“Perhaps I can get two or three songs a year out of you, too,” he said quietly.

Ace’s eyes shone, and she nodded. “Aye, you can.”

“Fucking goddamn Theo and your goddamn theatrics!” bellowed Thomas. A boot flew across the deck toward Theo’s head, and he ducked, causing the boot to fly past him and hit Amir in the jaw. Amir yelped dramatically and picked up the boot, throwing it back at Thomas and hitting Declan just beside him.

Ace held her hand exasperatedly over her face. “I’d better make sure Thomas is going to get through the night,” she said. “Goodnight, Zander.”

“Goodnight, Ace.”

Once, he was a raven.

He lived in the woods near the sea, and he flew above the shoreline each day gazing at the great water beyond. He knew the fish that swam there, and the people that came to catch them. He knew the gulls and the crabs, the seals and the starfish. But one day, he found something new.

The sun reflected off her scales as she cut through the water, so quickly he almost mistook the glimmer for a discarded piece of glass. Turning, he followed the phantom reflection. Gliding high above, he mimicked her sudden twists and turns, playing in the breeze as she did in the waves, until she came to a secluded pool.

He descended to get a clearer view as she lounged in the pool, half in, half out of the water. Her torso was roughly that of a human, albeit differently colored, and its lower half extended into a long, fish-like tail, its scales various shades of green and blue. As she lounged in the pool, the end of her tail occasionally whipped upward, sending water cascading in an arc that reflected the colors of the rainbow.

Moving closer, he let out a tentative noise to alert this new creature to his presence. Upon noticing him, she made a noise of her own that he guessed was some sort of language. He responded, and the two went on like that for some time, each speaking without understanding the other. It was a pleasant conversation, nonetheless, until she retreated into the water and swam away.

The next day, he flew to the pool again to see his new friend. He carried with him a trinket he’d found, discarded on the beach by careless humans. It was white like a pearl, and round like one, but flat. It contained two small holes and a ridge around the outer edge. He quite liked it, and was confident his new friend would, too.

As he’d hoped, he found her lounging in the pool. He approached, guessing the noise she made upon seeing him was one of greeting, and placed the trinket just on the edge of the water. She opened her mouth, baring sharp teeth in a gesture he recognized from humans as one of pleasure, and threaded the trinket into her hair.

The next day, she brought him a seashell. He carried it home, careful to keep from cracking it, and placed it amidst his treasures.

And so the two went on like this, bringing each other gifts, conversing in languages neither could understand, and playing upon the waves of air and water that made each of their homes in a synchronized dance, until the waves no longer brought her to his shore.

5

Five days later, early in the morning, they made port in Bermuda. Zander found himself getting excited for the long journey to Portugal. The eight days they spent sailing to Bermuda was the longest they’d been on open water so far, and rather than inducing soul-shaking terror like Zander anticipated, it was rather invigorating. He’d spent nearly his whole journey from England to Barbados hiding in his room, questioning every life choice he’d ever made. In contrast, this journey was quite pleasant despite the breakneck pace, mainly because he spent so much of it by Ace’s side.

The port they docked in was familiar to both Ace and the crew, all of whom had made the journey before. Apparently, the journey was a semi-annual event.

After docking, Ace gave the sailors their instructions—Theo and Yarrow were to visit a man named Robert, from whom Zander ascertained they often bought supplies such as ammunition, nails, and lead sounding weight. Sean and Santiago accompanied George to find food and spices for the galley.

Jurgen, Raphael, Bagu, and Saila were tasked with trading watch. “I want two of the four of you on board at all times, got it?” Ace told them. “If you’re going to get drunk, give yourself enough time to sober up before you come back and begin keeping watch or I’ll have your hide.”

The four sailors nodded and formed a huddle, presumably to determine who got to leave first.

“The rest of you, we leave at dawn,” she shouted across the crowded deck. “Don’t have too much fun. I don’t want any of you vomiting on my deck tomorrow morning.”

With Ace’s final orders given, the sloop cleared out quickly. Zander hung behind, watching Ace as she walked swiftly to her quarters and closed the door. There were at least six hammocks in the crew’s quarters he’d noticed had small tears or holes forming. Jurgen’s hammock, which was barely large enough to accommodate his stature, looked as if it was going to give out completely. He figured he’d repair a few while the men were out and do a bit of exploring later on.

Ace’s door opened again a few moments later. She’d tied her hair back with a long strip of red material, the same kind that occasionally fastened her curls with beads or feathers. Her ivory-handled blade hung at one hip like always. A lantern that normally hung in her quarters was strapped to the other, along with a length of rope.

“Zander,” she said. “Come with me. There’s something I want to show you.”

Zander stopped. Something about the lilt of her voice held a promise—a promise that her eyes, dark and mischievous as they beheld him, promised she would keep.

The hammocks could wait.

Zander followed Ace through the jungle, walking just behind her as she made a steady path through the trees. As he watched her, he couldn’t help but think about the first time he met Ace.

It was in another jungle, similar to this one, and he’d followed her then, too. Ace had just cut off a local shopkeeper’s finger after he’d grabbed her without permission. His family—who were just out back playing cards—didn’t take kindly to Ace’s form of justice, and she ended up running for her life into the trees, where she found Zander.

He then had the magnificent luck of being mistaken for her accomplice, and she pulled him behind her into the jungle, fleeing the mob of affronted family members. She was wearing the same red vest and white shirt that day, but her hair had fallen freely over her shoulders. It flew behind her as she ran. The sounds of leaves and sticks whipping past Zander’s ears were only overpowered by the sounds of his panting as he struggled to keep up with her.

Now, her footsteps were measured and sure, and he could hear the steady rhythm of her breathing as they walked together in silence.

Zander wondered if Ace was thinking of that day as well. If the spontaneous kiss they shared on the beach before she left played in her mind on repeat like it did for him.

She was, and it did.

In fact, Ace had been thinking very seriously about Zander for quite some time. But beyond finding excuses to keep him close, to talk to him, to see his wide, open smile gazing back at her each day, she hadn’t dared to act on her feelings.

For there was one part of Ace—a part forged solely in the fires of this life, its sharp edges hewn by pain and heartache—that didn’t believe she could trust Zander, or any man who showed interest in her for that matter. But there was another part of her—one hewn into the very foundations of her soul—that knew him, longed for him, trusted him implicitly. It was this part of Ace that led Zander into the jungle, seeking a place to be alone once more.

For it had been weeks since she decided that if she ever were to trust a man again, it would be this one. But matters of the heart are difficult to resolve when one is surrounded by a band of pirates.

When Ace stopped walking and turned to look at him, Zander almost ran into her. She was staring at him with a strange expression, like she was anticipating something. Zander smiled at her closeness and then looked around.

“Are you scared of small spaces?” she asked.

Zander considered this. He’d been crammed into many small spaces as one of eight children in a small house, and though he couldn’t say they were his favorite thing, he’d follow this woman into the mouth of a volcano if she asked him to.

“No. I’m not.”

“Good. I’m going to need you to trust me. It’ll be quite dark at first.”

Ace smiled as Zander’s brow furrowed in confusion. Wordlessly, she walked to a small, rocky outcrop at the edge of the clearing they stood in and climbed over one of the boulders. She lowered herself on the other side. Then she disappeared.

Zander’s confusion lasted only moments before he heard Ace’s voice, as if from far away.

“Come on, Chicken Leg.”

Zander scrambled up the boulder and looked down the other side to see the ground open into a narrow, black hole. The rope Ace brought, which was tied like a lasso, was wrapped around a jagged stone that jutted upward from the ground. Its length disappeared into the darkness. Ace was nowhere to be seen.

A trill of laughter floated up from the opening. Zander couldn’t see her, but Ace had a comically clear view of Zander’s confusion as his face hovered a few feet over the opening.

“Your turn,” Ace said, her voice lined with laughter. “Do exactly as I tell you, okay?”

Zander climbed over the boulder and lowered himself, his feet positioned gingerly on either side of the opening. “Okay,” he said.

“There’s a small step just inside the opening,” Ace said. “Lower your feet to that point.”

Bracing his hands on the ground, Zander lowered his feet one at a time to find the step.