Sea of Treason (Pirate's Bluff Book 1) by Stacey Trombley

Author:Stacey Trombley [Trombley, Stacey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: pirate fantasy
Publisher: Stacey Trombley
Published: 2019-07-24T16:00:00+00:00

Whitley

I ignore the dagger in my heart as I lead Bluff to the eastern most bank of the Hudson River. Waves shift quietly in the darkness. Everything is still this time of night. There is no sound but the soft rush of the waves pushing against the piles of stone. The only light visible from here is a lighthouse far in the distance, and a few lanterns somewhere over the water.

"Well?" Bluff asks as we stand there with no sign of life anywhere.

I take a few more steps until I'm standing just over a hole in the ground. It leads to an old underground canal. Sudden shuffling below assures me my hunch was right—they're here, just hiding.

I lean down to the hole. It's too dark to see anything, but little noises sound from below: a whisper, followed by a sudden hush, a shift and a grunt, the scattering of pebbles.

"Hello," I say.

Bluff joins me, leaning down over the hole. "Hey, lads, know where we can barter for a ship? We have some business."

"What kind of business?" a little voice calls up at us.

"Hush!" another voice reprimands.

"What?" the little voice yelps. "I want to eat today, okay?"

"Yeah, well, you want to be locked up to do it? You see that lady's dress? She ain't here for no business."

"But we are!" I call.

"We're on the run," Bluff jumps in. "We have some bad men after us, and we need to reach our friends in the harbor, but we'll need a ship to do it. We heard you could help."

More scuffling from beneath our feet. I find myself wondering how many kids are down there, and how bad they smell. I wrinkle my nose.

"Yeah, right. I can tell an eloping couple from a true runway, any day."

Bluff jerks his head back, gripping the stone beside the hole like he'll break it. "I wouldn't touch this lass with a ten-foot pole," he spits.

I hold back a scoff at that. If they need to believe there is nothing between us to help, I need to not give away my feelings. Though his words are acid in my veins.

"She's too pretty. No way she's a runaway," an older voice says, eyes peeking up closer than the others.

"Doesn't even have any bruises!" a high-pitched voice calls.

I hold out my arm to them, to show the finger marks Mr. Robinson left. "I've got a nice bump on my head as well," I say.

Bluff's eyes linger on the dark spot in my forearm. Guess he hadn't noticed that.

"That don't prove nothin'."

"Who told you about us anyway? You bring her here, bloke? Who do you know?"

Bluff's eyes meet mine.

"Charlie," I squeal out.

"There are twelve Charlies down here, miss. Don't mean nothing."

"Don't call her miss, she didn't do nothing to deserve respect."

"Knickerbocker, that's what he went by, once he joined." I'd almost forgotten that part, but he told us all about it one day it was raining too hard to play ball, so we sat around playing truth or dare. That was the day I learned about the child gang on the Hudson.

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