Swashbuckling in the Dark

Chapter Thirty-two

Sykes had never been one for mourning. Grief had been his constant companion for twenty years, but it had always been a private visitor known to no one but him.

More than a few loved ones had been lost to him, but gradually he had grown numb to it. He'd never openly mourned anyone or anything.

The ability to accept and press forward was a necessity of the pirate's life. Men died, often and suddenly. Men he had grown close to, and considered as friends.

It was with a vague sense of surprise that he held the folded up piece of paper in his fist, brushing at the wet spot from a fallen tear. On the single piece of parchment was written, in invisible ink, the confirmation of Grimm's final taunt to him.

Sykes angrily shoved the damned piece of paper into his vest pocket. It had all been for nothing. Bracing his hands on the rail at the stern, he dropped his head, sighing heavily.

"Captain?"

Sykes grimaced. "Don't call me that," he said harshly.

Raoul took a step forward. "Are you refusing the position?"

"Yes," Sykes growled. He eased up. "No," he countered.

Raoul laid a hand on his shoulder. "You are the one he chose to replace him."

"Stop speaking of him as if he is no longer here!" Sykes shouted, towering over the other man.

Stone-faced, Raoul stepped back, respectfully retreating from his presence. Tallera passed by the silent bosun, hurrying to Sykes' side. She leant against his side, snaking her hand under his arm to grasp his clenched fist.

"He was right," Sykes told her with a humorless chuckle. "He was telling the truth, the blackguard." He reached into his pocket to withdraw the paper, handing it to her. "Dark finally deciphered it. Grimm--at least the one who killed my father--is some kind of game."

Tallera read the paper silently, letting him ramble on. The margins had been overtaken by Dark's scribbles, while the content of the page was hidden, only seen when held up to direct light.

"He told me there was more than one. My father's killer is still out there. He's laughing at me." Sykes cursed, raking a hand through his hair. "Who knows how many more roam these seas? Pretending to be him; hiding him from me."

Tallera pressed her hand against his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "You'll find him. You will."

Sykes scoffed. "He could be dead."

"Then good riddance."

She circled her arms around his shoulders, drawing him into her embrace. Sykes sighed, relaxing in her arms.

She asked softly, "What about Dark and Zaina?"

"We'll find a way. There's still a chance."

Tallera drew back, dark eyes studying him. "You have a plan?"

"More a hope than a plan."

Her deep red brow arched. "Carlos?" she guessed. "The shipbuilder?"

"There's a chance. He managed to spring me," Sykes said.

"Worthington will have the fort under heavy guard. It's a fool's errand," she pointed out.

"And Carlos' price will be steep," Sykes added, rubbing his chin in consideration.

Tallera's black eyes glinted with mischief. "This is not a good plan. We haven't a chance."

A grin formed at the corner of his mouth. "I know."

Tallera smirked. "We will all be killed. The lot of us."

Sykes looked at her, matching her smile with one of his own. "Aye. Let's do it."

THE END

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading Swashbuckling in the Dark! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. The sequel, Swashbuckling on the Edge, is now available on my WP page.

A Swashbuckling backstory is also available in the Sands of Time anthology. Check out my reading list or use this link: https://www.wattpad.com/378298388-sands-of-time-a-tales-of-the-deep-anthology