Ace sighed again. “It’s not awkwardness I’m afraid of. Nor is it loss of respect. God knows the crew don’t try to hide their escapades, on board or off. But I don’t want them to see me as inconstant. Nor you as nothing but a kiss-ass.”

Ace brought herself up to rest on her elbow, looking down at him. He turned his body so he was facing her.

“This is… special,” she admitted. “I want to savor it. I don’t want the crew thinking it’s something less than it is. Something crass.”

Zander smiled, trailing his hand down her hip.

“Then I will just have to find ways to kiss your ass in private,” he said, and playfully slapped at her rear.

They dressed only when the growling of their stomachs echoed off the cave walls and their toes began to numb from the cold. When they made their way back into the space they initially dropped into, Zander was surprised to find it wasn’t a small space at all. In fact, there was plenty of room to walk around.

He smiled to himself, thinking of Ace’s hands on his hips earlier. What good luck he had, to have fallen in love with such a sly pirate.

***

Three days later, Zander was thinking of his time in the cave with Ace as he took evening watch. The water was still, reflecting the light of the full moon and the thick blanket of stars like a mirror. The only sound was the gentle lapping of the water against the hull, the rest of the crew having gone to sleep after a long day.

They’d been traveling swiftly since leaving Bermuda, rowing when the wind slowed in order to make it to Azores before their supply of drinking water ran too low. It was a problem Zander had never considered before joining a crew of pirates—the challenge of having fresh water in the middle of the sea. It explained why pirates tended to get drunk so often: sometimes ale was the only thing left to drink.

The soft opening and closing of the door to the captain’s quarters made Zander grin.

“Hey there, Chicken Leg,” Ace said affectionately from behind him. “Care for a navigation lesson?”

Zander turned, smiling at her. She carried a rolled-up parchment he recognized as the planisphere diagrams she’d shown him on previous occasions, and she wore a long white nightgown instead of her usual trousers and vest.

He went to her, his hands aching to pull her against his body. They’d barely had a chance to talk privately since they left Bermuda.

He pulled her close to him, careful not to squash the papers between them. Their kiss was soft, slow, as if they were memorizing the feeling of one another’s lips.

“You look lovely tonight, Captain,” he said, pulling away to take her in. “You sure it’s okay if I leave my watch?”

“I’ll take over,” Yarrow said, making Zander jump. They’d come from seemingly nowhere, materializing from the shadows near the officer’s quarters.

“Jesus, Yarrow,” Zander said. “You nearly scared the piss out of me. Don’t you ever sleep?”

“If I told you that, it would ruin the mystery,” Yarrow said, holding their hand out for the telescope Zander was still holding and smiling. “You two go have your lesson. I’ll keep watch ‘til dawn.”

The lesson lasted an impressive twenty minutes before the two of them gave up and cast the diagram aside. Ace and Zander lay next to it, kissing one another deeply. Zander felt like he was breathing air for the first time in days. It simply wasn’t long enough before Yarrow’s footsteps sounded on the main deck, hurrying toward them.

Ace sat up just before they crested the stairs. Zander followed suit, his breath catching at the serious expression on the quartermaster’s face.

“There’s a vessel ahead,” Yarrow said. “You’re going to want to see this, Captain.”

6

When the first rays of dawn touched the water, Ace was still looking out at the vessel. She’d long since changed back into her regular clothes. Then she stood watch with Yarrow and Zander for the rest of the night. Theo joined them after a while, and the four of them shared a tense several hours together that Zander couldn’t quite understand.

Something had come over Ace the moment she saw that boat. In the light of the moon, it looked rather normal to Zander. As the sky lightened, he still couldn’t see any significant difference between it and any other merchant sloop they’d come across. It was a slightly different style than The Valerian, and it was rather ornate. In the barely growing light, Zander could make out some sort of carving attached to the bow. A Spanish flag hung limp at the mast in the absence of the wind. It didn’t appear to be especially well-equipped in artillery.

But the moment Ace laid eyes on the sloop, her demeanor had changed. She’d lowered the telescope from her eye, her shoulders rigid, but she didn’t take her eyes off that boat. She continued to stare at it as she spoke to Yarrow, as if she didn’t trust it enough to look away.

“Can we be rid of it by sunrise?” she’d asked.

Zander was confused then. Did she want to run away?

“There’s no wind,” Yarrow had said. “So, unless you want to wake the crew and start rowing, neither of us are going very far.”

Ace still didn’t take her eyes off the boat.

“Maybe the wind will pick up,” she said.

Yarrow was silent for several moments. “Aye, perhaps,” they said finally, their hand moving comfortingly to Ace’s shoulder. “All we can do is wait and see.”

And wait they did. Ace squeezed Zander’s hand as she walked past him to her quarters and emerged minutes later, fully clothed and outfitted with weapons. Since then, she’d seemed lost in her thoughts as she stared out at the water, occasionally speaking in hushed tones with Yarrow.

When Zander approached her to ask if everything was okay, she seemed surprised to see him, as if she’d forgotten he was still above deck.

“Yes,” she’d said, and offered him an unconvincing smile. “You can get some rest if you’d like. No sense in all of us losing sleep.”

But he’d refused, saying he expected to stay up anyway. She seemed slightly relieved as she took his hands and wrapped them around her from behind, leaning back against him. Zander rested his cheek atop her head and held her through the unrelenting stillness of the night.

Now, as the rays of the sun crested the horizon, Ace stood resolutely looking out at the water, her hand resting on the grip of her blade as if the still-visible boat were some monster she meant to slay.

Soon, the crew began to filter out of the lower decks, and Ace gave the order for one of them to go back and rouse the others.

“Time for a chat,” she announced when the deck was full of sleepy pirates.

It was what she said when she meant to have a crew meeting of sorts, usually followed by a vote. When decisions weren’t cut and dry, this was the crew’s standard operating procedure.

If they were low on supplies and ran into a vessel that was easy picking, Ace gave the order to pull alongside with no hesitation. When it came to proper care and navigation of her sloop, Ace’s word was law. But when courses of action were less clear, when risk potentially outweighed reward, the group operated as a democracy. It was one of the reasons the crew respected her so highly.

“I’m sure you’ve all spotted the Spanish vessel on the horizon,” she said. “We need to decide whether we overtake her or continue on our way. She’s a merchant vessel, likely standard procedure. We’re about 10 days out from Azores, maybe more. We’re still well-supplied, but every bit helps, as you all know.

“However, we are also in open water, days from the nearest shore. The boat you see on the horizon has spotted us as well and has had ample time to consider their course of action. There is always a risk of things not going well, and we do not have a chain of islands to get lost in if we’re outmaneuvered.”

Ace spread her hands in front of her, inviting the crew to share their thoughts. A few did. Overwhelmingly, a concern for supplies (and the hope of some fancy loot from the expensive-looking vessel) took the day. When Ace called for a vote, Zander did not raise his hand in favor of attack. Neither did Yarrow, or Theo. But fourteen of the crew members did.

“It’s settled, then,” Ace said. “I want everyone at their best.” She took a moment to look around, meeting each crew member’s eye. “We take no chances. No fucking around. Get in, get out, and we row out of here like it’s our fucking job. Got it?”

She was met by a chorus of agreement from the crew.

“LET’S GO!” shouted Yarrow, and the crew sprung into action, the best rowers headed below deck and everyone else to their respective positions.

Ace touched Yarrow’s arm, giving them a significant look. She mouthed the words be careful before she walked away to man the helm, her eyes focused across the water as she aimed them toward their fate.

The raid began normally. As they got closer, Zander could see the carving at the bow was of an octopus. The black flag was raised, a warning shot fired, and Ace demanded the captain be brought on board. He prepared himself to leave with the group that would board the vessel, but Ace held him back.

“Zander,” she said, and waved him over to her. When he approached, she lowered her voice. “I want you here this time. I need you to handle the captain so I can keep a sharper eye on things. Can you do that?”