Editor’s Note: This is the second installment of a story by this author; the first one can be found here.

The sun never rose the day they landed in Askwald. The crew of the Manta Tide Maria woke to a grey dawn that turned into a rainy morning and an uncomfortable, morose lunch. Ropes were nearly impossible to hold onto or tie in the rain, and after the first hour or two everyone was soaked to the bone. Most of those who had hats had left them at their bunks when the rain started, and the rest periodically tipped their heads to pour out the water that had collected in the brim. Even Elijah was more subdued than normal and spent most of the day on the upper deck, occasionally joined by Shaytan or Blue. 

Luca watched them from afar, the nerves that had tightened in his stomach reflecting the Captain’s endless pacing. Most of the crew was excited. From what Luca could tell, this was the first raid the crew had done in quite some time. He had expected to be left on the ship with the rest of those delegated to protect it, but the night before, Elijah had asked to spar with him.

“Fix your feet. A strong wind would knock you over like that. Are you aware of our visit to Askwald tomorrow?”

“That’s not how I’ve heard it described.” Luca shifted his weight as she asked. 

“Better.” Elijah nodded. “However you’ve heard it described, I’d like you to go.”

“You what?” In his moment of distraction, Elijah disarmed him with a deft movement and his sword clattered to the ground. 

“I’d like you to go to Askwald tomorrow.” 

“I thought I was staying on the Maria,” Luca said, picking up his sword with shaking hands. 

“Perhaps you misheard me. I. Would like you. To go. To Askwald. Tomorrow.” She said every word slowly, as if exaggerating the words would make them more believable. 

“But I-”

“That wasn’t an option, Luca. Fix your feet again; you’re pulling yourself in too much.”

He did as she said. “Won’t I just get in the way?”

“Good. Now parry.” She swung down at him with her own weapon and he hastily threw his blade up to block hers. The blow sent him stumbling several steps backward, a twinge of pain rippling through his arms. She shook her head.

“You’re too rigid. You’ve got the concept, but you’re trying to be unmovable. It’s not about not being moved; it’s about not letting me move you. Move on your own terms and then maybe you’ll stay on your feet longer than thirty seconds.” 

Luca took up the stance again. He could feel the heat staining his face red, but knew better than to respond. The captain repeated the move and he parried again, this time stepping back as he did so. It still hurt, but he didn’t fall. 

“Better.” Elijah nodded in approval. “That was better. You’ll get there. Eventually.” 

She set her sword down and took a long drink out of her flask. 

“You won’t be in the way.”

“But I’ve never killed anyone! I’ve never even hit someone!”

Elijah looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “When did I ask you to kill someone? I only recall telling you that you were coming with us.”

Luca shifted uncomfortably. “Well, you’re pirates, so I figured that-”

“You thought that at every town we raid we murder in cold blood everyone we see?”

When he didn’t respond, Elijah let out a short burst of laughter.

“If that was the case, how come you’re alive right now? Wouldn’t we have killed you, along with the rest of your town? Maybe cook you up for dinner? After all, you know how rarely we get fresh meat.” 

“Well, I-” 

“Don’t bother,” Elijah interrupted. “I don’t expect you to kill anyone. Or even harm anyone. Maybe a little bit of thievery, but we all know you don’t have an issue with that.” 

Heat flooded his cheeks again at the reminder of the day he accidentally became a pirate. Almost two months ago, he had stolen a flower from Nyles, one of the sailors aboard the Manta Tide Maria, and nearly found himself at the business end of a sword. Instead of punishing him, Elijah had offered him a place aboard her ship. Contrary to the belief of many on the Maria, he didn’t steal things regularly, but Elijah still brought it up every chance she could. 

“Why?” Luca asked. It seemed like he was always asking that question.  Why do you want me, of all people? Why is this like that? Why is that done this way? Why, why why?   Never mind the fact that he rarely got a straight answer. 

“That’s always the question, isn’t it?” Elijah sighed. “You want to know why I want you to come ashore to Askwald? Because I trust you to watch my back. You may not be the best with a sword, and you may not be quite as ready for blood as some of the others, but you obey orders, you’re tough, and you’re not afraid to get your hands dirty. Plus,” she added as an afterthought, “you’ll panic and shout as soon as someone catches you, so the rest of us will know we’ve been spotted.”
She saw the look on his face and grinned. “Oh, please. I’m kidding. We won’t leave you behind, and you’re not going to die.” She frowned. “Probably. You probably won’t die. Anyway! Back to work for you. I heard Cook needed help cleaning up the fish the boys caught this morning.” With that, she picked up her sword, sheathed it, and walked away, braids blowing slightly in the wind. 

Luca sighed. “Yes, captain.” 

He hated gutting fish.
His hands, which still smelled like fish, hadn’t stopped shaking all day. How was he supposed to hold a sword like this? He’d been offered rum from three different people who had noticed his nervousness, but he refused. He could barely swallow his own spit! God, this was going to be a disaster. 

The leather armor was far heavier than the others made it look, although very few of the Maria’s crew wore the same pieces. Many wore mismatched sets; a cuirass from this region, bracers from that one, leg greaves from two different sets of armor. Most of them had been salvaged from other ships over the years, and many were still stained dark with blood from battles long past. 

“Ready?” she asked. 

He swallowed. “No. But that doesn’t matter, does it?”

She shook her head. “If we waited until we were ready, we’d never leave the ship. Especially for your first raid. It’s one of those things you’re never ready for; no matter how much you prepared yourself, you’ll never be ready.” 

“You’ll do fine,” Elijah added, not unkindly. “Just stick with one of us.” 

“Elijah!” 

Luca jumped at Shay’s voice, but Elijah just turned around. Shaytan ran up to them, her armor rustling and clinking as she moved. She took the captain's hand and with the other inspected Elijah’s face paint. Luca took a step back, prepared for Elijah to retaliate; no one touched Elijah. But the captain just smiled at Shay’s frown. 

“Not up to par?”

Shay sighed. “I could have done better. The blue and the red mixed a little over here, so now some of your dots are turning purple. Oh well. If anyone gets close enough to you to see that, we have bigger issues.” She grinned. “Ready?”

“As ready as ever. As soon as the sun goes behind the horizon, we’ll go. By the time we reach shore, it’ll be full twilight.” She dropped Shay’s hand to look at her crew, most of whom were waiting eagerly for her signal. “The crew is ready.”

Shay laughed. “They’ve been ready for weeks. They’ve gotten very few opportunities for a bit of honest piracy since you split from the Alta Star.” She turned to Luca, noticing him for the first time. “Well. Most of the crew is ready.” 

Luca shrugged uncomfortably. “I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Blue said they wouldn’t let me die, so I suppose it’ll be fine.”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. Askwald isn’t a large town; they’ve got a population of a little under 700, so no standing military. It's primarily a printing town; the bay we’re just outside of is full of miniature squid. They farm them for their ink. The majority of their population are either squid farmers or scribes. There's a trade road that goes through the edge of town, so that’s where they get most of their supplies. As far as raids go, this won’t be dangerous.” 

Elijah looked at her. “Someone did their homework.”

Shay shrugged. “Not me. I’m just repeating what Blue said. There’s a reason why Blue’s your first mate.” 

They laughed for a moment, then just as suddenly as she had started, Elijah stopped, her eyes fixed on the horizon. 

“It’s time,” she whispered, squeezing Shay’s hand one last time before easily climbing a pile of crates and barrels so she was above her crew. Within moments, the deck was silent in anticipation. 

“No one dies tonight. Burn and break and terrify and take anything that isn’t bolted down, but no one dies. It’s time!” Her voice rang out over the ship, rocking softly on the water. “The sun has set over Askwald, and we will be its nightmare.” Her voice was drowned out by the cheers of the crew. She jumped nimbly down, signaling with her hand to Blue, who began shepherding sailors into the two rowboats hanging on the side of the ship. In less than a minute, both the boats were filled. Blue boarded one and Luca hastily followed Elijah into the other. The cranks on the Manta Tide Maria turned and the rowboats ground slowly toward the water. 

Luca thought he was going to be sick. The lights of the town danced on the surface of the water, casting eerie shadows as the candle lights flickered. Was he really about to do this?

It felt like hours, but there was still some daylight left when they reached the shore. Sailors began vaulting easily out of the rowboats, led by Elijah and Blue. Luca followed, nearly falling flat on his face as he did so. He ran to catch up with the captain, already out of breath. He should have stayed on the ship. Why hadn’t he stayed on the ship?

They almost made it to the center of town before hell broke loose. Glass shattered, mixing with the cobblestone roads and reflecting the fire. Someone screamed, the crew of the Maria roared back, and somewhere a child started crying. Doors slammed, only to be forced open again. The rocks, bricks, and torches the townspeople threw were no match for the swords and sheer unbridled energy of the Maria’s crew. Luca was lost. With shaking hands he drew his sword, shielding his face against things he couldn’t see. The world was spinning, the screams, shouts, and cries piercing into his skull. Was it his heart beating hard enough to feel it in his bones, or were there drums? No, it had to be his heartbeat. Maybe he was going to die without anyone even touching him. 

Something large and on fire flew by him, narrowly missing his head. Some of the townspeople had taken to the streets, trying to defend their homes with everything they could. Through the dust, he could see Elijah, fighting a man with a red-hot pitchfork, a wild grin on her face. Shay leaped out of nowhere, hit the pommel of her sword into the top of the man’s head, grinned at Elijah, and then disappeared into the shadows again. Elijah looked around, then ducked inside the building next to her. 

A figure dressed all in black slipped through the door a moment before it closed behind her. Panic spiked in his chest and spurred him into action. He ran through the people, narrowly dodging improvised projectile weapons and almost stepping on a lit torch that had fallen from its holder, or perhaps been thrown. The door Elijah and the figure in black had gone through creaked when it opened and the firelight outside cast eerie shadows over the aged wooden floor.

Luca shut the door quickly behind him, breathing heavily as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. This was not a house; in the dim light, he could see a parlor-like room, with a fireplace surrounded by comfortable chairs atop a decorative rug. The desk set into the wall beside the fireplace was neat and comfortable, a pile of folders off to one side with one in front of the chair, ready for work the next day. If there was work the next day. If the person was still alive to come to work the next day and weren’t missing any of their limbs, and the building wasn’t burned to the ground, and their family was all okay and-

He cut himself off. They would be okay. Elijah had said no deaths. Where was Elijah? 

There. A door set into the far right wall. He moved as fast as he could, frantically searching for any sign of his captain, or the intruder who was neither townsman nor crew. He just caught a glimpse of the carved sign in front of the desk that read Town Hall before he went through the door, sword held out in front of him with shaking arms. His heartbeat in his throat, blood roaring in his ears. Surely whoever was in here could hear his breathing from wherever they were hiding. He was going to die without ever seeing his killer. He was sure of it. 

But the only thing behind the door was shelves. Rows and rows of shelves, filled with books, folders, papers, jars, scrolls, and things he couldn’t even identify. The only sounds were the muffled shouts and screams from the raid outside and his own breathing. 

Then he noticed a soft glow flickering from behind one of the shelves. Slowly, trying not to creak the floorboards as he moved, he crept over to the row. Summoning all his courage, he raised his sword and jumped around the corner. 

Elijah deflected his blade easily, knocking him to the ground. His breaths came in stuttering gasps as he cowered on the floor in front of her. 

“Care to explain yourself?” Her voice felt like a saw blade against his bones, jagged and rough. In all the time he’d been with Elijah’s crew, he had never seen her angry. Nothing like how she was now, standing above him, glaring. 

“I-”

“No. There is no explanation for attacking your captain. Why are you even in here? Shouldn’t you be outside, doing something useful? Instead of attempting a… whatever it is that you just tried?”

“No, I...” Luca’s words got stuck somewhere in his throat. Not that it mattered. Elijah ignored him completely. 

“This wasn’t a mutiny. If my crew wanted me dead, they wouldn’t send you to kill me. No, you’re on your own. Speak up! What, in the name of all things holy, are you doing?” 

“I...” Luca swallowed. “I don’t want you dead.” 

“Oh good,” Elijah said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “That’s a relief. Now I have nothing to worry about. But you didn’t answer my question. What are you doing?” 

“I thought you were someone else.”  He couldn’t meet her gaze. The floor, the shelves, the dusty cobwebs: he looked anywhere except his captain. Elijah breathed a quiet sigh.

“You thought I was one of the townspeople. Not treasonous then. Just stupid. Fine.” She flipped open the pocket watch attached to her belt. “We’ve been here long enough. It’s not here anyway. Come on. Back to the ship, then I’ll decide what to do with you.” 

He nodded, picking himself up from the floor shamefully. Elijah frowned at him and he flinched as if she’d hit him. 

“Have you done anything at all?”

“Pardon?”

“Broke something?”

He shook his head.

“Stolen something?”

He shook his head again. 

“Looted? Pillaged? Caused mayhem? Plundered?” 

“No.” Heat flooded his face again. All of a sudden, that knot in the floorboards between his feet seemed very interesting. 

Elijah sighed. “Do something before we get out of here. Take something. Break something. I don’t care. Just have something to show.” 

“Like what?”

“I don’t care. Whatever you want.”

With that, she began walking toward the exit. He followed hastily. He looked around quickly for something that seemed like a reasonable thing to steal, but he had a feeling the crew of the Manta Tide Maria wouldn’t care much for the dusty old books, or the jars of various specimens, rusted shut. 

“I won’t be able to keep Blue from rowing back to the Maria for long!” Elijah called from the other side of the doorway. 

He quickly left the archives, grabbed the closest thing to him, and suddenly realized what was going to happen a moment before it did. 

The figure in black was crouched atop the support beam on the ceiling, right behind Elijah. 

A lot of things happened at once. Luca shouted and ran for Elijah; the figure leaped nimbly down from the perch above them; and Elijah began to turn, a moment too late. Luca threw his blade up to parry the figure’s sword a fraction of a second before it made contact with Elijah. At the last moment, he remembered Elijahs’ words from the day before: “It’s not about not being moved; it’s about not letting me move you. Move on your own terms and then maybe you’ll stay on your feet longer than thirty seconds.”  He stepped back as their blades connected and for a moment, he saw the eyes of his attacker as their blades met close to the hilt: midnight blue with lighter electric streaks. 

Pain blossomed from his abdomen as the air was forced out of his lungs. The attacker shoved him back and he fell to the ground, his clothes already soaked with the blood leaking from around the small dagger buried up to its hilt in his stomach. The seconds he had bought Elijah were enough. Even with the seconds stretched out, their fight lasted only a few moments. Every breath for Luca took effort, the pause between heartbeats lasting longer each time. He had never seen that much blood. Who knew people could bleed this much?  

As if underwater, he heard a muffled shout of pain and a loud thump as the figure in black collapsed next to him, a deep gash in his neck and eyes already glazed over. Now it looked like he was underwater too. Everything was blurry: vague shapes and colors. Distantly, he felt Elijah’s shadow as she knelt next to him. 

“Luca. Luca, you need to get up. I can’t carry you like this. We need to get back to the Maria. Come on.” 

Elijah wrapped her arm around his waist and slowly, so slowly, they rose. Darkness crowded his vision as he stood, leaning heavily on her. Gravity seemed to increase; each step felt as if he had bricks tied to his feet. The effort dragged him down, pain rolling through him with every movement. 

They reached the door. Dimly, Luca realized that the noise outside had died down. Elijah paused in front of the closed door. 

“Stay with me, Luca. I need you to open that door. Can you reach the handle? Come on. We’re almost there.” 

Even with his brain full of fog, her words made no sense. It was an extreme effort of will to turn his head. Elijah’s other arm was pressed against her ribs, the blood leaking from between her fingers. The bones of her ribs were visible through the slice in her skin that she was holding closed as best she could while supporting the majority of his weight with her other hand. 

He gagged and vomited all over his shoes. Elijah’s face was ashen grey, but she kept her grip on him and, somehow, kept her voice steady. 

“Open the door, Luca. We’ll be alright.” 

When he opened his eyes, he immediately wished he hadn’t. Everything hurt; his head, his arms, his legs, and more than anything, his stomach. Sitting up nearly made him pass out again. He looked around the room as best he could. He was definitely on a ship; the familiar rocking motion of the ocean wasn’t helping his headache. He recognized the rows of herbs and medicines, the array of tools he had arranged a few days prior, and the oil lamps, burning low. 

The Maria, then. Specifically the medical cabin. On the table next to his cot sat a small dagger, maybe six inches in length, cleaned of his blood. 

The door opened and the ship’s doctor walked in. The daylight from outside made her a silhouette, and when she closed the door, the cabin seemed dark and gloomy. 

“Oh good, you're awake. How do you feel?” Lycinthia asked, moving the oil lamp to the nightstand. 

He groaned. “Like I got stabbed. What happened?”

She helped him sit up, propping him up with extra pillows. “I was hoping you could tell us. All we know is that you and the captain showed up, half dead and covered in blood. You were barely conscious when they saw you, and by the time you got to me, I thought we’d lost you for good. The cap’n was trying her best, but she was out too when she got to the ship. It was a right pain in the rear trying to keep you both alive at the same time, let me tell you.”

Panic spiked in his chest. “Is she alive? Is she okay?” 

Lycinthia held up a hand. “Easy. The more worked up you get, the more likely you’ll reopen that wound. Is she alive? Yes. Okay? Not really. But I believe she’ll make a full recovery. She’s got half this damn ship waiting on her hand and foot, and the other half asking a million questions a day about her.”

Luca frowned. “How long…”

“It’s been a little over two weeks. Longest two weeks of my life, I swear to god.” 

“I’ve been out for two weeks?” Luca cried.

“Calm down kid. You’ve been in and out of consciousness, but I don’t expect you to remember it. You had a little trouble with infection, but it’s all but gone away now, and your fever broke three days ago. Another week or two and you’ll be right as rain.” 

He swallowed. “Can I talk to Elijah?”

Lycinthia shook her head. “Not the captain. Not yet. But others will want to know you’re awake. I can get them now, or I can let you rest a little longer. Up to you.”

“Now is fine, I suppose.”

“Fine by me. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” She left the room, leaving him alone again. The bandages around his middle were clean and soft, but he still ached and he could feel the soreness every time he breathed. He smiled faintly to himself. Where did she think he was going to go? He could barely sit up by himself, let alone walk. 

The door opened again and Lycinthia entered, followed by Blue and Shay. Blue pulled up a chair next to his cot. Shay remained standing. 

“It’s good to see you awake.” Blue’s face was unreadable, as always. 

“How’s the Captain?” Luca’s voice was dry and raspy. He swallowed several times, but to no avail. 

Shay’s expression didn’t change. “She’ll be fine. She’s lost a lot of blood. Getting you back here took a lot out of her, but she’ll make it. The infection’s mostly cleared and she’s coming to a little more frequently. If anyone could survive that, it’s her.” 

“What can you tell me about this?” Blue held up a blood-soaked folder. Written in neat writing across the top, the ink slightly smudged, were the words Tax Files. He recognized it as the same folder he had taken from the town hall. From the look of it, it had acted as an impromptu bandage for the wound in his stomach. 

“Well. It looks like tax files.” 

“It does?” Blue said, raising an eyebrow. 

“No. It looks like a folder that would contain tax files. Minus the blood, obviously.” 

“Hmm. It does, doesn’t it? Where did you find this?”

Luca looked from Blue to Shay and back again. They knew something he didn’t, but he couldn’t for the life of him fathom what it was. Were they mad at him for taking such a useless item, his only other thing to show for the raid that nearly killed himself and his captain? That must be at least part of it. Were they going to kick him off the ship? Where would he go? Oh god. What were they going to do to him? 

“Ahem. Luca?” Shay prodded gently. 

He snapped back to the present. “Sorry. It was in the town hall. On a desk. Elijah told me I had to get something so I took the closest thing to me before… well, that’s as far as I got.” 

“Did you know what was inside of it?”

“...Tax files?” 

Blue laughed abruptly. “I’m going to take that as a no.” The first mate opened the folder. There were several sheets of paper, all blood-soaked and completely unreadable. At the back of the folder, folded up and hidden, was an older, weathered piece of paper. Blue pulled it out, handing the rest to Shay. 

“...What is that?” 

Blue silently unfolded the paper. He was looking at an old map, worn around the edges and faded in some places, but more or less intact. She handed it to him. He didn’t recognize any of the places on the map. Not even the names of the oceans. 

“This is why we were in Askwald. Elijah has spent the better part of her adult years looking for this, and somehow you found it on your first raid. This is a map to the Isles of Actaeon.”

The name sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember where he had heard it before. “Remind me what those are again?”

“Good lord. I suppose you don’t have any additional information for us, then. The Isles of Actaeon are the site of one of the last big heists left to modern-day pirates. Legend has it that there is a cave system connecting the islands underwater. If you believe the stories, those caves also contain treasures untold.”

“The caves are supposed to be filled with marvelous riches, “ Shay interjected, “like nothing anyone has ever seen before. Anyone who got their hands on it would be set for life. Them and their entire crew.” 

“If you believe the stories,” Blue repeated. “More people than I care to count have died trying to find them. And none have ever succeeded. Most sailors have given it up as a ghost story by now.” 

“A ghost story?” Luca asked. “How come no one has ever been able to find the islands? I thought the Royal Navy had mapped every inch of the world by now.” 

“They have,” Blue said. “That’s why so many people have given up; none of those maps show the Isles of Actaeon. Not one. Every island, every continent, every sandbar has been searched top to bottom. They’re just not there. There’s one particular version of the story that Elijah likes, the one that mentions a map, hidden somewhere. As far as I know, this is the closest anyone's ever gotten to actually finding the Isles.” Blue said

“But why do they call it a ghost story?”

Blue sighed. “In the most common variations of the story, the Isles are cursed. Some believe the islands themself are cursed, so that they can never be found. Others think that the spirits of those who originally hid the treasure there are cursed to guard it forever for their selfishness.”

“And which one do you believe in?”

“I believe Elijah is the smartest person I’ve ever met. I would follow her to the ends of the earth if that's where she chose to go. If she says we’re going to the Isles of Actaeon, then that's where we're going, ghosts and curses be damned.” 

“I think it's the spirits,” Shay said. “That makes the most sense. The real question is can they be killed, and if they can’t, can they be contained?”
He looked back at the map. The islands pictured didn’t look like anything special; just green-grey blobs in a sea of faded blue.

“Why tell me all of this?” 

Blue frowned. “That's a good question, actually. Why are we explaining all of this to him? Why not let someone else do it after Elijah finds a heading?” 

“Because,” Shay sighed as if explaining something for the millionth time, “Elijah told us to. You’ve got a good eye, and you ask the right questions…usually. Besides, maybe you’re lucky. After all, you found something people have been killing each other over for decades by accident. Maybe you can do it again.”

Blue nodded absentmindedly. “When Elijah recovers more, that’s our next major stop. Anything else? Or can we be on our way?”

He shook his head and the Blue stood up, taking the map from him. 

“I have to get back to Elijah, and Blue has a ship to run. Get some rest, Luca. We’ll need you again before this is over.” Shay left, followed by Blue, leaving him with a head full of thoughts. Lycinthya brought him a bowl of broth before leaving him alone. 

When he slept again, his dreams were made of old islands with crumbling ruins, reclaimed by nature, and a winding labyrinth of caves, their walls sparkling with uncut precious gems and bioluminescent plants, gold coins dotting the floor. He could almost smell the earth, and feel the unnatural breeze coming from the wrong side of the caves. Voices whispered in his ear, urging him back to the sea, back to the ship.
In his dreams, he walked through islands not meant to be found. When he woke, he began the tedious task of repairing his weapons and armor. Whatever was coming, he was going to be ready.