Page 112 of Vengeance of the Pirate Queen

I grit my teeth. This is going to sting.

I place the belt over my injury, effectively covering the entrance and exit wounds, and cinch it tight.

A horrible sound escapes my lips, and I nearly black out as I fasten the buckle. I lie still on the floor, waiting for the pain to become bearable, but that doesn’t happen.

Nothing for it but to fight through it, then.

Getting to my feet takes an age, but once I do so, things get a bit easier. I’m not sure if I finally grow accustomed to the pain or if the belt is holding it in or something else altogether, but I’m able to gather my weapons, clean them off, and leave the room. Slowly.

What I find above deck is heartening.

My crew.

They fight off the measly remains of the Drifta aboard the vessel. It doesn’t take long at all, and it ends with the last two of the enemy surrendering. They drop their weapons and raise their hands into the air.

Kearan and Enwen dump them over the side of the ship.

They’ll probably make it, if they can get to a fire soon.

“Captain,” Dimella says by way of greeting when she sees me.

“Get us going,” I order.

“Aye-aye!” She barks out orders to the crew, and they get to it with an enthusiasm I’ve yet to see from the crew of theWanderer, including Captain Warran, who takes it upon himself to go to the helm.

Kearan steps up to me, eyes me. The belt must be doing a good job, because he doesn’t find anything to point out. “How did it go?”

“Swimmingly.”

“You’re covered in blood.”

I worry he’s noticed the injury, until I realize of course I’m covered in blood. Drifta blood. “Makes me look more fierce.”

“It makes you look a great many things.”

His tone is flirty, and I can’t even fathom what I’m supposed to infer from his words. I say, “Get your arse to the helm. I don’t trust Warran with it.”

“Now you’re thinking about my arse?” he asks.

“I’m thinking about where I could stick my blades if you don’t get moving.”

He gives me my favorite grin, the one that says he knows he’s trouble, before heading up to the aftercastle. I would follow, but I don’t think I can manage more stairs right now. It’s taking everything I have just to act as though everything is fine.

As if I won’t die today.

Iskirra’s a fine healer, but I’m not so foolish as to think that blade didn’t hit something vital as it went clean through my stomach. I can spend the day having her fuss over me or I can captain this crew.

I choose the latter.

The lines keeping us close to shore are cut, the anchor is raised the rest of the way, and a steady breeze takes us away from land. Away from these cursed shores.

We haven’t gone far at all when a clamor steals our attention back on land.

Dozens of people race toward the boat. They clear the tree line, waving their arms in our direction. Screaming at the top of their lungs.

“Help!”

“Wait!”

---