‘We only need to reach the side,’ replied Jack under his breath.

‘What then?’ asked Yori, his face exhausted and drawn. ‘We’re in the middle of the Seto Sea.’

‘We time our escape as the ship passes an island … and swim for it.’

‘Jack, we don’t have the luxury of waiting for an island,’ said Miyuki. ‘The Wind Demons intend to kill us.’

‘Or else make us slaves,’ added Yori, glancing round at the haggard and hollow-eyed men in dirty loincloths.

Jack realized his friends were right. And jumping ship was a death sentence in itself. They wouldn’t survive long in open water – dying either from hypothermia, drowning, or a shark attack.

‘There is some good news,’ said Saburo.

Jack and the others turned to him expectantly.

Saburo forced a smile. ‘I don’t feel seasick any more!’

Jack shook his head in disbelief. The old Saburo was back! But they weren’t likely to enjoy each other’s company much longer. A group of ninja pirates were heading across the main deck to the cage.

In the light of day the Wind Demons were even more terrifying to behold. Their black shinobi shozoku had been exchanged for a motley array of coarsely woven jackets, tied in at the waist with belts. A gruesome range of swords, knives and battleaxes hung from their hips. Some wore random pieces of samurai armour, spoils of war donned as badges of honour. A few paraded silk shawls, apparently having plundered the Golden Tiger’s hidden stock of fine silks. Most of the pirates went hatless or else tied a bandanna around their dishevelled manes of black hair. And all the men boasted an unkempt beard or drooping moustache.

But their most distinctive feature was the profusion of tattoos that decorated their bodies. One brawny pirate had a tiger emblazoned across his chest. Another had a pair of swords in the shape of a crucifix on his back. Down the leg of a tall skinny man was a two-headed red snake. Along with their own personal designs, every ninja pirate was branded with a black spider tattoo upon his neck. The man fronting this grisly gang was the most monstrous of the lot. He wore a gold earring, had blackened teeth and a deathly skull tattooed over his entire face.

‘They’re going to eat us for breakfast!’ whimpered one of the Golden Tiger’s crew, sniffling as he wiped a hand across his nose.

The ninja pirate with the skull face leered in through the bars.

‘Any of you fishermen?’ he asked.

No one answered. Jack noted the slaves and Japanese sailors kept their eyes firmly fixed on the deck and their mouths shut.

‘You see, we need to catch a shark,’ explained Skullface. ‘Help us and we’ll let you go.’

At this promise of freedom, the terrified crewmember of the Golden Tiger proclaimed, ‘I’m a fisherman! I’ll help!’