Page 4 of Of Magic and Rum
I swivel my hips at my crew, holding my arms out at my sides. “As long as he’ssorry, right, crew?”
Objections and more cursing roars from the pirates surrounding us.
I’m now standing toe-to-toe with Ham, towering over him with his nose hovering near my collarbone.
“I thought Calico Jack was supposed to be a merciful captain. Only reason I joined your damn crew,” Ham snivels.
Bending into his face, I whisper, “Iammerciful by comparison, but we here still abide by the code, you selfish ass.” Standing tall, I raise my voice for the whole ship to hear. “I could make you walk the plank, or maybe—” I yank the knife from my belt and hold the blade to one of Ham’s fingers. “I take a finger as a lasting reminder to keep your filthy paws where they belong.”
The color drains from Ham’s face, his arm tensing beneath my touch, but he doesn’t dare try to pull away. “P—please.”
Rolling my eyes, I shove his hand away. “You disgust me.” I sheath the blade and turn my back on him, beckoning Ragnar with a single finger.
“Thank you, Captain. Thank you,” Ham wails behind me.
Ragnar leans his ear toward my mouth. “Take a finger. Make him scream so the crew can hear, but make it on his non-dominant hand, will you? We still need the cunt able to aim a pistol.”
“Aye, Captain,” Ragnar says, cracking his knuckles, a glaze forming in his eyes as he brushes past me.
There’s no point in looking back. It’s not as if violence and bloodshed phase me in the slightest any longer, but to witness his punishment would give him far more clout than he’s worth. Ham’s cries of agony bounce off the sails, the cheers and whistles from the crew drowning away as I re-enter my cabin and shut the door behind me.
“What’s all this?” Duke, our sailing master and resident father figure within the crew, asks. He’s sitting in my chair with Truffles curled up in his lap. He pets my cat with one hand while dragging a finger along the routes I’ve traced on the nautical map for weeks.
Crossing the room in two strides, I grab the captain’s log, thick and bound in scuffed brown leather, and toss it in the middle of the map. It narrowly misses Duke’s finger.
His brown eyes quirk behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, and he reclines, running a hand over the gray beard that falls past his chest. “That secretive, hm, Jack? What are you doing trying to plot routes in the first place? You wouldn’t know your way out of a damn bathtub.”
“I can navigate fine, old man. But I had to give you a role on the ship, right?” I press a hip on the desk, propping my knee up.
Duke barks a laugh, his long silver hair with streaks of black shifting over his shoulder. “You keep telling yourself that, boy. But you wouldn’t last three days without me if you had to change directions more than once. The sea can be a treacherous bitch, my friend.”
My navigation skills may not have been the best, but I’d have no place calling myself a captain if I couldn’t find our way back home. I’ve let Duke hang this over my head since we first met years ago, and I’m not about to take it away from him now.
“Tell me about it. Why trouble yourself with a woman when the sea isalreadya handful, hm?” Smirking, I ruffle my traitorous cat’s head.
“What is this really, Jack? Looks like you’ve found several routes leading in the same direction, but they stop in the middle of the ocean. Not a scrap of land in sight.” Duke pushes the book aside and taps his finger to the map.
Staring absently at the spot he poked, I pinch the hair below my lower lip with two fingers. It’s because what I found isn’t on land butunderwater. “I’ve found a treasure, Duke. A jewel. Would make us all filthy, filthy rich.”
Truffles stands up, stretching, and decides to knead Duke’s portly rounded belly with his claws.
Duke grunts and bats the cat away, but Truffles ignores him and continues to prep his makeshift bed before settling into a ball atop Duke’s stomach. Duke sighs. “What’s the problem then? Sounds like some profitable gain.”
“It’s—” Frustrated, I shove away from the desk and rake a hand through my hair. “—it’s based on a myth, but?—”
“Jack,” Duke chastises, dragging out the “a” and flashing me a warning paternal glare.
Magic. Myth. The paranormal. All mysteries of the known world that most people couldn’t fathom and didn’t believe. But not me. I know with every fiber of my being, most, if not all, of it exists. Who are we to naïvely assume we’re the only beings or entities in the universe?
“I know this one exists, Duke.” The desk rattles as I slap my hands atop the mahogany. “I. Know. But the crew voted against me every time I brought up going on one of these voyages because as much as they believe in me, they don’t believe init.”
“I mean, can you blame them? That’s a lot of time and effort wasted for treasure existing in myth, Jack.” Duke strokes his beard.
“Not this time. I’ll have to present it differently. Convince them.” I stare into the distance, lost in thought.
Duke appears in my line of vision. “You meanlieto them?”
“You insult me.” I frown. “Never. I mean more along the lines of—withholding certain information until it needs to be known.”
