Yarrow, Yarrow

Won’t you come grow in my yard? Oh,

I won’t do you any harm, no

Come relieve me of my sorrow

Yarrow, Yarrow

In the mornings if you’d greet me

Promise that you’ll never leave me

I would love you so completely

Zander watched Theo and Yarrow dance beneath the glow of the nearly full moon above their heads. Theo’s rich voice filled the ring of stones around them, punctuated by Yarrow’s occasional laughter as Theo spun them in circles.

Zander’s anxiety was soothed by the tender sight. It felt familiar, like a piece of home. He’d seen them dance together on the sloop, but the sense of comfort he felt ran deeper, as if he’d been seeing Theo and Yarrow dance all his life. And indeed, if one took all the moments from the many lifetimes he had lived in which he saw some version of this dance, they would likely fill up a lifetime all on their own.

As he watched his friends, waiting for the predetermined hour, Zander thought about their final moments with Hugo and Cristian. Hugo had grasped him by the elbow, pulled him close, and given him a look that pierced his very soul.

“You go get her,” he’d said. “You tell her I love her. You keep her safe.” His voice softened. “And please, come visit. All of you.”

21

When Theo and Zander parted with Yarrow, the night was deep and still. They tethered their horses to a tree on the west side of the property, far enough from the storehouses they wouldn’t be noticed, but close enough for a fast getaway when Zander, Theo, and Ace emerged from the tunnel exit nearby.

Before they parted, Theo and Yarrow pressed their foreheads together, their hands on one another’s faces.

“Be safe, my love,” Yarrow whispered.

“I am never safe,” Theo answered. “But I will return to you whole.” He kissed them, and the three pirates parted ways.

Zander and Theo crept quickly and quietly toward the back of the house, where the door to the west wing stood unguarded. A tug at the handle showed it was locked, and Theo retrieved the pin he kept in his sleeve to make fast work of it. Upon hearing the satisfying click of the lock giving way, the two entered the abandoned west wing and closed the door behind them.

Inside was a foyer of sorts, decorated with lavish rugs and tapestries. The Sanz family crest, featuring the eagle that hailed The Valerian’s doom the morning Zander first spotted it, took up the wall in front of them. To their right was a door, and beyond it, the inner courtyard and its overgrown garden. To their left was a long hallway lined with closed doors. Faintly glowing oil lamps dotted the walls, illuminating more extravagant décor.

“If this wing is abandoned, why are the lamps lit?” Theo wondered aloud.

Zander, having wondered the same thing, was already creeping forward down the long hallway. He stopped several paces in, listening to the faint cacophony surrounding him. When he finally recognized it as the distinct sound of snoring echoing from multiple rooms within the giant hall, he whipped around, looking at Theo in alarm.

“It’s not abandoned,” he whispered, just as a loud explosion sounded from the stables.

Zander and Theo rushed into the room closest to the foyer, which was mercifully unlocked. Inside, they found two men rubbing the sleep from their eyes, one wrapped in the covers of a large bed and the other sleeping in a pile of blankets on the floor. The second man shot up upon seeing the two pirates, but Theo quickly ran him through. He then swung his blade so the tip quivered at the throat of the second man, still wrapped in his covers, frozen in fear.

“How many men sleep in this hall?” Theo growled.

The man, who appeared no older than twenty, sputtered wordlessly. Theo pushed the blade so the tip pierced his neck, red blooming on his skin.

“How many?” he repeated.

“Not quite thirty,” the man said, his voice coming out as a squeak. “But there are at least two dozen more sleeping in the stables.”

Theo’s eyes widened, and he twisted the blade almost imperceptibly against the man’s throat.

“Why are there so many of you?” he demanded. “Aren’t you supposed to be privateers or something? Why aren’t you on your ship, pretending to be pirates?”

“L-Lord Sanz needed help guarding the prisoners,” the man said.

“Prisoners?”

“Yes, the ones we took from the boat whence the lady came. The p-pirates. They were being held here, until yesterday morning when some men came to retrieve them. They paid a bounty for each one. Lord Sanz promised us each payment after…” The man’s lower lip trembled, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“After what?” Zander demanded, taking a step closer.

“After he was… done… with her,” the man blubbered. Upon feeling Theo’s blade dig further into his neck, the man’s hands shot up, and tears streamed down his face. “Please,” he said. “I don’t wanna be here. I have no other prospects. I’m just here for the money.”

“And the rest of your friends?” Theo said. “Do they have any loyalty to Sanz beyond his coin purse?”

The young man attempted to shake his head, but Theo’s blade made him think better of it. “No, sir. I don’t believe so, sir.”

“Good,” Theo said. “I suggest you get the hell out of here then, once you wake up.”

“Wha—”

Theo took a step forward before he could speak again and grabbed the side of his head, slamming it hard into the bedframe. The young man slumped over. Zander winced, thinking of Theo’s injury. It took a surprising amount of force to knock a man out by hitting him, Zander had recently learned.

Muffled voices sounded from the hallway, soldiers waking from the sound of the explosion.

“It’s a fire!” Zander heard someone holler. “I can see it from my window!”

A loud thud from the foyer indicated someone had entered the west wing from the central courtyard.

“Get dressed, you idiots!” a man yelled. “We’re under attack!”

The muffled voices turned to the urgent patter of feet upon the ground.

“Fuck,” Theo muttered, his voice shaking. “We’ve just sent dozens of men out there to find Yarrow.”

Zander peeled back the curtains to look outside. The stables burned like a lit torch, sending sparks shooting into the night sky. Zander wondered if dozens of men and horses burned inside it, or if Yarrow had managed to free the innocent beasts before lighting the fuse.

Zander turned to see Theo with his ear pressed against the door, his sword sheathed but his hand hovering near one of his pistols. Footfalls sounded more heavily from the hallway now, the men’s boots stomping urgently toward the door at the end of the corridor. Zander held his breath, hoping no one would notice two missing men.

Neither man moved as they waited for the wing to clear out. Theo’s jaw was rigidly set, his lips a thin line. His hands shook.

“You should go to Yarrow,” Zander said.

Theo’s head whipped toward Zander, and he stood straighter. “I can’t leave you, mate. Besides, you need me to pick the lock on Ace’s door.”