Zander nodded. “Of course.”

Ace nodded back, her expression steady aside from the worry lines creasing her forehead. “Thank you,” she said to him. She turned to the crew, scanning the crowd before shouting, “Thomas! Go over in Zander’s stead.”

Thomas gave a curt nod in response.

Minutes later, the captain of the merchant vessel boarded The Valerian, along with one of his sailors. He was a tall man. His greying hair was cut short, and he wore a handsome dark blue uniform. His clean-shaven face wore an expression of boredom mixed with disgust.

As he stepped foot on the vessel, the man moved as little of his body as humanly possible. His chin jutted out, his hands stiff at his sides, and he managed not to look a single person in the eye. Zander directed him to the center of the deck, using the firing end of his pistol to point, as he’d seen Ace do so many times before. The sailor beside him trailed along nervously, his hands raised meekly in the air.

“On your knees,” Zander said, his voice leaving no room for argument. The sailor was on his knees before he finished speaking, and George had his hands swiftly tied behind his back. The captain, however, made no move—he simply stood there, gazing out at his vessel with a look of haughty distaste. Zander kicked the back of one of his legs, forcing him to fall. The man’s lip curled as he fell roughly to his knees, but otherwise he gave no indication that Zander or any of the rest of them existed. He simply folded his hands behind his back and continued to stare ahead.

Zander positioned himself beside the merchant captain and slightly behind him, his pistol pointed at his head. He chanced a glance at Ace. She was standing at the forecastle, her eyes laser-focused on the merchant vessel as the raiding crew prepared to board. The sailors manning the swivel guns shared her intensity, their shoulders squared tensely as they looked for any sign of trouble.

As Zander watched the raid unfold, his pistol now firmly positioned against the back of the captain’s head for good measure, a growing sense of unease overtook him. He couldn’t place where it was coming from. Perhaps it was Ace’s words of warning to the crew. Or the intensity of the man before him, reluctantly on his knees.

He looked again at Ace. She stood still as a statue, her face obscured beyond the rigging, but when he laid his eyes on her, his anxiety only increased. He wondered briefly if he was picking up on her own feelings about the raid and whatever mystery was causing her to act so strangely.

His attention was pulled from Ace by a commotion across the water. He scanned the vessel. Thomas was being hauled from the lower deck by the scruff of his shirt by Theo. Yarrow emerged just behind them, their sword drawn.

Zander tensed. Thomas shouldn’t have been below deck at all. Zander had long since taken on the role of dismantling the rigging during raids, preventing their targets from making chase. As a competent sailor himself, Thomas was a logical choice to replace him. He should have understood his role.

Zander grew more nervous by the second during the long wait for their crew to finally disable the sails and make it back to The Valerian. By the time they were in the longboats, Ace was pacing back and forth on the forecastle.

The first boat returned, and the pirates that boarded wore expressions of delight.

Santiago crested the side of the boat and looked directly at the merchant captain, a wide smile on his face as he gestured behind him, his curls bouncing around his head.

“Some fine wares you’re transporting, Captain!” he said, laughing.

Ace approached the men that had returned, peering over the edge to see the rest of the crew heading back—including Thomas, Theo, and Yarrow.

“What happened?” she asked Bagu, who was lifting a large chest over the railing with Saila’s help.

Bagu shook his head. “I don’t know, Cap,” he said. “Yarrow said it’s a matter for the captain, and to focus on the job.” He gestured to the chest with his chin as they set it down. “And focus we did,” he said loudly, a triumphant smile on his face.

He was met by a round of excited cheers from the crew members that stayed behind, eliciting a grunt of derision from the merchant captain—the first sign he’d shown of being alive in many long minutes.

“We’ll celebrate later,” Ace said, clapping Bagu on the arm good-naturedly, a grim expression on her face.

When the rest of the crew boarded, they had loot as well, but not all of them wore the proud expressions that spoke of a rich payday. Yarrow’s eyes burned like fire as they climbed on deck and turned to watch Thomas board next, Theo close behind him.

As soon as Thomas’s feet hit the deck, Yarrow had him on his knees, the end of their sword pointed at his heart.

Yarrow didn’t look away from Thomas as they spoke. Zander had never seen them look so menacing. A chill ran down his spine at the way they seemed to nearly vibrate with rage.

“He was caught below deck with a woman,” they bit out when Ace approached.

Zander saw Ace’s hand tighten around the handle of her blade.

“A willing woman?” she said, her voice low. She looked from Yarrow to Thomas, her gaze whipping toward him like a striking serpent.

“Unwilling,” Yarrow answered. “I intervened before he could do more than scare the poor girl. But his intentions were clear.”

The merchant sailor still kneeling beside his captain was struggling with the ties on his hands, his breathing heavy.

“Juliana?” he said, his eyes wide with fear. His captain continued to stare ahead, determined not to look a single pirate in the face.

“She’s fine,” Yarrow said to the sailor. “Shaken up, but whole.”

The sailor nodded shakily, growing quiet once more.

Ace stood rigidly still through the exchange. Zander noticed the rise and fall of her chest as she listened, the pace of its rhythm slowly increasing.

“How did this happen?” she demanded quietly.

Echo’s voice came quietly from behind Ace. “He gave me the slip, Captain. We was supposed to stick together and I lost ‘im. I’m sorry.”

Ace’s expression was unreadable, her eyes glued to Thomas. She took a long, deep breath and turned around to face the crowd of pirates gathered around her.

“Is there anyone aboard this vessel who is unfamiliar with our code of conduct?” Her steely expression faltered as she spoke, anger rippling off her in waves. She looked between each of the faces before her in turn. “Anyone?!” she barked.

The crew was silent. Ace turned to look at Thomas again, her face twisted in indignation.

“Thomas? Do you need a refresher on the rules?” She slapped him hard on the last word, causing his face to whip to the side.

Ace turned again to the crew, yelling. Thomas was beginning to shake.

“People aren’t loot!” she roared. “Women are off limits! I told every one of you in no unclear terms what would happen if I caught you abusing a woman.” She paused, shaking her head in frustration as she turned again to Thomas. “Goddamnit, Thomas, you fool,” she said and, drawing her ivory cutlass from her belt, swiftly slit his throat.

Zander gasped, his knees suddenly weak as he watched Thomas slowly—oh, so slowly—fall to the deck in a heap. Crimson blood pooled around him, slowly staining the wood as the crew looked on, silent.

He raised his eyes to Ace. Blood splatter covered the front of her shirt and dotted her face, and her eyes as she looked down at the man she killed were filled with disappointment. Then, as if suddenly remembering he was still there, she raised her eyes to look at the merchant captain who knelt before Zander.

The violence had managed to pull the captain’s gaze from the water. He stared now at the dead man on the ground just feet away, his eyes wide in shock. Then he looked up at Ace, his back straightening as he took her in, his eyes growing somehow wider. Suddenly, his shock reverted to disgust.

“It’s you,” he said, the words hurled like an accusation.

Ace stepped forward before he could speak again, her face steely as she raised her blade above her head and brought it down, connecting the bone handle to the side of the man’s head. He fell unceremoniously to the ground, unconscious.

“Untie his hands,” she said to no one in particular. “Get them off my boat.”

Then she stormed away, disappearing into her quarters.

Once, he was no one.

Streams of data flashed before his eyes-which-were-not-eyes, data with clear meaning, yet so profoundly meaningless. He was always thinking, always changing, and yet never “something.” There was nothing it was like to be him.