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“What do we do if they come ashore?” asked Riella. “There are dozens of them.”
“We have two choices. We can set off in the rowboat, hoping we make it beyond their reach before they can pursue us. Or, we stay and fight.”
Riella knew the choice was only the illusion of one. Even with her and Jarin’s combined strength, a rowboat would never outpace a schooner.
“We’ll fight,” she said decisively. “I won’t paddle away in fear, only to be captured again when they give chase. I never want to be captured again in my life.”
Jarin had his cutlass, and she could wield one or both oars. They would be at a hefty disadvantage, but that had never stopped a siren before.
But, in the end, a fight wasn’t necessary, because the vessel continued without turning toward them. Eventually, it sailed from view altogether.
“Let’s wait before leaving,” said Jarin. “To make sure he’s not coming back.”
The pair tramped through the jungle to the other side, to ensure Artus had indeed passed by. When the horizon remained clear, Riella and Jarin pushed the rowboat to the water and began their long return journey.
“We got lucky,” said Jarin as he heaved the oars. “But it’s only a matter of time before he finds us.”
Riella nodded. “Let’s go straight to the ship and help with the repairs. The sooner we can leave, the better.”
Upon their return, they steered the rowboat to the Pandora, climbing the ropes to board the great vessel. Ulyss and Berolt and the crew were hard at work repairing the hull, sweaty and red-faced in the afternoon sun. Anchored just offshore, the Pandora swayed gently with the nudge of the tide.
“He’s on our tail,” said Jarin to Berolt with a grimace. “Artus. He’s scanning the seas for us.”
Berolt put his hands on his hips, puffing. “Well, we’ll be on our way soon. The hull is patched, we just need to reinforce it.”
Itching to help, Riella carried planks of wood and tools down to the bilge. Seeing Artus’s ship had reminded her that Polinth wasn’t necessarily her most immediate threat.
On her way back upstairs, she ran into Drue.
The boy moved stiffly, but his face had more color than the last time she’d seen him.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
Drue shrugged. “Heaps better. I’m not good for hard labor, but I can prepare the rigging.”
He patted the coil of rope he was carrying.
Riella brightened. “Can you show me?” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “I’d never say this to any other pirate, in case it made them feel good, but the way they climb the rigging is quite impressive. They remind me of land-crabs on webs. Now that I have legs, I want to learn how.”
The cabin boy nodded along, frowning slightly. “Right. Webs. Do you mean spiders?”
“Yes! Land-crabs.”
Drue chuckled. “Alright, sure. I can show you.”
She took the rope and followed his instructions, which he issued with complete patience, even when she dropped the main sail from a great height and he had to dive out of the way, lest he was killed.
“Sorry!” she called down, gripping the main mast, which creaked in the salty breeze.
“It’s alright.”
He continued his instructions, except from several paces back.
The other pirates scowled at her as she worked, but Riella ignored them. She spent hours on the rigging, until she felt confident with the basic methods of sailing.
“How long have you been with the Dark Tide?” asked Riella when she was back on deck, helping Drue roll up a sail.
“Less than a year,” he replied.
