Marina showed up on deck a couple of hours before sunset, leaving Maxó to watch over Morris. Forward, Briand clapped to keep the cadence for the Jamaicans to work, bare backs, scrubbing the deck under the sun. Castillano moved among them, hands behind his back, calling them to attention whenever one of them wavered.
The girl looked up at Jean on the bridge. He leaned over the handrail, pointing at them.
"If they don't get a sunstroke, they're stealing the boats to flee in the middle of the night."
"Good riddance!" she replied, biting her apple.
On her way fore she found De Neill, lounging on a roll of lines by the starboard gunwale, smoking his pipe. Like the rest of the filibusters, he enjoyed the show of the Spaniard making the Jamaicans sweat buckets.
"How did he make it?" she asked.
"He threatened them to take the grog from whoever refused to work."
Marina shook her head slightly. "Cunning man."
"He's already got us eating from his hand, by making them sweat and making you smile."
She still chuckled when Castillano spotted her, and made his way among the Jamaicans in no hurry.
"They'd be grateful to leave with Luis," he said with a satisfied smile.
"But they need music," the girl said, and waved for him to follow.
They climbed up the mainmast rigging together, in an improvised race that took them to the maintop laughing and panting. And Marina couldn't remember when she'd last laughed so much. Or rather how long it'd been since she'd last laughed at all.
A few minutes later Oliver joined Briand. He sat on the anchor wheel with his flute and played, so the bosun could give his reddened hands a break.
Marina and Castillano sat side by side on the top. He took her hand and kissed it.
"Forgive me, child," he said, ignoring her objections. "Forgive me for being so blind. For taking so long to understand you always speak truth, and forgetting you're so much better than any of us. But most of all, forgive me for leaving you all alone when you most needed help and support." He met her black eyes, clouded by anguish and exhaustion. "My head is hard as rock, but here I am, my child, and here I stay. With you. Forever."
Marina couldn't hold back her tears. She kept his hand in hers and rested her forehead against his.
"I needed you so much," she muttered. "These months were a nightmare, and I didn't even know where I could find you."
Castillano managed to take her in his arms and make her rest her head on his chest. Marina cuddled in his embrace, fighting in vain to control the emotions overwhelming her.
"Let it out, my child," he whispered, moved by her tears. "Let it all out. Tell me about it, cry, hit me, whatever works for you. Well, as long as it doesn't include your sword, because then I'm spent."
She let out a shaky chuckle. "You silly!"
He gently brushed the raven locks off her face. "Feel like telling me what happened back in Helena Point?"
Seeing the night was closing and Marina still lingered at the maintop, Bones grabbed Morris' dinner and went to the cabin to take the post. And Morris' eye sparkled at the sight of another feast of soup and fruit.
Bones helped him to eat, explaining to him that after those weeks having only water and the fruit Marina shredded into his mouth while he slept, his body needed to get ready for heavier food.
"If we rush, dysentery would feel like a joke. And you don't want the pearl up to her chest in your crap, right?"
Morris smiled. Bones knew how to make him follow his instructions.
"You'll feel starving over the next days. It'll be news and it'll distract you from the pain. We'll stick to fruit, which is light and gives you energy. And we'll slowly make your soup thicker, until you're able to keep a soft stew without a cramp."
"How long?" asked Morris.
"A week, maybe two. It'll depend on your guts' response." Bones gave him the last of the fruit and stood up. "I'll go grab the pearl."
"No... Castillano..."
"You'd rather have me calling Maxó back?" Bones saw Morris' face and laughed. "Thought so. Let me take this to the galley and get my rum."
Back to the cabin, the surgeon found Morris asleep, Dolores' letter and cross to his chest. He smiled and went up to the shelf to pick a book. Then he brought a candle closer and sat at the table to read.
The combination of Bones' promising diagnose and Dolores' letter seemed to work a miracle in Morris' condition. And Castillano's arrival breathed new life to the Phantom and Marina alike. Alonso wasn't happy with the crew trade, but they were only two days off of Port Royal. After leaving the Jamaicans there, he was able to head back to Tortuga with his small crew and the good news.
A month later, the Cartage moored near the Phantom just off a beach in the Great Cayman. And when he boarded the legendary ship, he found Morris on deck.
Marina had bought a cozy couch for him in Curaçao. Maxó and De Neill had moved him from the bed to the seat, and with Castillano's and Bones' help, they'd taken it out of the cabin and on deck. Before that, Marina had shaved him neatly and combed and clubbed his fair hair. She'd dressed him with a new shirt and had covered the legs in their boards with a light linen sheet. Castillano had added to his garments with an elegant leather patch to cover his missing eye.
The crew had caught several turtles on the beach, and that noon Pierre excelled with an exquisite lunch for everybody. Marina had a spare sail set like an awning over her friend, and they put up a board table by him.
Alonso was just in time to take the last available stool at the improvised table, and he noticed the mood had improved so much since he'd last seen them, that he didn't care sitting by Maxó, who flapped his elbows to eat like an eaglet learning to fly.
Later, he brought from the Cartage a pack of letters for Marina and Morris, and even one from Cecilia to Castillano, who ignored the others' curious questions and refused to share it with them.
"Hush, you crows!" said Castillano, waving his hand as to shoo flies away. "What this lady says is none of your business."
Marina watched him, smiling, knowing why her mother had written to him. Just like she'd done with Alonso first, and then with Dolores, her mother's sensibility allowed her to have those effective, yet subtle gestures to make him feel a part of that tight circle all of them considered a family.
The letters included a brief note from Laventry, that distracted them from Cecilia's letter.
"Hurry up, snots, I want to get married," Marina read aloud, making them laugh.
"You still don't want to come back?" Alonso asked to Morris, lowering his voice.
Morris pointed at his legs. "As soon as I can walk again. Bones says he's removing the boards in about a week."
"But you won't stand up and walk like Lazarus."
Marina leaned toward them, lowering her voice as well. "We trust Morris will be able to move around with crutches a week or two after that," she said. "And we've already learned with me how it goes from there."
"Tell Laventry we're taking two more months. If everything works out fine, he can have a pretty summer wedding." Morris held Alonso's eyes. "But tell only him, in case something goes wrong."
"And what about Dolores? This waiting is so painful for her."
"I'll give you a letter for her before you leave."
Marina's peremptory look kept Alonso from insisting, and they joined back the conversation around the table.
Both ships left the island on the next day. Alonso wanted to pick up some things he still had left in Santiago, while the Phantom headed south again.
As the ships took separate courses, Alonso's bosun handed him a telescope, pointing at the Phantom. Through the lens, he saw that all the pirates on deck were looking up at Marina and Castillano, who climbed up the rigging together. Alonso chuckled under his breath.
Sprawled in his couch, Morris waited until Marina and Castillano were halfway to the top. Then he looked down at De Neill at the helm and nodded. De Neill spun the wheel.
"Helm's alee!" shouted Jean on top of his lungs.
The sharp turn caught Castillano by surprise, yet he managed to keep his balance with one hand and one foot. But the Phantom's sudden bobbing made him lose his grip. Seeing he couldn't help falling overboard, he turned in the air to dive head on, so he wouldn't hit the water with his chest or his back.
"Bloody blockhead!" Maxó grunted, handing De Neill a doubloon.
Castillano's head showed out of the water and he saw all the pirates cheering and laughing. The Phantom circled him, so light and swift despite its size. Marina dived to join him and he floated in the warm water, waiting for her. Alonso had told him about that initiation prank that came from Wan Claup's Sovereign, but he would've never thought they'd play it on him.
Marina reached him and he guided her to rest an arm around his shoulders.
"Welcome aboard the Phantom, Hernan Castillano," she said before kissing him.
The Cartage hailed him with a cannon shot and he hailed his friend back with a fist up in the air, shouting, "Up yours, bastard!"
Marina laughed merrily, her black eyes shining once more amidst all that blue wrapping them in its warm embrace.
Castillano turned to her. "You think it's funny?" he asked, pretending to take offense.
He tried to push her down into the water, but she moved away from him.
From the Phantom, the pirates saw them play in the water like children, laughing and splashing each other, chasing each other all around the still ship.
When they grew tired of swimming, they lingered floating in the shade by the hull. Castillano grabbed a step of the ladder as Marina rounded his shoulders with her arm again.
"Tell me, Castillano," she said, still panting. "If we should ever have a son, how would you name him?"
He took a moment to think about it and looked up at the hull and the rigging.
"I think I'd like to call him Manuel," he replied in a thoughtful way.
She didn't hide her surprise. "Manuel? Like my father?"
He nodded, smiling. "Aye. Manuel Castillano: your father's first name and my father's last name. It would be a chance for them to be united again, like they used to be."
A small wave lifted them a little as it rolled under the Phantom's side, and the ship swayed toward them. Castillano chuckled. That wicked ship!
"Looks like somebody liked the idea," he said, amused. Only then he really registered Marina's question, and faced her with eyes like grapefruits. "Why do you ask, Velazquez? Are you...?
She shrugged. "I don't know. I never paid attention to my period, but I think I'm late."
Castillano patted the Phantom's side. "Look away, Grandpa, for I'm kissing her big time."
The wave rolled away and the Phantom straightened up.
Marina laughed heartedly, because Castillano was the only one who dared to treat in such a natural, open way her ship's secret soul. But that was just the way he was. And that was only one of so many reasons why she loved him.
Her eyelids came down, hiding the sea in his eyes to let her taste the sea in his lips.