It was dark in the brig, with only an iron grate above to let in the moonlight from above, and a distant torch beyond the mildewing wood and corroding iron bars in the window. The sea-spray somehow kept finding a way into the small wooden room, leaving Elodie’s clothes soaked through and her hair plastered to her skin. 

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, arms bound behind her back in iron manacles and the chain locked around the pole in the middle of the room. There wasn’t enough give for her stand, and she would not have trusted her legs to do so anyway. 

She was on the Sea of Gales for the first time, as the ship skipped on the small sea-breezes just above the waves, and she could not even enjoy it for being a prisoner of the Black-Sail Fleet. How long had she looked out from the shipyard and wondered what it would like to sail on the high seas and low winds, as her mother had? How long since she’d started looking for Captain Jennings’ ship, had she started to wish for a chance to find out for herself?

Well, she’d gotten it, and in doing so had opening up a whole new world of trouble. Would the servants continue to hide her mother’s absence? Or would they report it all straight to her grandfather? Would she even have a home to return to or worry about losing, given all the ransacking and arson?

In the quiet of the brig, she could do nothing else but think.

Even sleep eluded her, in the horrid discomfort of the position she had been left in. 

Still, the night moved. And she was distinctly aware that the moonlight was fading by the time she saw a face peer through the iron bars of the small window. She was pretty sure her visitor was a man, although his features were still mostly cast in shadow by the lack of light.

What the dim firelight had managed to illuminate, however, were his eyes. They were blue-green, or perhaps a grayish-teal. Elodie remembered seeing a bolt of taffeta that color, a potential choice for her debut gown. How that seemed like years ago now! 

As soon as those eyes met hers, she looked away. She wouldn’t give the pirates the satisfaction of watching her like a caged animal. 

Still, her curiosity got the better of her, and when she looked back, the face was gone.

Well, that was for the better, wasn’t it? Besides, with her soaked white nightgown, who knew what one of the lecherous bastards was really looking at? She’d heard about the reports in the papers, like that poor Cartagenan girl who had been kept captive for months aboard one of these ships. Even her mother had mentioned that she dressed as a man initially to keep the wandering hands and eyes of such untoward men off of her. 

Elodie tried testing the manacles again—nothing, as expected. She heaved a sigh and looked up. The sky was starting to lighten—it would be dawn soon. She wondered where they were going, where the Foxtrot would be taking her exactly. 

Captain Reynard had made his intentions clear, that he’d be taking her to the mysterious Pirate King to lure out her mother and make a bid for her father’s greatest treasure. But a more explicit location would have been nice. 

Her attention was drawn away from the dawn by the sound of footsteps coming close. 

Is someone else coming?

Her unvoiced question was answered by the sound of metal clanking together, a jiggling of a lock and key. The door creaked open, revealing a boy of about Elodie’s age. She recognized the teal-gray eyes from earlier, he was the one who had been gaping in at her.

Well, she wouldn’t dignify his intrusion with a reaction. She averted her gaze, turning away and hoping maybe he would go away. 

No such luck, however. Instead, he came closer, only to stop when his boots hit the standing water in the center of the room. 

Elodie couldn’t help herself, she looked back to him, confused more than anything else. He hadn’t said anything still, and his expression was as unfathomable as the sea. He then removed his gray jacket, with a few carefully-sewn patches and the occasional dark stain on the sleeve. He took a few tentative steps toward her, then slowly lowered the jacket onto her shoulders. 

Oh. 

He’d been trying to help her. 

Elodie had to admit, she did appreciate the warmth and the coverage from the eyes of others. 

He crouched beside her, making very careful and deliberate eye contact. “My name’s Ventus. I’m going to get you out of here.” 

She was surprised that a pirate boy in with rough men had such a soft voice. He was pleasant to listen to, unlike Reynard and his men had been earlier in the night. 

“Oh, I’m Elodie.”

“I know.” He stood up and pulled a set of keys off of his belt. Without another word he got to work, pulling a key and undoing the padlock that had kept her low to the ground and stuck to the pole. 

He then knelt behind her again and unbound her hands. 

She immediately pulled them to the front and had to adjust the jacket over her shoulders. 

“Don’t get too comfortable, to get you above the decks without suspicion, I’ll have to tie them back again.” He offered her a hand. “Need help standing?”

“No, I’m fine.” Elodie moved to stand, only to realize she could not entirely feel her legs between the rhythm of the ship hitting the waves due to the low winds, and sitting on them for so long. 

Before she could collapse to the ground again, Ventus caught her by the shoulders. “Easy now.” 

Elodie closed her eyes, focusing on the feeling of the ground beneath her once again. She only opened her eyes when she felt as if she weren’t about to fall over anymore. She looked up to Ventus and gave a little nod. 

“We’re good then?” He let go of her, and thankfully for her pride, Elodie did not fall over this time. 

Having to be rescued was terribly embarrassing enough as is.

With that, he drew rope from a pocket formed by the fold of a scarf wrapped around his waistband. 

Right. He’d mentioned that part, to sell the disguise to get her off the ship or something like that. Still, she wasn’t exactly keen on a plan that left her just as helpless as before.

The hesitation must’ve been clear on her face, for Ventus spoke: “You don’t trust me, do you?”

He paused. “Stupid question, I wouldn’t either.”

He raised a free hand over his heart. “I swear on my honor as a son of the Hawkins family that you will not come to any harm from this plan.” He paused, tilting his head. “You would know the Hawkins name, right?”

“You mean the merchant family in Yorkhaven?” Elodie frowned. “Of course, Mrs. Hawkins’ parties are legendary.” 

“Oh, good.” Ventus visibly relaxed. “So I hope that does mean something to you.” 

“I guess it does.” Besides, it wasn’t like she had any better plans. “Guess we’d better get on with it then, before anyone else finds us.”

She turned around and placed her hands behind her back. Ventus luckily caught his jacket again and re-adjusted it over her shoulders once more.

“You know, if you wanted to just get me to come to see the captain or something of that sort, I suppose you wouldn’t have had to put all of this work in,” Elodie mused aloud as Ventus began working with the rope. 

“You’re just now realizing this?” Ventus sounded mildly annoyed. 

Still, she noticed how gentle and nimble his fingers were, working quickly to keep the bindings tight enough to be convincing, but not nearly so tight as the iron manacles. She supposed a pirate like any other sailor would know how to work their knots, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise. 

He pressed a tiny length of rope into her fingers. “Tug on this and it should all come loose. It’s a trick knot, so if things go. . . unexpected, then you’ve got your hands free.”

“Oh, thanks.” Elodie didn’t know that was possible. She gripped the length between two her fingers as best as she could. She didn’t want to lose it, but she also didn’t want to trigger it early. 

“Don’t thank me yet, I haven’t gotten you off-board yet.” He glanced over his shoulder quickly before grabbing her shoulder. He spoke louder, but in a more stilted, unnatural way. “Now, let’s get you to the captain. He has some questions for you.”

With that, he pushed her out of the brig and into the dark hallway. Other than the creaking of the ship on the wind and their own footfalls, the ship was quiet. 

Too quiet, Elodie couldn’t help but think. Then again, perhaps it was just her racing nerves making it feel like she was getting off too easily. 

When they entered the main deck, it was devoid of any other sailors. Elodie supposed that any lookouts were probably atop the masts and they weren’t looking at the main deck. At least, she hoped and prayed to all the sea gods that they weren’t. At least there was light again, with the dawn coming up over the horizon. Elodie was squinting, she’d gotten so used to the darkness of the brig at night. 

They’d crossed the deck to where the emergency rowboats and the wicker baskets were tied to the side when a voice cut through the dawn. 

“Where do you think you’re going, boy?” 

Ventus froze behind her. “Captain requested to see her, Davies. I’m just doing as my captain asked of me.”

“Did he now?” Elodie could hear it in his voice, he didn’t believe a word of what Ventus had said. 

“Want to try that again, boy?” A new voice cut through the morning, and Elodie looked to one of the upper decks to see that Captain Reynard and several other pirates had been in wait for them. 

“Shit,” Ventus hissed under his breath. He pushed Elodie behind him and drew his sword. 

She reached for the bit to pull at the knot—but it wasn’t there. She frowned. She’d lost the bit. She had to find it, or else—

“What are you going to do boy, fight me?” Davies laughed as he drew his own sword. “You’ve never seen any real combat, you’ve been working below-decks.”

She continued to feel around, her fingers catching the frayed end of the bit. It wasn’t solid in her hands, but if she could just pull she’d be free. 

Ventus raised his sword with both hands. She could see it in his posture, he was still a beginner. He reminded her of the newer soldier recruits she sometimes saw in Port Augustine, when they were on a brief trip to the town or when they would first arrive, before they transferred out to one of the forts off the coast.

The wind began to pick up, rustling the sails as the dawn began to darken. 

“Go ahead, then, do it!” Davies jeered. 

The glint of sunlight on metal caught Elodie’s eye. Captain Reynard had drawn his pistol, and Ventus hadn’t noticed. Just as she registered the gun, she had it—she yanked hard on the frayed ends and the rope dropped to deck harmlessly. 

It all happened in the blink of an eye.

Davies advanced.

The gun fired, filling the air with a flash and smoke. The taste of gunpowder had somehow gotten into Elodie’s mouth.