TWENTY-FIVE

For a time, sailing is easy and calm. I don't try to speak to Alice again, even though I see her frequently enough. Each time I set eyes on her, she gives me a small, cryptic smile that sets me to work faster. As if I can exhaust myself from remembering her foolishness.

I don't see Isabella often, which is just as well because Lord knows what I'd do in my current state.

For his part, Jasper doesn't say anything about my new work ethic; he merely matches it.

I want to ask him about his relationship with Alice, but I don't want to bring up the seeress, lest I let out what it was she implied to me.

So we work, and often it is silent, letting out my frustration on the ship.

…

It's been three days since my conversation with Alice, and though I cannot get her words from my mind—and worse, what they imply—I am less pent-up about it. Mostly, I'm exhausted from overworking myself.

It is past dusk when I finally settle into my bed, my fatigued body falling instantly to sleep. My mind sinks immediately into dreams, though the piratess' constant face in my mind provides me no sound sleep.

I'm awoken what feels less than a minute later by Jasper shoving my cutlass into my chest.

"What?" I croak, blinking hard.

"Pirates!" Jasper shouts.

I'm out of my bed as fast as I can, shoving on my boots and grabbing my pistol.

Above us, I can hear a mighty clanging on deck. I swear, sending a swift prayer up for our crew before Jasper and I burst onto the deck.

A sword comes swinging toward my neck almost immediately. I duck under it, withdrawing my cutlass from its sheath and spinning to duel the fiend.

The pirates are slight, with dark hair and wide faces. I cannot begin to guess where they are from, though they don't look like anyone from the African continent that I've ever met.

I don't have much time to think about it, for the pirate advances me, his thick blade swinging again.

My body is fatigued, but that exhaustion flees from me as I fight, maneuvering across the deck until I've struck the pirate down and he is tumbling overboard, a large wound in his gut. He'll either find his way back to his ship, or he'll find his grave below the waves.

Either way, he is not my concern anymore, and I turn to aid my crewmates.

A larger pirate steps toward me, and before I can move out of the way, his blade is slicing my left arm. I let out a hiss of pain and lunge at him, nicking him on the side. He grunts, and we begin the dance of sword fighting. He is well trained, wherever he may be from, and our duel is evenly matched.

My body is growing more weary, my recent fatigue eating at my limbs. The pirate and I move across the deck, locked in a fierce battle. I cannot give in, but my body is drained and I can feel my strength starting to fail me.

The pirate lunges, and I trip, flying backward. My head hits the rail behind me, and I can feel the coarseness of ropes as I land heavily on the deck before blackness takes over my vision.

There is one last thought that floats through my scrambled mind before I lose consciousness.

I should have kissed that wretched piratess.