Crossbones

CASPIAN

I needn’t have worried.

The Phantom didn’t see a single ship the entire trip to Foxhollow and made it safely into port with our cargo of refugees.

Not that I wasn’t anxious the entire voyage.

I think I stressed Van and my navigator, Flynt, to no end with my pacing of the quarterdeck.

I also wouldn’t be surprised if I have a permanent indent from the spyglass I had pressed to my eye on a daily basis scanning the horizon for sails.

I hadn’t even bothered to stop into the Fox & Raven this time, too exhausted to even think about faking it.

Instead, I’d dragged Carter home, drank an entire bottle of wine to myself and messed around enough to get off before passing the fuck out.

Unfortunately, I can’t linger in Foxhollow.

With my impending wedding happening as soon as I get home, I have to hurry back to avoid suspicion.

I sit down in a chair by the bed to lace up my boots. The covers have slid down Carter’s back as he lies on his stomach hugging the pillow. The man doesn’t even snore. I stand up and put a hand on the back of his neck squeezing lightly.

“I’ll see you in a few weeks with the next shipment,” I say in a low voice.

Carter groans and cracks open one eye, glaring at me. “Stop yelling,” he grumbles, voice muffled by the pillow.

I chuckle, knowing exactly how he’s feeling because I’m feeling it too: hung the fuck over. Except while he gets to sleep it off in bed, I have to go sail a ship. He opens his other eye, cringing at the light.

“I wish I was coming to the wedding,” he says .

I’d told him about Lady Annika and while he was disappointed, he knew it wouldn’t change anything about us seeing each other, although it would prohibit me from sailing here as often as I currently did.

“No, you don’t,” I say dryly. “This is a royal wedding so it’ll be extra long and boring. You’re far luckier to be staying here.” I don’t even bother mentioning his exile and the small detail of him being killed on sight if he ever sets foot on De’Vero soil again.

He shoves himself up on an elbow and regards me with a clearer look in his eyes.

“Aye, but at least you’d have a friendly face in that sea of rot,” he frowns. “I hate that you’re alone there. I could come as far as Carmine?”

I shake my head and lean down, planting a kiss on his lips. Chaste and quick.

“It’s better if I do this by myself,” I say gently. “I don’t need to be worrying about you on top of everything else I have to worry about at home.”

That seems to appease him, and his cheeks flush a little—probably from my admission about worrying about him. Which is true, but not for the reasons he hopes. Those hopes are currently shining brightly in his eyes as he looks at me.

With a few last murmured promises about the next time I see him, I leave Carter to sleep off his hangover and head down to the docks.

Fog hangs heavy over the bay, casting everything in a world of grey as the sun struggles to break the horizon.

I leave my neighborhood, and the buildings turn into shops and merchant stalls, many just beginning to open for the morning rush.

I’m about to enter the warehouse district when a shadow steps out of a nearby alley and beckons me over.

I recognize her as one of the older women I brought over this last trip.

She’d been wandering around the destroyed shop stalls in a small coastal town, wringing her hands and muttering.

The entire journey here I’d been concerned about her because after stepping onto the ship, she hadn’t left the foredeck.

The entire trip. Through rain, the harsh sun through the Choke and even a small squall.

Now she’s wearing a tattered grey cloak with the hood pulled up, throwing her face into patchy shadows.

As soon as I’m in reach, a gnarled hand latches onto my sleeve and pulls me further into the alley with surprising strength.

I’m still racking my brain for her name, wondering if maybe she never gave it in the first place, when she speaks.

“You buy freedom for many, but chains for yourself.”

I’m caught off guard and shake my head in confusion. “I don’t know what—”

“Yes you do.” Her voice is like silk over steel. “You’re a clever fox. But how long can you fool the hounds? ”

How she knows I’m a prince is concerning, but not totally a surprise. Reaching into her cloak she pulls forth a worn piece of parchment that looks a touch away from disintegrating. She hands it to me and I open it to find a map. I inhale sharply when I realize what it’s a map to.

I look up at her. “Where did you get this?

“You’re asking the wrong questions, my boy,” she scolds. “If you go after this, the cost will be steep. But the lost city can bring down empires and fuel redemption.”

“Why are you giving this to me?”

She scoffs. “You think an old woman like myself is capable of going after something like this?”

I give her a lopsided smile. “We both know you could.”

She looks me up and down begrudgingly. “I’m not the one who’s lost, fox.

” She shrugs. “And it’s not whether I’m capable—it’s whether I need what’s at the end.

” She tilts her head at me, almost slyly.

“A single map can lead the lost to many things—including that which you may not even know you need.”

Cryptic . I decide to ignore the comment about being lost—because, yeah, maybe I am, just a little.

I look down at the map in my hands. The gold at the end of this would be more than enough to destroy a kingdom, or build one—not that I want to be King.

I don’t. But I certainly could fund a real revolution and for the first time, the thought holds some weight in my mind as I go over what it would take to see the House De’Vero crumble into ruin.

My thoughts run wild for a moment before I come back to the present.

I look back up at her. “Thank you.”

She nods. “My advice? Memorize it. Burn it. I held on to it for too long—now I at least know why.” She pats my cheek, her hand surprisingly soft, before ambling off down the street without a backward glance.

Once on deck of the Phantom , I hurry to the Captain’s cabin and pull out the map again.

I smooth it open carefully and lean heavily over the desk, tracing the lines and committing them to memory.

The map is of the northernmost seas of Adrasea called the Stormwrack.

Far beyond where all our current maps show.

I frown, knowing few have ever sailed that far north and lived to tell about it.

It’s fraught with volatile tides, frequent storms and creatures large and curious enough to bring down fleets.

I’ve only sailed as far as the Straights and that was pushing it.

That far north, you also have to deal with a heavier concentration of pirates because of the proximity to their northern stronghold.

It doesn’t take me long to commit the path to memory, notating the scrawl of coordinates where the map says the city should be.

I open the small door of the lantern on my desk and touch the corner of the parchment to the flame.

It hurts to watch the paper blacken and dissolve—something this old and historic should be kept safe—but it’s too dangerous.

If someone else were to get their hands on this map—it could, and probably would, start a war.

The map is almost gone when the door opens and Van and Flynt enter.

“Captain, we are ready to sail at your order,” Van says.

I look up briefly, taking in my quartermaster who looks worried.

A strand of black hair escapes its tie and falls across his face.

He sweeps it aside with irritation. He’s good at his job and the men love him, and listen to him, which is the most important part, especially with what I’m about to ask of him.

“What is it, Van?” I look back down at the map as the last corner flakes away into ash.

“He saw a shark in the bay, sir,” Flynt grumbles.

I look up again, this time at my navigator. He’s a short, bear of a man who manages to not have a single strand of hair on his head but a face full of beard that puts most mens’ to shame. I raise an eyebrow before looking over at Van.

“I never took you for a superstitious person.”

Van glares over at Flynt and then shrugs at me. “Just about a few things…”

“How do you feel about lost cities?” I look between the two men, both having gone still as they gape at me.

“What do you—”

“You know what I mean,” I interrupt suggestively.

It takes a minute to sink in but I see it dawn on them at nearly the same time.

“It doesn’t exist,” Van says flatly.

“But what if it does ?” I state.

“But it doesn’t ?” Flynt offers in confusion.

“Not that I don’t believe you,” Van says slowly. “But do you have proof?”

“I just burned the coordinates.”

Both men blink at me in disbelief. Van opens his mouth as though to say something, fails and has to try again. He runs a hand over his face and nods.

“Of course you did,” he mutters.

“That’s where you both come in,” I grin. “I’m going to address the men once we’re underway.” I wave a hand in the air. “I’ll of course put it to a vote and all that but I need your help to convince them we’re not about to go chasing ghosts.”

“That’s exactly what this is,” Flynt grumbles. “So what—you burned a map. Who’s to say that map was even real?”

I shrug, amusement tugging at my lips. “Looked pretty damn real to me.”

“Jesus Christ,” Van grumbles.

“Let’s just pop up north and see what we can see.”

“Pop up there?” Flynt states. “ Pop up there? You mean just casually sail into the most dangerous waters to ever exist?”

“Of course it’s in the Stormwrack,” Van mutters.

“Well, yeah, where else do you think a lost city would be? No one goes up there,” I say.

“For good reason!” Flynt’s voice is edged with concern and I can tell he’s getting worked up.

“I admit there’s a risk,” I state reasonably. “But think about what this gold could do. It would be enough to fund a real rebellion—”

“Is that what you want?” Van asks. “To overthrow your father?”

My lips press into a thin line. “Someone else needs to rule.”

“And if you overthrow your father and brother, it will be you,” Van insists.

“I don’t want the throne,” I state.

“Yes, we know that,” Flynt sighs. “But who would you put on the throne instead? One of the other Houses certainly won’t be much better.”

“That city has been called De’Vero for far too long,” I comment instead because I don’t have an answer for him. I’ve always thought it pretentious to have the name of the city change to whatever House rules at the time. “We can think about who’ll take the crown after we get the gold.”

“Okay, but I think you’ve forgotten one small detail,” Van says.

I look at him expectantly and his eyes widen in shock. “Your wedding?”

I wave a hand impatiently. “They can postpone it—I’ll send a letter—”

“You’ll send a letter… ” Van echoes incredulously.

“—I’m the prince, they’ll just have to deal with it.”

Van and Flynt fall silent and I can tell they’re thinking hard. I wait patiently, going over the coordinates in my head to keep them fresh. Van, ever the practical one, breaks the silence first. I can see the resignation beginning to take over his face and I know I’ve won.

“You’re obviously going to want to sail to Verdun first, correct?”

“Aye.”

Van sighs loudly. “Fine. Let’s put it to the men—” He looks over at Flynt.

“You think this is worth exploring?” Flynt asks. “Seriously, Van. Enough to risk everything for?”

Van frowns but nods curtly. “I owe Caspian my life. I trust him with it too. If he believes the information he has is good—well, that’s good enough for me.”

Flynt rubs his beard thoughtfully before he throws up his hands. “Alright, I guess we’re going on a fucking treasure hunt.”

I clap my hands, a smile spreading across my face. “Excellent! Let’s talk to the crew!”

Once we've cleared the bay and are out in the open ocean, I lean over the rail of the quarterdeck. My crew is assembled below and they all look up at me with varying degrees of annoyance and boredom. This lot is looking forward to a relaxing stint on shore and I’m about to ruin that.

“How would you boys like to be rich?” I smirk, watching everyone’s attention sharpen— ah, there they are .

“I know you were all looking forward to a break after everything we’ve done these last few weeks, but I’m wondering if I can convince you to continue on a little longer.

First to Verdun—” I pause. “—then to Grythmoor.”

The deck erupts. Everyone is talking at once. I give them a minute of chaos before I hold my hands up and with Flynt’s helpful hollering to shut up, we bring the deck back in order. In the tension filled silence that follows, a few random shouts come out of the crowd.

“That city doesn’t exist.”

“The Stormwrack is a death sentence!”

“Do you have proof?”

Everyone quiets, looking at me expectantly.

“I came across information that told me the exact coordinates. And yes, the Stormwrack is dangerous, but I believe the information I was given is sound and the risk is worth the potential reward.”

I walk towards the stairs to descend into their midst. I hit the bottom step.

“Think of the amount of gold we’re talking about here.

A lost city—rumored to once be the capital of the North.

Wealthier than all of Seven Landings combined.

” I look around at each of the men. “Each of you would of course receive a share. Imagine what you could do with all that wealth.” I grin at them.

“Pretty much anything honestly.” Eyes filled with greed shine back at me.

I have them . “So, what say you?”

“Put it to a vote, men!” Van shouts. “Who wants to go treasure hunting?”