Page 30

Thirty

I braced for the impact of the falling timber. I didn’t feel it. I didn’t feel the heat from the fire ship. I didn’t feel the crash of the Sea Storm into the Lark or the explosion of cannons on our ship.

A swift breeze blew the tendrils of my hair that had worked itself loose from my braid. I opened my eyes to a calm ocean, a full moon clouded by a whisper of smoke, and eighty unconscious men, passed out cold on the deck of the Sea Storm .

In the distance, Woodes Rogers’ ships were no more than shadows behind us.

“What the fuck was that?” Mortas groaned. He was face down, arms and legs splayed. The stab wound he received from Sasha oozed blood on the back of his coat, but he managed to sit up.

The crew began coming to, writhing around like they’d received extra volts from a top-of-the-line stun gun. Everyone except Max and Rowan.

Max held the ship’s wheel. Rowan stood next to him at the helm. They didn’t seem bothered by the sudden leap across the ocean. Rowan stared down at me, eyes narrowed, before he turned his attention to his crew.

Sasha had lost her footing and fallen. She lay out cold across the lattice hatch on the deck below.

A hand clasped me on the shoulder. “Are ye all right, lassie?” Caiyan stood behind me.

“Yes, I think so.” I released my grip on the railing, turning to face him.

“Bloody hell.” He looked past me out to the dark water. “We’re no in the harbor any longer.”

“Nope.”

“I thought we were to hit the Lark . The ship rumbled and…”

“Jumped.” I finished his sentence.

“Aye.” He glanced around at the crew still trying to pull it together, then his gaze stopped on me. “Ye didnae lateral travel on accident?”

“Not me. I’m doing good to carry two brigands, much less an entire ship. Someone on board has power greater than little ’ole me.” I’d first met Caiyan when I accidentally jumped to the year 1568. I didn’t know I could time travel, and it was a shocking surprise to discover my genetic gift.

“Maybe Sasha?” We peered down into the deck below us. Sasha was gone.

I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

He glanced behind me, focusing on the men currently steering the ship. “What ye told Sasha, ’tis true?”

“Based on our most recent discovery, I’d put my money on Max. I’m not sure about Rowan.”

“They were the only two left standing after the jump. I’d say yer right. But to have an entire ship as a vessel. ’Tis astounding.”

“Apparently, size doesn’t matter in the ability to jump a vessel.”

Caiyan’s mouth pulled into a naughty smile. I had the sudden urge to kiss him. I leaned in, then remembered his deal with Mortas, and thought better of it. “If Max is a time traveler, it’s our duty to help him.” I cut my eyes at Mortas. “And keep him out of harm’s way.”

“Sunshine, ye could be messing with the fabric of time.”

“We can’t let Mortas take him.”

“No one is going anywhere.” Rowan’s blade came across Caiyan’s chest, the tip an inch from his chin, holding Captain Kirk at bay.

A pistol cocked behind me, and cold steel pressed against my spine. “Dinnae move, witch.”

Uh, boy. Not again.

Max moved until he stood in front of me, leveling the pistol at my head. He looked surprised as if he couldn’t believe I wasn’t trying to regain my faculties like the rest of the crew.

“Captain Kirk. Ye were with Captain Vane. How did ye manage to be on my ship?” Max asked.

“I was turned around in the swim and ended up here.”

“’Twas a far swim from the Lark .” Rowan’s tone told me he didn’t believe a word.

“Scab, vow your loyalty to me. If ’tis so…” Max stuttered, and his speech slurred. He shook his head as if clearing the dust from his brain. “Then I weel spare yer life and grant you admittance to the crew.”

I recognized the signs of posttraumatic stress that often accompanied an inexperienced time traveler, and sometimes an experienced one.

Rowan drew his pistol, opting for a better killing method than the sword in light of his captain’s sudden imbalance. But he kept the sword pointed in Caiyan’s direction.

“Why didn’t ye’s pass out like the others?” Max asked.

Rowan scowled at us before aiming his pistol toward Mortas, who had regained his feet but now leaned against the railing for support. “Why didn’t he?”

“Mayhaps, ye are a witch.” Max swayed with the pistol in his hand. I prayed the damn thing wouldn’t misfire. He wasn’t the innocent boy who’d confessed his longing for adventure. His face mirrored Rowan’s confused concern. Concern for his crew, concern for his ship, and concern for the secret he harbored, like the location of buried treasure. Max’s heavy-lidded, bloodshot eyes fought to stay sane but held a familiar weariness.

“I’m not a witch.” I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at the two men who claimed to be smugglers but acted like pirates.

The crew was regaining consciousness slowly, like they’d been on a long, drunken binge. “Then ye are all cursed as I?” Max’s expression softened slightly.

Mortas stumbled over to us, supporting his weight against the foremast. Blood soaked his coat sleeve. “Not cursed. We’re time travelers.”

Jeez, Louise, he just blurted it out. Talk about messing with the past. We had no choice now. I shot him my stop-screwing-things-up stink eye.

“And Max, I know your father.” He sounded like Darth Vader. Using the same monotonous tone as the infamous villain for emphasis.

I inadvertently rolled my eyes. Max’s expression went from confused concern to worried to angry. He glanced around at the crew members still struggling to consciousness but awake enough to eavesdrop. “My da is dead.”

“Your mother was from the future. She time-traveled here when she was with child. My father’s child. You. She arrived in a giant steel fish. Am I right?” Mortas took a step closer. Rowan cocked the gun, and Mortas stopped. “We’re family.”

Max’s eyebrows shot upward. “Family?”

“I’m looking for your mother because”—he placed a hand over his heart—“because I’m your brother.”

What a hunk of bologna. He just found that out five minutes ago, and now he’s using it to plot his path to the King’s key.

“My ma is dead.”

Mortas didn’t show any sign of surprise at discovering the woman he sought wasn’t alive. My gut told me he wasn’t looking for Max’s mom but something she had, like a map and a key.

Rowan’s blade moved from Caiyan to Mortas. “Take these liars to the brig.”

I expected a struggle or some sort of retaliation from Caiyan, but he gave none. Only a slight shake of his head signaled me to wait. For once, I agreed with him.

Crew members who had stronger constitutions moved in to assist their captain. Black Bard stood to Rowan’s left. “Me mum had the sight. I recover quickly from the curse.”

Shrug steadied his rifle at me. Damn. Someone rescued the creep. He smelled like a burnt spare rib, but I didn’t think this was the time to bring it up.

Rowan sheathed his sword but kept his pistol on Caiyan. “We’ll sort this oot later. Wait for the rest of the crew to get their legs.” Rowan grabbed Caiyan’s arm, ushering him below deck. Black Bard, pistol in hand, motioned for Mortas to follow suit.

“We need to talk, young captain,” Mortas called over his shoulder as they hauled him off.

“In time.” Max frowned at the blood stain spreading across the back of the brigand’s coat. “I’ll send the healer to ye, after I speak with her.”

“Goody,” Mortas retorted in a snappy, sarcastic tone. If Max asked me to sew him up, I’d do it slowly and with an extra-large needle.

Shrug, who didn’t look at all pleased at seeing me again, shoved his rifle in my direction. “What shall I do wit’ the likes of ’er?”

“Take her to her cabin,” Max ordered.

“Wait. I can explain all of this.” I braced my feet against Shrug’s shoving.

“Hold,” Max commanded and moved closer to me. He staggered but regained his feet quickly. “Ye know of the curse placed upon me?”

“Curse?” I scanned his face for the truth. When I decided he was being completely transparent, I wanted to explain. “You really don’t know.”

“Know that yer a deceiving witch?” His eyebrows drew together with his snarky jab.

“For cripes sake, I’m not a witch.” I wanted to reach out, grab him by the shoulders, and shake sense into him. I inhaled a calming breath. “I need to speak to you in the privacy of your cabin.”

Rowan climbed up from the lower deck. Hearing me ask the captain for a private conversation, he motioned for Shrug to back off.

“Ye weel stay on deck,” Rowan grouched. “The crew willnae trust ye if they see yer speakin’ in closed quarters.”

Max moved us to a corner of the ship. Not precisely the privacy I had intended but it would have to do. “Tell me what ye know.” Max braced a hand against the wall for support while tightening his other hand on the gun trained at me.

“What Mort…I mean Captain Crunch, told you is true. We are time travelers. And I assume you are, too.”

“I have a curse placed upon me. My da told me so.”

“You’re not cursed. You’ve got the gift.” I reached up and pulled the key from around his neck. A move only I had the ability to make. His eyes widened and his hands went quickly to his empty neck.

“Gift?” He looked down at my hands still holding his key.

“This stone you wear is a key. The key to travel through time.” Rowan tensed beside me. He knew something he wasn’t sharing.

“My ma told me ’twas a talisman and never to remove it, or bad luck would find me.”

I secured it back around his neck. “Your mom was right, at least about the never removing it part.”

Max looked hopeful. “Ye came here to find me?”

I shook my head. “We came to find another who has stolen something from us. In the process, Vane took my friend captive.”

“Silver?”

“Yes.”

“He is also a time traveler?”

“And Captains Kirk and Crunch.” I felt silly saying their names out loud. “And the cook.”

“The cook?” Rowan seemed astonished.

“Yes. He came with me to rescue Silver.”

Max’s face grew serious. “Does Captain Crunch speak the truth about my da?”

“I know his father had a love affair with your mother.” OK, I might be stretching the love thing a bit, but Max’s emotional well-being was at stake. “Your mother learned of his family’s treacherous plans, and she fled.”

“My da was no good?”

Did I tell Max about the Mafusos and Mortas and his evil ways, or stoke the embers of the potential bond between two brothers? Would Mortas try to convince Max to join the Mafusos? Of course, he would. Damn, my moral integrity was being tested today.

My inner voice held up a quote from Alexander Hamilton. Our great error is that we suppose mankind more honest than they are.

“I don’t know your father personally, but let’s just say he surrounds himself with people who make bad decisions.”

“And my brother?” Max asked. “He’s no good?”

“Captain Crunch, your half -brother, is not always on our side.” I swallowed, and the truth stuck like a grapefruit in my throat. How did I put this gently? “He’s sort of like Captain Vane. He’s good when it suits him.”

“My da told me I was cursed. The way I could move my ship, like a ghost. It came from my ma’s gypsy blood, but he loved me despite my curse.” Max listed to the right. Rowan reached out and steadied him.

I decided to maneuver away from the theory of tainted gypsy blood and open the idea that Max had a family. “The time traveler that we are searching for is on your ship. The one who stabbed Captain Crunch. She’s your sister.”

“Sister?” Max’s forehead creased and he glanced at Rowan. “Our cabin boy is a girl?”

“Yes. Her name is Sasha. Your mother had twin girls before she jumped here. Sasha has a twin sister, Fredericka. She’s in our time.”

“Can I go to your time?” Max asked. The excitement of an adventure sparked in his eyes.

Rowan’s concerned expression turned stoic at the mention of Max traveling to my time.

“I have two sisters?” Max’s face lit up. He had a family, which outweighed the unusual circumstances of the gift he’d always thought was a curse.

“Max, dinnae believe these fairy tales.” Rowan squeezed Max’s arm gently as if they were in a bad dream and needed to wake up.

“I’m telling the truth.” I stomped my shoe on the deck. “For heaven’s sake, Rowan, how do you explain what Max can do?”

Rowan grunted, ignoring me. “Yer da was a good man. He wanted ye to be captain of the Sea Storm .”

“About that,” I said. “Your crew might have overheard the good news about your dad during the scuffle.”

Max grew rigid and turned to check his crew. The men walked the deck on wobbly legs, glancing at their captain, whispering between themselves.

Rowan made a head-nod, chin-lift motion at Shrug that I assumed meant my time for telling fairy tales was over. Shrug came up behind me with his rifle. “I’ll take her back to her cabin, Captain.”

“I can explain about the ship,” I told Max.

Max rubbed his eyes. The gun flailed about as if he waved a water gun. “Take her below. Lock her in the cabin, then search the ship for this cabin boy.”

I bobbed, dodging the barrel. “Wait, I need to heal Captain Crunch.” At least stick my finger in his wound until he explained how he planned to get Vane’s map.

“Are ye a real healer?” Max asked. A hint of my dishonesty ticked his voice.

“He needs merely a stitch.” Rowan nodded at Shrug. “Send Logan.”

My eyes went wide. “The carpenter?” And hired assassin.

“Aye, until I decide if what ye say is truth, ye’ll remain in yer cabin.” Max bobbed and weaved, the effects of lateral jumping overtaking him.

“Listen to me. Crunch is not a good person. We don’t work together.” Except on this trip, thanks to Caiyan. “He’ll turn you to the dark side.” Oh, for heaven’s sake, did I hear myself?

“Aye, I wished my ma was here. There are many questions I’d like to ask her.” Max’s words faded away as Shrug poke-checked me toward my cabin.

Me too. So many.