It became my practice to block it all out. I sat with my back to the unruly festivities, turning the compass on my lap and reciting every rhyme I knew. All the while, I strained my eyes on the distant horizon, watching, hoping, wishing for sails to appear.

The prospect of Jade coming near this one-hundred-gun warship again scared me to death. But my crew knew what they were dealing with this go around, and Priest and Ashley would be with them. Ashley knew Blitz’s weaknesses. If anyone could defeat her, it was him.

More storm clouds rolled in, stealing my view of the horizon. The heavy overcast forced me to stare at the deck, the gunwale, anything or nothing at all, as long as I didn’t glance down. One glimpse at my abused body shoved me into the shadows whereupon the pain resided, dark and hopeless.

On the fourth morning, Madwulf paced before me, visibly agitated. “You look like death’s head upon a mop-stick. Ghastly, truly. I wouldn’t ride you into battle.”

“Rot in hell.”

“Open the compass, Bennett.”

“I said go to he—”

Hands shot out from behind me and wrenched my injured shoulder backward. The joint screamed, shooting blades of racking pain through my neck and chest.

My attacker was joined by another, and together, they pinned my elbow against the foremast, holding it with my forearm extending past the timber. The agony in my shoulder throbbed so brutally I drowned in the nauseous, spinning dizziness. Black dots peppered my vision. Acid seared my throat, and excess saliva filled my mouth.

The brute with the wooden plank approached.

“No.” I shook my head wildly and dropped the compass in a useless effort to jerk free. “No, no, no, no! Please! I’ll unlock it right now. I promise.”

The two men restrained me as the brute with the board swung it hard and fast at my forearm. The blow hit like lightning, snapping my arm backward at the wrong angle. Bones cracked from elbow to wrist.

I screamed, choking on the anguish. Ice surged from my feet to my chest, chased by a boiling eruption of vomit.

The contents of my stomach expelled past my lips. That was the last thing I remembered before passing out.

46

I floated back to consciousness on the wings of my father’s words.

Start and end north.

His warm, soothing brogue began to sing to me from somewhere behind, overhead, and all around…

Oh, sad fellow, by the thrust of my blade

North to south, click, click

South to east, one tick

I remembered it as a cheerful melody with morbid lyrics. It had been so long since I’d thought of it. How did the rest go? I crawled through the strange wet fog around me, humming along and searching for the words.

Until a sharp, stabbing throb caught me unawares.