Theo sat roughly on the ground next to one of the pillars, throwing his arms out against the wall at his back as if he were lounging on a feather bed.

“We should rest here,” Yarrow said, sitting atop a low stone wall. “I’ll take first watch. We’ll leave at dawn and keep heading east.”

Zander opened his mouth to protest, meaning to take first watch instead, but Yarrow silenced him with a look. “Rest,” they said, pointing at the ground like they were commanding a dog to lay down.

Ever the loyal companion, Zander obeyed. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the stone pillow.

***

Zander woke to the first rays of dawn peeking over the low stone wall above his head. The smell of smoke burned his nostrils. It took several seconds for him to remember where he was, and when he did, he shot up from his place on the ground and looked frantically around him.

Yarrow knelt nearby, smiling at him, a small fire growing in a stone circle near their feet.

“Morning,” they said and held up a skewer of mushrooms in greeting.

“Morning,” Zander said. “Why didn’t you wake me to take watch?”

“There was no need,” Yarrow said. “I couldn’t have slept if I tried.”

Zander looked over to find Theo still asleep on the ground, his cheek smashed against the stone and his hair covering his eyes. He gave Yarrow a look of concern, but they waved it off.

“Truly, I’m fine,” they said. “Times like this, I find it works better for me to stay awake. Besides, I found breakfast.” They positioned the skewer over the fire. Zander noticed several more resting on a nearby stone. “And I had enough time to gather plants to make a poultice for Theo’s arm.”

Zander stood slowly, stretching his aching muscles, then leaned down to take Yarrow’s hand and squeeze it in silent thanks. They squeezed back, smiling briefly at him before turning their attention back to the fire.

After wandering off to relieve himself, Zander returned to find Theo awake and eating roasted mushrooms. Yarrow offered him one as he approached, and he took it gratefully. The three ate in silence, then Yarrow cleaned Theo’s wounds and applied the poultice, wrapping his shoulder carefully in his used bandages. Then the three pirates gathered their things and continued to walk, sticking to the hard packed ground beyond the sand, the sea close enough to smell but far enough they could walk easily.

A chill hung in the air as they set out that soon dissipated as the sun drifted upward from the horizon. Spring was in full bloom on the Spanish coast, summer peeking its head, and Yarrow stopped occasionally to pick herbs or flowers that they carefully placed in their satchel.

They came upon a small fishing village shortly after setting out, where they purchased smoked fish to carry with them and refilled their flasks with fresh water. Theo spoke with the man they bought the food from and ascertained they’d landed about a five hour walk from Tarifa, a trade center that Theo seemed confident would supply more effective transportation than their aching feet. They thanked the man and continued east.

When Tarifa emerged on the horizon, the sun was high in the sky. Zander’s feet ached, and his body was sore from clinging to the side of the pirate ship the day prior, but he didn’t complain. He just took one heavy step after another, the image of golden eyes filling his head.

It had been three full days since he last saw Ace. And while he no longer worried she was dead, he couldn’t stop running through the other sinister possibilities in his head. With one step, she was tied to a wall, her hands strung above her head. With the next step, she was beaten within an inch of her life. With yet another step, she had moved back in with her husband and agreed to start wearing dresses and serving tea.

Zander loosed a long sigh, kicking at a rock near his feet.

“Doing alright, mate?” Theo asked, slowing to walk beside him. Yarrow was up ahead, scraping sap from a tree.

Zander gave Theo a grateful smile. “I’m… anxious,” he said, feeling the word wasn’t altogether sincere. Really, he was scared. Over the last three days, his fear had lain dormant under layers of adrenaline and anxiety. Now, with hours of silence and nothing to do but walk and think, it was free to bubble to the surface, whispering all the most horrible possible outcomes to Zander.

Theo nodded and continued walking next to Zander for several minutes, looking at his shoes as if they held the answer to some unspoken question.

Finally, he said, “Did I ever tell you about Tortuga?”

Zander shook his head, mentally cataloging the locations of Theo’s many stories in his head. “I don’t think so,” he said.

“It was about four years ago,” Theo began. “We made port in Tortuga on the cusp of a storm. The crew found refuge in a lively tavern, where we all intended to drink ourselves under the table and ride out the rain. It was a good time at first. Ace was deep in her cup, singing, dancing, and generally making a ruckus. That is, until she noticed a barmaid with a black eye and rope marks on her wrists. Fatima was her name.

“Ace made a big show of flirting with her. Tipping her with gold coins, complimenting her, and eventually, calling her over to the corner of the tavern to sit on her lap. Away from the big ugly fellow who had been keeping a close eye on her all night, the one she skirted around to avoid being roughly grabbed at. Ace whispered in her ear. To anyone watching, it was nothing but a pirate staking her claim on her nightly entertainment. But Ace wasn’t whispering sweet nothings in the maid’s ear. She wasn’t gripping the woman’s waist as an act of dominance. Her hand hovered just above her hip, not touching her, as they conspired together.

“It was no surprise the woman wasn’t there willingly. She was taken from Morocco and eventually ended up in Tortuga, working in that tavern, under the supervision of the ugly oaf, a former pirate himself from what I understood. Ace asked her to come with us, but she refused. Apparently, the man had her brother too. He was being held somewhere under lock and key. They kept him locked up in the evenings while she worked, to prevent her from running. And during the day they tied her up while he labored, to prevent him from running.”

Theo’s face twisted with disgust, and he spat on the ground, as if ridding his body of the very mention of the insidious manipulation.

“That’s horrific,” Zander said softly.

“Aye, it was,” Theo agreed. “And all too common a sight. But Ace, she’s never been one to look the other way. She waited until the rain started to die down and the crew was good and drunk. By the time night fell, she was sober. She told me and Yarrow to get the crew back to The Valerian, and to make sure the girl was with us. ‘Come find me after,’ she said, and settled into her seat, staring down the man across the tavern with all the vitriol she could muster.

“Well, he noticed the stare, and he didn’t like it. As he walked over to Ace, Yarrow and I shuffling the crew out the door like a bunch of drunken geese, the barmaid hidden in their midst, it was like watching a rhinoceros approach a tiger. Big, lumbering, overly confident. And she just sat there, waiting, ready to strike. I lingered just long enough to watch him haul her across the tavern and into a room in the back, where he closed the door and latched it behind them.

“I was terrified, Mate. I’d seen Ace get into and out of plenty of sticky situations, but that was the first time I’d walked away and let her do it alone. Yarrow and I herded the crew to the ship at a run, and once we came in sight of the dock I put the barmaid’s hand in Yarrow’s, told her everything was going to be alright, and sprinted back to the tavern, convinced Ace was already dead. When I got there, I went around back, sneaking through the mud, my ears straining to hear any sign of Ace over the gentle patter of rain.”

Theo tiptoed across the sandy ground in demonstration, his hand cupped at his ear.

“Then I heard a man yell, and Ace’s voice hollered out, clear as a bell, ‘FUCK YOU, YOU OVERGROWN GALLIWASP!’ and a loud WHAM! followed, like someone had hit the floor. I burst in through the back door, guns blazing, ready to kill every fucker in the place, and you know what I found?”

Theo looked at Zander expectantly, having stopped in his tracks, his raised hands in the shape of phantom pistols.

“What?” Zander said, thoroughly engrossed in the story.

“I found Ace, in the center of a large room, her hands bound above her. She hung from the ceiling, the tips of her toes just barely scraping the floor. Blood ran down her face like she’d been hit, and at her feet lay the rhinoceros man, unconscious. She looked at me, one eye closed to keep the blood out, and smiled.” Theo smiled widely in imitation of Ace. “‘Right on time!’ she said. ‘Cut me down. I know where her brother is.’

“Mate, in the time it took me to usher the crew away and sprint back, Ace had goaded the awful man into telling her every horrible thing he’d ever done, including exactly where he was keeping Fatima’s brother and where the key was to unlock the door. She was beat up, yes. But she didn’t break. Every time his fist landed on Ace, it broke away a bit of his own resolve, a layer of inhibition, and Ace found out just what she wanted to know. And as soon as she knew it, she likened him to a fat lizard and hoisted her feet up off the ground, knocking him out with a well-placed kick to the head.

“And that’s the story of the last time we ever docked in Tortuga, and our first ever trip to Morocco.” Theo placed his hand on Zander’s shoulder. “You see, mate, Ace very seldom walks into a situation without an escape plan. I’m willing to bet she’s been steps ahead of Lord Sanz since the moment we spotted those sails on the horizon. We’re well on our way. She’ll be alright.”

Zander smiled and reached up to place his hand atop Theo’s. His eyes glistened with emotion he wasn’t yet ready to express. “Thank you, Theo,” he said softly. Theo nodded, and they continued on.

***

Tarifa was a sprawling mix of permanent buildings and large tents. An ancient stone castle stood like a watchman to the North, the Spanish flags positioned at its turrets a stark contrast to its dull grey facade. Vessels of all sizes, from rowboats to giant ships, were docked at the harbor. People of all shapes and colors mingled at the edge of the beach where locals and traveling traders offered their wares. Zander heard African dialects and various versions of English interspersed with Spanish, and his weary mind was tempted to get lost in the myriad of sounds, smells, and sights that confronted him at the busy trade port.

Zander spotted a woman selling clothing and stopped to buy a pair of socks to replace his still-damp ones. Theo acquired wrappings from another merchant for his injuries, and Yarrow traded some of the herbs they’d foraged for a small bottle of oil, which they made Zander rub on his blistering soles before he wrapped his feet and swapped his rancid socks for the new, dry pair. As he pulled on his boots, he noticed a small pile of leatherbound journals stacked nearby on an artisan’s blanket. With Theo’s attention focused elsewhere, he bought one small enough to fit in his coat’s outer pocket. Once this was all over, he’d give it to Theo as a gift, so he could begin writing his book.

All that remained was to purchase food and passage to Malaga, the port that lay South of the Sanz estate, and Ace’s old home. On a regular merchant ship rather than a pirate ship, the three would be able to disembark without drawing too much attention from potential spies for Sanz.

Zander was feeling refreshed, hopeful even, with dry feet that smelled like grass and a full stomach, as they turned their attention to the line of vessels at the shore.

“With as much gold as we have, we should be able to charter one of these to Malaga and get our girl,” Theo said.

Yarrow nodded, pointing at a sailboat where a few men were unloading their wares. “That one looks promising,” they said. “The crew is young, but they look experienced. I imagine they wouldn’t be averse to leaving right away.”

As Theo and Yarrow debated the merits of the sailboat against other nearby vessels, Zander’s eye caught on a far-off ship he hadn’t noticed before. He stood staring at it, the many people milling about crossing in and out of his line of sight, occasionally brushing against his black jacket. It was so far off he couldn’t be sure, but it appeared to have black sails.

“What do you think, mate?” Theo asked.

Zander opened his mouth to reply, intending to tell them he didn’t give a damn which boat they took as long as it sailed quickly, when a broad-shouldered man with blonde hair that was nearly white emerged from the crowd. Upon seeing them, Andrew’s eyes widened in recognition.