpowder was the same.

There were two of the enemies hiding behind a tower of barrels at the end of the block. Jill was pretty sure Henry had missed, because they leaned out, stealing looks, waving their own pistols—and firing. Puffs of white smoke rose up. Jill covered her head, but they missed as well. The three of them took shelter behind their own pile of crates and debris.

Cooper fired next while Henry reloaded, which required ramming powder and ammunition down the barrel of the weapon. Her targets ducked back without being hit. Blane’s men fired a second time and missed again.

This could go on all night.

“Here, girl. Keep them distracted.” Cooper put the pistol in her hand and ran, disappearing around the street corner.

“I don’t know what to do with this,” she hissed at Henry.

“Here. You fire, I’ll reload.” He handed her his own pistol and took Cooper’s empty one from her.

How hard could it be? Especially since the pistols didn’t seem able to hit anything. She sighted down the barrel and waited for one of the targets to appear.

Half a face emerged and a pistol fired toward her. Jill pulled the trigger—the brass mechanism on top of the pistol snapped forward and the weapon fired, jumping in her hand. A cloud of white smoke expanded and partially blinded her. She coughed and waved it out of her face.

The two men were still there, still firing. Her shot probably flew out over the harbor. She huffed in frustration. She hated missing.

“Next shot,” Henry said, handing her Cooper’s newly loaded pistol and taking the empty from her.

She repeated her fencing mantra. Stay calm, keep breathing, don’t panic. She just had to be careful and take her time.

From around the stack of barrels, a pistol appeared again, its owner leaning out to take aim. Jill exhaled and squeezed her finger. The pistol jumped, burned with fire, and the cloud of smoke burst into her face.

And at the other end of the block, a man screamed.

“Oh, good work, Jill!” Henry said, laughing.

She couldn’t believe it, but when the smoke cleared, one of Blane’s men had fallen, gripping his arm and cursing. His companion started to drag him back to cover, when he twitched back—and Captain Cooper was there, slicing a dagger across his throat. Blood poured, and he fell, hands on his neck, hopelessly trying to stop the flow. Then he lay still.

Cooper put her boot on the chest of the man Jill had shot and leaned over to cut his throat as well. The two had been so distracted by Jill and Henry firing at them,

they hadn’t noticed their killer sneaking up behind.

The two bodies lay there, blood dripping from them and soaking into the ground. Jill could almost smell it, sharp and bitter against the dank sea air. Her stomach clenched, and she pressed her hand over her mouth and turned away. After a moment of shallow breathing her stomach settled and her racing heart calmed. The battle was one thing; the blood spilled then had happened too quickly to really process. This was different. She could see their eyes, open and staring at nothing. This looked like murder—even if the men had been trying to kill them. Cooper had slit their throats, and that wasn’t self-defense, was it? What, then, was the difference between a duel and murder?

Her heart racing, Jill wasn’t sure how she felt about this battle in miniature. It didn’t seem right, none of it. Even if they’d had every intention of killing her and her friends. But she’d never seen anyone die before.

She preferred baited blades and no blood.

“You all right, then?” Henry asked. Jill just shook her head.

Cooper returned to them, wiping off her dagger with a handkerchief.

“Here comes Abe with the rowboat,” the captain said.

Abe and Tennant ran the boat ashore, and the others climbed in, splashing in the waves and pushing off. Henry and Abe took the oars, and in moments they were slipping across the harbor. Skillfully, the two cut the water without a splash, with barely a ripple. Cooper stood at the prow of the boat, scanning forward. The harbor was quiet.

“I wish I knew where Blane’s bloody ship was. I fear he’s circling just outside the harbor, waiting for us to sail out so he can pounce on us,” Cooper said. “We’ll get to the Diana and make our escape for nothing.”

“He’s anchored in a cove to the east,” Jill said. “He’s got a camp there. I don’t think he can get here to catch us in time.”

“I don’t know, lass. Blane’s got tricky ways about him, and he’ll want that sword back.” Now she grinned. “That must have been quite a sight, you taking it from him.”