The Devil's Tide (10 page)

"How old was your woman?" Calloway asked.

He started to answer, and then he realized with a shock that he had no idea. "You know, I'm not sure we ever discussed it."

She angled scornful eyes his way. "You don't know how old your one true love is, Nathan?"

"It never came up," he replied defensively, warmth filling his cheeks. "We had other things on our mind."

"Like as much frolicking as there are hours in the day?"

"Exactly," he said, nudging her with his stump without thinking. As usual, he had forgotten. To her credit, she didn't flinch.

"I think you've mistaken lust for love," she stated flatly.

He gaped at her audacity, unable to form a retort.

"I've seen it many times," she went on. "If I had a piece of eight for every pirate that thought himself in love with me, I'd be rich before I reached adulthood. They all say the same thing, especially the young ones having their first go. They've coin to spend and they set eyes on the prettiest whore they can find—"

"That would be you?"

"—and not surprisingly they fall in love. And yes, I was quite pretty before I cut my hair. I fancy my hips and my legs and my arse, and I think I have a fetching stomach that curves inward rather than outward like most women." She was droning on now, lost in herself. "My breasts are dreadfully small, though. I can't do much about those."

Nathan swallowed, glancing downward. "Hard to gauge beneath a dowdy shirt."

"Well, I do have breasts, of course. Small, but noticeable enough in shapelier garments. The shirt serves its purpose, except where meddlesome pirates with nothing but time on their hands are concerned." She smiled shrewdly at him.

"That last bit was about me, wasn’t it?"

"I'm afraid so," she solemnly nodded.

He had trouble not staring at her. She was so young, with her entire life ahead of her. "You know," he said cautiously, "the sea is a very dangerous place."

"Oh dear," she said, feigning fear.

"You jest, but this is a dangerous mission."

She sighed. "You think he hasn't told me that time and time again?"

"People may die."

Her eyes flashed with genuine excitement. "Really? Do you think so?"

He frowned. "Well, yes."

She gripped his sleeve. "Have you seen a man killed by a sword?"

He raised an eyebrow, leaning away from her. "Many times."

"Is it true that blood gushes all over the place when the blade is pulled out?" She was grinning now.

"Well, it depends on the—"

She glanced past Nathan, and her eyes widened. "Shuttup! He's coming."

Nathan looked over his shoulder and saw Guy Dillahunt approaching, scanning the ship for anything out of place. His hand rested atop the hilt of his shiny rapier, poised to draw it at any moment. His gaze settled briefly on Calloway as he approached.

"Captain Dillahunt," Nathan greeted with a nod.

Dillahunt seized Nathan by the good arm and turned him starboard, pointing to a cannon across the ship. "Do you see that cannon?"

"Yes, captain, it's difficult to miss."

He heard Calloway stifle a giggle.

"Does it look properly lined to you?"

"It looks a cannon like any other, captain."

Dillahunt looked at him expectantly. "Is it not misaligned in relation to the others?"

Nathan took another look. All the cannons seemed perfectly lined. "It appears straight to me."

"Very well," Dillahunt said, releasing him. He straightened Nathan's sleeve where his grip had ruffled it. "I've made a mess of your shirt."

"It's fine."

Dillahunt shifted his chin to the horizon. "We should be within sight of Griffith's island in three days, if it truly exists."

"It exists," Nathan assured him.

"No offense intended. Pirates are naturally inclined to devious plots, and you are a pirate, last I looked."

"I'm a guide," Nathan reminded him. "Nothing more."

"You'd claim yourself a furry little ferret if it helped you elude the gallows. I've had dealings with pirates all my life. In fact, I can't seem to crew a ship without them. If you want the truth, I'm not certain any man here has earned my trust, apart from my loyal first mate. Governor Rogers believes he can make honest sailors of pirates. I told Rogers the line between privateer and pirate is a thin one, drawn in sand, easily swept away by a strong tide. He wrote off my words as 'overly dramatic' at the time, yet now he sends me to catch Benjamin Hornigold. Can't blame me for keeping my . . . guard . . . up . . . " Dillahunt's gaze trailed away with his sentence. "Are you absolutely certain that cannon is not out of place?"

Nathan did not look again. "It may be a notch off."

Relief washed over Dillahunt's face. "I suspected as much."

"Should I adjust it, captain?"

"No. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't the only one who saw it. Carry on." Dillahunt took his leave, glancing fretfully at the cannon as he walked toward his cabin.

"Queer man," Nathan muttered.

Calloway sighed. "He woke up out of sorts this morning. I suppose I must attend to him, if you take my meaning." She favored Nathan with a little smile before adjusting her hat and starting after Dillahunt. She cleared her throat and stiffened her poise, and she was all boy again. As always, none of the other men seemed to know she existed.

Nathan returned his attention to the sea. Only one dolphin remained, leaping out of the water with that perpetual grin they all carried, oblivious to its absent kin. Nathan couldn't spot any other dolphins in the water, no matter how far he looked. He prayed this one wouldn't be permanently separated from the group, forever indemnifying a moment of glee.

The ship was an indistinct blur beneath the surface, resting in a relatively shallow grave just off the eastern beach. Kate peered over the edge as Dumaka and Andrew Harrow rowed the little boat around a charred mainmast, which was the only part of the ship that remained above water. If not for the mast, they might have mistaken the sunken ship for the carcass of some great whale that had come here to die.

"Cunningham's ship?" Hornigold asked Kate. "
Abettor
?"

"Yes," she replied gravely.

"I met the man only once," he said. "I liked him instantly. He was a true pirate, but he abstained from murder."

"The same can't be said for Griffith," Kate replied. "When Cunningham figured out who I was, Griffith killed him."

"And everyone aboard?"

She nodded. "Collateral."

The island was greener and larger than Kate remembered, with a dense jungle circumventing a treacherously steep grey summit that must have been volcanic. The peak was surrounded by haze. It had only been a few hours since dawn, and a morning fog was rolling down the mountainside, collecting in the many nooks and outcroppings. The jungle wrapped around the base of the mountain in a thick ring, sloping down to the beach. The trees were tall and dense, with only a few openings large enough for a person to stroll through. Dread crept into the pit of Kate's stomach as she stared into the largest opening just beyond the eastern beach. Jack Cunningham went in there willingly, and he never came out.

Just then, something skittered in the darkness. Kate tightened her grip on the rail of the boat, fingernails digging into the wood. She glimpsed a splash of color, a flutter of crimson. Her heart thumped in her chest, and the hairs prickled along the back of her neck. She seized Hornigold's wrist. "Do you see that?"

"See what?"

Another flash of red. Blood? What on earth was happening in there? "There!" she hissed, pointing.

Hornigold squinted. He opened his mouth to speak . . . and then froze. "What in the bloody hell is that?"

More flashes of red. Something was rustling within. And then a terrible shriek. It sounded like . . .

A parrot burst from the opening, wings brushing against leaves as it escaped some unseen predator in a panic. It squawked frantically, ascending above the tree line, and then arcing back toward the mountain. It disappeared into one of the crevices far above.

Kate released Hornigold's arm. He massaged his wrist where her fingernails had left pink gouges. "Sorry," she said.

"It's fine," he said, clearing his throat.

It was not long before the boat's keel slid onto the white beach. Dumaka, Harrow, and Hornigold leapt out quickly, feet splashing in the water. Hornigold offered Kate his hand. She was reluctant to get off, despite the sun already beating down on her back from its low position on the eastern horizon. It was going to be a hot day, and the shade would be a welcome respite, but that would mean taking shelter near the jungle. There were a few coconut trees scattered randomly about, but their shadows wavered in the breeze, and they were not closely packed enough to offer much of a canopy.

Hornigold stared at her, his hand hanging in the air, palm facing up. "Something wrong?"

"No," Kate replied. She took his hand and crossed her legs over the rail, sinking her bare feet into the soft sand. A little wave splashed the back of her legs, and she wobbled slightly. Hornigold's grip tightened. Kate felt his other hand on the small of her back, steadying her. She jerked away. "I can walk, thank you."

Frustration flashed across his face, but he quickly blinked it away. He looked to Dumaka, who he had appointed quartermaster shortly after the death of Reed, without the consent of the crew. "We'll set up camp here and send several two-to-three man groups into the jungle. According to Mrs. Lindsay, there are thirteen chests. She doesn't know the exact location of each chest, but this island is only so large. A thorough search and keen eyes will yield our fortune. It will probably take us a week or more, but we are well rationed and Governor Rogers has no idea where we've gone."

Kate swallowed. She thought of Nathan Adams, the young pirate who had called her friend, yet wasted little time in attempting to turn her in for the reward her husband's family had offered. Nathan was surely dead by now, but there was a slim chance Rogers had thought to interrogate him about Kate after she had corrupted his precious Benjamin Hornigold. Even if Rogers was as smart as everyone claimed, she doubted Nathan knew how to get back to this island. Griffith kept the charts in his cabin.

She smirked at the silly thought, pushing it aside.

Dumaka took the boat back to
Ranger
, which was moored in the distance. Another boat passed him on its way to the beach, carrying more crew. The two boats ferried back and forth until half of the crew had been transported to the island.

Kate strolled along the beach, warily skirting the jungle. She found a long green iguana and chased after it until it retreated into the trees, well out of her reach. Birds and bugs formed a symphonic ambience from within the jungle. She squinted, trying to discern details between two trees, but it was black as pitch in there. She took a few steps back, not wanting to put her rear to the trees for fear that something would leap out when she wasn't looking and drag her into the darkness, never to be seen again.

When she turned, she was shocked at how far she'd walked. Her footsteps trailed off in a long, fading bend. Hornigold and the others were far down the beach. If she'd walked any further, they would have been out of view entirely, beyond the curved perimeter of the trees. She started back, veering into the water so she could soak her hot heels.

By the time she got back, the pirates were already setting up camp. The sun was in the middle of the sky, searing the crown of her head. She bent down and splashed water into her hair. Bastion approached, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a black piece of cloth. "You need it more than me," he said, offering it to her. "For the head."

"You sure?" she said, squinting up at him.

"It look better on you anyway," he said.

A charmer,
she thought.
Naturally he'll want something in return. They always do.
Knowing that didn't stop her from taking the bandana. She fastened it over the top of her head, tying a knot in the back, with her hair spilling out the sides. She made certain her mutilated ear remained concealed. "I must look quite the pirate," she quipped.

"I don't know what a pirate look like," Bastion shrugged. He awkwardly pivoted on his heels and shuffled off before she could ask him what he meant by that. Bastion was very shy, but Kate suspected there was much more going on beneath the surface. He would quite often sit and stare pensively at his peers, studying their every gesture. Kate tried to talk to him a few times, but the conversation always ended abruptly, as Bastion would suddenly seem to remember his duties and hurry off. She suspected he wasn't comfortable around women.

The pirates finished making camp by midafternoon. Kate helped Avery and Billie Dowling unpack several tents and hammocks. She exchanged a few words with Billie, while Avery silently scowled. She knew Avery didn't care for her and cared even less for her fraternizing with his younger brother. Billie was not the smartest lad in the Caribbean, and Avery was understandably protective of him. Kate respected Avery's position, but Billie was far too friendly to ignore.

When there was nothing more to do, Kate found a nice perch on a long rock formation that jutted over the tide. She leaned back and put her arms behind her head, casually bending one knee while stretching the other leg across the rock. A cool breeze caressed her as the sun drew nearer the horizon. The sapphire sky gradually gave to purple hues. Kate caught a few pirates stealing glances at her, but she didn't care. She fell asleep once or twice with no dreams to disturb her, just the gentle swish of the tide on either side of the long rock formation. She would tilt her head and watch the pirates from time to time.

Bastion and his newest friend, Keith, were gathering coconuts. Keith was a lanky, badly sunburned young man with stringy red hair and a maze of freckles. He wasted no time hacking a coconut in half with his rusty cutlass and slurping whatever juices hadn't been lost to the sand from his sloppy effort. Bastion was far more experienced, slicing a clean wedge in his coconut and allowing no juice to spill over the side.