He wanted to fall into a crack in the ground. He also wanted to see what was in all those shopping bags she and Fiona had brought back from Hobart.

He walked out of his bedroom feeling ten feet taller. He wore a tailored button-up shirt, the collar still starched cardboard stiff, as well as expensive designer slacks and calf-leather boots. Adrenaline spiked through him as he headed into the dining room, where Fiona and Shelby were waiting for him.

‘Give us a spin, sweetheart!’ cried Fiona.

‘Going my way, darling?’ added Shelby with a laugh. ‘You look good, Mack. Really good. And now . . .’ She fished around in one of the bags. ‘The final piece. I remember you used to wear one all the time.’

In her hands, shimmering and reflecting light, was a thick gold chain. It must have been at least 20 inches of 14-carat gold.

‘Shelby . . . this must’ve cost . . .’

‘More than that shitbox car you drive, yes,’ said Shelby. ‘Probably worth about five of them. Do you like it?’

Did he like it? It was worth more than any jewellery he’d ever owned before, and he’d owned some heavy chains.

Mackerel touched the precious metal. He felt sick; he felt hungry. He wanted his old life back. He wanted to be in penthouse suites, surrounded by people who respected him. He wanted the money to buy this chain, not have his brother’s wife do it for him.

She reached forward to clasp it around his neck, taking the time to linger and whisper in his ear, ‘We’ll take Blackbeard down. Forever.’

The lure was too much. He was going to drown in this.

‘I can’t do it.’

‘What?’ said Shelby, pulling back, alarmed.

‘I can’t. I can’t do this.’

‘Mackerel? Calm down.’

‘No,’ he shook his head, ‘I can’t.’

He ran out the door, the world spinning, only to realise he’d forgotten the car keys. He could hardly go back in there and grab them.

If he’d ever had a dad who gave a shit about him, he might’ve gone to him for advice.

The closest thing he had was Ahab. Maybe his cousin would be able to save him from that world clawing him back.

He ran for the Mermaid’s Darling.

CHAPTER 44

AHAB

Ahab sat out on the deck of the Ambergris, in the middle of the bay. The water sparkled in the gentle swell, lapping at the hull, but he couldn’t enjoy it – he kept an eye on the skies and an ear out for the drone. The Black Wind would be coming back any moment, and it would be ferocious.

He checked the GPS and confirmed again they were in the right spot, even though he knew they were. These were the coordinates Alexandra had written on her slate. They were above what Forest called the Treasure Cave.