Chapter 8

The island of Barcola was primarily Nivalese. The inhabitants had managed to repel a mainland occupation a half-century prior by pulling the majority of their people into the mountains and fighting a brutal guerrilla war against the colonizing forces. In the narrow mountain passes, the mainlanders’ usual tactics of shielded firing lines and phalanx-style close combat were completely useless. The colonists tried to starve out the natives, but the lush tropical mountain provided everything the canny islanders needed to live. The fight was long and bloody. The Colonists brought in the Magistrate after the natives began resorting to burning ships and warehouses. The Magistrate’s forces were better trained and outfitted, but dedicated themselves to protecting the ports only. To their credit, they opted not to get involved in the conflict in the mountains. That meant the wealthier colonists had to foot the bill for mercenary forces. It was expensive. The Mainlanders did successfully settle the coasts of the island, but they never prospered. The natives made life so hard for the mainland settlers and so dangerous for trade ships that Barcola was simply bypassed as a trade port by most major shipping companies. The risks were just too great.

So economics did what guerilla warfare could not. The fight dwindled to occasional skirmishes. The settler population thinned. The Magistrate eventually withdrew its forces and left. When that happened, the more stubborn mainland settlers found that the natives were a fairly accepting and forgiving people. The two cultures eventually overlapped and blended as the islanders came down out of the mountains for the first time in two generations. Bad blood still existed, and the islander culture was irrevocably changed, but in the wake of the conflict the island prospered. Now, it was known as one of the richer trade ports for two hundred leagues. Their primary exports were sugar, molasses and rum, but they were also becoming well known for their colorful fabrics and dyes. When the mainlanders came, they brought weaving technology with them, which the natives embraced. With their bright colors and soft textures, Barcola textiles were becoming very popular.

Will and Lace didn’t get to experience any of it. Instead, they got a lesson on the history of the island from Jack. The three of them were in the galley again, washing dishes while the rest of the crew was on shore leave. Eventually Jack ran out of Barcola trivia. Through the small port window, they could hear hear the intricate, upbeat sounds of music. Kettle drums and intricate rhythms and the occasional whoop of some kind of flute kept them company as they scrubbed pots. It sounded like some kind of festival was happening nearby, which just salted the wound.

“Three days,” Will sighed. “Think the Captain planned this?”

“Of course,” Lace snorted. “Vex wants to make sure a punishment gets its point across. She’s never cruel, but she sure knows how to make you remember not to fuck up later.”

“I didn’t even think about how long it would take to get here, and how that would overlap with our extra duties,” Will shook his head. There was a part of him that was impressed with the Captain’s deviousness.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson then?” Jack asked Will archly.

“Definitely. Next time I want to set you up, I’ll be more subtle about it,” Will smiled sweetly.

“Good. So much time away from me clearly made you sloppy,” Jack said, snapping his back with the towel she was using to dry pans.

Will’s head snapped around as the wet towel stung his back. He gave her an unamused look. “I’m going to let you have that one, because you’re right. I am sloppier now. So are you.”

Jack arched an eyebrow. “Oh really? How so?”

“You believed me when I said I was going to let you have that one,” Will smiled. Jack’s expression had just enough time to switch to worry when Will snapped his hands out of the sink and sent a full stewpot full of sudsy water right at her.

It was sweltering again. The island port was even hotter than the open sea had been, and they were working much earlier now in hopes of finishing the job soon enough that they could get off the ship for a while. All three of them were soaked to the skin. Will had already taken his shirt off and hung it near the door. Lace was wearing her usual strip of cloth around her chest. Today it was green. Jack was having less trouble today. The previous day’s clothing experiment hadn’t gone nearly as well. Jack only had sturdy trousers and durable long sleeve shirts. After day one of having to twist and tie her shirt she’d decided she needed something better. Yesterday she’d tried a cook’s apron. It might have worked for someone build like Lace, but Jack had spent a lot of time trying to keep her breasts from coming out the sides. It became a running source of amusement for Lace and Will. Tonight, she’d opted for a halter made out of a sail patch. It was essentially a square of cloth folded over into a triangle and then tied around her ribs. Then she’d offset the two ends of the square that made up the triangle’s top point and tied them around her neck. It was functional and comfortable. It was also suddenly soaked mostly transparent.

Jack’s shocked, dripping expression sent Lace and Will both into peals of laughter. Jack slowly wiped the water off of her face with her now completely sopping towel and wrung it out onto the floor. “I will pay you back for that,” she said flatly. She began to blot herself slightly drier.

“Good. Both of us have clearly lost our edge,” Will smired.

“You two are crazy,” Lace snickered.

Jack looked down at herself, noticing exactly how little her sailcloth halter left to the imagination now. She side-eyed Will and turned around to continue drying herself. “Well played, Sterling.”

“You pull that stunt on me, I’ll skin you,” Lace said to Will. She sounded amused, but it was hard to tell how much she was joking. Will flicked her with sudsy water and grinned, then went back to washing. Lace glared, but it was clear she was trying not to laugh.

“This is bloody useless,” Jack muttered. A sopping towel hit Will in the back of the head. Heis face wrinkled in disgust and he pulled the cloth over his shoulder as it began to slide down his back.

“You volunteered for this,” Will shrugged.

“I volunteered to wash dishes, not be soaked to the skin and exposed to any observer who happens to walk in,” Jack said tersely.

“You want me to get you another sail patch” Lace asked. “I have a few of these that would probably fit you too.” She gestured to her own chest.

“No, it’s fine. We’re the only ones on the ship, it’s nothing Will hasn’t seen before, and I’m not concerned with your eyes wandering,” Jack shrugged.

“After your fight against the apron yesterday, there wasn’t much left to the imagination,” Lace smirked.

“Why have I been relegated to comedically exposing myself? How did you two escape this fate?” Jack asked, rolling her eyes.

“We’re both wearing less than you are?” Lace shrugged.

“Oh yes, that’s clearly the problem. I’m wearing too many clothes,” Jack deadpanned.

“I’m just sayin’, dousing us with water wouldn’t change much,” Lace gestured between herself and Will. “Hell, we were already pretty well soaked.”

“Will doesn’t have to worry about modesty,” Jack snorted. “And it seems you don’t either.”

“The hotter it is, the more uncomfortable modesty gets,” Lace shrugged.

“Ah. Your exhibitionism is merely pragmatic. I understand,” Jack said dryly.

“I don’t get a kick out of people watching me. I just don’t care. Let ‘em look. I dress for comfort, and to make climbing around all day easier. When it gets colder I’ll add more layers,” Lace worked as she talked, rinsing a large pot and handing it back to Jack.

“If it gets hotter will you wear even less?” Jack asked.

Lace grinned. “Maybe. You think I should?”

Will was idly looking out the porthole towards the sunset as the women bantered. The last sliver of the sun had just dipped below the horizon. The whole western sky was painted in deep oranges and reds. Now was the best time of day to look for silhouettes. It had become one of his shipboard habits. He spied a few boats and distant islands. Some seabirds. Then he blinked and squinted. “What the hell?”

He wrung his hands out and dried them as best he could on the wet towel. Then he left the galley without a word.

Lace and Jack looked at each other in surprise and confusion. “He’s a strange sort of fellow, ain’t he?” Lace asked.

“Sometimes,” Jack said looking at the doorway. She knew Will well enough to know he wasn’t upset and that they weren’t in danger.

“Think we should follow him? I’m kinda curious,” Lace asked.

“No, he’ll call or come down here if he needs us,” Jack shook her head. “He wouldn’t tell us what’s going on until he had a full idea himself anyway.”

“Not often you see a guy bolt from the room while ladies are talking about how little clothing to wear,” Lace scoffed.

“If the sounds from the Captain’s cabin last night are any indication, I don’t think Will is terribly sexually frustrated right now,” Jack shrugged, taking over Will’s spot and starting to wash again. She pulled a pot out of the water and propped it up on the ledge next to the sink.

“Here, let me show you how to do this right,” Lace said. “Keep it in the water until it’s clean. Go by feel. You don’t need to see the grit to scrub it. Then just pass it to me to rinse, I’ll give it back if you missed a spot.”

Jack put her pot back in the water. “Every once in a while I’m struck with how profound the gaps in my practical knowledge are.”

“I guess you never had to wash dishes?” Lace asked.

“Never. Not until I was an adult. I washed my first pot in a stream on my first expedition,” Jack said with a self-effacing shrug. “I find it embarrassing. Most of the time, I don’t even realize I don’t know something until I come face to face with it.”

“Isn’t that the case with everything people don’t know?” Lace asked.

“Well yes, but the things I don’t know seem to be things that everyone else does. The mundane things,” Jack explained.

“Like what?” Lace asked.

“Cooking. I’m terrible at it. I’m slowly learning, but the learning curve is ... distasteful,” Jack shook her head.

“How’s a high-born lady become an explorer anyway?” Lace asked.

“My grandfather was an explorer. His discoveries earned him his lands and title. My father followed in his footsteps. As a child I wanted to go with him. I wouldn’t take no for an answer, so he gave me a list of things I needed to know and be able to do before I could come. He expected that I would give up or lose interest, or that I’d be unable to master his list before adulthood,” Jack said, talking idly while she washed. “I finished the list by the time I was eleven. He tried to come up with more reasons to keep me from going with him, but I ... well I rather blackmailed him into keeping his word. After that I went with him everywhere until he retired. It’s my whole life now.”

“Doesn’t sound like a bad life,” Lace said thoughtfully.

“For the most part, it’s wonderful,” Jack agreed.

“So what’s all the angst and worry about? And all this curse stuff?” Lace pushed.

Jack sighed. “Things took a bad turn a few years go and I haven’t figured out how to set them right again. The last few days have been good. A step in the right direction. I still don’t know what to do though,” Jack shrugged.

“What’s your gut say?” Lace asked.

“What do you mean?” Jack’s brows furrowed.

“Cut out all the overthinking. Ignore the doubt and the worry. What do your instincts say?” Lace pushed.

“That’s the problem.” Jack sounded tired. “I’m torn. My instincts are pulling me in different directions.”

“Fight or run,” Lace said, sounding like she understood.

“Yes, precisely. But either choice means I might lose something very important to me,” Jack said “At least here, in the middle with no choice made, I might not have what I want but I can still see the important things and know they are safe.”

“You aren’t really talking about things, are you. You’re talking about people,” Lace felt like she was starting to see a bit more into who Jack was.

Jack nodded. “How do you choose when either choice will probably mean losing someone you love forever?”

“Seems like everyone you care about most is right here on this ship,” Lace shrugged. “That’s better than most sailors get.”

Jack sighed. “That’s what I’ve been telling myself. It hasn’t been that bad. Bella and Will both ... well they listened. I think it’s been so long that they just wanted any kind of explanation, even if it wasn’t a complete one. I don’t think that will tide them over forever. Especially Will. When it comes to needing to understand things, he’s as bad as I am.” She was scrubbing a pot like it had wronged her.

“Some things you just can’t expect to understand. No use in trying,” Lace shrugged. “Some things it’s perfectly fine not to know.”

“I don’t know if I agree with that,” Lace said. “I’m not sure Will would either.”

“Sure you do,” Lace shrugged. “What’s it like to be a cannibal? What’s murder feel like? What’s keelhauling feel like? How’s bilge water taste?”

“That’s a bit different.” Jack shook her head. “I think I understand those things well enough that I have no desire to know the firsthand details.”

“Right. You answer isn’t worth what you’d have to do to get it. The juice isn’t worth the squeeze,” Lace smiled. “You just need to get Will and Bella to think of ... whatever all this melodramatic bullshit is about ... in the same way.”

Jack stopped her angry, frustrated scrubbing. Lace kept working, letting Jack think. “Thank you.”

Lace chuckled to herself and rolled her eyes as Jack’s booted footsteps left the galley. “Mainlanders,” she sighed.

“I can’t believe you had the mirror hauled all the way down here!” Bella half-shouted over the noise.

“Look around!” Captain Vex said with sweep of her arm that only sloshed her cup a little.

They were in the corner section of an outdoor seating area at a dockside tavern. A parade of dancers and musicians painted to look like very colorful, festive skeletons made their way by. The street was wide, the seaward half made of wood and the landward side made of cobblestones. Lanterns hung from curved metal poles and hundreds of candles sat along the stones. They could see dozens of small makeshift altars, rings, effigies, and talismans. It was impossible to walk ten feet without running into a mystic huckster hawking their tiny miracles. Hedge witches, herbalists, medicine men, amature alchemists, fortune tellers, mediums, and spirit guides were out in force, every one of them promising magic for a small fee.

“If there ever was a place an’ time that ye’d be safe, it’s ‘ere and now,” Belita grinned. She had her boots up on the railing and a tin cup of rum in her hand. Her other arm was wrapped protectively around the dark-haired witch’s shoulders, much to the consternation of the red and white monkey that was forced to sit in Bella’s lap while her shoulders were occupied.

“I have to admit, I’m a bit uncomfortable as well,” Janie said from the other side of the mirror. It was propped up against the corner’s other railing, where the alleyway was rather than the main street.

“It was your idea!” Belita laughed.

“I was being rhetorical, I had no idea you’d take me seriously,” Janie sighed. She was dressed in her disguise as Sister Evangelina again, sitting quite close to the mirror on her side. The mirror was large enough that it was almost as though she was there with them. As close as she was, Janie had a much wider view of the surroundings on the other side. The mirror really did seem like a window, and she had to admit the parade and the music was quite fun.

“Are ye part of my crew or not?” Captain Vex shrugged, half-joking. “I can take ye back to the ship if ye don’t want tae do this.”

Janie sighed and shook her head. “Can I at least wrap up? It’s one thing to be on display in a brothel, it’s another to be on display in a street on an island I’ve never been to.”

“Pretty sure I’ve seen a dozen lasses with their tits out dancin’ past,” Belita grinned.

Bella snickered. “Of course you can wrap up, Janie. Our captain’s just a lecherous sailor.”

Captain Vex pulled Bella in closer and winked at Janie in the mirror. Janie’s brows shot up as she watched Belita slid her hand down Bella’s blouse and grope her breast. “Yar,” Belita grinned, sounding as much like a stereotypical pirate as she could manage.

Bella took a surprised breath as the Captain’s fingers brushed back and forth across her nipple. She swatted the hand like it was an annoying insect and let out an exasperated breath. “Not in public,” she said, not really sounding as firm as she was trying to. Belita took her hand out of Bella’s blouse, but left her hand resting gently on the witch’s breast. Bella gestured in ambiguous defeat and gave Janie a long-suffering look. Janie tried not to laugh. “Are you planning on holding the interviews while you molest me?” Bella asked. “Would that be a good first impression for new crew?”

“Considering it,” Belita said, still smiling.

A lanky, middle aged man with dark skin and a bright white grin leaned up against the railing, “You ladies look like you could use some company,” he said in a practiced, charming baritone. His eyes flicked between the witch and the captain, then down to where the captain’s hand was resting. His grin got a little wider.

Belita set her cup down on the table, drew a pistol and set it down next to the cup. The man’s expression lost all it’s mirth and he left without a word. The three women were silent for a moment, then erupted in laughter.

“Alright, ye made your point,” Belita said, moving her hand back to Bella’s shoulder.

“Jack!” Bella said, making a small clicking sound with her mouth. From the wooden awning above a small red and black furry face appeared hanging upside down. Bella gestured in the direction of their uninvited guest. She clicked with her mouth again. The monkey ran down the support post and along the road after the retreating man, who looked like he’d already set his sights on a new group of women.

“What was that?” Janie asked. She’d only been able to see a glimpse of the monkey through the mirror.

“Oh, I just thought that guy should buy us a drink for the trouble of interrupting us. I sent my little cutpurse after him,” Bella smiled.

Captain Vex laughed like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “Ye trained your monkey tae cut purses?”

“Why does everyone always seem so surprised at that?” Bella asked rhetorically.

Janie looked aghast. “All he did was come over to talk to you,” she said, trying to be admonishing.

“Uninvited. With clearly lecherous motivations,” Bella said, sounding anything but admonished.

“So you robbed him?” Janie shook her head.

“Time is valuable,” Bella shrugged. “Just because he didn’t know there was a toll doesn’t mean he doesn’t have to pay it.”

“That doesn’t seem right at all,” Janie shook her head.

“Nope, sure innae,” Captain Vex smirked. “Damn sure is funny though. The world would be a far sight different if’n every man who thought he could barge in on a group of women with a smile an’ a leer ended up havin’ tae drop some coin for th’ privilage.”

Janie couldn’t help but smile a bit at that. “I suppose that’s true.”

“Back tae business. Recruitment,” Captain Vex said, taking a drink.

“As much as I hate to say it, I think this part would be easier with a man present,” Bella sighed. “I don’t think the three of us are going to be taken seriously by prospective crewmembers.”

“Well that’s a dramatic turnaround,” Jaine said dryly.

“I’m a pragmatist,” Bella shrugged.

“Ye’re also wrong, luv.” The Captain picked up her cup again. “Anyone who dinnae take us seriously, we don’t want as crew anyways. It’s a self-correcting problem, an’ with Janie’s help we’ll know for sure.”

“What if we don’t find anyone?” Bella asked. She fed her familiar one of the sugared dates they’d bought off a street vendor on their way here. He took it greedily and ran up one of the posts that held up the railing and the awning above.

Captain Vex shrugged. “Then we’re short-handed a while longer an’ we try again at the next port.”

“Sounds like a long night,” Bella sighed.

“For Janie an’ m’self, aye. Ye can come an’ go as ye please. Ye don’t need tae be here for yer presence tae be made known. The mirror does that for ye,” Belita gestured with her cup again.

Bella hadn’t thought of that, but she found she didn’t like the idea of wandering around alone on an unfamiliar island teaming with drunk people, even if they did seem happy and accepting of the idea of witchcraft. Her paranoia was already making itself known in her head. She didn’t need to make it worse. “I’ll stay,” she said.

“Suit yerself,” Belita said. “One North or the other aught tae be along with our first round of prospects soon.”

“Will, I-” Jack found herself cut off by Will’s raised finger. He was squinting through a spyglass off in the direction of the bruised sky.

“Your eyes are better than mine,” he said after a moment. He sunk a bit lower so that the glass was at head height for Jack and then moved away from it, holding it carefully in the same place. “See that ship?”

Jack ducked under his arm and stood up until her eye was flush with the aperture. For a moment she was distracted by the fact that his arms were around her shoulders and they were close enough that she could feel the heat from his body. She abruptly decided that she did not want to think about that and focused on the task at hand. Against the horizon she could see the outline of a Caravel. It’s sails were up, and it was riding low in the water. The purples behind it were fading quickly. In another few minutes it would be invisible. “Yes, what am I looking for?”

“Rigging,” Will said.

Jack tried to focus on the ropes. At this distance they were very faint, nearly invisible. “I don’t know much about rigging, Will. What am I looking for?”

“Ladders. Like ours,” Will said.

Now that he said it, she could make them out. They looked like faint spiderwebs, black lines against purple. If he hadn’t said anything she’d have missed them. “I see them.”

“Are you sure?” Will asked. It was rare that he questioned her like that.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “I definitely see them.”

“I wanted to be sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. At this distance it’s hard to tell for sure,” Will said. He took the glass back for one last look and then collapsed it. “Too dark now for anything else, but that was the important thing. Thank you.”

“Why is it important?” Jack asked, looking up at the Kestrel’s own ladders.

“Because this kind of ship usually doesn’t have them,” Will said. “Not like ours, anyway. This is an extremely irregular rigging pattern.”

“And that ship has it too?” Jack asked. “That does seem coincidental.”

“It didn’t three days ago,” Will said. “It does now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I first saw that ship the day after we left Bastard’s Bay. I thought it was caught on a reef. Now it’s on our horizon again, and it looks like us.” Will sat down on the bench that ran along the back of the sterncastle. Jack followed and sat with him.

“I’m not sure I understand the significance,” Jack shook her head. She spent a lot of time on boats, but she wasn’t much of a sailor. The minutia was mostly lost on her.

“I don’t either,” Will shrugged. “It’s just ... strange. It gives me a bad feeling.”

“Alright,” Jack said with a glance back to the sunset. “What do you want to do about it?”

“Do you know of any ghost ship legends in this area?” Will asked.

“Not off the top of my head. We’re still in Magistrate waters. They might be difficult sometimes, but they do a very good job of driving off the more exotic threats.” Jack leaned back and looked up at the sky, thinking.

“I’m usually pretty up to date on those stories, and I haven’t heard of anything new,” Will said, half to himself.

“If it was a ghost ship, it was a remarkably clean and solid looking one,” Jack said. Will nodded his agreement.

“Might not be anything, and if it is there’s nothing we can do about it right now. We’ll just keep our eye on the horizon when we set sail again,” Will said purposefully relaxing. “What did you want to talk about?”

The moment distilled itself in Jack’s mind. The way they conferred and worked together. The way he trusted her when he needed a second opinion. The way they defaulted back to a functional partnership. The moment wrapped in his arms that had felt so ... easy The way they were now, next to each other, alone under the sky quietly contemplating the next challenge.

“Nothing,” she said. “It can wait.”

“I like your shirt,” Will smirked, still looking out over the water and not actually at her shirt at all.

She smiled. “I know.”

“How are ye finding ‘em so fast?” Belita asked Danica. Her First Mate was leaning on the other side of the rail with her back to the street. They’d just sent away the latest in a string of out-of-work sailors who were very excited at the prospect of taking a berth on the Kestrel. There were five more waiting inside, but they were taking a break while Janie slipped away to talk with Caine.

“Apparently there’s a lot of sailors looking for work right now,” Danica said after a pull on her mug. “A bunch of ships that were expected in the last month haven’t showed.”

“Pirates?” Belita asked.

“If it is, they’re slick. These are busy waters,” Danica said. “From what I’ve gathered it seems more like what you’d see if there was a blockade, but there isn’t one.”

“Anything we need tae worry about?” Belita asked.

“Could be. Hard to tell. There’s a bunch of theories, but nothing that rings true. It seems to be isolated to medium sized ships.” Danica drained her mug. The table was out of her reach, so she and handed it off to Bella.

“Like the Kestrel.” Captain Vex’s eyes hardened. “Tell your husband to fill out as much of the armory as he can tonight.”

“Aye, Captain. I know that’s on his list. I’ll have him bump it up in priority. Now I’m off to the next bar to find more sailors,” Danica said with a tip of her hat. The Captain gave her a nod and then Danica was lost in the crowd.

“Ye’re a diviner, right? Any way ye c’n find out what’s going on?” Captain Vex asked Bella.

Bella put another date on the table. Jack the monkey ran down to retrieve it and ran back up to his perch again. “I’m ... not that kind of diviner.” Bella said. “I’m not a clairvoyant. My magic is more about looking into possible futures, and trying to nudge things in the direction of something good,”

“Well, that’s better than nothing,” Belita said. “How do ye do it?”

“I’ve never done a reading on a ship before. I think it would work better if we did a reading on you,” Bella said.

“Ye’re talking about cards,” the Captain said, catching on. “That works.”

Bella began rooting through her large purse and came out with a velvet bag. She untied it, pulled a cloth out and spread it on the table, then took her cards out and set them on the cloth. “Shuffle them. On the cloth, please.”

Belita leaned in and gave the cards a few practiced shuffles. When she set the cards down, bella trapped her hand on top of them. “Now kiss me,” the witch said with a small smile. Belita grinned and leaned forward even more. Their lips met and Bella’s finger’s touched the Captain’s sternum.

Belita felt a tickle run through her and she pulled back, eyes wide. “What was tha’?”

“Just establishing a connection,” Bella said with a small smirk. “You’re going to draw five cards and put them on the cloth face down. Before each draw you’re going to cut the deck. After each draw you’re going to shuffle them. I’m going to help you visualize.”

“Is this going tae take long? We’re still in the middle of our interviews,” Belita asked, suddenly a bit skeptical about the complexity and time.

“Not long at all,” the witch shook her black curls. “This used to be my breadwinner. On a good night I could do five of these in an hour.”

Belita grinned. “Alright, witch. Do your worst.”

“First you need to clearly ask and visualize a question,” Bella said. “What is it you want to know.”

“What’s going on that’s making ships go missing and not reach port, and how do I avoid it?” Belita said.

Bella shook her head. “Too broad. Narrow it down.”

“What’s the best way to make it safely from here to Drifter’s Key?” Belita asked.

“Much better. Now, think of that question, and visualize the situation you are in right now. You, and your ship, here,” Bella said. “Then cut the deck and draw a card.”

Belita looked in the direction of the Kestrel and pictured her ship in her mind’s eye. She knew every inch of her, but when she imagined herself as well, it was always at the helm. She cut the deck and drew a card, setting it on the soft velvet. Then she picked the cards up and shuffled them again.