anchor and loosed the sails. Verrick took the helm, and the three young pirates had a moment alone to talk.
“What the devil is going on here?” Ronan whispered. “You’re a prince now?”
Dean nodded toward Verrick. “As far as he knows, yes.”
Ronan leaned in closer to Dean. “What do you think you’re doing? We can’t sail off with these men. We have to square things with One-Eyed Jack.”
“I already did that. He gave us a chance to make things right.”
“He did?”
Dean shrugged. “In his own way, yes. All we have to do is cover the loss of the
Reckless
and pay the monthly tribute.”
Ronan bit his lip. “Did he give us any more time?”
“No,” Rook replied. “Payment’s due by week’s end.”
Ronan’s eyes went wide. “Is he mad?” He looked at Dean, who confirmed the deadline, and One-Eyed Jack’s madness, with a casual nod. “How are we going to get that much loot in a single week? And why do you look so calm? What are we doing with these men? Where are we going?”
Dean took a breath. He could hardly believe what he was about to say:
“Zenhala.”
Ronan did a double take at Dean.
“Zenhala?”
He looked at Verrick and his men as they prepared to set sail. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m dead serious, Ronan. One-Eyed Jack said if we can deliver the gold of Zenhala, we’re out of his pocket for good. You, me, and the rest of the Pirate Youth. The whole lot of us—free. How’s that strike you?”
Ronan looked at Dean like a fool who didn’t know the port side from the starboard. “You told One-Eyed Jack that we were going to bring him back the golden harvest of Zenhala? You call that a chance to make things right?”
“Unless you’ve got a better idea.”
Ronan bit his lip and turned his back on Dean. He looked up at the heavens and shook his head in disbelief. “I do have one idea.” Ronan spun around and punched Dean square in the nose. “How’s
that
strike you?”
It took three of Verrick’s men to separate Ronan and Dean. Rook cackled with glee as the two of them went at each other. He did nothing to interfere. When the fight was over, Verrick didn’t know if he should tie Ronan back to the mast or throw him overboard. “Are you sure you want this one with us, Your Grace? It doesn’t bode well that you should need protection from your protection.”
Dean massaged his aching nose. It hurt, but it wasn’t broken. “We’re fine,” he told Verrick. “Just a little disagreement between friends. Isn’t that right, Ronan?”
Ronan snorted as Verrick’s men held him fast. “Aye, Captain. Friends to the end.”
Verrick put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “If this is how you are among friends, I’d hate to meet your enemies.”
Dean let out a nervous laugh. “You can say that again.”
• • •
The
Tideturner
sailed all day and through the night. The next morning, Dean woke up with the sun and found that most of Verrick’s men were still asleep. A full day’s journey into the Bermuda Triangle, and all hands on deck were snoring loud and resting easy. So far, no one on board had given Dean any reason to believe they were the con men that he first took them to be.
Could they really be from Zenhala? Do they really think I’m their prince?
Dean spotted Ronan at the bow of the ship, whittling away at a small piece of wood. He joined him there and looked out on the horizon in silence. Not a word had passed between them since their fight the previous morning. The tension was as thick as the fog clouds up ahead. Dean wanted to clear the air before they went any further.
“Look what I found below deck,” Dean said, holding up a kiteboard and sail from the
Santa Clara
raid. “They must have brought it on board with the rest of us.”
Ronan barely looked up from his woodwork. “Lucky. You can use that to jump ship when it’s time to cut your losses here.”
Dean grimaced and set down the kiteboarding rig. “You’re not going to
“What the devil is going on here?” Ronan whispered. “You’re a prince now?”
Dean nodded toward Verrick. “As far as he knows, yes.”
Ronan leaned in closer to Dean. “What do you think you’re doing? We can’t sail off with these men. We have to square things with One-Eyed Jack.”
“I already did that. He gave us a chance to make things right.”
“He did?”
Dean shrugged. “In his own way, yes. All we have to do is cover the loss of the
Reckless
and pay the monthly tribute.”
Ronan bit his lip. “Did he give us any more time?”
“No,” Rook replied. “Payment’s due by week’s end.”
Ronan’s eyes went wide. “Is he mad?” He looked at Dean, who confirmed the deadline, and One-Eyed Jack’s madness, with a casual nod. “How are we going to get that much loot in a single week? And why do you look so calm? What are we doing with these men? Where are we going?”
Dean took a breath. He could hardly believe what he was about to say:
“Zenhala.”
Ronan did a double take at Dean.
“Zenhala?”
He looked at Verrick and his men as they prepared to set sail. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m dead serious, Ronan. One-Eyed Jack said if we can deliver the gold of Zenhala, we’re out of his pocket for good. You, me, and the rest of the Pirate Youth. The whole lot of us—free. How’s that strike you?”
Ronan looked at Dean like a fool who didn’t know the port side from the starboard. “You told One-Eyed Jack that we were going to bring him back the golden harvest of Zenhala? You call that a chance to make things right?”
“Unless you’ve got a better idea.”
Ronan bit his lip and turned his back on Dean. He looked up at the heavens and shook his head in disbelief. “I do have one idea.” Ronan spun around and punched Dean square in the nose. “How’s
that
strike you?”
It took three of Verrick’s men to separate Ronan and Dean. Rook cackled with glee as the two of them went at each other. He did nothing to interfere. When the fight was over, Verrick didn’t know if he should tie Ronan back to the mast or throw him overboard. “Are you sure you want this one with us, Your Grace? It doesn’t bode well that you should need protection from your protection.”
Dean massaged his aching nose. It hurt, but it wasn’t broken. “We’re fine,” he told Verrick. “Just a little disagreement between friends. Isn’t that right, Ronan?”
Ronan snorted as Verrick’s men held him fast. “Aye, Captain. Friends to the end.”
Verrick put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “If this is how you are among friends, I’d hate to meet your enemies.”
Dean let out a nervous laugh. “You can say that again.”
• • •
The
Tideturner
sailed all day and through the night. The next morning, Dean woke up with the sun and found that most of Verrick’s men were still asleep. A full day’s journey into the Bermuda Triangle, and all hands on deck were snoring loud and resting easy. So far, no one on board had given Dean any reason to believe they were the con men that he first took them to be.
Could they really be from Zenhala? Do they really think I’m their prince?
Dean spotted Ronan at the bow of the ship, whittling away at a small piece of wood. He joined him there and looked out on the horizon in silence. Not a word had passed between them since their fight the previous morning. The tension was as thick as the fog clouds up ahead. Dean wanted to clear the air before they went any further.
“Look what I found below deck,” Dean said, holding up a kiteboard and sail from the
Santa Clara
raid. “They must have brought it on board with the rest of us.”
Ronan barely looked up from his woodwork. “Lucky. You can use that to jump ship when it’s time to cut your losses here.”
Dean grimaced and set down the kiteboarding rig. “You’re not going to
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