The Betrayed Marionette

~.~.~

Ikuto's tone was utterly exasperated.

"What do you mean we're stranded?"

Before him, the small group of pirates looked away sheepishly. One by one they hushed, averting their gaze to the waterlogged earth beneath their feet which was becoming far more interesting than the pointed glare of their Captain. There was an uncomfortable silence during which the only discernible sounds were the growing chorus of the jungle behind them; the ever-present symphony of the pouring rain; and, as an undertone, the distant crashing of the waves below. The rain had not yet reached the horizon and, though the clouds hung grim and dark over their heads, they could see that the sun was beginning to set golden over the waters. Here, high above the waves, the sky and sea were mingling in bold hues of orange and purple, smudged with soft, pink spreads of cloud.

In fact, the daylight had nearly waned altogether and the squall had near-consumed them by the time it became apparent that none of the men were prepared to answer. Ikuto breathed a brusque sort of sigh. "Well?" He gestured to the growing shadows all about them. The downpour was surrounding the jungle by the second. "Anytime you're ready, of course."

Amu watched with mild amusement as cautious looks passed between the sorry band of buccaneers. It was like watching a row of children who were all too reluctant to admit which one of them had raided the pantry. It was like that time when she was six and Tadase's mother had demanded to know which of them had spilt the contents of his father's inkwell all over her finest oriental rug. Honestly, Amu couldn't remember which of them had done it (in hindsight, it had probably been a bit of a team effort), but she thought that they must have looked hilarious, side-eyeing each other back and forth whilst Mizue Hotori stood glowering over them like the tempest that swallowed them now.

Presently, and perhaps quite predictably, it was Utau who found her voice first.

"It's the tide." She said finally. "It's swallowed the spit that makes this barrier island accessible."

Ikuto blinked. "'Barrier island'?" He repeated, looking all about them. Amu was just as perplexed. It suddenly occurred to them that they in fact had no idea just where the exit to those dreadful tunnels underground had left them. To think that they had been led so far from that initial hatchway… Well, it shouldn't have been surprising, given the length of time they had spent trapped down there, but it made them falter nonetheless.

Utau nodded. "We are on the leeward side of the isle." She said. "The water had been shallow when we came to this place, but now the strait's too deep for anyone to cross without a boat."

"An' I don't fancy a swim much." One of the pirates piped up in the background. "'Specially under this deluge."

"There might be currents," Amu murmured, the realisation dawning on her almost as quickly as the sky was darkening overhead. "The rain will only make it worse."

At this Ikuto's irritation was quelled significantly, but was quickly replaced by a sort of dread. After all, to be stuck away from the ship was bad enough, but to be caught away in the driving rain at night was much more serious. He sighed and closed his eyes beneath the brim of his hat which was dropping by the second as the raindrops danced upon it. Meanwhile, Amu, who was much more resigned to their fate than he was, shook out her sodden fringe from her lashes and pouted.

"Ah, and to think I was almost hopeful of a nice, warm bed this evening."

"Such is the life of a pirate, eh, ma'am?" Kukai's smile was somewhat forced as he held a broken palm frond over his head. Little droplets of water were sliding back down the stem and about his wrists, drenching his cuffs. Only he could have spoken so seriously whilst sporting the most pathetic impersonation of a parasol in existence. "I could do with a kip, no doubt, but first we oughta find someplace sheltered to keep outta this downpour. Might not be dry, nor warm… But I don't fancy this much."

And he muttered something along the lines of "fuckin' freezin'" whilst the crew murmured their thoughts of approval. Even Amu found herself inclined to nod along. This place might have been positively scorching throughout the day, but the night was rolling in fast and the miserable weather would only smother what little warmth might have otherwise lingered about the undergrowth. It was in their best interests to find a place to wait out the tide - and quickly.

"Come on." Utau said, voice full of authority. "If we can rest down by the shore then we can attempt to cross the strait in the morning. Otherwise it may rise again whilst we're away."

The pirates, offering up no other ideas, could come to no other resolution. Wearily, for they had been marching all day, they began to regather their gear and various packs when out of nowhere their Captain spoke;

"From which front did you come by this place?"

There was a pause. Kukai shrugged. "Not far from here." He replied. "The spit lay southwest of the isle, sir."

"Well, in that case there should be a second spit on the windward side of the isle." Ikuto said. He sounded distracted, as though he was slowly mulling something important over in his head.

Amu cottoned on to his train of thought quicker than the rest. Her eyes grew wide in understanding. "Ikuto, there's no way!" She said, aghast.

"What?" Kukai frowned, slowly catching on. "You ain't gonna try and cross it?"

Their Captain glowered at him. His tone was scalding. "Okay, fine, we'll see if any of you sorry lot can come up with some other plan besides sitting here stranded in the pissing rain!" And he folded his arms across his chest. "Otherwise I might be inclined to demand a full explanation as to why you're all wasting time on this pitiful rock instead of scouring the main isle for signs of Kazuomi and his men."

There was silence. All eyes fell upon Kukai as their scapegoat. The man looked hopelessly flustered.

"W-Well, now that ya mention it, Cap'n, the windward spit might've looked sturdier-"

"Kukai!" Utau hissed. "Don't encourage him!"

"Well it might've! He's our Captain, Utau!"

"This is all your fault anyway!" She spat, lilac eyes utterly menacing under strands of wet hair. "You're the one who went gallivanting off into the trees chasing ghost ships!"

"But we're here ta check the place out, I thought you'da wanted to see what was here!"

"What I want, Souma, is to throw you into the strait myself and use your big, inflated head as a dinghy!"

By this point, the crew about them were watching with a mix of mild fascination and horror as Utau and Kukai's petty argument turned into a shouting match. Ikuto opened his mouth to scold them, but Amu got there faster;

"Oh be quiet, the pair of you!" She placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes between them. "I've had enough! Honestly, only old married couples bicker like you do!"

The two of them shut up immediately, looking pointedly away from each other like quarrelsome children who had just been told to play nice. Ikuto rolled his eyes, but said nothing of it. Instead, he addressed the rest of his men.

"Anyway, back to where we were. I don't know about the rest of you, but I won't be able to find rest anywhere here tonight unless I can go and look on the opposite side of the island myself." And he looked to each of them; "Who's with me?"

One by one the pirates cast each other doubtful glances - little reluctant looks and quiet murmurs spreading between them. But eventually, with no other alternative, they duly fell into agreement with their Captain. There was a round of half-hearted "aye"s and other such affirmations and they gathered up their packs, ready to trudge their way back through the trees and soaking undergrowth. As it happened, Utau's little group, who had expected to have long been retired to the Shining Black by now or, at the very least, camped out by a glowing fire on the beach where they'd first drawn up to the main isle, were running low on supplies and there was a shadow of doubt growing over whether they'd have enough scraps of food to make it through the night. They resolved to forage for anything edible as they went along. Having spent the day trapped and away from the crew, this was particularly disheartening news to Amu. Hunger was beginning to gnaw at her.

"Ah," she huffed; "where's Yaya when you need her?"

Kukai wholeheartedly agreed. He tightened his belt and shrugged on his pack with reluctance. "Man, this must be what being marooned is like." He piped up miserably, glancing up at the canopy and squinting through the rain.

Utau sent him the most incredulous look in existence. Then she rolled her eyes. "Sure," she said after a moment's reflection. "Only, if we were marooned, I would've shot myself already rather than listen to you witter on."

Amu had to take a moment to keep her composure after that, so taken aback at possibly the most scathing retort she'd ever witnessed, but, unbelievably, Kukai just laughed and, now that she looked closer, there was a mischievous twinkle in Utau's eye that had become so familiar to her in the countenance of her brother. Amu frowned, watching curiously as they prepared for their trek. All of a sudden her mind travelled back to the night they had spent on their previous isle - to the sight of the two locked together as they sheltered from the dreadful unknown. A suspicion was beginning to nag at the back of her mind. In the end, she had to bite her lip in an effort to stop herself from grinning knowingly as the realisation dawned upon her.

But there was no time to dwell on it. They made off into the trees. One man had had enough sense to bring a covered lantern in anticipation of a long walk through the dark and so on in the little light of a single candle they went. Ikuto took up his cutlass and led the way, cutting a path through the sodden foliage. Kukai was next and the man with the lantern beside him. The princess fell back, allowing herself to grow familiar in her quartermaster's company as she followed them from the rear. As the shadows gathered all around them, Amu relayed all that had happened to Utau: the hatch; the deathly pit; the network of old, abandoned tunnels beneath the isle and the workings of the long-forgotten gold mine. No detail did she leave untold and by the end of Amu's story, Utau looked visibly depressed.

"So he is not here then." She said, almost to herself. "Damn, and I'd have thought a mineshaft riddled with gold would have been the perfect place to catch Kazuomi and all his thugs."

Amu had to agree with this. "Yes, but no one has been down there in years." She said, stepping over a fallen log in their path and trying not to slip as she set her foot back down on the wet leaves below. "Not even Ichinomiya, I shouldn't think. Otherwise all of his traps would have been triggered long ago and there wouldn't have been a tunnel left to explore in the first place."

Her quartermaster nodded grimly. "How typical. Just like him to leave a few nasty surprises down there for us. How abhorrent."

"It was… Truly terrifying."

And terrifying it had been, Amu thought even here unbound in the wider world, for even the feel of the grass nor wind nor even the rain could lessen the shadow that still hung over her head when she thought back to those past few hours. So caught up in the memory of it was she that she barely even heard when Utau spoke;

"Is that why the two of you were clinging to each other like children when at last we came upon you?" She asked with just a hint of mock-disdain. "Honestly," Utau rolled her pretty eyes. "You two and your public displays of affection."

Amu flushed brilliantly before feeling a little bit of indignance flare up within her chest. "Oh, really?" She challenged. "Well at least we're not constantly at loggerheads!"

Their quartermaster flinched, suddenly looking a little pale. A barely perceptible blush crept its way across ivory cheeks, if Amu was not so mistaken. "I don't know what you're talking about." She said haughtily. Amu could have laughed aloud. As it was, she settled on a particularly amused expression, replying slyly;

"Oh, is that so? You're positive there's absolutely nothing between you and a certain shiphand?"

Utau scoffed. "That's absurd!" She waved a hand before her face as if to dismiss the notion. "There's nothing going on with anyone! You are certainly full of fantasies, Your Highness."

But Amu was feeling bold now, relishing in the way the blonde's defences were oh-so quickly crumbling. "'Nothing going on'?" She began doubtfully. "The bickering; the name-calling; the way you stick so solidly beside each other when we go off to explore these god-forbidden places…" She listed off the reasons on her fingertips, Utau growing increasingly uncomfortable beside her, to her amusement. Then she laughed. "Ikuto and I found you cuddled up inside a tree trunk! If that doesn't smack of newly-sprung, if juvenile, romance, then I don't know what does!"

Privately, Amu was quite proud of her teasing. It was almost fun and in that moment she almost thought she'd gotten back at Utau tenfold for all the times she had openly taunted her and Ikuto about their relationship, even if it had only been in jest. But Utau smirked then in a way that reminded the princess overwhelmingly of her older brother and it was in that moment that she knew she was in for it.

"What's juvenile is the way you and my brother pine after each other day in, day out!"

At this, Amu was almost glad for the ever-present roar of the rain on the jungle leaves, if only because it meant that none of the men could hear them. Up ahead, Ikuto and Kukai were utterly oblivious that the two women were talking so casually about their private lives - if anything could be so private aboard one ship. But Utau wasn't done.

"Honestly," she tutted; "after all you two have been through, you're no closer today than the day you jumped after him into the ocean."

Something stung at that. Amu lost a bit of her playful edge. She faltered, suddenly feeling quite small. "W-What do you mean?"

If Utau had been coming off as cruel, she certainly hadn't meant it. That was what Amu guessed, anyway, from the cheeky smirk on her face. "Well, what I mean is, for all my brother's impertinence, I don't suppose that the two of you have ventured beyond a kiss. I still sleep across the corridor from your cabin, don't you forget!"

It was her turn to blush now, for she knew exactly what the blonde beside her was insinuating. Privately, Amu thought of lamplight and lavender and her heart quickened rapidly within her chest, but there was no way she was about to tell Utau - Ikuto's sister - just how close she had been coming to the brink of desire recently; just how desperately her heart had come to yearn for something more with every touch; every shared glance; every ghost of a kiss. No, it would be way too personal and there was not a chance she would risk the possibility of such talk making its way back to Ikuto - the object of her affection! That would have been way too embarrassing, she was sure her soul would leave her on the spot! She could just picture him now. "Such a dirty mind," he would surely say, smirking so slyly; "how unladylike!". Well, she thought, it was unladylike. And she was still unsure of whether she was bold enough to act upon it.

Amu was broken from these thoughts by a snigger. Utau looked thoroughly pleased at the redness of the princess' cheeks, but, for once, she didn't mind. If anything, it told her that the younger Tsukiyomi's jab at her romantic life had not meant to cut so deep. It was instead merely her karma for poking into her own complicated relationship with Kukai. So relieved was Amu at this that she laughed along with her.

"Well." Utau said after a moment, still smiling. "Ikuto's found his happiness. And I suppose that's all that matters."

Ahead of them, the shadows were lightening as the deluge finally drew to an end. The fires were burning brighter, illuminating the wet foliage around them. The gentle 'pat-pat-pat' of water droplets falling onto hats and coats and fronds was a pleasant sound as opposed to the hiss of the driving rain. Amu could see Ikuto's blue coat up ahead. Her heart swelled at the thought.

"Perhaps." She said. And she leaned in to Utau's side. "But I think it might be your turn now, Utau."

This time Utau really did blush, looking as though she could barely comprehend the notion. "With-With Kukai?" She spluttered.

Amu nodded and this time all hint of jest was gone because, at this point, the heiress knew that she would stick by this fiery woman until the very end, no matter what, and if this would really bring her as much happiness as she had found aboard the Shining Black, then she wanted to help it happen.

Utau looked about to argue then, but one look in Amu's earnest eyes stopped her. She pouted. Then she sighed and Amu knew she'd won a battle.

"Damn the blaggard."

Amu laughed lightly. "That's the spirit, Utau!"

There was a groan in response that only made her chuckle harder and the two fell into a natural silence. They picked up their pace, aware that they'd been dragging behind. Up ahead, the men were locked in conversation.

"You should know, Souma, that I'm not above keelhauling the lot of you." Ikuto threw in cooly. "Especially if this is all you have to show for a day's work."

Coming up beside them, Utau shot Kukai a sly look, the beginnings of some cutting comment on the tip of her tongue when-

"That includes you, Utau." Ikuto cut in before she could start another argument. "Now, if any of you want to make yourself useful, get up here, draw out your cutlasses and clear a path because I'm about to drop dead." The men dutifully did so, Utau included. Ikuto fell back behind them, though he looked perfectly capable of doing the work just as they did. Amu concluded that he just wanted to make them suffer a little. She bit her lip to hide a smile and wandered on beside him.

"That's it," he went on; "get this lot shifted because if I have to spend the whole god-forsaken night trapped atop this rock, I'll have you all in irons, understand?"

The only reply was the singing of steel and the creaking of the branches as they were hewn down before them. Amu and Ikuto strolled behind at a far more leisurely pace. By now the rain had ceased to a drizzle. Evidently it had been just a tropical storm, nothing unusual by any means and fairly short-lived. It was by now certainly nightfall. Their lantern was all they had to shine light on the jungle. They stayed close to the light, the shadows of the trees pressing in all around them.

"What have you all been doing here, anyway?" Ikuto finally asked in between the crashing of blades. "This place certainly isn't big enough for a safehouse, I shouldn't think."

There was a moment where nothing was said as the party paused to regather their thoughts. Then the whole company stopped. Several men looked as though they'd just had an epiphany. Amu frowned, uneasy.

"What's wrong?"

Kukai turned to the man beside him. "The galleon!" he said, shaking his head and grinning as though he couldn't believe they had all been missing something so glaringly obvious. Several whispers broke out through the clearing at this, Utau included;

"But of course!"

"Galleon?" Ikuto interrupted, looking perplexed and for good reason. "What galleon?"

Utau sheathed her cutlass and came up beside him, eyes wide in their little light; "There's a galleon wrecked on the windward side of this island." She pointed out into the jungle. "It's what brought us over here in the first place. Kukai spotted its masts from the main isle."

"If the spit on the other side o' the isle is submerged like the first, we might be able to cross the strait in one o' the ol' jolly-boats." Kukai added in. "I didn't get a good look-see at it - we were only able to look down on it from the clifftop - but if they're sea-worthy…"

Evidently this had been the thought of the crew, Amu and Ikuto realised. This news was more than welcome to Amu who by this point was starting to shake in her boots, chilled to the core and chattering under the weight of her waterlogged (and frustratingly useless) skirts. By now it felt as though the Shining Black was beckoning to her and the thought of reaching her warm, dry bed; of clean, dry clothes; and of a cooked, non-soggy meal was almost too big a temptation to resist, especially when the prospect of curling up amongst wet leaves and sinking into the muddy earth in place of a mattress was her only alternative until morning.

"You could do that?" She jumped upon this suggestion before Ikuto could get a word in. "How far is it?"

"Twenty minutes hike from here?" Kukai replied uncertainly. "Maybe thirty in this damned mud."

"We needn't carry them back through the jungle…" Utau mumbled, thinking over the whole scenario carefully in her head. "If the galleon's boats are still watertight we could row straight out of the cove and back to the Shining Black."

A flicker of hope was sparkling into life within Amu's chest, warming her ice-cold limbs as the spring melts the winter frost, rejuvenating, bringing forth the tender, green shoots of new life at its coming. The men evidently felt it too, for there was a daring optimism encroaching into their voices now. One by one they turned to their Captain, who until now had not said a word. He looked to be considering this for a moment. Then he sighed.

"Well, it looks like you've all made up your mind at any rate." Ikuto began. Seeing no harm in their plan, he conceded; "Alright. Lead on."

~.~.~

Overhead the rain clouds that had brought in the evening's tempest were beginning to clear; great, black clouds gradually beginning to retreat into the north, carried away by the gathering sea breeze, for here on the eastern side of the barrier isle the wind was strongest. Billows of air that had travelled uninterrupted for leagues upon leagues of endless sea washed wet and chill over the jungle until the palms and all the innumerable, leafy fronds dripped with the crisp beginnings of the morning dew. Below the height of the headland, the waves were crashing white and foamy about the feet of the cliffs…

And, even though the night was dark and perilous, as the storm clouds finally drew away, the gigantic, eerie skeleton of the galleon lay outlined in the silvery glow of the moon.

Amu, standing atop a great precipice and looking down upon such a spectacle, felt herself grow awash with chills. But it was not courtesy of the breeze. An exclamation of awe left her lips. To emerge but a step from the treeline was an action insignificant enough, but to her it felt as though she had wandered all at once into some long-forgotten realm. 'Chasing ghost ships', Utau had said back at the beginning of their little hike. And she had not been wrong. A ghost ship this was. Amu could feel its presence even as they descended down into the cove and the trees beside her once more blocked it from view. Their journey was slow and fraught with peril, for here the rocks were still wet from the rain and they were hard-pressed to find a single, smooth path down the ridge, but soon they found themselves standing on a rocky shore riddled with rock pools, twinkling under the glimmer of the sky above so serenely that at first Amu had thought that there were little glowing creatures flitting about beneath the surface of the water.

Everyone hushed as they gazed upon the wreck. The peak to their left, her masts rose to compete with the island's height. She had been run aground about halfway into the deep shallows of the cove, though half of her still lay in the calm of the sea where she had originally belonged. There was a break in her beakhead and her bowsprit was cracked, caught under the weight of her fallen foremast, pressed tightly up against the rocky wall of the opposite cliffs. Her taffrail was hand-carved to the finest degree and even in the dark they could see that it was inlaid with what might have once been the most spectacular touch of gold. Every so often Amu thought she could catch a glimpse of red pigment or a flash of fine blue, as though ground from garnet and tanzanite, and the remains of such weathered guardian figures gracing the line of her transom was such a sight to behold that the princess was sure that she - whoever she might have been - must have once sat as the jewel in the crown of her monarch's fleet, for surely no other could have afforded to commission such a beauty as she.

In fact, there was silence even as they neared her. The only sound was the sloshing of the waters as they ventured further into the shadow of the galleon, the only entrance to her interior being the great, gaping wound that ran along her side, half-submerged in the tide. When at last they came up beside her, Amu's fingertips met the coarse, weathered touch of ancient wood, for surely she had to have been almost a century old at least. She paused, as if waiting for her to let out a breath as that of a mighty, fallen beast. She hesitated;

"Is it safe?" She asked, casting a wary glance up at the towering ship above her. Knowing her luck she'd take one step up unto the desk and put a foot straight through the planks. As if on cue a gust of tropical breeze rustled through the surrounding foliage and the galleon groaned as if in answer.

Ikuto chuckled quietly. "What do you think?" He said, standing in the shadow of the gaping maw in her hull. Amu stared apprehensively into the ship's belly. "Come on." He held out a hand. And then he added devilishly; "After all, I'll be right beside you."

Amu was too awestruck to even huff. She merely took his hand and, struggling against the weight of her soaking skirts, they clambered into the gloom.

The empty cavern of the galleon's orlop was consumed with the echoing splashes of their companions. Right up to her waist the waves lapped into the husk of the once-mighty craft and odd bits of weed and smatterings of foam circled all around them. It would have probably been easier to swim, for it was dark and disorientating and the entire place was turned near on its side so that at times the odd currents of the water and the occasional break in the lopsided floor gave the dizzying effect that the whole place was still sliding; still slumping sidewards unto its final resting place. Through the layers upon layers of broken hatchways the moon's light slithered through just enough so that they could discern their path - wading over fallen debris and half-decayed, upturned planks that jutted out from the darkness. Remnants of her kelson and pieces of rudder lingered still beneath the deepest, darkest parts of the waters on which she'd made her grave and in this way they reached the first companionway to the upper decks. They climbed with trepidation, the galleon protesting with every step they took. Thinking about it, Amu wondered if it was odd to think that this old girl deserved a bit of a whinge as this group of ragtag pirates violated her henceforth unbroken year's worth of privacy.

She had been devastated by the rocks, Amu realised. Devastated by rocks and winds and perhaps even cannon fire, for as she passed carefully through the first of the old gun decks she saw that the majority of her port side was blown near-clean away. She could see the seaweed glistening on the cliff edge - could see the salt-loving creepers and roots that webbed their way across the rock beginning to claw at the galleon's wounds. Had the moon been fuller and the pirates been brave enough to teeter so near to the edge on these hazardous planks, they would have seen far below the ghostly outlines of many cannons lurking like sharks upon the seabed. Their tracks had dug deep into the floorboards, staining the planks black with sodden powder and downwards towards the blue abyss beneath there shone like webs of silver moonlight the ripple of the waves, dotted by starlight, glowing upon clusters of red coral; splinters of encrusted wood wedged beneath the seabed covered in weeds; fish darting upon crystalline sands…

The deck groaned eerily as they advanced towards the next companion and Amu stilled, heart thumping, waiting for the cacophony to end - for the beast to fall back into a woeful slumber. And woeful it was, for here the ravages of time and decay were painfully clear to all who now tip-toed within her hull. Here there was reflected the moon's light in the shattered remains of broken lamps, glistening like fallen stars beneath their feet; there the aged planks grew green and slick with algae where the tide had risen beneath the sun and crept its leafy tendrils in through the great chasm bored in her side; and everywhere around that fractured crew the galleon still echoed and sighed as though some great behemoth had stirred once more to life at their coming. Here and there, the darkness was punctuated by the sound of someone's boots squelching in sludge or the crunch and brittle shattering of broken bits of coral. Amu looked down at a cluster of salt-encrusted mollusc shells and wondered…

Perhaps she had been sunk at sea? Or had she been merely washed here by the great current that cut across the ocean waves but some leagues south? Certainly this ship lacked many effects of the men who sailed her. Perhaps it was that the majority of such things were lost to the depths. Or perhaps she'd already been picked clean, Amu thought. Perhaps she had been here long ago - back when there was gold; back in the days when an unruly pirate Captain had chosen these shores to secure their latest safehouse…

The group moved on. They pressed ahead, their dripping garments pitter-pattering out of time until the whole hull seemed full with their echoes. It was almost too difficult to navigate the companionways in the dark. Each step was tentative, cautious, for they were walking blindly, hoping to avoid the rotted breaks between the steps which gaped like empty maws reaching down, down, down into the depths of the beast's belly.

"Be careful." Someone whispered as they guided the group around a couple of missing planks - and quite appropriate it was to whisper too out of respect for the old galleon and all she had been through until they were once more in the open air, stood aboard the deck beneath a canopy of shining stars spread like diamonds across the blue, inky night above. A rush of fresh air greeted their faces and caressed their cheeks. There was a breeze drifting across the deck, rustling the palm trees that hung over the beach, some leaning precariously from the sheer face of the cliff, and all around the still calm of night was broken only by the breath of the waves beneath them. Amu looked up and saw that the yards were all beaten and broken, sticking up like gigantic splinters towards the sky.

Once they were all safely gathered, Ikuto balanced himself on the uneven deck by holding onto an equally uneven piece of railing and regarded this newly-discovered ship with a critical eye.

"Does she have boats aboard?"

The crew was unsure.

"Take a look around." Ikuto said. And then, as a plank creaked deafeningly beneath his feet; "And be careful."

Careful everyone was without a doubt. No one fancied the prospect of injury over a loose board or rickety staircase - especially those who were descending back down into the darkness to fulfil their Captain's request. Amu understood their thinking. If there were longboats aboard, such as should have been kept aplenty on such a grand vessel, then there was a chance that they might row back across the flooded spit and back to the Shining Black before dawn. But before she could get caught up in the search, Amu's attention was drawn elsewhere.

Across the deck, the light of the moon had caught upon a shard of glass and its reflection was glistening softly against the foliage that had crept back onto the galleon's stern. Amu realised at once that it must be the windowpane in the door to the Captain's cabin. Something tugged at her heart; piqued her curiosity. As the last of the crew turned to their own tasks, she swept aft.

It was not hard to reach the grand cabin. This craft had not been modified as their own and all Amu had to do was cross over the aftercastle and through a set of great double doors with ruddied-gold handles to catch a glimpse of what had once been such an example of finery that it almost took her breath away.

The doors swung open with a high-pitched creak. There was a pressing silence as the hush of a held breath. There was a crunch. Amu lifted her skirts to find she had trod onto the hilt of a rusted rapier, it's blade long since dulled and dyed with a blackened mess that she recognised right away as the dry staining of blood. And there was more. On the corners of a fallen dresser; spots splattered upon the floor; across the walls; smeared upon the side of a once-golden frame and streaked along the canvas of a torn and discarded painting…

Now that Amu looked, it was everywhere. A chill ran down her spine. Over the devastation she trudged on into the cabin, expecting by all means to find some sign - some remnant - of whoever had been locked in such a mighty battle.

But there was none. The rest of the cabin was empty - cleared out save for a desk and an empty chest.

It was all gone. Nothing lingered save those few reminders which lay here still. A whisper; a faded opulence.

"There's no one here..."

Boots crunched against the powder of shattered glass strewn across the floor, glinting in the pale light like stars swept across the empty blackness of night. Amu stepped over the iron frame of a fallen mirror. Thousands of images of her own reflection stared back up at her.

"Nothing..."

Once gossamer curtains danced noiselessly in a draught to Amu's right, but it was weak, only strong enough to brush the very hem of her dress. It was lazy, lethargic; it lacked the enthusiasm of the gale at the turn of a storm or the sea breeze rocking her as she hung from the ratlines, but it was full of whispers. This whole place seemed to sigh. The wooden boards ached. The ceiling hung heavy. This place was lifeless. Despondent. Depressed. Such wanton havoc had been wrought that day she had wrecked, Amu realised, and now the whole ship seemed to be dying in the fading light, taking its last heavy breath under the watch of the rising moon.

What had happened, Amu wondered?

But she would never know. What she did know was that the night was pressing on and her company was but a stone's throw away attempting to find some sort of aid, the tragedy of this long-lost vessel far from the front of their minds. Reluctantly, she turned away. They would be waiting for her and the ghosts of this empty galleon could lie in peace once more.

"Any word on those jolly boats?"

When Amu abandoned the forgotten cabin and returned to her crew beneath the moonlight, the atmosphere was tense.

"Ah, it's no good, Cap'n." Kukai reported, popping his head up from one of the broken hatchways. "All are spent! I ain't never seen a keel so bashed up in all me life."

From somewhere just below them, many affirming voices echoed up out of the darkness.

"I got two dinghies and half an oar." One of the pirates said. "And not one of 'em seaworthy."

Out of the corner of her eye, Amu saw Ikuto run a hand across his face. "Then this was all for nothing…"

"No," Amu interjected, unaware she had even spoken, so soft was her tone, until she noticed the crew watching her with interest. She turned back in the direction she'd come. "I'm glad we came here."

Above the high crest of the isle, the moon had reached its peak. The trees were bathed, outlined like chalk against the rocks. And, most beautifully, Amu could have sworn that some small remnant of the wreck had been breathed back into life.

"Let us leave her in peace."

And, wordlessly, they turned back to face the gloom of the decks below.

~.~.~

It had been some time since they'd left the galleon behind. The biggest and most pressing reason for their delay had been the climb back up to the head of the cove. The walk had damn-near killed them, for they were both exhausted and unsteady on the slick rock and vegetation underfoot, not to mention disheartened at the prospect of a full night trapped here on this little isle until the change of the tide. In fact, the night had nearly worn on entirely by the time they made it to the windward side of the barrier island. They had trudged on through most of the dark hours, only stopping once to settle beneath the shadows of the trees, but they found that none of them could rest easy in such circumstances and in the end it had seemed only fitting to keep powering on through the wee small hours.

The sky was lightening - not quite dawn, yet they knew then that they would not have long to wait - when at last they made it out of the jungle and onto the shore. From their vantage point, Amu and all the others could clearly see the undefined shape of the main island - could see its fine, sandy beaches and lush foliage so tantalisingly close from across the water - but they could not cross whilst the tide was still so risen. The moon was inching closer into the west and finally disappeared behind the peak of the barrier. They paused here, finally seeking further rest, their hearts somewhat at ease now they were within sight of the rest of the island, and here they waited perhaps only an hour or two until the sky grew tinged with pink, heralding the fast approach of the sun.

In this time the tide had retreated, much to their relief and, by the time they had all risen, they were looking upon a wide expanse of mudflats, punctuated by clusters of seaweed and driftwood and small shelled creatures seeking out what puddles of water still remained, steadily spreading out towards the sea. There was a defined stretch of sand trailing all the way off into the distance, seemingly connecting on the other side of the strait. At last their time had come. The men gathered up their things and slowly they trudged down to where the line of the sea had last been.

"At last!" Kukai laughed out of sheer relief. "Look 'ere, lads! Let's get the fuck off this soddin' rock!" And, beaming, he began to jog happily out onto the flats.

"Wait!" Amu hiked up her skirts and tentatively inched forwards. "Kukai!"

Quite truthfully, Amu had already envisioned what came next before it even happened. Caught unawares by her tone, Kukai stopped, pausing to turn and regard her with a curious eye. And that's when it happened.

Someone tutted. "Oh, what a moron."

Out on the sands, Kukai paled. Without constant movement, quickly his boots were beginning to sink into the saturated sand. He spluttered, frantic; "Fuck! Quick! Someone! Gimme ya hand!"

Utau huffed, tentatively placing a foot onto the spit. "Kukai, just shut up and grab onto me. Honestly, no one ever died in wetsand before."

Behind her, Ikuto snickered. "Oh, I don't doubt he'll be the first-"

"Will ya just get me out?!"

And, grabbing her by the elbow, he attempted to haul himself out, but it was no use. His weight had been far too much for the wet flats. In the end it took three more men plus Amu to drag him back onto solid ground. He left the sand with a deafening sound of suction and staggered away, white as a sheet.

"Fuckin' hell!" He cursed shakily. His legs were covered in the murky muck.

It took a good long while of convincing to get Kukai to venture out onto the sands again and by this time the sun was rising, casting its blessed light over the expanse of the retreating tide for all to see, but eventually they proceeded with caution and with careful steps they managed to cross the spit in a relatively short space of time. As it turned out, they were not far from their initial landing point on the main island and so, exhausted and bedraggled, the company finally made it back to the beach, glowing a soft orange under the light of the newly-risen sun. Several of the pirates began to clap and holler. Kukai dropped to his knees and laughed aloud. Amu too found herself smiling and clapping along with joy, for the sight of the Shining Black upon the glistening waters to her was the most glorious thing she had ever witnessed! The flutter of her sails; the pink clouds about her mast; the white of her shining diamond! How utterly awe-inspiring, she thought! How magnificent!

They celebrated on the shore for a moment like this, preparing eventually to make for one of the rowboats that still sat on the shore, when from afar they heard a calling. A whistling. Curiously, they turned only to be greeted by none other than Yaya. She sprinted, red-cheeked and wide-eyed, across the nearby sand rise as though she had been hurrying for miles.

"Sires!" She waved her hands above her head for attention. "Sails!" She cried, pointing urgently at the horizon. "Sails, sires! Sails over yonder!"

Alarmed, they ran towards her, squinting out into the rays of the rising sun. Sure enough, from the rise where Yaya had appeared there could be seen from afar the tell-tale smudge of white sails like clouds just breaking over the distant line of the sea. Ikuto dug about in his coat pocket, finally producing a brassy, battered-looking spyglass. Looking through it with great intent, he cursed.

"Yaya's been lookin' for the like o' you lot all mornin'!" The girl panted, bent forwards with her hands on her knees. She looked utterly spent. "The rest o' the men have been waitin' to sail - waitin' on your return, Cap'n."

Ikuto patted her on the back in a rare display of praise, but said no more of it. Rather, he snapped shut his spyglass and gestured with a nod of the head to the rowboats. They quickly got the message and soon enough they were all climbing up through the gangway and onto the familiar deck of the ship where men were scurrying to and fro; climbing lines; billowing out the sails, all ready for a quick retreat.

"Ichinomiya?" Yaya whispered fiercely, fists clenched as though ready for a fight, but Utau stepped forward.

"No," she said. "No, those sails are white."

"Naval colours, then ma'am?"

Utau did not answer, for she could not be sure. Panic began to spread about the Shining Black at this. Immediately whistles were blowing; bells were ringing as the men worked to leave the isle and, with any luck, this craft behind it.

The wind was on their side. Steadily it blew from the southeast and in no time at all Amu began to feel the telltale glide of the ship as she crested over the newly-forming waves. She cast one last glance behind her at the isle they had spent the night on to find it growing small and distant to her eyes. Surely, she thought, they would be out of danger in no time. After all, this was the Shining Black - a ghost on the water; the very ship that all men feared! Without a doubt, it seemed, that any regular crew - whether they be passenger or merchant or else - would never think to follow her even as she fled from sight, for just her name struck chills in the heart, her sails casting shadow over all who beheld her…

But Amu was sorely mistaken and, for the world, she had never regretted being wrong so sorely in her whole life, for it became apparent then that this bold new craft was gaining on them. Amu looked aft and saw that she was but a fledgling - a mere schooner. With her smaller size came swiftness. With her advance came dread. But she was not a naval craft, that much was for sure. They could see now no crest nor King's colours fluttering atop her masts and she was sparsely decorated, even for a ship of Seiyo. Before they could billow out their sails any further she was upon them. Like ants her crew appeared at first, swarming over the silhouette of the ship as she blocked out the sun, but soon they could make out the mismatched colours of their coats and hear the cry of their voices as they advanced to show them her broadside in a brazen display of hostility that not one member of the pirate's crew could even believe.

The wind began to falter then and, her escape futile, the Shining Black could do little more than lay in wait as this smaller opponent came up to her starboard. Their gangplanks adjacent, the crew held their breath. Amu felt a terrible foreboding in her heart as one man amongst them stepped out from the shadow of their sails, evidently meaning to address them. For a moment, Amu felt the urge to take Ikuto by the sleeve and pull him back as he strolled over to the bulwark in a manner that utterly belied the true apprehension he felt in that moment.

Their gangplanks adjacent, he was greeted by a lean, yet young-ish looking Captain in a worn, brown coat that looked like it might have been expensive once. In fact, the rest of his men were in a similar state, all bearing the marks of once wealthy apparel fallen from grandeur. Behind him, his crew looked in awe, but there was a definite hunger in their eyes that Amu didn't like. She hung back, breath held.

"Good mornin'." Said the mysterious new Captain. Ikuto raised an eyebrow at his casual manner, but said nothing of it. Perhaps he was still in shock. After all, not once before had a lesser vessel ever dared to pursue the Shining Black. The man continued; "Fancy seein' you 'ere."

"Indeed," Ikuto cast his gaze over them in curiosity. By now he was considering the possibility that they were merely passing merchants, perhaps in need of supplies or other aid, but the critical way in which this mysterious man looked upon the Shining Black was quickly casting doubt on this idea. "Tell me," he began, stalling for time; "how came you by this place? That isle beyond the horizon is not marked on any maps, you understand."

The Captain considered this. "Well, y'see, perhaps I can speak plainly with you, Cap'n. After all, t'were not the isle itself we sought. No, no… We've been searchin' on'y for that white diamond up there." A foreboding crept across the Shining Black at this, but nevertheless, Ikuto allowed him to continue; "'Tis a fleeting thing, it is, but rumour spreads, ya see? That diamond sail o' your's has been sighted near every-"

A pause. Cut off mid-sentence, his jaw hung slack. There was a moment of confusion, and then;

"Oi!" He pointed somewhere over Ikuto's shoulder. "It's the rat wot owes me money!"

Ikuto turned to see Kukai freeze over his shoulder. Looking positively white, he baulked; "Kiseki?"

"You rotten, no-good cheat!" the Captain snarled. "I'll 'ave ya strung up by the scruff, ya vagrant!"

Several of the Captain's own men came forth to restrain him then. They watched as he cursed and struggled against the grip of his crew, for he was apparently intent on hauling himself over the bulwark and throttling Kukai himself, but it was to no avail. Exasperated, Ikuto folded his arms across his chest and turned to his crewmate. He sighed;

"Let me guess," he began slowly; "this is the matter of the 'few hundred guineas' from the start of our voyage? Right, Souma?"

Kukai looked as sheepish then as any had ever seen him. He laughed nervously, scratching idly at the back of his head.

"M-Might've been somethin' like that, Cap'n, yeah…"

Amu rushed forward, a firm grip on Ikuto's forearm lest the idiot decide to leap into the fray and deal out some direct punishment on their idiot crewmate himself, for his countenance was furious, only to realise that she'd made a mistake because Kiseki stopped then, all anger gone, and regarded her with a ravenous stare.

"Oh…" he began lowly. Amu's skin broke out in uncomfortable goosebumps. "My, my, my, Tsukiyomi. What a pretty little prize you've got there." If Amu had thought to look over at her Captain, she would have seen that his expression was murderous, but, far from cowering, she stood fast under the male's gaze, defiant 'til the last. "The heiress of Seiyo… So 'tis true."

At that moment Utau stepped in, for she got the distinct impression that her brother was trying to rein in his temper. "If it's money you're after, then I've got to say, you'll be hard-pressed to find any here." She said in a measured tone. "Now we will only warn you fools once: Turn back and leave now, lest you face the fury of cannon fire."

Kiseki laughed aloud then - a cruel, cackling sort of sound - and sneered; "And why should we do that, I ask? Casting all debts aside, for a moment," he said; "you dogs should know that there's a nice little fortune ta be made fer the one that delivers Her Highness to the King."

Ikuto growled, unable to contain himself any longer; "You touch one hair on her head and I'll make sure you lose yours."

There was a smattering of cackles in the background at this. Behind Kiseki, his men were more than amused. One such miscreant nudged his Captain in the side and jeered;

"Ooh, rumours are true, rumours are true!" He mocked. "Looks as if we really 'ave got a li'l romance goin' on 'ere. Looks like all that gossip counts fer somethin', eh?"

Another crowed back; "Per'aps we should wait 'til they get multiplyin' and auction off some o' the runts!"

For the first time since their encounter, Amu finally found her voice. "Lech." She spat. And then, deliberately looking down her nose at the vermin, she curled her lip. "So, that is it, then? You mean to return me to my father? You intend to overcome a vessel near thrice your size and snatch me away for yourselves? How absolutely vile. How loathsome."

This only appeared to amuse them even more. In fact, they seemed then to be more like rowdy adolescents than men worth their salt as they jeered back at the larger vessel. By this point, Ikuto had seemingly found a hold on his rage. He regarded their Captain now as though he were but a fly in the edge of his peripheral - annoying, yes, but trifling.

"If you intend to take Her Highness all the way back to the mainland, then I daresay you are an incredibly dim-witted man if ever I saw one." Ikuto drawled, his ire somewhat quelled at the absurdity of the thought that these dogs would even dream to overcome them. "To challenge us unprovoked… Well, that would make you little more than a pirate yourself."

It was a statement that, at any other time, would have rung as true as anything. Certainly, there was little Amu or any of the pirates thought that could counter this. But Kiseki's eyes were positively gleaming - his smirk returning - and the princess knew then that these were no small time sailors; that something was dreadfully, dreadfully wrong.

"Actually, Tsukiyomi, that's where you're wrong." And, whilst the men of the Shining Black stood with their breaths held, he dove into the inside pocket of his weathered coat and oh-so casually unfurled a white scroll sealed with red wax. "Ya see this?" He waved it in front of them, leaning right over his gangplank to let them all take in the sight. "This 'ere's a Letter o' Marque." He said. At this there was a puzzled silence. He continued; "Fairly new, these are. An' they're brilliant, I must say. See this 'ere?" He unfurled the parchment so that they could all clearly see a line marked at it's end. "This is signed by the King hisself, it is."

Amu squinted in the light of the sun, but upon inspecting that scroll herself something dropped in the pit of her stomach. There, plain as day, was a signature. An all too familiar signature. Sensing, something of gravity was to come, she hushed.

"You see, the long an' the short of it is this: he wants his daughter back and the poor ol' fool's so desperate that he's decreed your little lady's capture…" And his face darkened. "By any means necessary."

The weight of those words hung so heavy in the air that the tension could have been cut with a knife. As the pieces slowly started to slot into place in the pirates' heads, they realised then that there had been forces outside of their own little world at work - forces beyond the might of the navy they had spent so long fearing; that would work wholly against them; that were more forceful than any they'd hoped to encounter. Kiseki clearly saw the penny drop in their expressions then - saw the dread come over them as a storm cloud smothers the sun - because he smirked, cruelly, and sneered;

"Like I said, there's a pretty price there'un that head o' hers. But I wonder… How much would His Maj'sty part with for the head o' the Cap'n that did her dirty?"

And the pirates knew then…

These men could board them; blast them; beat them without consequence… And they would not hang for their crimes. No… They would be rewarded.

As quickly as the realisation sunk in, glimmers of silver and steel flickered into life all around them. Across the way aboard the schooner pistols were being drawn; gunports opened; blades unsheathed.

Amu lunged for her dagger. Kiseki smirked, his gun brandished, glinting in the light of the sun.

"Good luck to you, Cap'n."

A shot rent the air.

The attack of the first privateers had begun.

~.~.~

A/N: Privateers? Hell yes. After all, what's a pirate story without some sort of battle? I just couldn't wait to bring forth some action, so here we are.

It's suddenly hitting me just how close to the end we are now… We're over halfway through the story at this point and I'm starting to wonder just what I'll do with myself once it's over lmao. I've got a couple ideas for a couple of new stories and hopefully I'll be rewriting two of my older ones, but idk when/if they'll be ready.

As always, thanks for reading! Til next time ~