Venture to Uncertainty (#1)

06 | The Forecast of Uncertainty

The sky was dark when Archer ventured back out onto the deck, but the chanting was loud and clear from behind him. He'd been in there less than an hour and had seen at least four bloody brawls. He couldn't stand it a second longer.

For a moment, he had the luxury of forgetting where he was until the moonlight reflected off the bloody sails, whispering him a reminder. The crew seemed so normal, so ordinary in comparison to what he'd expected. With a few exceptions, they didn't quite seem vicious or deadly or any of the things they'd been called.

Archer looked around for the scout, but it appeared the deck was dark. He didn't think the Avourienne would be so careless.

"Wondering why we've got no scout?"

He looked over to see Lyra Tailsley leaving the common room. She'd been one of the pirates in on the fights, and she grinned with a mouthful of blood when she talked.

"Yes, actually," he replied, wondering how she'd managed to pinpoint his thoughts.

"The Avourienne don't need a scout at nighttime. We're pretty much invisible once the sun sets," she said, joining him at the rail.

Archer nodded slowly. Orphano didn't get news like other islands, but even so, they'd heard stories of the Avourienne—a ghost ship at heart, invisible against the backdrop of the dark sky. He wondered if it were truly magic or just a trick of good craftsmanship.

Watching this new person, he tried to place her in Farley's account. According to his mentor, Tailsley was somewhat of a pity addition to the crew after her father's ship was attacked. Knowing both her father and the ship she'd called home were sinking, she snuck onto the Avourienne, hoping she could play stowaway to the nearest port. She was found within minutes, but Bardarian saw potential in her incredible ability to sneak around.

"This morning, with the mercy shot," Lyra said, "that was ballsy. Thought for sure Silta'd toss you right over the rails."

Archer felt himself nodding again, but the last thing he wanted to talk about was Jeanne. Reluctant to seem weak, he feigned nonchalance and shifted to look at her. "Who did you kill to get here?"

She didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable by the question. "My father—cap of the last pirate ship I was on. I been pickpocketing from sailors since I knew what the word meant. Nearly seven years ago, can you believe that? I was a lot younger than you—probably sixteen or somethin'. I loved the man because he was my father, but he ain't have nothin' else going for him."

"Did you have trouble fitting in at first?" he asked.

She laughed, obnoxious at the same time as it was tentative. "Well, I was the youngest at the time and the only girl in combat, so you can take your guesses. Our doctor's a girl, too, but she's an old friend of Bardarian's, so she ain't get the shit I did back then."

Archer scanned the water on the horizon. "What changed?"

Lyra shrugged. "When Silta came on, no one gave her any shit, and I realized why. Pirates pick on the weak. If you ain't act weak, you ain't get picked on. Throw just one punch—show you ain't the victim, they stay outta your way."

"So Silta came on after you, then?" he asked.

Lyra grinned. "Yeah, she did. She was, what? Eighteen? Six years ago now, I guess."

So he'd guessed her age right. "And who did she kill?"

"No one," Lyra replied. "Girl got on the ship the way she does everything else." She shrugged. "Mind games."

Archer leaned forward, urging her to continue the story.

She laughed at his reaction, a simple, comforting sound. She took a breath and spoke, "Well, Silta comes from Canale, a Siren island. Bardarian has a deal with the Siren Queen—she stay out of his way, he stay out of hers—but Canale was a resistance, so they attacked the Avourienne anyway. Did a damn good job of it, too. I remember spending weeks down there in a musty cell, starving out of my mind. Anyway, Bardarian and Silta ended up strikin' a deal. She get him off the island, get his ship back, and he takes her along."