Page 80 of Escaping Pirates
I turned and saw Harlan and Peter…but no Gil.
“Where’s Gil?”
Peter swiveled, wide eyes scanning the scattered debris. “He was right here. He woke up and?—”
Droplets of water splashed over us as nearby, someone kicked, swimming furiously.
A head bobbed up several yards away—Gil. Her blonde hair was plastered to her face and her thin limbs stroked through the water. She wasn’t swimming toward us; she was swimming away.
She was headed toward Tyrone’s ship.
“Gil! What are you doing?” I called.
She didn’t answer.
Instead, she clawed her way up a floating barrel, used it to rest for a heartbeat, then launched herself toward the looming silhouette of Tyrone’s ship. The pirate vessel was beginning to pull away from Harsh’s burning wreck, its sails half-lowered in a rush. Several of Harsh’s crew were already climbing up the sides, ropes uncoiling in frantic slaps. Instead of pulling the gangplanks back aboard, they let them fall to the water in the rush.
“Go, go, go!” The last few men aboard theKraken’s Revengecut the lines on all the lifeboats, which hit the water with slapping, crashing noises that made my ears ring.
Gil reached a floating crate, climbed atop it, and pulled something up from where the hull met the water. It was a length of chain, heavy and blackened, and still attached to Harsh’s burning ship. She clutched it like a prize, eyeing the ship, then took a great gulp of air and disappeared as she swam under Tyrone’s retreating ship near the rudder.
“What’s he doing?” Harlan asked. “He’s going to get himself killed!”
It was true. Gil moved as if possessed, occasionally popping up for air before swimming back down again. There was a groan as theFortune Hunterbegan to slowly move away…and the burningKraken’s Revengefollowed at the same pace.
“Gil’s chaining the ships together,” I answered. “It won’t last long, but long enough to slow them down.”
Harlan let out a low chuckle. “Smart boy. Tyrone can’t escape that way.”
I nodded. “I think Gil intends to keep all the pirates here for Korth to find.”
“Korth?” Peter’s head whipped around. “Prince Korth of Haven Harbor?”
“He’s coming for us,” I told him. “We’ll be saved.”
“Not me,” Peter said, striking out for one of the lifeboats that had been cut from Harsh’s ship. “I’m out.”
“But…”
“If anyone asks, I drowned,” Peter said flatly, then grunted as he lifted himself into the boat, felt around for the oars, located them, and threw himself into rowing away into the inky darkness.
Harlan and I didn’t have time to argue. Behind us, a crack snapped through the air.
A burning mast tipped skyward then crashed into the water with a roar, barely missing us. Waves surged outward. I lost my grip for a second and tumbled under, arms flailing. Cold swallowed me whole. I kicked hard, breaking the surface with a gasp.
“Elena!” Harlan’s voice was hoarse. He was beside me again, grabbing my hand.
The burning mast drifted past, one end glowing like a demon’s eye. Its heat seared my cheek even from several feet away.
Harsh’s ship groaned, then split.
With a noise like the earth itself breaking open, the hull gave way. Fire devoured the last of it, and the last crewmen leapt for their lives, hitting the water in flurries of spray. Harsh himself emerged last, cursing as he shoved past another sailor and hurled himself onto a half-submerged dinghy.
Bells came, low, solemn tolls that cut through the crackling chaos. They reminded me of the bell tower back home, ringing in each hour, and I counted them eagerly. Salvation was near.
The clamor of the panicking pirates grew louder as they struggled to get their ship into motion, unaware that Gil had sabotaged it.
Barely visible in the darkness came five massive ships, growing larger with each passing minute. They moved like ghosts across the waves, hulls slick with sea mist and purpose, and from the mast of the front-most ship flew Haven Harbor’s flag.
