“Captain!” she called, running to the helm. “He’s gaining!”
“Never!” Abe said. “Not in that lumbering monster!”
Cooper went to the side and looked through the spyglass. She studied the view for a long moment, and when she turned back to the helm, her expression was thoughtful. “Blane’s never played by the same rules as the rest of us. He expects to chase us down and have his way with us like one of his port whores. That’s it, then. We’ll have to do what he doesn’t expect.” She had a gleam in her eyes when she turned back to the deck. “Tennant!” she shouted.
“Not yet!” he called back. Jill wanted to scream.
“You’ve no more time, lad!” she said. “He wants a fight, we’ll ram it down his throat. Tadpole, you still up for it?”
“Aye,” Jill breathed.
“We’re not going to wait for him, we’re going to put ourselves in his lap before he knows we’re coming and take the wind from him,” the captain said. “Man the cannons! Not you, Tennant.”
The thunder and chaos of a ship preparing for battle began.
Even with the sword ready, Jill wouldn’t have anything to do until the real battle began. In order to fight Blane, the ships would have to draw up alongside each other. She’d have to board the Heart’s Revenge. With all the cannon fire and fighting, she might not ever reach Blane to fight him.
She climbed back into the rigging to take up the watch again as the battle approached.
“Hoist the colors!”
There was Henry, running the black flag on its line up the mainmast. The skull on it seemed to grin.
“And ready the cannons!”
From on high, Jill looked back at the Heart’s Revenge. It had seemed to stall, but that may have only been because the Diana had changed direction and the two ships were now circling each other, keeping their distance. The shore of the distant island slipped by, showing that they really were moving.
Abe shouted into the rigging; Jill barely heard him. It was newly learned habits that told her what to do to put the sails in place. The ship heeled and turned, leaving off tacking and putting the wind full behind it. The Diana jumped and lurched, spray flying up past the hull and into the rigging as if the ship itself were eager.
Cooper was steering them into place for a broadside. They only needed to get within range. The slots in the sides opened; the cannons rolled forward.
The Heart’s Revenge’s cannons were more powerful, with a longer range, and they fired first. But the Diana had stayed pointed toward the enemy, offering a slender profile. The shots hit wide and splashed into the water. Abe called orders, spun the wheel, the Diana heaved over, and Cooper gave the order
to fire. While the Heart’s Revenge reloaded, the Diana sailed within her own range. Explosions roared, and the air filled with the smoke of burned powder.
Jill was helpless. She could only wait and hope that the Diana wasn’t destroyed before they got close enough to board. That was Cooper’s plan, she could see: Dodge cannon fire. Get within range. Make boarding the only possibility. Ram the fight down Blane’s throat.
“Captain, it’s done!” That was Tennant’s cry. Jill raced down the lines to the deck, coughing through the smoke.
On deck, she found Cooper and Tennant standing together. Tennant held a now-whole sword in both hands. Even amidst the smoke from the cannons, it shone silver and powerful. The blacksmith set it in the captain’s waiting hands. She looked it up and down, studying it, smiling faintly. “The red in it’s gone, do you see that?”
She was right; the bloody sheen had disappeared. Maybe they’d destroyed the curse, claimed the sword for their own.
“You’ve done a very fine job,” Cooper said.
“I shouldn’t have been able to do it all,” Tennant said. “I didn’t have the right heat, the right tools—but it’s like it wanted to be whole again. It wanted to be mended.”
“Blood magic,” the captain whispered.
Jill would hold this newly made sword and know how to get home—she knew it. “Captain,” Jill said, sounding a little too desperate.
Cooper frowned; her hand moved to the grip, tightened. Thinking of the past, perhaps. Of what she could do with the power of the sword—of taking her revenge on Blane. And Jill didn’t think she could blame Cooper if the captain decided to take on Blane herself, whether or not Jill lost her way home.
But the moment passed, and Captain Cooper held the sword, grip first, to Jill. “We’re going to need every blade we have, won’t we?”
Jill took the weapon, one hand on the hilt, other hand careful of the sharpened edge. She couldn’t find where the break had been. The blade was healed, extending long and unbroken to a deadly point. The engravings were gone, hammered clean by Tennant’s work. The sword was smooth, fresh, reborn. It sat heavy in her hands, but balanced. Dangerous. Her arm felt powerful, holding it—like the tingle she’d felt when she first found the shard, but more. She couldn’t tell if the power came from the blade, or from the knowledge that she held an extraordinary sword.
But the whisper of power remained a whisper, and the only message she got from it—Blane had to be defeated.