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Batara’s men took my order, some pulling out their automatic rifles and lining up along the side while others darted to the cannon room below. We only had four cannons, two on each side, leaving the front and back exposed. If they got too close, the cannons would be useless anyway, volleying far beyond the danger.

That’s what the Somalis were trying to achieve. Get close before we could use our cannons on them.

The wail of the boats grew closer, my heart hammering in my chest as I tried to steer the ship, getting us near the shore where we would only be vulnerable on one side but also not run us aground.

Bangbangbangbang!

A rip of bullets echoed in the night, pinging off the ship and tearing into the wood. Batara’s men fired back at the shadowy shapes on the water, but with every second, they got closer, some even approaching the bow and the stern of our ship.

Boooom!

A cannon thundered from below, firing into the darkness, blasting my eardrums. The splash of water as it crashed into the bay told me it missed. Cannons were hard to aim, and if you didn’t know what you were doing, they could be very dangerous.

I had no trust these men had a clue how to actually fight pirates. They were trained to protect and kill with their hands and legs, but this was a different kind of combat.

My fingers gripped the helm, trying to keep us steady as we skimmed the rocks underneath. I was good at sailing, but Gage was the one who could weave us through every dangerous spot with his eyes closed. I preferred to be out with my crew, fighting. It gave me a better understanding of everything going on and how to react.

Batara left me weaponless, providing me with a crew who had no clue what they were doing against pirates who would slice our throats without a thought.

Bullets pelted the air, the sounds of battery-operated motors zooming around to the port side. Their tiny boats were able to go into shallow water, while we couldn’t.

I cranked the wheel the opposite way, trying to pull away and prevent them from gaining access. Up ahead, a schooner glided toward us, probably already aware they were about to be in the middle of a raid and were trying to get around us and the hell out of the way.

Booom!

Another cannonball shot out, walloping the water, which sprayed like a fountain. The pirates had slipped past the line, too close for the cannons to do any damage.

Screams and orders came from below on the port side. I tried to yell at Batara’s men, but no one heard me or cared. A crew had to be in sync, have trust, know our plan of defense during an attack and how to adjust in a blink. `No one trusted or respected each other here, everyone taking charge, but no one leading.

Several metal hooks were tossed up from boats below, fastening onto our railing as the pirates climbed up, breaching our ship. Once they reached the top, we would be screwed.

But it wasn’t a pirate attack that thumped at my intuition, spearing terror through my gut. Bitterness sat on the back of my tongue, prickles daggering into my neck. I could feel it happening, my ears picking up the sizzle of the cannon being lit below my feet, the muffled clank, the ball jamming within the walls of the barrel.

For a moment, the world went still.

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

The backfire from the cannon exploded from the belly of the ship, tearing through the wood, blasting from the inside out like a back draft and shredding everything into pieces.

The explosion hit my body like a train, punching me off my feet. I flew through the air, losing all my senses as I tumbled, hitting the cold water with a painful slap. Everything went numb, my mind protecting me from the onslaught of agony, making me want to close my eyes and sleep.

I sank, letting go, allowing the darkness to swallow me and lead me where there was peace and no pain. It was always how I thought I’d die, in a battle, my grave far below, at the bottom of the sea.

But imagined I’d go down withmyship.

After I honored my father’s memory. Avenged him.

“Katze.”My father’s voice came into my head, speaking to me how he did when I was a child.“Wake up, my sweet girl. Don’t give up. You must fight!”

My eyes bolted open, the sudden need for air clawing at my lungs, my arms and legs pushing through the water, pulling me up to the surface with a brutal gasp. I tried to breathe in air, greedily sucking it in.

Fire reflected and danced off the water, and debris sprinkled across the bay along with bodies. I took in the wreckage burning a dozen yards from me. The emperor’s ship was nothing but firewood, a giant hole in the side allowing water to slowly tug it down, the ship sinking along with most of Batara’s men and a lot of the Somali pirates.

I could play it safe. I could swim back to shore, head straight to the emperor, and tell Batara what happened. He’d probably set me up with a new ship and crew within an hour. Locked under his restraints even more. My life on the chopping block. Controlled.

Or…

Play dead. Find this “nectar” on my own.