Falling For The First Mate

Chapter 9

Evanora and Pearl sat awkwardly on the three-legged stools of the galley as the rest of the crew raced about above deck, screaming insults and fearing for their lives. As much as Evanora was trying to figure out everything she had just learned, the atmosphere of panic had pushed its way to the forefront of her mind.

There was no doubt about it; whatever approached them was going to warrant a fight.

“Pearl, what will happen when that other ship catches up with us?” she demanded, wincing as a barrel of thick, viscous liquid toppled from the surface and oozed its contents all over the floor.

“Oh, don’t be worryin’ yerself over that, miss. It’s probably just some lousy traders. Cap’n Silvestre knows how to deal with them- ye’ just shoot ‘em and bugger off wi’ their crew.” Pearl replied.

In her lap sat Herbert, hence the fact that Evanora was positioned as far away from her as possible. The rat squeaked in fear as a barnacle fell from the ceiling and landed right on its filthy little head.

Evanora wasn’t convinced by Pearl’s reply.

“So why did I hear Eric say we were under attack?” she demanded. “Why did they mention a ship called the Whisper?”

The colour in Pearl’s face drained like water from a bathtub.

“When did ye’ hear that?” she asked.

“I heard it just now, when those scary creeps Drago and Grimme were filling me in on the nightmare that is my life.”

Pearl looked so afraid that it shook them both. Herbert jumped from her lap, perhaps preferring the rocking of the ship to the shaking of her hands, and hid away under a rotting cupboard door.

“Well, if they be right then we’re in fer trouble. One of the Unfortunates died at port the night First Mate Skyler saved yer skin. Then there’s Cap’n Silvestre, of course. But the Hangman’s Whisper be the ship of the other Unfortunate left alive.” Pearl’s voice wavered as she finished her sentence.

“But why would he want to attack us?”

“Well, miss, the crew be tellin’ me that ye’ weren’t the only thing Kade Skyler picked up when he went to port. They say he has a map, and that it be worth dyin’ for.”

As everything focused into a dreadful clarity in her mind, Evanora squeezed her eyes shut tight.

"They want the map.” she whispered.

“Aye.”

Almost as soon as the word left the cook’s lips, a massive object passed in front of the porthole windows, cutting off the light and casting the room into dreadful shadow. The deck above them went silent; the only audible sound was the creaking of wood and the laboured breathing of numerous crew members.

That silence was the calm before the storm.

Crash!

         

Evanora had been told on countless occasions that just before a horrific occurrence time seems to move in slow motion. Yet right then, as the first of the offensive cannonballs smashed into the side of the boat and punctured the wall, she realised that they were wrong.

Time doesn’t move in slow motion at all, you just see everything.

Splinters and shards flew like jagged darts and skewered the surrounding walls. Spikes of wood wedged beneath skin. Both Evanora and Pearl attempted to dodge the attack and dived for cover onto the floor, which was soon as ripped and gnarled as the rest of the room.The wall closest to the Hangman’s Whisper simply did not exist anymore; all that remained was a giant gaping hole where the cannonball had hit, an entrance to the sea spray and biting cold air.