The Iron Kingdoms Chronicles : The Privateers I : Watery Graves by Jackson Chris A

Author:Jackson, Chris A.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Skull Island eXpeditions
Published: 2016-11-27T00:00:00+00:00

— Chapter 15 —

STORM CURSED

SHAE SNAPPED AWAKE, UNAWARE for a moment where he was or what had awoken him. Pain lanced through his neck as he bolted upright, and immediately he remembered. He’d fallen asleep in a chair beside Hawk’s bunk. His neck hurt because his head had rolled forward. Hawk slept propped up on a bolster, breathing in shallow, sharp gasps, her pale forehead beaded with sweat. But if she hadn’t awoken him. . .

A tap at the door told him the answer. A quick check told him it wasn’t time to take his watch on deck, so it must be some other matter. He got up and answered the door, opening it slowly to keep from waking Hawk. A miserable-looking sea dog stood there, wringing his hat in his hands.

“Sorry to disturb you, sir, but Master Walls sent me to fetch you. We raised an island. It’s not on the chart, and somethin’ ain’t right about it.”

“What’s not—?” Shae stopped himself from asking a question the sea dog probably couldn’t answer.

Instead, he roused his arcane link to his warjacks. Since he’d been spending most of his off-watches here, he’d stationed Boots, Tick, and Pike fore, mid, and aft to give him eyes all around without the inconvenience of having to go on deck. Dawn’s first light illuminated the eastern horizon, and a deeper darkness loomed to the southeast, dead ahead. He directed Boots’ eyes into that darkness and saw a mountainous peak thrusting up from the mist. A heavy squall line completely obscured the lower reaches of the island. Lightning flashed low, illuminating the cloudbank from within and the mountain above.

You’ll know it by the storm, he remembered from his conversation with Grayfenn. They had arrived at the mysterious pirates’ island, right where the old merchant captain had said it would be, despite its absence from the charts. He also remembered the supposed curse these pirates were under, though he’d kept that bit of information to himself. He didn’t need superstitious sailors telling tales.

He looked over his shoulder at Hawk. He’d barely left her side for the four days since she’d been shot, even though she did little but sleep and sip tepid broth and willow bark tea to keep her fever down. She seemed to be resting, but he was still loath to leave her. He liked to think that seeing him there when she woke improved her spirits, but she usually just told him to quit fussing and get back to his job. There was no helping it now. He had to attend his duties, but he’d be damned if he’d leave her here alone.

“You sit in that chair and watch her,” he ordered the sea dog. “If she wakes up and wants something, you get it. If she starts coughing or seems in trouble, you get Doc and me. You understand?”

“Yes, sir.” the sea dog looked nervously at the sleeping first mate. “Hawk gonna be okay, sir?”

“She’ll be fine if we all do our jobs. Now have a seat.

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