Page 31

Thirty-One

I mprisoned inside my cabin again, I went to the window and watched the waves roll smoothly away from the ship as we sliced through the Atlantic Ocean like a knife through freshly churned butter.

“Being locked up has become rather annoying,” I said to the full moon. The moon responded by painting the water with a pearly topcoat, a reminder I only had a few more days to fix everything.

I scanned the dark for Vane’s ship. We weren’t sailing at top speed, more of a casual coast. Vane’s sloop was smaller, faster. I hoped it would catch us by morning. Ace and Marco were still on board and I wasn’t leaving without them.

Of course, I’d have to gain access to Vane’s cabin and steal Marco’s key and Lidiya’s map. I was sure it held the answer to the location of the King’s key.

“Lots of luck getting my hands on those all by myself.” If only I could convince Sasha to help me. Vane didn’t know she wasn’t a clueless cabin boy with bushy brows and a bad attitude.

Seeing no ship-shaped shadows in hot pursuit, I pushed away from the window and removed my dress.

“So many things to fix.” Was it even possible? I guessed Max was lateral jumping on instinct. He didn’t know how he accomplished such a feat. And Rowan, having been by his side for so long, had acclimated to the jumps. Now I understood why the crew called the Sea Storm the ghost ship. They thought their captain was cursed. If they spoke of it, they could be cursed too. The men held some credibility as the crew of the ghost ship.

The Sea Storm sailed silently into the night. From the weariness on Max’s face before he ordered me imprisoned, I assumed he was lights-out in his quarters while a skeleton crew manned the ship. I recognized the dark circles under Max’s eyes and the inability to complete a sentence. I’d had the same results in my first year of time traveling. The fatigue was incapacitating.

It was the perfect time for Caiyan to break out of the cell, but he wouldn’t because he was babysitting Mortas.

Keep your enemies close, lassie.

Everyone wanted to find the lost Spanish treasure. Only a few wanted the bigger prize, and we needed all the pieces of the map to find it.

* * *

I sat at the washbasin and removed my braid. “Are we really this close to finding the King’s key?” I asked myself in the mottled reflection. “The key we’d been looking for since Aint Elma died? The key she died protecting.”

I stifled a yawn. I needed sleep. It had been a busy first full day. I’d lied my way on the Sea Storm , found Marco and Sasha, convinced an entire fleet of pirates I had special visions, discovered a new time traveler and unearthed a wad of secrets that could fill up Pandora’s box.

I tossed and turned in my swinging bed. I pulled a shirt on over my shift and picked the lock on the door. I’d sneak out and find Caiyan.

“Where ya think yer goin’ witch?” Shrug pointed his rump rifle at me and forced me back inside. Didn’t the guy ever sleep? Possibly, his own stench kept him standing upright. Too stiff from grease and grime to bend. At least he’d found some things to wear. I’d tossed the clothes I’d stolen from him overboard.

Back in my bed, I studied the planks above me. My bed creaked as I swayed back and forth. I had to speak with Max and Rowan. There was no telling what lies Mortas would cobble to turn them against us.

Mentally preparing for the day ahead, my inner voice took out her scratch pad and dipped her quill in the inkpot. I needed to add a few things to my save Marco list, like get the fuck ready to battle Mortas, locate the Ranger , get Marco and Ace on board the Sea Storm , find Sasha, get the eye, find the treasure, get the King’s key, make peace with Rowan, secure Max’s rank as captain, save Marco from the noose, find Marco’s key, return home with all my favorite guys, and explain to my mother that my engagement to Caiyan was a ruse. This was exhausting.

My brain wouldn’t shut down and let me sleep. I tumbled out of my bed swing. After some mild cussing, I lit a candle and browsed the books on the shelves. Someone liked to read. I chose one and settled at the desk. It was odd reading books typeset by hand. The words weren’t perfect like in the books at home, and they were small and difficult to read by candlelight. I put the book aside.

A feather quill and brass ink pot sat on the desk. I ought to make a real to-do list. Get my thoughts in order. I pulled open the desk drawer and searched for paper, but the drawer stopped halfway, hanging on something. Reaching my fingers to the back, I felt something hard. A chain hung in the drawer. I yanked, and an egg-shaped metal object fell into my palm. I worked it free and stared down at a silver locket.

Inside was a painted portrait of a woman. She was beautiful, especially for this time when many women had lost teeth or had pockmarks from disease. Was this Max’s mom? I didn’t think so. She lacked any resemblance to Rogue, Sasha, or Fredericka.

I thought I knew who this cabin belonged to and the owner of the locket. It also answered why Max told me Rowan disappeared for stretches of time.

Rowan was in love. He was the link to Alexander Hamilton.

I smiled and hugged the locket to my chest. No wonder he grunted all the time. He acted the same way Gertie accused me of acting when Caiyan was in the wind.

Now his words made sense. If he could gain the treasure, he could quit going to sea. Quit smuggling. And if my timeline was correct, he’d have the money he needed to support the family with the lady in the locket. To begin Alexander Hamilton’s lineage.

My inner voice reminded me that in Gertie’s version of the timeline, Rowan died.

I shot upright. “He’s already started his family.” How long did Max say it had been since Rowan had left mysteriously? Months, I thought.

For the first time, I saw the big picture. I didn’t need to save Marco. I needed to save the past. To help them find this lost Spanish treasure. If that included the King’s key, I’d cross more than one thing off my list. But if I saved Rowan, Max could come home with me and maybe live longer than a pirate’s life.

The fictional story of Treasure Island was coming to life right before my eyes.

* * *

I woke with a start. A bell rang. The signal a ship had been spotted on the horizon. Sun streamed into the room, bathing the walls in a golden glow. I rolled out of bed and scuttled to the window. Vane’s sloop was a hundred yards behind us. I let out a happy whoop of relief. He’d found us. Marco and Ace were within my reach. Scratch, scratch. My inner voice crossed two items off my to-do list.

I’d just tied a blue ribbon in my hair when Vane’s sloop pulled alongside. The thunk of gangplanks followed by feet thundered overhead as the men boarded. I peeked out the window. No sign of Marco or Ace.

A knock sounded on the door. “Quartermaster summoned ye topside. Be at yer ready,” Shrug’s gruff morning greeting sounded like he needed a quart of coffee.

A few minutes later, the door swung open. Rowan stood on the threshold. He didn’t speak. Instead, he gave me a get-it-in-gear grunt.

“Women need more than the time it takes to cool your morning tea to prepare for the day.” Good thing I’d already made myself presentable; otherwise, I was certain he’d have me topside in my shift.

He grunt-glared at me and turned on his heel. Shrug held the door open, motioning for me to hurry up.

“Where is Captain Smith?” I asked Shrug, shuffling my half-size-too-small pointy-toed flats toward the ladder to the upper deck. I’d found them in the stolen chest. A perfect match to my hijacked blue dress, but not as pretty as my stilettos. However, they’d make it easier to climb the ladders.

Rowan paused with a foot on the ladder. “The captain had a minor injury during the escape. He’s resting in his cabin and weel join us this evening.”

He was recovering from lateral jumping an entire ship, which took some power and drained a traveler. The more the merrier didn’t hold water when jumping a vessel.

“I hope he makes a speedy recovery.” I struggled up the ladder after him with Shrug on my heels.

My shoe caught on the last ladder rung and I sprawled out onto the main deck, mentally adding pull-ups to my dreaded daily workout routine.

Rowan scooped me up with one hand and plopped me down next to Shrug.

Charles Vane stood with a small number of his crew. The remainder gathered around the deck on the Ranger , some hanging from the mast, others tucking and tying away sails, and all of them watching.

Rowan walked to Vane. The Sea Storm crew crowded behind him, pushing me aside.

“Ye requested Miss Jennifer,” Rowan said. “You have questions?”

Two robust pirates latched onto my biceps and yanked me front and center.

“Aye, I do,” Vane told Rowan, but his eyes took in the Sea Storm, the crew, and the slight damage to one of the poles, which I think they called a spar, as if he was planning his attack.

“Go on.” Rowan stood firm, hand on the butt of his pistol.

“How did ye manage to reach the other side of the island before me?” Vane fingered the handle of the sword in his belt. “I sailed from the harbor ahead of you.”

Rowan towered over Vane, but I knew from the history books Vane was a cunning pirate. “The smoke gave cover, thanks to yer ship. We followed ye out and the wind took our sail, moving us around the cove opposite ye in the darkness.”

Vane scratched his beard, possibly contemplating if it could happen. His gaze leveled on me like I had sprinkled fairy dust on the Sea Storm and leap-frogged over him. “Tell me more about yer visions.”

Shrug cut through the crowd and pointed a finger at me. “She’s a witch.”

Where was the loyalty?

Rowan silenced Shrug with a menacing stare.

“Are you a witch?” Vane semi-circled around me like a shark, evaluating whether his prey was worth eating.

“No. Like I told you. I have visions. I was right about Rogers blocking the harbor and forcing the pirates to take the pardon, was I not?” I attempted a smug look at Vane, but my insides threatened to turn topside, so I wasn’t sure if I had pulled it off.

“Hang her, or for better, keelhaulin’.” Shrug had hurt feelings after being bamboozled with the pig. A few of the crew cheered. These guys fed on drama like piranhas on an amputated arm. They’d love a good soap opera.

“Shut yer trap,” Rowan snapped at Shrug, who cowered toward the back of the crew.

Vane studied me, possibly debating whether I was a witch, the captain’s woman, or both. “We dinnae take kindly to having women aboard.”

“’Tis a good thing she’s no on yer ship,” Rowan said.

Yeah, good thing .

“’Tis Silver aboard?” Rowan moved to stand between me and Vane. “He knows part of the map, does he not? I want to see that you have him before we begin this journey.”

Vane snapped his fingers and Rackham ushered Marco out on the deck of the Ranger . My heart constricted and I felt ill. One eye was black and swollen shut. His hands were bound, and chains clinked around his ankles with each step. He found me and mouthed Sasha.

I gave a baby nod, and relief washed over his face. Although I had no idea if Rowan had found her, I knew she was on the Sea Storm . He looked more bedraggled than when I’d tried to smuggle him off yesterday. And was that blood on his torn shirt?

Vane’s eye’s locked on mine. He’d noticed my interaction with Marco and absorbed it like a poisonous sponge waiting for the right moment to release his deadly spores.

“The captain would like Silver to be placed in our hold until we reach the treasure.” My voice shook only slightly, but my tone sounded firm. Rowan cut his eyes at me.

My inner voice held up her quill, ready to scratch more items off my list.

“No.” Vane scowled, but he snapped his fingers.

I blew out a frustrated huff, and my inner voice lowered her quill. A commotion caught my attention. Vane’s pirate crew parted. Ace was shoved to the front.

His hands were bound, and his shirt sleeve was torn, exposing a gash across his forearm. By the snarling grimace and flaring nostrils, I’d guess he was more agitated than frightened.

“Ye can take this one.” Vane gave a nod at Ace. “He causes more chaos than I desire aboard my ship.”

Rowan grunted, which was Rowan speak for yes. “He’s the cook, and I’m hungry.”

I rushed to Ace and halted short of throwing my arms around him, thankful he was in one piece. Better not show too much enthusiasm for my manservant.

“Are you OK?”

“Bloody ’ell, I’m not OK. Do ye see the size of this cut?” He lifted his arm to show me. “I need stitches. The medical on board the Ranger is less than spectacular.”

“I thought the doctor was dead.”

“Exactly.” Ace shuddered.

“C’mon, I’ll take you back to my cabin.”

Rowan gave a head nod to someone behind me. Mortas, with hands bound, was pushed at Vane. “Ye can have this one. He causes problems I care no about.”

I assumed he was removing Mortas so Max couldn’t question him once he recovered from the jump. “We have minor repairs to mend, and weel be on our way.” Rowan turned to dismiss Vane.

“Captain Vane, so good to see you again,” Mortas said with a confidence that made me queasy. Vane pulled his knife. Ace and I gave a synchronized gasp.

“He’s going to stab ’im.” Ace’s voice seemed almost giddy in my ear.

“Stop!” Someone yelled, then I realized it was me.