Chapter 25
“I’m boooored!” Fox hung upside down over the edge of Rowan’s bed, unbound hair brushing the floor as Rowan flicked shaving soap into a little dish on the mantel.
The Siren had been patrolling the shipping lanes north of Kadling Kay for at least a week—though Fox really hadn’t been keeping track—and absolutely nothing had happened.
They’d let ship after ship go by without stealing so much as a copper.
And still no sign of Splinter Zanta or the Monsoon.
Rowan ignored him, dragging the straight razor across his jaw, but Nephele chirred from her brass perch in the corner.
“That’s right!” Fox exclaimed as if the surly hawk had made his point for him. “Why are we just sitting here watching all that treasure sail past?”
Rowan finally glanced at him through the mirror, one eye tired blue and the other empty jade. “We’re waiting for Zanta,” he said matter-of-factly.
“But how long are we going to wait?” Fox drummed his heels on the mattress, fully aware he was acting like a spoiled toddler, and not giving a single fuck about it. It would do Rowan good to be annoyed at something other than Captain Demon these days.
“Till we find her!” Rowan snapped.
Oop, a little too much. Fox reeled in the brattiness a bit.
“Can’t we at least snag a prize while we’re out here?
” He let his arms fall to the floor beside his head, his spine popping rather loudly.
Sleeping in the same bed as restless Rowan had turned out to be a battlefield, and Fox had all sorts of kinks in his joints from contorting himself to avoid the occasional flailing limb.
It wasn’t the most restful sleep he’d ever gotten—certainly nothing compared to being snuggled up in Gael’s arms—but it was a lot better than sleeping by himself.
At least if he was getting elbowed in the liver, he knew he wasn’t alone.
Besides, Rowan had good reason to be stressed and snappish.
Fox had heard the fight between Rowan and the Demon back at the Teeth, and Rowan hadn’t worn his wedding ring since.
The two had met up before Kadling Kay, but the Demon had left that encounter with blood running down his shirt and Rowan had sported suspiciously finger-shaped bruises on his neck for a few days after.
The whole crew was tiptoeing around the topic, whispering when neither Logan nor Rowan were around.
They were all used to the harebrained schemes Rowan cooked up, but those usually ended with plunder and full bellies.
Moreover, the crew loved Rowan, and worried about him.
There had been talk that this fight between the two captains would result in all of them getting kicked off Illusion and worse, making an enemy of the Deep Water Demon.
Fox had told Rowan all of this of course. Whispered it in the dark after they climbed into bed. Rowan had pinched his cheek and told him not to worry, but that was becoming more and more difficult the longer this went on.
“If we snag a prize while we’re out here, we might miss the Monsoon,” Rowan said.
Fox was having an uncharacteristically hard time reading whether Rowan was so determined to warn Zanta because of their friendship, his need to defeat Shaw, or his stubbornness in doing the exact opposite of whatever Captain Demon wanted him to do.
“Well the Kraken could—”
“We are not relying on the Kraken!” Rowan growled.
They hadn’t seen the warship since Kadling Kay anyway.
It was possible the Demon had gotten bored of playing chase with his husband and gone back to pirating.
And that was another thing: this situation with Shaw and Zanta could go on for weeks, months, maybe into next season, and if they didn’t take any prizes, how were they supposed to eat?
Appalling, that it had come down to Fox of all people to point out the economic unviability of a plan, but needs must.
The door banging open saved him from having to point this out.
“We’ve got a problem, Captain!” Henri said, slightly out of breath.
He barely acknowledged Fox’s presence, even though he was half clothed, and not the half Henri would’ve preferred either.
It was common knowledge among the crew—another thing to gossip about—that Fox was spending an awful lot of time in the captain’s quarters these days.
Henri, of course, knew the real reason for it, and had other things on his mind.
Rowan sighed and mumbled something about not being able to get a good shave in, while wiping the last of the soap off his chin.
Fox himself hadn’t shaved in several days and had been relieving his boredom by rubbing his scratchy cheeks on his friends’ faces like a scruffy cat.
Most of them had been largely unperturbed, but David had given him a look that could’ve peeled tar off the hull when he did it to Robin.
“What is it?” Rowan asked.
Maybe the Kraken was back. Maybe they’d spotted the Monsoon and they would be back to pirating in no time. But Henri said, “Spotted a ship not far off. We thought it would pass us by like the others but it’s heading right for us.”
Rowan’s attention sharpened. “Any idea who it is?”
Fox remained upside down as Rowan buckled on his leather pauldron and weapons.
“It’s got lots of guns but no military insignia. Logan thinks he recognizes it from the docks at Kadling Kay.”
“Shit, maybe Shaw found us first.” Rowan stepped over the threshold and turned back to Fox. “Well? You were bored; get a move on.”
“Aye, Captain.” Fox saluted upside down and somersaulted onto the floor, righting himself in time to see Rowan roll his eye, a slight smile tugging the corner of his lips.
By the time Fox sprinted out onto deck, still buckling on his sword belt, the other ship was within range.
He squinted at it, a three-masted galleon like the Siren, though a bit bigger by Fox’s estimate.
She flew no flags, not even a hailing signal, yet she was heading straight toward them at speed.
This would be an attack then. Fox’s stomach tightened with anticipation.
They hadn’t had a proper fight since the Sweet Lettie, and that had been hideously short.
Despite the playful nature of his complaints to Rowan, without someone to fight, or Gael to fuck, Fox really was bored out of his mind.
This resolved one problem at least. Fox bounded up the stairs to where Rowan and Logan presided on the quarterdeck and bounced on the balls of his feet, unable to contain his excitement.
“Please tell me we get to fight ’em!”
Logan looked up from switching out his wooden hand for the steel hook he kept on his belt. “Well, they’re not friendly, we know that much.”
The Siren hadn’t moved, but all stood in readiness, from the tops of the masts to the cannons below deck, waiting for the enemy to come to them.
Rowan lowered the spyglass from his eye. “Definitely former Kefryean. It’s called the Marigold. I don’t see Shaw though.”
“Would you even recognize him? It’s been nine years; spite will have aged him.” Logan finished tightening the hook’s straps around his wrist.
“I’d recognize him.” Rowan grimaced, scars puckering his cheek.
Of course he would. Shaw was Rowan’s first love, and first heartbreak.
The betrayer who’d cost Rowan the lives of half his original crew.
The reason Rowan had still been looking for crew members when he stumbled on Fox getting the crap beat out of him in the back streets of Wave Harbor.
Fox had been thinking about that night a lot lately.
He’d probably be dead if Rowan hadn’t shoved a gun in the attacker’s face.
But what would’ve happened if Rowan had accepted Fox’s ill-advised advances that night?
Would Fox still be a part of this crew today, or would he have moved on? Would he ever have reunited with Gael?
The boom of a cannon startled Fox from his thought spiral, quickly followed by a sharp blast from Rowan’s whistle.
The signal to fire. He looked almost as giddy as Fox felt for some action.
The Siren rocked under them as they returned fire, and Rowan piped several more orders to get the Siren under sail.
The sails unfurled with a snap, and Fox inhaled the gunpowder-scented air.
The Siren swooped closer to the Marigold, and unloaded a volley of cannon fire into her side. Fox dashed for the stairs, eager to get in on the action, only to be waylaid by Logan’s hook snagging his belt loop.
“Hey!” Fox yelped.
Logan reeled him back, placing a hand on top of Fox’s head to keep his attention.
Fox nuzzled into it like a pampered cat, and Logan rolled his eyes.
Fox really had to get a hold of himself.
He was becoming so touch-starved in just a few short weeks without Gael that any touch was almost overwhelming.
Logan turned Fox’s head, redirected his focus to Rowan issuing orders on the other side of the deck, a manic glint in his eye.
“Stick to him like glue.” Logan’s voice was quiet, serious, and some of Fox’s giddiness dampened beneath it.
“You don’t have to tell me.” Fox pouted.
Rowan had always been a whirlwind fighter, a natural chaos, but after losing his eye and subsequently half his vision, he’d become more like a rogue typhoon.
A bit unbalanced, but just as chaotic. Logan had tasked Fox and Gael to guard his blind side.
Now it seemed that task fell solely on Fox.
Logan raised an eyebrow. The two ships were close now, a constant barrage of cannon fire thundering between them, either missing altogether or not doing a great deal of damage. It was clear both captains intended to board the other, and this fight would come down to hand-to-hand combat.
“He’s a bit off these days,” Logan gritted out. “You’ve noticed.”
Fox nodded. “It’s the fight with the Demon.”
“Not much we can do about that. So don’t let him do anything too rash. At least not more than usual.”