Page 33 of Scourge of the Shores

The Dark Waters

Over three hundred ships sailed toward the dark waters, their sails flashing in the bright sun’s light and billowing in the favorable winds. Though motivations differed, each ship was a testament to united strength and purpose.

The image of Ma lying in her own blood, thirteen, almost fourteen years earlier, screaming as she drifted in and out of consciousness, flooded Danna’s memory. Her eight-year-old hands, slick with Ma’s crimson blood, flashed through her mind and set a fierce line on her hardened lips.

Danna peered to the port stern where Lucas’s ship flanked hers. Her gaze drifted to Ethan at the helm and Scotty and Jim manning the swing guns on the deck of her family’s galleon. She swiveled and glanced over her left shoulder at the ten pirate ships, which led the way with her.

The formation held. Robert’s ship, Storm Rider , cut through the waves with precision; it was a vessel meant to conquer.

The white sail bore a glittering gold “J” on the main mast, in stark contrast to its bright red hull, which boasted three decks of cannons.

The golden anchor hoisted at the bow reflected the sun’s rays in a dizzying dance on the waves.

Danna’s own vessel wasn’t built for brute force. It had speed and history, but against Cain, she had to rely on the pirates’ heavy firepower.

She noticed the captains were at the helm, but she stood at the bow on the wide plank gunwale, holding tight to the rope.

No wonder Robert had asked her if she was a real captain.

Perhaps she only pretended to be. But her mother’s blood, still vivid in her mind, reminded her—pretenders didn’t get this far.

She wrestled with the belief that she was a pirate only in name. A gentle breeze shifted her focus forward, pushing the paralyzing thought from her mind.

“I hope Robert’s right,” she mumbled but reminded herself to fight the first fight first—Cain—then allow herself to worry about the second—the potential annihilation by the Pirate Kings of the North Sea.

And lastly, worry about the third fight, when it came—Robert leaving.

There was no more room in her mind or her heart to worry about anything other than Cain. Her mind cleared and focused.

Her unblinking eyes fixed on the horizon where the dark waters churned—a stain on the great blue. Cain’s roar echoed from the deep. They were right about his lair, but she had never sailed her whole fleet this far from home. The dead would not wash ashore this far out.

The wind whipped pieces of her hair loose from her scarf.

Her muscles tensed as the ship’s bow slipped into the dark waters.

Revenge was near. Yet, the fear of losing more ships and emerging in defeat gnawed at Danna’s heart.

She had ordained their combined approach with the pirate kings.

If Cain lived after this, the weight of blood on her hands would drive her mad.

Her grip tightened on the rope until her knuckles drained of color. She exhaled sharply, steadying herself. The time for hesitation was over. This was the moment everything had been leading up to. No turning back.

“Cain’ll die today,” she whispered before facing the crew. “Cain will die today!” she roared, daring the deep to prove her wrong.

Her yell echoed over the wooden planks, and the hum of “Aye, Captain” lifted with a heavy determination.

Their faces were raw, and their knuckles, white. They had all come too far, lost and sacrificed too much to retreat. Danna hoped the years-long war with the sea dragon would end by nightfall. Jagged rock protruded from the waters hidden by the churn.

“Easy does it!” she yelled back at Ethan.

A glint in the black waves caught her eye, but as soon as she saw it, it disappeared.

“He knows we’re here,” she muttered. The sea began to roil, and the ships rocked violently back and forth, sending Danna slinging on tiptoe along the gunwale.

“Load the guns!” Robert’s shout transversed the waves as a faint command. “Rocky water.”

Danna’s eyes scanned the obsidian rocks that seemingly erupted from the black depths.

“Ready the cannons!” she yelled to her own crew. “Eyes alert!”

Cannonfire erupted from Blackwood’s ship, and pieces of rock fell on Danna’s deck. “Watch it!” she yelled.

“Beware, friendly fire!” Robert yelled late.

Blackwood lifted his hand over his head in the form of apology. To his credit, the looming cave rock did look like a dragon’s snout. But part of her wondered if that was a warning, a threat, of what would come.

“Steer clear!” she yelled in vain. The ship veered from the rock, the others following in quick succession.

Another glint caught her attention. It moved in a serpentine pattern, vanishing beneath the waves before reappearing—a predator testing its prey.

The sea hissed, a roiling pulse beneath the surface as if holding its breath before the strike. She pointed and yelled, “Ready the chase guns. Unfurl the sails!”

Jim and Scotty were pulling double duty on deck due to the crew lost in Cain’s last attack. Danna ran to help another crewman unfurl the sails while Jim and Scotty ran to the chase guns at the ship’s bow.

The glint came again, serpentining through the dark waves.

“Fire the chase guns!” Danna bellowed.

The ship lurched in the roiling waters as the cannons fired, splitting the air with twin explosions. The deafening boom rattled the deck beneath her feet. Water erupted in violent plumes, like spilled ink. A slick of black blood tinged the crest of one wave before it vanished into the deep.

A hit.

Damien and Garrick turned their ships broadside, unleashing a rolling barrage of cannon fire. Storm Rider fired its chase guns, followed swiftly by Rosa and Blackwood. Smoke curled into the sky like siren fingers calling men to come hither.

But Danna lost the glint of Cain’s scales.

Cain’s roar reverberated beneath them until the waters stilled.

If her ancestor’s ship had as many gun decks as large and as powerful as the modern pirate ships, maybe the war with Cain would have been over a long time ago.

Her ship only had five cannons on each side and two in the front.

There were at least thirty on Damien’s ship and maybe fifty or a hundred on Robert’s.

Cheer stirred in the air, but Danna quieted it, wary that victory had come too soon, too easily.

“Hold!” she bellowed, gripping the rigging as her gaze dropped overboard.

The black water had gone unnaturally still. No ripples. No waves. Just an eerie, glasslike surface reflecting her own face back at her. Siren waters were rumored to be the same. Sea dragons, sirens, krakens—all cousins. At least there was a chance of winning against a sea dragon.

She glanced up at Storm Rider .

Robert met her gaze until his massive ship shook.

Her fingernails dug into the wooden gunwale as she braced her knees.

Her gaze fell to the still water. A ripple formed—deep, circular, and racing outward like the silent toll of a warning bell.

Her stomach turned to stone as it surged straight toward Storm Rider .

The ripple widened—silent, unstoppable. Something vast stirred below.