Sitting on the deck of the Wraith, shackled to Kent and the foremast, was not ideal.
Neither was the mud caked to my skin and clothes and the scratches and scrapes courtesy of trekking through the jungle for hours. The wound on my cheek throbbed with every pulse of my heart. The sun baked my skin mercilessly without a hat or scarf to cover my head.
At least our journey would soon come to an end. We were nearing the spot I'd identified on the charts. I looked towards Barton on the quarterdeck, his eyes on the horizon. He was anxious to arrive.
"I don't really see how this was the best plan," Kent whispered to me for the hundredth time.
"Yeah?" I hissed back. "Well it's better to be dead later than dead now, the way I see it. I was improvising."
"But this way he'll get the treasure," Kent argued, keeping one eye on our guards. "And be able to accomplish God knows what with it."
"If we're not dead later, we'll find a way to bring down their unholy alliance," I said back.
Kent was right about the plan being horrendous, but there were few options left. As soon as Kent and I had stumbled from the jungle and back into the town proper, Barton's men had been waiting to recapture us. Knowing Barton was likely already trying to pry the information he wanted out of Tallera, I'd seen no other choice than to volunteer the coordinates and hope we could find another way out. Still, the practical side of me harped on the issue, to the point I could do little but sit and stew or imagine increasingly unlikely ways we could save ourselves.
Tallera was back belowdecks, and I tried not to worry too much for her, but it proved impossible. There was no way to know if she was still safe, if she'd been injured. My head throbbed, reminding me of my own wounds, and I grimaced.
"Zaina, look."
Kent nodded at the splash of green looming up ahead. The island was taller than it was large; its single peak stretching upwards, dragging a carpet of greenery with it. The beach was non-existent; the edges bubbled out all around the circumference like a lady's billowing skirt, then blended with the sea.
"I sincerely hope this is a dormant volcano," Kent muttered.
I hummed in agreement, scanning the shore while Barton ordered the helmsman in a tour around the small island, searching for a suitable place to go ashore. At first, there didn't seem to be any chinks in the island's natural armour. The slopes of the mountain were so steep as to be difficult to climb and the thick greenery was an impenetrable screen. But sure enough, Barton soon spied an opening.
We waited on the deck while the crew dropped anchor and readied the boats. There were only two groups going ashore—I suspected because Barton didn't yet trust I'd directed him to the right location. When Tallera was brought up on deck, I wanted to protest but kept my mouth shut.
Plopped into one of the boats opposite her, I winced at the sight of her bruised face.
"It's not as bad as it looks," she tried to reassure me.
I frowned. "It looks awful," I said, then, chagrined, pressed my lips together.
Tallera snorted. "It's fine, Zaina. They didn't do much."
"I'm sorry you've been dragged into this."
She pinned me with a hard stare. "This is not your fault."
Barton descended into the front of our boat, cutting short our conversation. We edged towards the island, rolling on the tide. Up close, I saw the gap between land and sea—a pocket of space formed by an overhang. With the water level so high, we would barely squeeze through. All of us ducked down into the boat, our chests to our knees, as we floated into the sea cave hidden inside.
The hard crust above us was pocked with three holes of similar size, letting some light into the cave. Here there was sand, a small stretch of it where the water receded. Beyond that was both a promising and eerie sight: a natural tunnel, formed in the volcanic rock.
My breath quickened. I didn't relish another journey through a pitch-black underground tunnel. Who knew where this one led? Perhaps to treasure. Most likely to death.
We landed and disembarked, but Barton didn't bother to remove our shackles. With a raised brow, he turned to me and gestured to the tunnel. Not wanting to go first, but also not wanting to seem a coward, I accepted the lantern Pivens offered me and stepped forward. Kent, still attached to me, stumbled after.
Realizing it would be impossible for both of us to travel shoulder to shoulder in the narrow passage, Barton sighed and ordered our guard to separate us. Kent tried to smile, but the expression just betrayed his nervousness. With another calming breath, I inched into the passage, Kent at my back, the others following him.
I really hoped this wasn't another of Ramirez's tricks.
We trekked through the passage in silence. My lantern only cut through the first few feet of the gloom, revealing nothing but black rock and an increasingly shrinking space. When I was forced to crawl forward on my hands and knees, it was suffocating. Kent's muttered comments about how creepy the place was were sort of nice, helping to keep me focused.
The floor vanished. I was plummeting into nothing. I shrieked.
Landing on my belly, I searched blindly until I found the edge of the sheer drop.
Kent bumped me, his hands scrabbling at my boots. "Zaina! What's happened?"
Relaxing, I let out a breath. "It's a ..." I lifted the lantern higher to get a sense of what I'd stumbled across. "A pit, I think."
Realizing the tunnel had opened into a roomier cavern, I inched way to standing, keeping the lantern high.
"You can stand up in here," I told Kent, reaching down to help him.
As the rest of them piled into the cavern, the extra lanterns revealed a wide, deep pit. No way to jump across, and deep enough that once you were inside, it was impossible to climb back out unaided. Whoever had carved this out of the rock had smoothed the walls of the pit.
Barton frowned at the obstacle, then glared at me as if it were my own fault. He turned to two of his men, ordering the first to lower the second into the pit.
Tallera pressed against my side while the two pirates used rope to secure the one unfortunate enough to be sent down into the pit. I twined my hand around hers and squeezed.
"Are you hurt?" I asked. I didn't mention the baby for fear Barton or the others would hear, but I shot a quick glance at her abdomen.
"We're fine," she whispered back, answering my second unspoken question. "This plan is really the best you could come up with?"
"My thoughts exactly."
"Did you have a better one, Kent?"
The pirates were climbing down into the pit. My lantern was taken away and used to help light the man in the pit's way.
"There's a rope bridge attached to the other side, captain!" he called out. "It's lying down here."
Barton knelt at the ledge, hand outstretched. "Throw it up!" he commanded.
He caught the loose ends of the crude rope bridge, no more than a tangle of knots, and pulled it taut. It stretched the expanse of the pit, but there was nowhere to secure it. At least two others would have to hold the bridge aloft while a third person crossed the precarious distance.
Realizing this, Barton grumbled in frustration. He chose his two strongest men and ordered them to hold the bridge secure. While one helped the man out of the pit, Pivens prodded us forward.
Barton glared at me. "We'll go across," he said, then nodded at Tallera. "We'll bring her along to ensure you stay so cooperative."
Gritting my teeth against my objections, I cast Kent a quick look. Pivens shoved me forward, but I caught myself before I fell.
"Ladies first," Barton grinned, gesturing at the perilous bridge.
Lowering myself, I gripped the rough rope in shaking hands. Though Barton's men held it taut, it continued to sway and dip under my weight. I didn't think a fall into the pit would kill me, but it wasn't comforting to know there was nothing but air between me and solid rock.
Using my knees, toes and forearms, I awkwardly shuffled forward, my heart dropping each time my hand slipped through a rung or my boot caught. Lifting my head, I realized I couldn't see the other side, and the blood froze in my veins. I stared hard at my hands, ignoring the empty space beneath.
Taking quick, sharp breaths, I forced myself to keep moving until my hands scratched at blessedly firm rock. Gasping, I hauled myself off the bridge and rolled to my back to catch my breath.
"I've made it across," I called out. "But we need a lantern!"
Barton's reply echoed in the cavern. "Send him back down, he can bring the light over."
A moment later, the first pirate was back, lifting the lantern as high as he could. I reached down into the pit and grabbed the light he offered, using it to explore my surroundings. A darker spot in the dimness told me there was another tunnel. I sighed.
After Barton, Tallera, Pivens and another pirate crossed over, we continued our trek. Three of Barton's pirates and Kent remained behind, ready to help us on the way back.
The second tunnel was wide enough for me to walk upright. Unfortunately for the men, they had to stoop, but I didn't muster any sympathy as they still forced Tallera and I to walk ahead of them.
When the endless rock again opened up, it was to another peculiar cavern, this one triangular, with a low, sloping ceiling. Stepping forward, I would have plummeted straight into a crevice had Tallera not dragged me back.
Pivens grunted in frustration once he realized. "Another bottomless pit?"
"A crack in the rock," Tallera said, crouching and shining her lantern into the abyss. The light couldn't cut through—the drop was too far.
On either side of the furrow was a narrow ledge, just enough to walk on, but the slope of the walls on either side meant one would need to walk nearly bent in two and risk losing balance. The opposite wall was too far to brace upon. Another two-person obstacle.
"How far does it go?" Barton demanded.
"Too dark to see," Tallera replied, rising with a sigh.
I looked at her and held out both my hands. She glanced down at them, then up at my face. When she raised a brow, I nodded in encouragement. Handing the lantern to a perplexed Pivens, she clasped my hands and waited expectantly.
"We might need that," I said, frowning at the lantern as I tried to devise a strategy. A simple one was to use rope to tie it around my neck, which wasn't perfect, but it would have to do.
We shuffled towards the furrow, facing each other, pressing our heels back against the wall. We let go of each other long enough to walk out on the ledges opposite each other. When we bent over the chasm, there was a second of freefall before our outstretched hands caught and we created a human bridge.
Literally putting our trust in one another's hands, Tallera and I gripped each other's fingers tightly, supporting one another, and began to walk.
It was more of a slide or side-to-side shuffle, but it was adequate. There were spots where the ceiling dropped our bent backs even lower, straining our arms. With only the lantern swinging, I caught glimpses of Tallera's pale face or hands entwined with mine, heard her panting breaths matching my own. Its added weight increased the ache I felt, but it was better than going through blindly.
Behind us, I could hear Barton and probably Pivens making their way across with plenty of cursing and grunting. The third man would have to be left behind. Now we were down to four.
I nearly shouted in joy when the swaying lantern illuminated the closing of the furrow, with nothing but flat, black rock beyond. We'd reached the other side.
Tallera and I carefully disentangled then sat down to catch our breaths. Pivens and Barton arrived soon after, using the two remaining lanterns to explore the area.
"There's another tunnel," Pivens announced.
Tallera groaned. Barton turned on us with a scowl, ordering us back to our feet.
"We need water," I protested, my throat like sandpaper. The air in the cave was hot and damp; coupled with the exertion, I felt like I was boiling to death.
Barton sawed his jaw back and forth but nodded at Pivens, who tossed me the canteen. I handed it to Tallera, ensuring she had a few gulps before I took a healthy sip. Wiping my forehead with a sleeve, I stood, helped Tallera up—though she rolled her eyes in protest—and continued what I hoped would be the final leg of this journey.
I'd made it no more than a few steps into the dark, too-hot tunnel when a tremor raced up my spine. A moment later, the ground began to vibrate.
"What's happening?" Barton growled, stopping in his tracks.
The vibrations in the rock continued, intensifying, then stopped abruptly. My breath was frozen in my chest, and I forcefully exhaled.
"We should turn back," I said, turning to look at Barton. "It's not safe."
Barton glared at me. "We are not turning back until we have his treasure in our hands," he bellowed. "Keep moving!"
"Then go on yourself," Tallera snapped.
Barton reared back his fist, but Tallera dodged the blow, snaking out her leg to catch him in the knee. Barton buckled and crashed into the tunnel wall with a roar of pain and fury.
"You bitch!" he howled.
Tallera lunged, but Pivens stepped in front of her, trapping her arms at her sides. She twisted in his grip, trying to get to Barton again. He straightened, testing his swollen knee.
He turned to Pivens and ground out, "Keep. Moving."
Pivens let go of Tallera and half-heartedly prodded us, but his expression told me he wasn't any happier about going on. Knowing Barton wouldn't be swayed, I pressed on.
As we walked on, there were no more tremors in the earth, but I waited anyways, imagining I could feel the rock moving beneath the soles of my boots.
When I spotted soft, white light up ahead instead of the reddish glow of the lanterns, I knew we must be getting close to an exit. My hopes were partly dashed when I emerged into an open bubble-shaped cavern, like the sea cave we had entered through.
This one was far larger, with natural sky lights that let sunshine spill into the cave. Black rock receded and gave way to another spit of sand, looking out of place. The air was blessedly fresh, humid and salty, if still too hot, and I breathed in the familiarity. A quick look told me there were many crevices and tunnels branching out from this place, divots and bubbles in the rock formed long ago.
"Have we arrived?" Barton asked me expectantly.
"I've no idea," I muttered, then added, louder, "I'm not sure. Neither the journal nor the charts were very specific beyond this island."
"Captain," Pivens said, then pointed to a pile of driftwood on the far side of the sand island.
Someone had stacked driftwood of different sizes upright against the wall, lashing them together with rope. The shape was tall and narrow, and seemed far too deliberate.
Expecting a trap of some kind, I ran my fingers over the smoothed edges of the wood. Tied with thin strips of leather as well as rougher rope, whoever had left this here had created a long, narrow box. It dawned on me what its purpose was even as Pivens stepped forward to pry it open on Barton's order.
The driftwood box swung open.
Leering back at us was a skeleton. It stared at a spot over my left shoulder, the skull tilted back slightly so it looked up at the natural skylights.
Unimpressed with the reveal, Barton hissed air through his teeth. "That's it!?"
I stepped a bit closer, examining the bones for some clue we were missing. With its arms at its sides, its shoulder propped against the wood, its pose struck me as forlorn, mournful.
Without warning, the ground lurched, tripping me off my feet. I landed on hands and knees in the sand, facefirst in the driftwood coffin. When the quakes ended, I peeked through my lashes.
"It's not safe!" Tallera protested again to Barton's deaf ears.
While they argued, my gaze landed on a lump at the skeleton's feet. Someone had wrapped a small object in cloth and tied it shut. Pivens and Barton were busy arguing in low voices, so I impulsively reached out and pocketed the item.
Standing, I cut into the discussion. "The treasure isn't here," I pointed out, "And who knows where the rest of those tunnels lead?"
"We'll keep searching," Barton retorted. He resembled a bull, snorting and pawing the ground in agitation.
Pivens frowned but didn't comment. Tallera and I exchanged a look. We both knew that with the steady stripping of Barton's men in the tunnels, we had a much better chance of escaping our captors. But the timing would have to be right for us to take them by surprise.
"We will go on," Barton said firmly. "I will not lose this chance."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than another earthquake started, this one more violent than the one before. The four of us were shaken off our feet, struggling to stay upright.
As the tremors eased, I caught Tallera's eye. With a wink, she righted herself and set her sights on Barton.
~oOo~
"This plan in insane!"
Ignoring Ramirez's outburst, Dark gripped the ship's wheel, turning her to catch the full force of the wind.
"I prefer ingenious," he shouted back.
"You're going to damage my ship!"
Dark laughed. "It's my ship!" he argued. "I remember a certain captain turned shipbuilder giving it to me as a gift!"
Ramirez muttered something nasty under his breath. Sykes clapped his hand to Dark's shoulder, leaning in to be heard over the wind's howl. The sails were stretched to bursting, the small ship flying over the water's surface. They would need all the speed they could get. The rest would depend on Dark and the opportune moment.
"The ram is in place," Sykes told him. "The men are ready and in position."
Not a moment too soon, Dark thought. The island, a spit of land in deep waters, speared up on the horizon. The Wraith was anchored off the southern side, exposed and unaware of the coming ambush. His plan was risky, but Dark hoped it would be unexpected.
As they raced ahead, the crew of the Wraith scrambled to fight back. A half dozen black eyes poked out of the deck, revealed by open canopies.
"Get ready!" Dark roared, as the first cannon blast sounded.
With the Ebony coming straight on, she presented a much smaller target. Most of the cannonballs sailed uselessly into the water. Dark urged the ship forward, but the second volley was readied before they closed the gap.
"Get down!" Sykes bellowed, taking a firm hold of Dark's collar.
The men of the Ebony hit the deck as a cannonball whistled over their heads, clipping the mizzenmast behind Dark, Sykes and Ramirez.
Cursing, Dark grappled for the wheel, desperate to right their course. Above, he heard Ozzie in the crowsnest, wailing like a madman, taunting their enemies.
"That all ye have ye short-stumped arsworms!? I'll cut out yer eyeballs and shove 'em straight up--"
"Ozzie, take cover!" Ramirez shouted. "You had better be certain of your plan, Dark!"
Dark wrenched the wheel into place, hoping the men heard his orders to rein in the sails above the noise. With the momentum they'd earned, the Ebony was on a collision course with the enemy ship. Unable to move aside in time, several pirates on the Wraith threw themselves overboard. Others weren't so lucky.
The Ebony rammed the other ship in a cacophonous screech of wood and metal. The iron, wedge-shaped ram attached to her bow ripped viciously into Barton's ship, snapping it free from its anchor and nearly ploughing straight through.
Thrown from the force of the crash, Dark and Sykes tumbled together like rag dolls across the quarter deck. Disentangling themselves, Sykes rushed towards the bow. Whipping the wheel side to side, Dark fought to rid his ship of its impaled prey
Drawing the sails in, the Ebony's crew worked to slow her charge. Dark's men leapt to action, swinging aboard the enemy ship to pick off any stragglers. The surviving pirates in the water began climbing over the rail of the Ebony. Ramirez joined Keith, Johnny, Raoul and Kaspar to pick them off before joining the brawl on the other ship.
"They're not onboard!" Sykes shouted over the noise of the fight, running back to Dark. "We need to go find them!"
Following Sykes, Ramirez sheathed his sword and jerked his chin towards the island. "I know the way in," he told them. "Grab a longboat or two and let's go!"
Once the last of Barton's men were dispatched or had surrendered, Raoul took over the helm from Dark. Dark, Sykes and Ramirez hopped into the boats while the men remained behind to guard the ship and their prisoners.
Dark, Sykes and the others trailed Ramirez into the hidden sea cave. They'd been crawling through the tunnels for a few minutes at most when an earthquake hit them. The tremors shook them like marbles in a pipe, battering and bruising them as they bounced off the rough tunnel walls.
When it ended, Ramirez called out, "Keep moving!"
They pressed on, unsettled by the quake but determined. When they emerged into the cavern, Barton's men were so shocked at the intrusion they were slow to react. Ramirez rolled to his feet and buried his cutlass in the first man, shoving him aside. Dark turned on the remaining two, who were guarding Kent. He matched blades with them, joined quickly by Ramirez and Sykes, who made quick work of them.
Bending to slice through Kent's bonds, Dark asked him. "Where are the women? And Barton?"
"They went in further," Kent replied, shaking out his aching hands. He nodded at the pit beside them. "At least two of us will need to stay behind," he explained.
Ramirez frowned. "I know the way through these tunnels," he said, "I should go on, but the other two can return to the ship and meet us on the other side of the island for our escape."
Dark glanced at Sykes, who sheathed his cutlass with a grim expression. "I'll stay behind," he said to Sykes. "Kent, too."
Sykes' eyes widened. "Dark, I can't ask you to do that."
Dark clapped his hand to his friend's shoulder. "You're not asking. I'm telling. Go and find Zaina and Tallera. Bring them back to us."
Sykes stared at Dark a long moment, then nodded shortly. Kent, having hopped into the pit, threw the end of the rope bridge to Dark. He and Kent pulled the bridge taut, holding it in place for Sykes to climb across.
Ramirez paused before making his own way across and turned to Dark. "The east side of the island," he said, "There's another way out. Meet us there as soon as you get back."
Dark nodded. "As long as you promise to get that bastard for me."
Ramirez smirked. "See you outside."
Sykes and Ramirez, reaching the other side, signalled to Dark and Kent, who let the bridge drop back into the pit. They turned towards the black maw of the tunnel.
"We'll have to go on in darkness from now on," Ramirez told him.
Sykes rolled his head on shoulders, cracked his knuckles. He gripped the handle of his cutlass. "I'm no' afraid of the dark."
Ramirez chuckled. "Then the only way is forward."
Without looking back, they charged into the tunnel.
~oOo~
Tallera charged at Barton like a madwoman, knocking him into the cave wall and momentarily stunning him.
With the two men distracted, I reached into the driftwood coffin, snagged one of the skeleton's rib bones and yanked, snapping it free. Whirling, Pivens lunged at Tallera, but I scrambled onto his back, locking my arms under his chin and yanking back as hard as I could.
He struggled while I held on, all four limbs wrapped around him. I gripped the bone and squeezed his throat with my arm. Pivens' hands grabbed at me and he wrenched around sharply, throwing his weight around to dislodge me. I went flying into the sand, the hard impact knocking the breath away from me.
Pivens pounced, grabbing at my legs and trying to subdue me. Kicking out, I heard a satisfying grunt when I hit something solid. Tallera came to my aid, a fireball streaking towards us. When I rolled away from Pivens' grasp, I saw Barton slumped by the wall, touching his bleeding head. Pivens snatched at me, then Tallera was latched onto him like a deranged monkey, shrieking and scratching at him.
Pivens, stronger than he looked, threw her aside and reached a hand towards the pistol in his belt. Before he could draw it, I grabbed the rib bone from where it had landed in the sand and flung myself forward.
Rising from his knees, Pivens was half-turned from me, moving up and forward to my left. My hand came up in an arc, underneath Pivens bent arm and under his ribcage. The force of his momentum pulled the makeshift weapon into his body; flesh stretched tight and burst. Blood spurted over my fingers. Face frozen with shock, Pivens dropped his hands limply, patting uselessly at his torso. The rib was ripped from my hand, slicing into my palm and fingers, and I tumbled into the sand.
A rattling gasp escaped from Pivens, who'd dropped next to me. I looked up at his face, watching his wide, wide eyes roll in their sockets.
"TALLERA!"
Sykes' deep bellow echoed in the sea cave. My eyes strained to believe the sight of Sykes and Carlos charging in from the tunnel, cutlasses raised. I was ready to shout for joy when the two men abruptly halted, their expressions switching from relieved to battle-ready in an instant.
Sitting up, I saw why immediately. Barton, recovered from Tallera's attack, had seized her from behind and was holding the sharp blade of his own weapon to her throat.
"Not another step," he warned Sykes, tightening his bruising grip on her.
"Barton," Pivens gasped, his hands white-knuckled where they gripped the protruding bone in his side. "Help...me..."
Barton coldly ignored his shipmate, his gaze focused on Sykes and Carlos.
"I've had enough of your tricks!" he screeched. Barton's eyes were wide and wild, his nostrils flared. "I will have your prize, Ramirez! Enough of these games! Tell me where it is, and I'll let her go." He gave Tallera a jerk for good measure.
I turned to Sykes and Carlos, sure I had misheard Barton. But they were both stony-faced, impossible to read.
"The treasure is here," Carlos said, lifting his hands placatingly. "It is not a lie, or a trick. It lies deeper in the caverns ahead."
Barton hissed air through his teeth. "You will not ruin this for me." His sword-hand twitched, dangerously close to Tallera's throat.
Sykes' eyes narrowed. "Release her."
"No!" Barton spat, then refocused on Carlos.
"Take the treasure," Carlos growled, taking a careful step forward. "I don't care! It's yours!"
"Which way?" Barton growled. "Tell me where or I'll bring her along and get her to tell me!"
Carlos lifted his arm and pointed to one of the adjoining tunnels. "That one."
Barton looked, then quickly back at his quarry. He moved back a step, bringing Tallera along, then roughly shoved her ahead of him, bolting for the tunnel Carlos had pointed out. Tallera stumbled, and Carlos jumped forward to catch her.
"Sykes!" he shouted, when the man moved to run after Barton. "Stop!"
Sykes wasn't listening. He charged across the sand, cutlass raised, ready to follow Barton into the tunnel that lead who knew where.
"Sykes!" Carlos called again.
The ground began to shake, so violently that it formed furrows in the sand beneath us; tiny grains tumbled into the chasms. I tried to stand and lost my balance as the rumbling increased, then stopped suddenly.
"We need to go!" Carlos was yelling. "Now, Sykes!"
One hand braced on the cavern's wall, Sykes glared down the tunnel Barton had disappeared into a second longer. Then he shoved his cutlass into his belt and turned back to the three of us. Bending down, Sykes pulled Tallera from Carlos' arms and hugged her tightly, burying his face in her mass of red hair.
"Are ye alright, lass?"
"I'm fine," she said impatiently, pushing him back. "Are you ready to leave, or do you want to follow a madman into certain death some more?" she demanded. "I'm glad to see you're alive, Sykes, don't make me regret that!"
Sykes managed a small smile. He reached out to brush a strand of crimson away from her face. "I'm with ye, lass. Lead the way."
"I'll do the leading," Carlos interrupted before Tallera could finish her retort.
"Which way leads out?" I asked.
Carlos pointed to a tunnel on the opposite side of the cave. Sykes pushed Tallera and I towards it, then knelt to check on Pivens. Looking back, I saw Carlos staring hard at the driftwood coffin, his emotions carefully masked.
"It's too late for him," Sykes announced, rising from Pivens' side. "Let's go."
Carlos jerkily turned away, quickening his step until he was ahead of us. The four of us, each armed with a lantern, hurried into the next tunnel, Carlos in front, Sykes bringing up the rear. We'd barely made it a few yards when the earth started shaking in earnest.
"Keep moving!" Carlos shouted. "It's not far!"
Steps uneven, we half-ran through this tunnel, blessedly wider than the last ones. Soon I could see light up ahead, and my heartbeat hammered a little faster.
The quakes came more urgently, blending into one steady vibration under our feet, as if the mountain was anxious to be rid of us. The noise of the island shaking drowned out the sound of our boots pounding against rock, the sharp huffs of our breathing.
"Do not stop!" Carlos bellowed.
The pinprick of light ahead was growing. We were almost out. My chest burned, sweat poured down my face. I could feel every vein in my body thrumming, pulsing. Almost there. The entire tunnel was shaking, ready to explode.
Carlos skidded to a stop at the tunnel mouth, seizing Tallera, nearest to him, by the arm and flinging her outside. Tallera let loose a scream as she plummeted from view. The next second, Carlos' fingers wrapped around me and shoved me over the ledge.
I was falling.
Nothing but air. Nothing but blue. My heart flew out of my mouth. My lungs screamed.
Water. I was going to hit the water. Kickstarted by the impending danger, my brain rallied itself enough to command my arms and legs to move.
I crashed into the sea.
Lost in the silent, murky world for a moment, I myself float, the water buffeting me with subtle vibrations. Bubbles fizzed up my limbs, zapping my skin. When I regained my senses, I used a few short kicks and breached the surface. Sound returned. The island was growling, shaking. At the mount, a darkening cloud of ash puffed out into the air. There was a haze hanging over the water, stinging my salt-filled eyes and clogging my throat.
Something touched my arm and every muscle in me went rigid. Tallera's fingers wrapped around my bicep.
"Just me," she assured me.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm feeling a bit uncharitable towards Carlos, but otherwise fine."
I heard a splash nearby, and a moment later Carlos was rising from the water, slicking his dark hair from his face. Sykes bobbed a few feet away, treading water furiously.
"I can't keep this up for long," he grunted, working his powerful legs. "Where the hell is Dark?"
"Coming," Carlos replied.
The Ebony was surging through the water towards us, fighting the waves caused by the island's trembling. She crested and crashed down again and again, a raven swooping up and down.
A low rumbling grew into an explosive roar, shaking the island in the sea, the bones in my body. Ash erupted from the peak and began raining down, followed by thin orange streams of molten rock.
Clearing my eyes, I could see Dark at the helm, arms locked he fought for control of the ship. Drawing the ship as closed as he dared, he tried to hold the ship in position while the men onboard flew to the railings, ready to lower some ropes for a rescue.
Sykes caught the first length of rope, reaching for Tallera and tying it securely around her. Raoul towed her in with a few powerful tugs and she clambered up the ladder as quick as she could.
"Zaina, go!" Sykes bellowed, tying off the second rope around my waist.
I worked my arms, swimming for safety, while Keith pulled on the other end. Seawater speckled with ash forced itself down my throat, choking me. I flailed until I touched the roughened wood of the hull and blindly searched for the ladder's grooves.
The incredible howl of the erupting volcano deafened me. The tremors were so strong I felt them; underwater waves crashing into me. Somehow my feet found friction and I climbed. Hands seized my wrists and pulled. My cut hand throbbed but I gritted my teeth and held on until I flopped onto the deck, exhausted and panting.
"Zaina!"
Dark's voice. He was alive.
"She's alright!" Raoul shouted.
"Get moving!"
That was Carlos.
Two pairs of hands helped me up and I fought the queasiness assailing me.
"Zaina, your hand is bleeding."
At Johnny's welcome voice, I wrapped him in the tightest hug I could manage. "Thank, God, Johnny," I muttered. "You are a sight for sore eyes."
Flushing red, Johnny rubbed a palm over the back of his neck and avoided my gaze. Laughing, Keith slung an arm around my shoulders.
"Alright, Zaina?"
I blew out a noisy breath. "I am now, thanks to all of you. How did you do it?"
Keith shot me a grin. "That's a story for later, I think." He nodded behind us.
My eyes almost fell out of my skull when I turned and saw the explosion of ash and lava spraying from the island. The Ebony raced through a cloud of smoke that stung our eyes and clogged our lungs. Waves slapped at her hull from every direction, the rumbling quakes throwing her off course.
Long seconds passed where we held ourselves steady, men gripping the sail ropes of the rails while we were tossed around. On the lower level, others manned the oars, trying to keep our course correct and steer us to safety. No one dared breathe, or even shout, for the noise would be lost in the incredible roar.
The Ebony's prow pierced the haze and we blasted through the storm into calmer seas. A collective breath was released and a muted cheer rose over the deck. On the quarterdeck, Dark dropped his head to his hands, still clutching the wheel with a white-knuckle grip. Sykes, beside him, slapped him firmly on the back.
Racing up the steps, I saw Dark lift his head again in time for me to plough into him. With a laugh, he caught me in his arms. Sykes took over the wheel and I wound my arms around Dark, burying my face in his neck.
"You're okay."
His hand stroked over my hair. "I'm not easy to get rid of."
Grinning, I drew back and planted a kiss on his mouth. He held tightly to me, then let me slide back to my feet. Dark traced the slice on my cheek with a concerned frown. When he spotted my bleeding hand, he grabbed it and wrapped it with a handkerchief, muttering in disapproval.
"It's not like I get hurt on purpose," I defended, narrowing my eyes.
Dark shook his head and pressed his lips to my temple. "You'll age me before my time, Zaina."
I snorted, letting him fold me back in his arms. Turning my face to rest on his chest, I saw Carlos staring out of the ship's stern at the island.
Slipping away from Dark, I joined him at the rail, seeing his heavy heart reflected in his remaining good eye.
"He was a friend of yours. The body in the driftwood coffin."
Carlos glanced at me. "Lars," he said on a sigh. "My first mate."
"I'm sorry." I watched the growing storm of ash, smoke and fire with him. I had to ask him the question that was prickling the back of my brain. "Was the treasure ever there in the first place?"
A mischievous smile curled Carlos' lip. "It was." He chuckled dryly. "Grimm will have to content himself with being buried with the treasure. It paled in comparison to the Lars' treasure."
"Lars' treasure?"
Carlos turned to me when I fumbled in my pocket, retrieving the cloth-wrapped item I'd snatched from the coffin.
"You mean this?"
Carlos burst into laughter. "So you didn't walk out empty-handed!" He grinned. "Dark told me how hard you worked to decipher my charts and the journal," he explained, seeing my bewilderment. "I was hoping it hadn't been lost."
Extending a hand, he silently asked permission. I dropped the item into his hands, and he carefully unwrapped it. Inside was a gemstone unlike any I had ever seen—small and flat, it was rough rock on one side and smooth as glass on the other. It was the exact colour of the Caribbean's seas. The white striations in the blue naturally resembled gently waves on the shore; it was a tiny ocean trapped in a stone.
"It's beautiful," I murmured, watching the waves inside reflect the light as I turned it in my palm.
"I named it Larimar," Carlos said. "In honour of my friend."
"A fitting name," I agreed, holding it out for him to take.
He shook his head. "Keep it," he said, then with a smile, "A gift for my niece."
I paused in tucking the stone back in its wrappings. I whipped my head up. "Your what?!"
Dark watched the exchange between Zaina and Ramirez with a slight smile. The pirate captain lifted his hand carefully placed it on her shoulder. In true Zaina fashion, she didn't hesitate and grabbed him in an embrace he gladly returned.
When he looked away to give them privacy, he was greeted with the sight of Tallera passionately kissing his first mate at the wheel.
"So many reunions," Dark teased.
Tallera drew back to scowl at him, then smiled tauntingly. "Don't be jealous, Dark."
Dark held a hand to his heart. "I would never," he promised. He grinned and playfully punched Tallera in the shoulder. "I'm happy to see you, Tallera. In all seriousness."
She bumped him with her shoulder, then leaned against her husband, winding her arm around his waist. Dark took over steering the ship so Sykes could properly embrace his wife. Dark looked down the deck at his crew, fluffing out the sails and chattering amongst themselves as usual. With the danger gone, they were all ready to get back to business.
"I have something to tell ye, lass."
She looked at him expectantly. "Well? I'm listening."
Sykes placed one huge hand over Tallera's slightly rounded belly. His hand spanned her body, cradling her protectively.
"I've a name picked out for our daughter."
Tallera arched a crimson brow. "Our daughter? I wasn't aware we were having one."
"I've a feeling." Sykes grinned. Lifting onto her toes, Tallera kissed him, then snuggled in close.
Smiling at their exchange, Dark shifted to the side when Zaina joined him at the helm. Lifting his arm, he drew her in front of him, enclosing her between his hands. Zaina leaned back against him and he let his chin rest on the crown of her head.
"Where to next?" she asked him, tilting her head back.
Dark kissed her cheek. "I'm not sure," he said back. He lifted his gaze to the horizon, the setting sun chasing rays of fire across the sea. "Wherever you command, my lady," he added with a chuckle.
Zaina laughed. "On to the next adventure?" she suggested. Dark pulled her in close against him, keeping one hand on the wheel, imagining their heading across the water to the darkening horizon.
"The next one," he agreed.