AUTHOR'S NOTE: A massive thanks to oturlu for helping to point out that this is an alternate universe fic i.e. I have given myself a bit of creative license, I should have stated that at the beginning of the first chapter or in the synopsis. So if you've been reading and wondering where I got my ideas from, that's why. Thanks for reading!

Chapter Three

Leaping Over the Flames

I woke up with a start some indefinite time later. I was reclining in my leather study chair still in my underclothes, and a book was laid out on my chest. I really was no better than Piastol for reading late at night.

It was then that I knew I could definitely smell something. It was a thick stench, like treacle or tanned leather, and it was coming from above. I heard muffled shouts, banging, bustling activity. In the pit of my stomach I knew something wasn't quite right. Now I could smell lamp oil. Maybe something had knocked over a lantern on the deck and now there was a small fire. I thought that since I was up, I may as well venture forth and see if I could be of any help.

I was just rising from my chair and slipping my white coat over my shoulders when I heard the first boom of cannon fire.

In the split seconds between the thunderous explosion and the first impact on the cabin side of the ship, I had to check myself twice to be sure I'd heard correctly. Then my books started flying out of the bookshelf opposite my desk, one by one as I looked at them, almost as if by telekinesis. I lurched forwards onto my knees with the impact and grabbed the edge of my desk for stability.

I hasten to say that for a few minutes I was too petrified to move. It was only after three more shots in succession were fired, and I had to crawl underneath the heavy wooden desk for protection from the flying projectiles did I hear Maria scream from the next room. Her scream propelled me into action as adrenaline coursed through me and powered my legs into mobility. I ran to my door as wood splintered above my head, threw it open with enough force to almost tear it from the hinges, ran down the corridor and grasped for the doorknob of the girls' room as if for dear life. I flung the door open.

Maria screamed again, perhaps thinking I was a marauder. Their books and toys were all over the floor, and I noticed with horror that the lantern had fallen onto the floor and ignited the space between the girls' beds. The oil was spreading over the books and increasing the fire as the seconds passed.

Piastol was stood up on her pillow, trying desperately to climb up onto the bookcase out of the way of the fire. The flames licked at her bedcovers and started to creep up them onto her mattress. Maria began to cry. I stamped at the flames, despairing at my own helplessness. "Hold on!" I cried to Piastol, as her stocking-clad feet slipped on the polished wood.

Then as if it were as easy as falling, I watched her bend down and prepare herself before leaping over the angry flames towards her sister's bed. She landed with ease right next to Maria and scooped her up in the blankets like a treasure.

I was astounded. It was this little girl's bravery that led me to take off my coat and throw it over the flames at Piastol, making sure she covered herself before marching unafraid into the fire and clasping both girls under each of my arms. I leapt like a beast away from the flames, keeping both children swathed in the coat and blankets. I ignored the searing heat of the fire and the slick hot oil coating my work boots. It felt as though I was walking on coals.

We made it through the doorway and staggered as one into the corridor, where already a riot was beginning. I fell gasping for breath at the food-stained boots of Gaston. He bent down and clasped me by the shoulders in desperation.

"Get up, Doctor; take the girls and get out!" He shook me roughly. "There's been a raid! Don't go back for nothin'!" He bundled Maria and the blankets into my lap, tried to raise me to my feet. In all the years, this was the fastest I'd seen him move. "Get out, out to the lifeboats, out while you can."

He squeezed my shoulder one last time, before fleeing down the corridor and down the stairs to the lower deck.

I glanced at Maria and Piastol. Maria was crying silently, and this worried me a great deal more than if she had been wailing in fear. Piastol's face shone with heat and tears. I had to leave, but I knew I could not leave without ensuring the safety of Admiral Mendosa. The girls needed somewhere safe to hide, where the looters and rioters would not bother them. Something made me think of the engine rooms, where I had first found the boy Ramirez, crouched behind the main engine, warming himself on the pipes. There was nothing of value in the engine rooms, and the girls were small enough to go unnoticed if they squeezed behind the pipes.

I took Piastol's clammy hand. "Come on," I said, hoisting Maria onto my hip and unsteadily starting off in the same direction as Gaston. As we were running, Piastol gazed at me.

"We have to find father." She said it as if it had just dawned on her. I felt her hand stiffen in panic. "We have to find father," she repeated to me, almost stopping. I dragged on her arm to keep her going. Our footsteps turned to clanking as we reached the dull metal floors of the lower deck.

"Piastol, you have to stay here -" She froze again in fear and indignation. "Please, stay here. I promise I will go and find your father and bring him to you. I promise."

"Father, father," lamented Maria as I put her down and tucked her behind the ship's thick, humming pipes with her blankets as protection. "I promise," I said to Piastol's glowing face. She looked just as she did when she was bearing down to jump over the flames. "I will be back for you. Wait here and stay out of sight."

"No, no, no," cried Maria silently, and my heart almost stopped beating. As I turned to leave, I remembered my knife. I unsheathed it quickly and thrust it into Piastol's open, trembling hand. Maria flinched at the sight of it. I closed Piastol's fingers over the hilt. "Take it. Use it if you need to."

Forcing myself not to glance back, I turned and fled down the cold metal corridor and up the stairs. I noticed the flames now bursting out of Maria and Piastol's room like an uncaged beast, ravaging the wood in its path. I fled past it and leapt over my door, which had fallen clean off of its hinges. I glanced into my room and saw that the fire had started to spread through the walls, the ceiling was giving way with smouldering planks falling like deathly arrows.

Passing many members of crew fleeing the other way, I raced up to the deck. Anything I could have imagined was better than what I saw. I noticed, at first, the great mast had been rendered in two and the crow's nest, now ablaze, was swinging just above head height like a pendulum. I watched in horror as a handful of the crew ran by, and one who was just not quick enough was struck by the flaming pole and sent flying overboard without a sound.

There was broken glass underfoot. I could barely hear a thing over the crackle of flame, and as I cried out in vain for the Admiral I realised that the cabin was almost completely destroyed. The rubble from its steel hold was scattered about the deck, splitting the deck of the ship in half. I could hear shouts from over the piles of splintered wood and rendered metal.

Remembering my promise, I fled past the swinging mast and tried to find a place safe enough to climb. I touched the metal and found it seared the palms of my hands. The air grew thick with the scent of burning skin as I ignored the pain and climbed over the wreckage.

Finally, I saw the other side of the ship. There had obviously been a cannon blast that blew the cabin apart. I saw the heavy leather case that held the telescope and sextant, and for some reason I propelled myself towards it, groping in the fatal mixture of glass, ash and splinter.

And then I heard the muffled cry of the Admiral. He was laying on his front on the wooden deck merely five metres ahead of me as I lunged for the case. His hand grasped for me as his naked eyes recognised me. His spectacles lay mangled a few feet away.

I forgot everything as I lunged towards him and gripped his arm. There were flames creeping up the bow, I was aware that I had to move him away, until I saw the red glimmer of blood leaking from his side like the oil leaking from the upturned lantern. I saw that the blade that had dealt the would was as thick as the length of my finger, and the assailant had thrust it upwards through the abdomen into the ribcage, probably breaking some of the ribs and definitely rupturing the right lung and possibly other organs. How I hated my knowledge of anatomy and medicine just then. I loathed it in spite, because I knew immediately from the amount of blood seeping from him that it was too late to save him.

My breath rasped hoarsely, as did his. "P-Pia-s-s-tol," he gasped. "M-M-aria?"

"Safe, they are safe," I choked, clasping his hand. He gripped me tightly, possibly as a reaction to the pain.

"Save them," he said, almost as clearly and loudly as usual, piercing me with his intense gaze. "P-Promise-"

"I swear," I said, sweat pouring into my eyes. I hadn't noticed that flames had engulfed the sleeve of his left arm. I only realised it was happening when I smelt the burning as his hair heated and caught aflame.

"Go," he said, with all the sadness and resignation of a dying man. I then realised horribly that his bottle of oil was still in his pocket. It had broken and the thick substance was mingling with the blood on the floor and on his robes.

I finally let go of his hand as his body caught fire. For a brief second he looked illuminated, full of wonder like a heavenly being; then I turned my face in grief and cowardice, grasping the leather case once more as if for comfort, and throwing myself towards the rubble and back towards the Admiral's daughters with sweat and tears pouring from me.