The ship, in fact, was more correctly a sloop. Much smaller than a full-sized ship, the sloop was faster and easier to operate, and could sail in shallower waters. He learned all this from Theo, who served as the ship’s boatswain—a caretaker of sorts. Theo explained that a sloop also allowed them to operate with a much smaller crew than a proper ship required. There were 21 souls aboard the sloop, including Zander, and even with far fewer, the boat would be operable.

This particular sloop was named The Valerian, a title whose origins Theo refused to explain, saying he would hear them from Ace—who was indeed the captain of the vessel—eventually.

That is, if Zander ever worked up the courage to speak to her again. Thus far, the two had exchanged a grand total of twelve words since the first day he arrived. He’d counted. Between his adjustment to a life at sea and the responsibilities of Ace as both captain and navigator, there rarely seemed to be a moment in which to catch his breath in her presence. And besides, she seemed to be giving him space. So, he kept mainly to the crew, hoping to learn all he could before he made a lovesick fool of himself in front of her.

In the time he’d spent on the boat, Zander learned that despite the many stories he’d heard about pirates, most of them were just like regular people. Some were young and others were old. Some were personable and outgoing like Theo, or warm and kind like Yarrow. Others were downright jolly, like George, or Bagu, a tall Nigerian man with a clean-shaven head who caught Zander in his arms like a damsel in distress the first time he fell from the rigging, then laughed heartily and proceeded to whisk him away to the crew’s quarters as if they’d just been married.

Some were quiet and solitary, like Echo, a young deckhand who’d been living on the streets of Porto before he joined the crew. And still others were downright assholes, like Declan, who Zander observed had a habit of spitting far too often for a healthy adult male, usually to emphasize some point or another he felt he needed to make.

Regardless of temperament however, the crew worked together like a hive of honeybees, every action for the benefit of the group—and their queen.

And then there was the queen, or rather, the captain. She was the only one whom Zander couldn’t imagine as a regular person he might meet on the island, or back home in England. Despite knowing little to nothing about her, she had an aura as distinct from everyone else as the famed northern lights were from London’s smoggy skies.

“Care for a break from your stitching?”

Theo’s voice came from behind Zander, who was spread out with the dismantled foresail on the sloop’s upper deck. He turned, anticipating Theo’s casual smile as he cleared the top step.

Zander flexed his fingers experimentally as he eyed the position of the sun in the sky. He’d lost track of time repairing the sails. It had apparently been hours, and his hands were stiff from the tedious movements. Thankfully, only a few of the smallest tears remained.

“I could use a break,” he said, standing.

“Excellent.” Theo plopped down on the deck, pulling a flask from his pocket as he did. “Drink with me, my friend.”

Zander chuckled, again eyeing the position of the sun.

“Isn’t there more to do?” he asked. “More repairs after the storm?”

The storm had hit them two days ago. Zander’s first storm at sea was both a learning experience and the most terrifying thing that had ever happened to him. It also exacerbated any needed repairs aboard the ship, necessitating a break from sailing to tend to them. They were currently anchored just offshore of another island in the Caribbean Zander couldn’t name. If he had to guess, he thought they might be near San Juan, though it was clear the tropical storm had blown them somewhat off course. In either case, he tried not to think too much about it, lest he jump back into the sea and swim to shore in search of a safe, familiar life.

“All of the important work is done,” Theo said, taking a swig from his flask. “Yarrow and Ace are in captain’s quarters making plans. The crew is driving me fucking nuts. And I’m tired.” He gestured to the sail with his free hand. “You’ve mended nearly a thousand of those tiny holes by now, so I’d say we’ve both earned a break.”

Zander accepted the flask when Theo offered it and took a drink, looking briefly out at the rest of the crew. Those who weren’t currently below deck were spectating as Bagu practiced swordplay with Saila, a Swedish woman with a quick arm and a spider tattoo on the shaved half of her blonde head. The two danced around each other, trading just as many quips as blows, their flirtatious fight a welcome distraction for the crew.

“Aye,” Zander said, sitting. “I suppose we have.”

Zander smiled to himself as he and Theo drank in companionable silence. He liked Theo. Once he realized he wasn’t a threat, he treated Zander just like one of the crew. He went out of his way to include him in things, whether it was daily chores or a spontaneous drinking session wherein the crew tried to outdo one another’s best stories.

Zander felt a sort of kinship with Theo. Despite being quite unlike any of his childhood friends—Theo was pirate through and through, a heady mix of industriousness and abandon—he could easily imagine having a drink with him back home.

He felt the same about Theo’s partner, Yarrow. Yarrow had been a sort of haven for Zander since he came aboard, making sure he had all he needed and generally making him feel… safe. He wasn’t sure what it was about Yarrow, but whenever they were around, the most unsavory crew members—the aforementioned assholes—seemed to give Zander a wide berth. Of course, Yarrow was The Valerian’s quartermaster and therefore its official disciplinarian. But all Zander had ever felt from them was a strong, steady warmth.

“How long have you and Yarrow known each other?” Zander asked Theo.

“I stopped keeping track long ago, mate,” Theo replied. “The day I met Yarrow, my life began. Time hasn’t had much meaning since then.” He paused to drink again and then met Zander’s eyes. “I was young, though, I’ll tell you that. Young and stupid.”

Zander smiled, imagining what the two of them would have been like, young and in love. They were both now in their early forties, but still more in love than anyone Zander had ever met.

“How did you meet?”

“Yarrow saved my ass,” Theo said, a grin forming on his face as he straightened, preparing to tell a tale. “I was living on the streets of Valparaiso at the time, pickpocketing and scavenging to get by. One day, I stole from the wrong person and got caught. Turns out the man was some royal prick, an officer, or a privateer, something like that. I don’t remember what he called himself, just that he seemed quite comfortable as he raised his sword to cut off my hand.

“But just as he was about to lower his blade, a blood-curdling scream sounded from behind him. It was so startling the man nearly dropped his sword, but his men’s hands remained firmly on my forearm, holding it down. When he turned to see who made the sound, there stood Yarrow.”

Theo’s arms had been moving animatedly as he told the story. They settled now over his heart, as if he had to still its rapid beating all over again simply thinking about the first time he saw his other half.

“Their eyes met mine for only a moment, but it was long enough for my entire body—my entire being—to lock on to theirs. It was over for me then, mate. I thought, ‘If I bleed out in the next few moments from having my hand cut off, at least this angel will be here to watch me die.’ But Yarrow made a beeline for the man, filled with such intensity not a single one of us could take our eyes away from them.

“‘Parles-tu français?’ they asked the man. And when it was clear neither him nor his friends understood them, Yarrow began speaking rapidly in French, waving their arms, crying, occasionally screaming nonsensical words.”

Theo chuckled. “I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, mate. ‘What the fuck do you pompous elephants think you’re doing here?’ they said. ‘Your stinking perfume can be smelt from the docks; it overpowers the fish.’ And then, without looking at me, they said, ‘I hope my friend here understands French, because if not, this distraction will be for nothing.’ And all the while, they chattered hysterically.

“Thankfully, I’d picked up several languages in my young life. It’s a valuable skill to have in a port town, especially when you’ve got nothing but your wits to feed you. As I listened, Yarrow gave me step by step instructions about what would happen next and which direction to run when it did—calm and controlled, just like the Yarrow you see here on the ship. But all the while, they shrieked and screamed and cried enough that all four men surrounding me couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on. And in the midst of the confusion, they struck.”

Theo had a gleam in his eye now, and his hands were again waving in the air as if he were regaling Zander with the tale of Achilles at the gates of Troy.

“Yarrow’s blade came from nowhere, and before I could so much as blink, two of the men were on the ground, clutching at their wounds. Another was unconscious by the time I started running. I’ve never run so fast. But soon I stopped, and something churned in my gut as I thought about my rescuer. I couldn’t just leave them there. I wasn’t much with a blade back then, but I was cunning, and strong. So, I turned back, but as I twisted around, I nearly ran straight into them.

“It took my breath away, mate. There they stood, not a single scratch or bit of dirt on them, and in their outstretched hand was the gold I tried to steal. ‘I believe this is yours,’ they said.” Theo did a perfect impression of Yarrow’s subtle French accent, a contrast to his Chilean one. “We’ve been by each other’s sides ever since.”

Theo had a faraway look on his face as he concluded his tale.

“And Ace? When did you meet her?”

Theo looked sideways at Zander, smiling in a way that made him feel vulnerable.

“We met Ace about nine years ago,” he said. “Been sailing under her command for six.”

“Ah,” Zander said, feigning disinterest despite the fact that his heart was racing simply talking about her. He took a long drink from the flask Theo handed him.

“She told us about that kiss, you know.”

Zander choked, rum sputtering from his mouth as he leaned forward and coughed. Theo threw back his head and laughed, clapping his hand on Zander’s back good-naturedly.

“Don’t be self-conscious, mate. She wouldn’t have told us about it if it wasn’t a decent kiss at least.”

Zander buried his face in his hands, but he couldn’t suppress a laugh.

“Well, at least there’s that,” he said, shaking his head at Theo, who seemed to enjoy his discomfort.

“Listen, I only said something because I can tell you’re… how should I put it? Pining from afar?”

Zander rolled his eyes, but he didn’t deny it.

“Give it time, mate,” Theo said, clapping him on the back again. “Between you and me, I think she’s rather smitten with you as well.”

Tiny explosions sounded in Zander’s chest.

“But she’s also the captain,” Theo continued, dampening his excitement. “She’s got to act in a way that doesn’t throw her motives into question. She’s got to be fair, evenhanded. She’s got a reputation to uphold, you understand? The crew loves her to a fault for the most part, but she’s very conscious about how she’s perceived anyhow.”