Page 8

Mary

“The crew of the Ranger is fifty-seven men,” Tobias reminded them the next morning, as he, Mary, and Jack strode up the gangplank and onto the ship. (Jack was along because he’d said he wanted to see where Mary worked, but Anne couldn’t come, even though she’d clearly wanted to, since there was no way her “saucy lad” disguise would hold.) “By my tally,” Tobias continued, “I figure about thirty of them will already vote for you outright. That’s a majority, which is all you technically require to take the captaincy, but we need more like fifty, I reckon. We want to win by a wide margin.”

“I know,” Mary said tightly.

She was a bundle of jangled nerves this morning. Still, part of her had known that it would eventually come to this. All the time she’d been rising up in the ranks on the Ranger , Vane had been, well, falling. She’d been considering ousting him ever since this Bess business had begun to affect his work. Taking the captaincy from one of the most infamous pirates in the Caribbean was a huge risk, especially for someone like Mary, but now, the risk of not taking the captaincy felt greater. If what Jack and Anne said was true, and Vane entered the Pirate King contest, he would likely win. And if Vane won the contest and scoured all the pirate crews in search of hidden women, he’d find her out. Then she knew what would happen. Vane would trot her out in front of everybody, unmask her, and make an example of her. Whether that was by plank, gibbet, or being burned at the stake—she was a woman, after all, and she’d been fooling men all this time, so why not accuse her of being a witch?—Vane would certainly humiliate her before he executed her.

Vane could not become Pirate King.

Which meant Vane could not be allowed to enter the contest.

So he must be removed as captain.

And Mary should be the one to do it.

“We’ll win them over,” Tobias insisted. “You just have to make your case.”

“I know.” She tried to smile to reassure him—or maybe to reassure herself. She wasn’t looking forward to this part, the campaigning bit, but it had been the same when she’d been elected quartermaster—except that Vane had been public in his support of her, therefore putting his thumb on the scale, so to speak.

And this time she’d be betraying him.

It’s him or me , she thought.

“And then, when we’ve got the numbers,” Tobias went on, “we’ll call for a vote.”

“All right,” she said. “Let’s get this over with.”

The first pirate on their list was Nine Toes McGee. He looked up from his mop as the group approached him. “What’s this about? I’ve got work to do.”

Mary took a deep breath. She could do this.

“It’s not an easy job, is it?” she said. “Swabbing, I mean.” Actually, it was an easy job. You just mopped the deck over and over again.

Nine Toes shook his head. “The deck is always full of salt. And just when I’ve got it clean, the men step all over the wet boards. They leave boot prints on my nice clean deck.”

“You work hard.” Mary clapped the man on the shoulder and leaned in. “How’s Tallulah? Are you still seeing her? Are you treating her right?”

He met her eyes, startled. “I’m trying.”

“I’m sure your portion of the booty’s not stretching far enough, what with flowers to buy your sweetheart and romantic dinners to pay for.”

Carefully, Nine Toes said, “My portion would be fine if it weren’t paid to me in fruit.”

Mary gave a sympathetic nod. “Tallulah’s not a fan of bananas, huh?”

Nine Toes blinked a few times. “She’s more of an apple lass.”

“Well, what if you had one and a half portions of our next prize? And every prize thereafter?”

Nine Toes narrowed his eyes. “I need more than a half. I can’t take a pay cut.”

“No, no,” Mary hurried to explain. “You’ll get your one portion—and then a half portion more. It’s a raise. Because you’re such a vital part of our crew.”

Silence. Nine Toes started counting on his fingers. Then his toes. “So I can pay my bills and then have some left over?”

“Yes,” Tobias said. “For Tallulah.”

“And how would I go about getting this raise?” Nine Toes now had a greedy gleam in his eyes.

Mary and Tobias exchanged glances. Then Tobias said cheerily, “Just vote for Mark.”

There was a pause. Finally Nine Toes nodded. “I see. Well, Mr. Read, I always liked you. You’ve got my vote.”

“See?” said Tobias as they walked away. “This is going to work.”

“It’s such an interesting way to choose a leader,” Jack said. “But it’s not very fast, is it?”

“It’s as fast as we make it,” Mary said. “So help me convince these men to vote for me.”

“Good point.” He turned to Tobias. “Who’s next?”

Mr. Child and Mr. Swift were sitting together in the galley eating their bowls of mystery-meat stew (it smelled terrible) when Jack, Mary, and Tobias came marching in.

“If you vote for Mark as captain, we’ll get a better cook,” Jack said right off.

Mr. Child scowled. “Hey, I’m the cook!”

“He means better tools for the cook,” Mary said quickly. “Better ingredients, fresher, more identifiable meat, maybe even some vegetables.”

Mr. Child scratched his cheek. “I would like to serve some beets now and then. I like beets.”

“And so you shall have them,” Mary promised, and continued the list. “So, better cook... ing. And Fridays, you can wear your comfortable clothes instead of your fancy ones.”

“We’re calling it ‘casual Fridays,’” Tobias added.

Mr. Swift, the ship’s musician, frowned. “But what if you’ve only got the one cardigan?”

“Then you can do casual hair,” Jack suggested.

“And what else?” asked Swift.

“Monthly prosthetic maintenance,” Mary said. She was starting to get the hang of this.

“Prost a what now?”

“Like your hook.” Mary gestured to the bent-up curl of rusty metal on the end of Swift’s arm. “You bring that in, and we’ll get it shined up like new. Once a month. And the same would go for anyone with a peg leg, or an eye patch that needs darning.”

“That sounds like my wildest dreams,” said Swift.

“And”—Mary lifted her chin, because this was the winning promise, she just knew—“free parrot training.”

Both men’s faces lit up. “Free training?” said Child. “Croaky’s always trying to peck me eyes out. And whistles when I’m trying to sleep.”

“All things that could be remedied with training. So can I count on your vote?”

“Aye!” said Mr. Child. “You’ve been doing the job anyway, while Captain Vane’s been moping about his lady love.”

“Aye, aye!” said Swift. “In my opinion, Bess and Captain Vane are never ever getting back together.”

Mary dug around in her pockets. “Say, would you two mind wearing these?”

Both men nodded eagerly, and Mary handed them each a little button that bore the words VOTE FOR MARK.

The group continued down Tobias’s list for the next hour, striking up conversations, handing out buttons, and making promises Mary hoped she would remember later. All in all she found the men receptive to the idea of her replacing Captain Vane. There were only a few holdouts.

Like the beady-eyed twitchy-type fellow by the name of Coop Cooper, who, yes, was the ship’s cooper. When they spoke about parrot training and better cooking and casual Fridays, he didn’t blink an eye. He didn’t even seem convinced when they offered to raise his pay.

“I like Vane,” he said roughly. “I know him. I don’t know about you. I’ll vote for whichever man won’t get us killed.” His beady eyes cut to Tobias. “There’s that Jonathan Barnet fellow roving about, sinking ships and killing pirates. Not even Blackbeard was safe.”

Tobias’s posture went stiff, his expression guarded, but if he had anything to say about Coop’s lack of decorum, he didn’t say it out loud.

“Aye,” Mary said carefully. “Barnet is bad news. And he knows about Vane, too, as Vane’s one of the more notorious pirates in these waters. He’ll be gunning for him. Which is,” she added quickly, “no fault of Vane’s. But if Barnet has it out for our current captain, then we’ve always got a target on our backs.”

Coop nodded slowly. “So if I vote for you as captain, you won’t go getting us caught?”

“Definitely not,” Mary promised.

“Mark is smart and careful,” Jack said.

“A real pirate’s pirate,” Tobias added.

“Then I suppose you’ve got my vote.” Coop accepted a button and went off.

“He seems like a good fellow,” Jack said.

Tobias made some kind of noncommittal noise and checked the list. “Coop Cooper was the last one. We’ve got forty-nine yeas, by my count, which should do it. Now we just need to call for a vote.” He looked at Mary. “Are you ready?”

She swallowed. “I—”

Just then, the door to the captain’s quarters burst open, and Captain Vane burst out.

Mary went motionless. “Finrot,” she muttered. She’d assumed that Vane was still on land, either drinking himself into a stupor somewhere or fighting things out with poor Bess.

“Look alive, boys!” Vane yelled, and everyone aboard the ship swiveled toward the sound of his voice. “I have an announcement to make!”

“Double finrot.” There was only one kind of announcement Vane would be making at a time like this.

Vane cleared his throat, which didn’t help his raspy voice in the slightest. “As you may have already heard, I’ve decided to enter us in the Pirate King contest! As soon as the AARP puts out the sign-up sheet, the Ranger is going to be at the top! And we’re going to win this, lads!”

“So...” Nine Toes scratched his head. “We’ll all be the Pirate King?”

“I don’t see how that works,” muttered Swift. “Can we all be kings?”

On the quarterdeck, Vane sighed. “No, you dolts. I’m going to be the Pirate King. And you’ll be my subjects.”

“Oh.” A few of the crew exchanged nervous glances.

“Or most of you will.” Vane swept his gaze across the deck, looking at all the men in turn. “My first order of business will be to do some housekeeping. Because there are some here who don’t belong on a pirate ship.”

Was it Mary’s imagination or did his gaze linger on her a little longer than the others?

A shiver marched up her spine, but there was no way he could know about her. No way at all.

Mary took a long breath, trying to calm her fear. And excitement. And nerves. And the tiny sliver of guilt over what she intended to do to Captain Vane, who’d generally been good to her. But in this moment she steeled herself against him. If he’d known she was a woman, he wouldn’t have been so kind. Plus, his first name was Charles .

She felt the familiar surge of anger then. There was always some Charles telling her what he thought she could or couldn’t do. Some Charles to make some rule restricting her.

She was going to stop Vane from making rules for all pirates even if it killed her.

And the crew would be better off with her, she told herself.

They’d all be better off.

Time was running short.

It was now or never.

It’s him or me , she thought again. I have to do it . I must.

And this time she could do it.

“And the second order of business,” Captain Vane was saying, “is to get rid of the AARP. Because pirates don’t retire. They die, me hearties. They die in violent, bloody deaths. It’s the only dignified way for pirates to go out.”

“Or,” Mary said, because she knew her moment had arrived, “we could not die. Not for a while, anyway. We could live. That’s what I would offer you, if I were captain.”

The crew looked back and forth between Mary and Vane.

“Wait,” Vane said. “What did you say?”

“I’m calling for a vote,” Mary said, her voice ringing loud and clear on the quarterdeck.

Vane’s eyes narrowed. “You. You want to be captain. You cannot be serious.”

“I am quite serious.” Mary nodded at Tobias, Jack, Nine Toes, Mr. Swift, Mr. Child, and her other supporters. Someone rang the bell, calling for all hands on deck, and within minutes, everyone had gathered. A good many were wearing VOTE FOR MARK buttons. “It is my assertion that you, Charles Vane, are not fit to serve as captain. For weeks, you’ve hidden away in your cabin, moping about your broken heart. Well, I’ve had my heart broken before. It didn’t kill me. What’s more, it didn’t make me neglect my duties. But you’ve been absent during raids and fights, leaving others to do your work for you. Therefore, I assert that I should take command of the Ranger .”

“Preposterous!” Vane sputtered. “The men will never—”

Tobias stepped forward. “Time to vote, mates! Let every man who wishes for Mark Read to be captain of the Ranger , instead of Charles Vane, raise his hand or hook.”

Mary closed her eyes and took a long, fortifying breath. Please be me. Please be me.

“That settles it!” she heard Tobias say. “The decision is clear.”

Mary opened her eyes. All around her were raised hands (and hooks). One guy had even lifted a live chicken into the air. It had a VOTE FOR MARK button stuck into its breast feathers.

“Begawk!” it shrieked.

She’d done it. She’d really done it.

“Congratulations, Captain,” Tobias said, clapping her on the back. “I knew you could.”

“I swear to be the best captain possible,” Mary called out. “I know I made you promises. I will keep them. Things are going to be better on this ship. We’re going to fight smart, harm few, and score big!”

A cheer went up.

“No!” The shout came from Vane, who’d been staring at all the raised hands (and hooks, and chicken) in disbelief. He reached into his vest for his fancy pistol, pulled it out, and took aim right at Mary.

Everyone froze.

“You’ll find it difficult to captain a ship with an iron ball lodged in your head,” Vane rasped.

Mary lifted her hands, but she also started talking, quickly, in case Vane’s trigger finger got itchy. “That’s undoubtedly true,” she said. “But do you have an iron ball for everyone’s head?”

The men who’d all been raising their hands (and hooks and chicken) a few minutes ago were now raising their cutlasses (and pistols and angry chicken). Mary felt relief and gratitude dissolve her momentary flash of fear. They meant it. These men wanted her to be the captain, and they were willing to defend her.

Just to be safe, though, Mary grabbed Vane’s gun-toting arm and looped a rope around his hand. She nodded at Tobias, and suddenly Vane was upside down, hanging by one arm twenty feet above them, his pistol lying uselessly on the deck.

“See Mr. Vane off the ship, if you please, Mr. Quint,” Mary directed.

“Aye, Captain,” Mr. Quint said.

“You’ll pay for this, Read!” Vane yelled after they brought him down. Then, when he was on his feet again, he leaned toward Mary and lowered his voice, so the painful rasp was extra menacing. Gold glinted in his teeth as he snarled at her. “I know your secret, Read. You’re one of those playing dress-up in a comely pirate costume .”

He knew.

How?

Mary’s blood felt like ice in her veins, but she kept her expression neutral, her voice equally low. “It doesn’t matter what you think you know. You’re not the captain anymore. No matter what claims you make about me, the crew won’t have you back. Not after you repeatedly proved yourself unfit.”

His expression faltered. “I’ll get them back,” he said.

“Like you’re getting Bess back?”

His face paled. “I’ll get my revenge upon you, Mary Read. I swear it. At the right moment, I’ll expose you for the fraud you are.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.” She forced herself to sound casual about this, like she wasn’t worried, like her heart didn’t feel like it was about to beat itself out of her chest. She jerked her head at Quint. “Get him off my ship.”

Quint grabbed Vane and escorted him from the Ranger . Mary could hear his raspy ranting all the way down to the dock.

“I’ll get you, my pretty,” he called, “and your little navigator, too!”

“What was that about?” Tobias asked. “What did he say to you?”

“It’s nothing,” she said. “Nothing I can’t handle,” she amended, because that felt true, at least.

But she couldn’t shake the feelings that she’d just made things worse.

Mary went first to the captain’s quarters, where she threw open the windows to let in some fresh air. After Vane, the cabin reeked of spilled rum and regret. Oh, and body odor. Then she spent the better part of the morning directing her crew (her! crew!) here and there, getting Vane’s belongings cleared out to make room for her own things: some books (her Tbr was a mile long), a whetstone (for keeping her cutlass sharp), and a blank book to serve as a captain’s log. And then, when the men were finished carrying a box of her clothes in, she realized the fanciest, most luxurious part about being the captain: private chamber pot.

It was good to be captain.

A knock sounded on the door. “Come in!” she called, and Jack entered.

He assessed the space with a low whistle. “Very nice, cousin. The captaincy looks good on you.”

Mary lifted her chin. “Thanks. I don’t feel ready to celebrate just yet, but—”

“Are you kidding? We have to celebrate! Cabin boy to captain in a year. That has to be some kind of record.”

It was, Mary thought. But she couldn’t shake the unease that had filled her when Captain Vane had said he knew her secret.

“And while we’re celebrating,” Jack went on, “we should get you some curtains for that window. Some yellow ones, maybe, to brighten up the place. And perhaps a bouquet of flowers to keep everything smelling fresh.”

Mary rubbed her temples. “Jack, why do I feel like you’re trying to butter me up for something?”

“Butter you—” He frowned. “What an interesting expression. I don’t think I’ve ever tried butter before. Perhaps, now that Bonn and I are pirates, we could consider taking a ship carrying butter?”

“Now that...” Mary shook her head. “Anne isn’t a pirate. You can be, if you want, but Anne is not currently allowed to be a pirate.”

“But you could change the rules,” he said. “Isn’t that so? You could decide that women are allowed to be part of the crew.”

“I can’t change the rules immediately ,” Mary clarified. “Jack, I just got elected. It’s too fast.”

“Yes, you can.” Jack crossed his arms. “Bonn said all that must happen is for the new rules to be voted upon. And if you just quietly remove the parts we don’t like—and never mention that everyone agreed to rules that don’t prevent women from being pirates—you’ll have done the job without ruffling any feathers. That’s another interesting expression, isn’t it? Ruffling feathers. What kind of bird are they referring to, I wonder.”

“Jack.”

“Mary.” He took a step toward her. “This is all Bonn wants in life!”

“Being captain isn’t enough!” Mary shouted. At Jack’s hurt expression, she closed her eyes and attempted to school the frustration from her face. “My position is still precarious,” she tried to explain. “They could hold another vote at any time, and then I’d be out. They’re giving me a chance to be their captain, but I haven’t proven myself yet.”

“Then do it,” he said. “Prove yourself.”

“I will .”

“Do it now,” Jack pressed.

“Oh right now, right this minute?” she asked sarcastically. “How?”

He bit his lip thoughtfully, then nodded. “Enter the Pirate King contest and change the rules for everyone, including Bonn. If you become the Pirate King, they’ll have to—”

“I agreed to be captain,” Mary said sharply. “I didn’t agree to enter the contest.”

But at the thought of the contest—and her newfound eligibility for the title—something deep inside her began to stir.

“You should be the Pirate King,” Jack argued. “You’d be a strong, fair king. Plus, you actually are royalty, so you’re more qualified for the role than any of these simple humans. Think about all the good you could do.”

“It’s too public. I’d be found out.” She lowered her voice. “Vane knows about me, Jack. I don’t know how he figured it out, but Vane knows I’m a woman. And he’s already threatened me. If I enter the contest—he’ll ruin me. I will never be allowed on another ship. And where will that leave your precious Anne Bonny, or any other woman who wants to be a pirate? Let me prove myself to the crew the normal way: we’ll capture ships, find some treasure, and stay out of trouble with the law.”

Jack shook his head. “If Vane already knows, then you have no choice but to win the contest.” Before she could argue again, Jack turned and marched toward the door. “I’m going to see Bonn. We need to decide what to do.”

“About?”

He threw a look over his shoulder. “You.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

Mary allowed herself, finally, to breathe. Her hands were shaking a little. Her heart was still thrumming in her ears. So she did what she always did when she was stressed out. She lit a candle, curled up on her new fancy bed with the feather pillows, and read a book.

Or she tried to, anyway.

Jack doesn’t understand , she thought to herself as she turned a page and then forgot the first part of the sentence and had to look back at the previous page again. It wasn’t like she got any joy from denying Anne a place on her crew. She wasn’t trying to keep all the pirating for herself. It might be nice, in fact, to have a few more women on board the ship. But Jack was demanding she make instant change when she was the one who’d face the biggest consequences.

Jack just couldn’t understand what it meant to be a woman and a human at the same time.

“Littlest!”

Mary jerked, dropping the book onto her face.

She pushed it aside and listened. Perhaps she’d imagined someone calling to her.

“Littlest! I know you can hear me, young lady! Get out here right now if you know what’s good for you!”

Mary groaned. That definitely wasn’t her imagination.

It was her father.

She heaved herself up and stepped out onto the main deck, where her men were swabbing, carting bananas back and forth, and taking inventory of their supplies. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“There’s a cove on the north side of town. Meet me there so I don’t have to yell.”

Oh, that definitely wasn’t happening.

She would, she decided, ignore him. It was the only way.

“I see you ignoring me, young lady. Don’t make me turn that ship upside down.”

Just then, waves splashed higher on the Ranger ’s hull, even though the sky was perfectly clear and there hadn’t been any wind. The ship rocked up and down, and water trickled along the deck, exactly where Nine Toes had just finished swabbing.

“Argh!” Nine Toes yelled, hurrying to clean the water before it dried and left a crust of salt.

“Odd,” Tobias said, coming to stand beside her. “Perhaps there’s a storm coming? No clouds, though.” He peered into the distance, frowning.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Mary said. “We just need to focus on making ready to sail. Those merchant ships won’t capture themselves.”

“Littlest!”

Mary groaned. He was going to keep yelling at her—and maybe sinking her ship a little—until she agreed.

“Is everything all right?” Tobias asked. “I saw Jack leaving the cabin earlier. He looked upset.”

“He wants me to enter the Pirate King contest now that I’m eligible.”

Tobias’s brown eyes widened. “That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard. Second only to the idea of me being the Pirate King.”

Mary snapped her gaze to him.

“Not,” he said quickly, “that you aren’t capable of such a thing. But pirates don’t—”

“Need a king,” Mary finished. “Yes, I know. Trust me, I have no intention of trying to become the Pirate King. Managing this lot is going to be enough to keep me on my toes.”

“Right,” Tobias said. “Well, I’m glad that’s settled.”

But it wasn’t the Pirate King that was consuming Mary’s thoughts right now. It was a different kind of king entirely.

“Get to the cove right now or I will sink every ship in the harbor!” Another wave—a bigger wave—punctuated his threat. The pirates were all drenched from the knees down.

“Fine!” Mary shouted in Merish. “Stop hurling water at my ship!”

She hated giving in to him, but what choice did she have?

What the Sea King wanted, the Sea King got.

Dread in the pit of her stomach, she marched toward the gangplank. Tobias trailed after her, and she stopped. “I need to go speak with my—myself,” she said. “I need to think about something. Alone, I mean. Mind the crew, won’t you?”

“That’s Quint’s job. But all right.” He gave her a tight smile, but she didn’t see it, because she was already stomping down the docks and practicing what she would say to her father—something so biting it would send him swimming back to Underwhere in abject shame.

Perhaps something like, “You’re not the boss of me!”

No, that wasn’t good enough.

Unfortunately, by the time she reached the cove, she hadn’t thought of anything better.

The cove was quite nice, it turned out, sheltered from the city by a large hill and scattered palm trees, with a gentle slope of the land into the water. Seagulls called above, while crabs burrowed through the sand. And out in the water, not ten feet away, was Mary’s father. The Sea King himself.

For a moment, she felt like a minnow again.

“Hello, Littlest,” he called.

Mary stared out over the water. It was hard to believe that, after two whole years, her father was right there . He hadn’t changed much. He still had a head of abyss-black hair, jellyfish-pale skin, and crab-legs around his eyes (like crow’s-feet but in Mer). And he still had that commanding presence, an aura of power that radiated from him in all directions, like the wind itself was waiting for his orders. And it kind of was. He was, after all, the ruler of the ocean.

Mary swallowed.

I hate you , she’d said the last time they’d seen each other. You don’t understand me.

Yeah. He was probably still angry at her. Mer lived for three hundred years, and the Sea King was nearly two hundred. That was a lot of time to perfect the art of holding a grudge.

“Come here,” he demanded. “I want to see you up close.”

Mary considered saying no, making him drag himself up the shore and flop around on land like a beached whale. Just because he was king didn’t mean she should acquiesce to his every command.

Then she recalled a moment when she’d been just a minnow. She’d escaped from Karen’s not-so-watchful eye and gone off exploring by herself, immediately getting trapped inside a closet. For what seemed like ages (but probably hadn’t been more than a quarter hour), she’d struggled with the door and called for help, until finally she’d exhausted herself. Sea foam seemed imminent.

But then she’d heard her father’s panicked calling— “Littlest! Littlest!” —and her heart had soared with hope and relief. At her answering cry, he’d burst in and scooped her up. Safe. She’d been safe.

With a sigh, Mary removed her boots and stockings, then rolled up her trousers. Wet sand squished between her toes as she strode into the waves.

He watched her approach, his expression hard with judgment. “You’re looking well,” he said as she got closer.

Quickly, she loosened her ponytail so the short strands of her hair covered up her earring. “Life as a human has worked out for me,” she replied. “I’m happy here.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “No hello? No ‘nice to see you, Father’?”

Well, she’d run away from home . To a completely different world. She hadn’t planned to ever see him again. “How did you know where to find me?”

He shrugged. “I have my ways.”

Silence stretched between them. (And it was a really big silence, as talking in Mer didn’t make any sound.) He twisted his coral ring on his finger. Mary scratched the back of her neck.

“What do you want, Father?” she finally gathered courage enough to ask.

“I want you to come home. In fact, I demand it.”

Ah. There was the father she knew.

Mary was shaking her head before he even finished telling her. “I am not going home.”

He crossed his arms. “Littlest—”

“My name is Mary! Call me Mary.”

A pained expression flashed over his face. “Fine. Mary. Come home, Mary, to your family.”

To the family that had named her Littlest ? To a world that made her feel small and silly for having different interests from everyone else? The only other Mer who’d ever understood Mary was Jack—and now he was here. So what was left for her back in Underwhere? Nothing.

“Also,” her father added, “Big Deal wants the crown. You should make things right with your sister and bring it back to her.”

“The crown?” Mary’s face twisted while she tried to think of why Karen (aka Big Deal) thought she had their mother’s crown.

Then she remembered the wedding.

She shook her head. “I already looked for it when she asked. It wasn’t there.”

The Sea King closed his eyes and blew out a long breath, as though mentally preparing himself for Karen’s reaction to this news. Then he straightened. “Littlest—”

“Mary!” Ugh. Why couldn’t he get it right?

“Mary, I mean. I was hoping that you’d want to return to us on your own. But I will force you if I must.”

Mary scoffed. “And then what? I drown? I’m a human now! Unless you got Aunt Witch to make a potion to change me back.” Mary really hoped Aunt Witch hadn’t made a potion to change her back.

“You won’t drown. Someone will kiss you.”

Mary’s mouth dropped open. What he was talking about was the magic of “the mermaid’s kiss,” the gift of underwater breath that a Mer could bestow upon a human. Mary had used it once, on Charles, when he’d been drowning in the storm. It lasted, according to the latest Mer research, for twenty-seven minutes before you had to kiss the human again.

So what her father was proposing was that somebody—who? the royal daughter kisser?—would kiss Mary every twenty-seven minutes for the rest of her life. Which could possibly be for the next 283 years .

She’d rather die.

“I won’t go back, and you can’t make me. This is my home now. I’m making a difference here.”

He rolled his eyes. “By being a pirate? Oh yes, I know what you are now. A thief on a boat?”

“I’m the captain of a ship!” she countered. “I matter to people here.”

“You matter to people at home, too.”

“Not like I do Above. People rely on me. And no one tells me what to do. Not anymore.”

“At home, you’re a princess.”

“And here I’ll be the Pirate King!”

The words were out before she realized.

“Is that so?” asked the Sea King, sounding amused. “You think you can be a king?”

“I will be,” Mary said. “By this time next month, I’ll be the ruler of all the pirates on the seas.”

Her father studied her for a moment, as though assessing whether he believed she could do it. He probably didn’t. She was still Littlest to him. The baby of the family. No one expected her to do anything great.

Then he reached into his kelp pouch at his hip and removed a small hourglass, made with driftwood and mother-of-pearl, filled with sparkling sand. One chamber had a puffy cloud painted on it, while the other had a series of waves. He spoke a few words to it—murmuring in Merish—then handed it to her. It was warm.

“What is this?” she asked warily.

“You have until the full moon,” he said.

“What happens at the full moon?” The moon wasn’t visible currently. She would have to ask Tobias what phase it was now. He would know.

“I’ll come back and take you home.” He sighed. “Little—Mary, my sweet minnow. I want you with me. I want to protect you from the big world.”

“I don’t need your protection!”

“Prove it, then. Prove that you truly can do this all on your own. Become the Pirate King. Or say goodbye to the human world forever.”

Then, before Mary could form any kind of response, the Sea King turned and swam away, creating a massive wave that completely doused Mary from head to toe.

“You don’t understand anything!” she shouted in Merish. “You’re not the boss of me!” But it was too late. He was already gone.

Dripping, Mary looked down at the little hourglass. It was small enough to fit in her palm, and no matter the way she held it, the sand ran from the cloud side to the wave side, defying gravity. It was magic, of course. Probably Aunt Witch’s.

Mary hurled the hourglass far out into the water, where it disappeared beneath the waves. She didn’t need his deadline. Or his permission. And once she was back on her ship, he wouldn’t be able to find her. She’d keep her freedom.

Jaw and fists clenched, Mary marched awkwardly out of the water and pulled her stockings and boots back onto her wet feet. Then she unrolled her trousers and straightened all her clothes.

That was when she felt it. A small object in her pocket.

Grimacing, Mary pulled out the hourglass.

Experimentally, she hurled the hourglass into the ocean again.

And found it in her pocket.

Then she buried it in the sand.

And found it back in her pocket.

She even tried stomping on it and mixing the broken shards with someone’s pile of trash.

But, of course, before she could take two steps away, it was in her pocket once more.

Which meant her father would (probably) always be able to find her. And when the sand had moved from one chamber to the other... he’d come to take her away from everything that mattered to her. Her ship. Her crew. Her friends.

And all the things she could accomplish here.

Being captain isn’t enough.

Mary screamed silently for a few minutes, quietly shaking her fists and stomping her feet on the sand. Then, super-secret screaming fit complete, she combed back her hair into its neat ponytail.

“Fine,” she grumbled, shoving the hourglass deep into her pocket again.

She would enter the Pirate King contest.

And she would win.

But first, she had to tell Tobias.