When she thought of those dozens of ships in the harbor, all with cannons, she understood why the navy didn’t come along to capture everyone.
Abe had left the captain talking with Rackham and the others. He passed through the room, greeting and shaking hands with people who seemed happy to see him.
“What are
they doing?” Jill asked Henry. “Why are we even here?”
“To find out what anyone knows about Blane. Without seeming like we are.”
Moments later, Captain Cooper left the side room and returned to the main bar; Abe spotted her movement and joined her. The captain was full of business.
“Rackham’s drunker than anything as usual, but Bonny says Blane’s on the island. Doesn’t know just where, of course. He raced ahead, got here before us. I count it as a stroke of luck. We’ll have to bribe everyone here not to run to the old steer and tell him we’re looking for him.”
“Already done, Captain,” Abe said, grinning.
“God, what a lot of rogues and thieves.” She shook her head, but her lips curled in a smile, as if she could think of nothing better than rogues and thieves. “Let’s go, all of you.”
“But I’ve not finished my mug,” Henry complained.
“Then drink fast,” said the captain. And Henry did, upending the mug and draining it all.
Jill just set her drink aside and followed the captain and company outside, wincing in the sudden bright sun. It was like stepping from one world to another, a dark world of conspiracy into one of light and sea air.
“Tadpole?” the captain said, with only a cursory look over her shoulder to make sure Jill was really there.
“Aye?” Jill said reflexively, before she’d realized she’d said it. The reply had become habit.
“I need to you to stay on the ship for the rest of our time here.”
“But—no, I can’t—”
“You’ll stay on the ship. Blane knows about that bit of rapier, Bonny says, like he can smell it on the air, and he may know about you as well. But he’ll not have either one of you. So you’ll stay on the ship.”
She didn’t want to stay on that ship a second longer. She had to find a way home, and the way home had to be here. Maybe if she went back to the stretch of beach where she’d picked up that stupid piece of sword in the first place. She couldn’t find a way home if she was on the ship.
Henry looked at her with interest, waiting for the next volley in the argument, but Jill didn’t have one. She was too angry to speak. Cooper kept insisting she was part of the crew, but really the captain only saw her as a way to get to Blane. A pawn in a rivalry that had nothing to do with her. Not even worth being crew.
But she wasn’t part of the crew. That was what Jill kept saying, that she wanted to get home, that she wasn’t one of them. She shouldn’t care what Cooper thought.
But she did, she discovered.
Jill marched along, feet pounding on the packed dirt road, not saying a word, biding her time. Making a plan.
BEAT
Captain Cooper sent Jill and Henry with a couple others of the crew to help row back to the Diana. The returning crew relieved the crew on watch, who took the rowboat back to shore, leaving Jill stuck on the ship.
Night had fallen, but the town of Nassau was still alive, lit by lanterns and torches, a glowing golden pool nestled by the harbor. Shouts, laughter, and songs from the taverns carried over the water, drunken pirates and merchant crews wandered the streets. A dog barked.
“What’s she going to do when she finds Blane?” Jill asked Henry.
Henry sat on the bowsprit, leaning back, legs dangling high over the water. Jill sat near him on the gunwale, looking over the town. Her hand tapped nervously.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “Run him through, I expect. She truly hates him.”
“Why? Because he marooned her?”
“Some folk say it’s because he broke her heart. They were once in love and he left her. In her fury she turned pirate and now roams the waves, vowing revenge.” He took on the exaggerated tones of a storyteller.