The gangways and foremast were gone, smashed by massive, hard-punching cannons. Thirty-two-pounders if I had to guess. But that wasn’t possible unless HMS Blitz was shooting at this ship.

Gunfire ricocheted, and fires burned, the smoldering haze so black it made visibility impossible. I scanned every direction, searching for the attacking ship. Men continued to drop to their deaths, the shots coming from somewhere off our larboard.

Ashley seemed to share my thoughts, for he raced in that direction. On his way, he ripped a spyglass from the hands of a lieutenant, not waiting for the protests.

He reached the larboard bow and set me under it, out of the line of fire.

“Don’t move!” Standing over me, he raised the glass to his eye. “God’s wounds, I can’t see!”

Cannon thunder vibrated across the sea, up through the deck, and into my rattling bones.

“My lord?” A sailor appeared at Ashley’s side, bleeding from a wound on his face. “Why are you here?”

I tucked myself against the bow, trying to remain out of view.

“I’ve been here all day.” Ashley dropped his hand to my head as if making sure I hadn’t moved. “Is my ship firing at this one? Who’s attacking?”

“It’s Madwulf MacNally, my lord. He and his men escaped the hold and overtook HMS Blitz. They’re attacking us, using the guns on your ship.”

My face went cold, and my heart sprinted out of my chest. I wanted to deny what I’d heard, but as I took in the carnage and destruction, it made terrifying sense. Only a one-hundred-gun ship of the line could do this kind of damage.

Ashley’s ship was the deadliest on the sea, and it was now under the command of a violent, deranged pirate.

“May God be with you, my lord.” The sailor ran off to help a fallen comrade.

Ashley didn’t move.

Reaching out, I touched his leg and felt a tremor run through the muscle. “Ashley?”

Was he in shock? Or was he thinking through a plan?

Another boom barreled through the smoke, the horrendous sound ringing my ears. I hunched low as a cannonball careened across the deck and took out a row of starboard guns. Gunners exploded into meaty fragments. Some were still alive, still screaming and kicking as blood spurted from irreparable wounds.

Beside me, a man leaped overboard as the ship burned around us.

“Ashley!” I punched his knee.

He tossed the telescope and crouched before me, his eyes wild and glowing in the shadows.

“I can’t stop this ship from sinking. She’s mortally wounded.” He gripped my face, locking us together. “We must get back to HMS Blitz.”

“How?” I jumped at a nearby explosion and hugged my ears. “How will we get over there?”

“Longboat.” He gripped my hand, rising to his feet.

And with a deafening boom, he was gone.