Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
WENDY
THE CRACKED SHARK
I was Wendy Darling, killer of the reputed pirate Captain Hook, newly appointed captain of Death’s Right Hand, more commonly known as the Banshee, and uh, I didn’t know how to sail a ship.
This was awkward.
“So what’s that guy’s deal?” I asked Anton, leaning against the prow and looking at the skeleton nailed to the other side. I’d seen some figureheads in my time, but never a whole skeleton.
Anton, my beleaguered quartermaster, pinched the bridge of his nose before answering. He did that a lot, usually accompanied by a flattening of his eyes, a purse of his mouth, and a flex of his hands like he was trying valiantly not to curl them into fists.
“That’s Pan’s body. A fool who made an enemy of Hook. He thought he could kill the captain and liberate one of the women in our possession,” he said, looking pointedly from me to where Joanna sat on a barrel swinging her legs and smirking at the crew who watched her like she was a ghost come to haunt them. Babies. “Hook’s enemies die in all manner of ways, but they always die. This one decided to insult the captain with his last breath.”
“Ooh, was it a good insult?” I asked, leaning over the railing to grin at the skeleton. “I bet it was something really personal, wasn’t it?” I leaned back, giving Anton a grin. “Was it about dick size?”
His expression flattened.
“It was, wasn’t it?” I pressed, laughing.
“Land, ahoy!” Wynton yelled from the crow’s nest. I shielded my eyes and peered up at my friend(ish), watching him lower a spyglass from his eyes and search the deck for me. “We’re close, captain.”
“Great work, Wynton.” I gave him a double thumbs up. Not everyone had been quite as supportive of me taking over as captain of the Banshee. Some of the most vocal were at the bottom of the sea bed. Three were tied up in the hold, in the same cage where they kept my sister and fuck knows how many other women before her. It had been hell getting the men to follow my command to repair the ropes.
“You should put me in charge,” Anton said sourly. “I know this island, and I’m well acquainted with the routes to the caves.”
“The caves full of gold?” I clarified, my heart quickening. I loved gold. Loved caves, too. I’d grown up playing in them back on Silver Isle. I nearly drowned my brother Michael one memorable time when he dared me to beat him in a race. Not only did I beat him, but I won both a nice purse of bronze coins and a chocolate bar. He won the next race, annoyingly. Thinking about Michael made my chest tight. He was an annoying prick, but I wished he was here.
“I know where to find the gold,” Anton continued his campaign to lead this little trip. “We’ve made this run twice before.”
“Ah, but you didn’t have me as your captain that time.” I patted his sallow cheek, offering him a winning smile. “And I am your captain, like it or not. So I’ll be in charge of this trip. You can advise me, since you’re so experienced.”
His expression darkened, nostrils flaring. “Aye, captain.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard,” I said, patting his shoulder. “We’ll be friends in a heartbeat if you keep up that pretty compliance.”
Anton ground his teeth. He was going to file them away if he kept doing that. I patted his shoulder again and strode through the busy bees bringing the ship around to land, my eyes on the helm. My helm. My ship. All fucking mine.
Look at me, orphan Wendy, captain of her own ship. And not just any ship—Death’s Right Hand.
My heart was so full as I let the yells and creaking and the thwack of canvas and rope surround my senses. Even the stench of fish and salt and sweat had grown on me, a powerful miasma that represented my power, my victory.
Hook’s words echoed in my mind. Like I said, I’m better. I’m winning. “Who’s winning now, Hooky?” I murmured, a disconcerting habit I’d developed. But the man was dead, his spirit probably floating around here somewhere; it wasn’t weird to speak to ghosts, right?
“Any orders, captain?” Anton asked, joining me at the helm, stiff and straight-backed. I narrowed my eyes, feeling like that was a trick question.
“What are your usual orders on a job like this?”
Anton’s smile was not friendly. “I thought you were a brand new captain, with no concern for anything Hook did. A brand new start, didn’t you say.”
Fucker. I did say that just an hour ago. Now I was the one levelling him with a flat look. “Do your job, quartermaster.”
“Or what, captain.”
I raised an eyebrow and had a knife against his crotch in an instant. “Or I’ll grievously harm Little Anton.”
“You can’t rule this crew by threats alone,” he warned, but he stepped away, looking like he’d sucked a sour lemon.
“Please,” I scoffed. “Like Hook didn’t do the same.”
“Hook was fearsome enough that threats were rarely necessary,” he quipped and strode across the ship, yelling orders to bring up empty crates. Ah shit, yeah, we’d need some way to bring the gold aboard. Good plan.
It stung that he thought the old captain was scarier than me, or that I wasn’t scary at all, but that was fine. I just had to kill a few more people. Easy. But I had to stop killing crew members, because I kinda needed them to sail the Banshee.
“Get that damn sail open,” I yelled at Maceo, the sailing master, as he scurried past me. I might not have been an expert pirate, but even I knew we were supposed to come into port slowly, in a controlled manner. We were currently streaking toward the Cracked Shark at alarming speeds. “Slow us down, or I’ll rip your innards out through your nose.”
“Speak a little kinder, or I’ll rip your innards out through your cunt,” he retorted, his expression black and hateful. “I’ll be doing us a favour. It’s bad luck to have a woman aboard.”
“Aw,” I said with mock sympathy, “guess you should have thought of that before you kidnapped my sister.” I drew the gun from my hip and pointed it at Maceo. “Now follow my order, and be quick about it.”
His nostrils flared as he did as I told, eyeing the gun like he was more wary of it than me. Bastard. I shoved the gun back in its holster and scowled, adjusting our course with a white-knuckled grip on the wheel. I didn’t know why everyone was so obsessed with Hook. He wasn’t that impressive. Sure, he’d been tall, and he filled out a coat very nicely, and he moved like shadow and sand, but he’d died like any man.
A really hot, infuriating man.
“Ugh, stop thinking about him,” I snapped at myself. “He’s dead and gone.”
“You’re talking to yourself again, Wends,” Joanna said, jumping off her crate to come and lean against a barrel beside me. There were no clean dresses aboard this ship, so like me she wore belted trousers and a loose shirt bleached repeatedly to remove stains. I really didn’t want to think about some of those stains.
“Helps me focus,” I replied, thinking about the woman who was kidnapped from outside Tajo’s butcher shop, with her many ribbons and her pretty dress. Joanna was unrecognisable now, but the wickedness when she looked at me was familiar.
“Suuure. Helps you focus. What is it about Hook that rattled you?”
I glared at the Cracked Shark as we sailed closer, enough that baked orange rooftops and brightly painted houses came into view, the harbour surrounded by chimneys pumping out smoke and windows gleaming silver with sunlight reflected off the sea. Flat trawlers and messy fishing boats lined up alongside big, shiny ships bearing the king’s mark.
“Keep starboard,” Anton yelled, his racing footsteps reaching my ears. “We want the cove just beyond the city. And try, for the love of god, to avoid drawing attention. The last thing we want is to be seen.”
I glared at the annoying gnat, but Joanna spoke before I could.
“Oh,” she said brightly, innocently. “Are you the captain? Since you’re handing out orders to the woman at the helm…”
His nostrils flared. “Fine, draw attention, see what happens. What do I care?”
He threw his hands up and strode away before we could say anything else. Joanna and I glanced at each other for a long moment… and burst into laughter.
I had my sister back, I had a ship at my command, and we were approaching a cove full of gold.
Today was going to be a good day.