Like a ghost ship, the Black Spider drifted aimlessly on a sea smooth as glass. Not a puff of wind. Not a cloud in the sky. The mainsail hung limp, the foresail in tatters, the rudder all but useless. Bodies lay strewn across the deck, drying out like dead fish for market in the early morning sun. Captain Kurogumo dangled, unmoving, from the tiller arm. Several pirates were draped over the gunwales. Jack was wrapped round the remains of the cage, his friends caught like crabs within its bars. Nothing and no one stirred.

High above, a great albatross circled the lifeless vessel.

The seabird sounded a mournful shriek.

Jack’s eyes blinked open. His bones ached, his skin was rubbed raw, and his throat as dry as parchment. He could scarcely believe he was alive. Indeed, he had no right to be.

The Black Spider had passed directly through the eye of the storm, the typhoon being the most violent he’d ever witnessed. They had battled the entire night, riding wave upon mountainous wave, until exhaustion finally took them all. It was a miracle that the ship was still intact. But the sea anchor had kept their prow to the wind, avoiding a broach and preventing the ship from pitchpoling. And, with their progress slowed, the storm had blown over and mercifully left the Black Spider behind and intact.

Jack scanned the main deck. Most of the Wind Demons had survived, although several had been unavoidably lost to the sea. The Korean slave was also missing, taken at the height of the kamikaze. Easing himself to his feet, Jack quietly roused his friends, putting a finger to their lips. He woke Cheng too and signed for him to follow. Tiptoeing through the maze of pirate bodies, the five of them descended into the hold. Jack pulled out a cask of fresh water.

‘Drink your fill,’ he whispered, opening the wooden lid with a marlinspike.

They began to scoop as much water into their mouths as they could. Meanwhile, Jack found a knife, a wooden spar, two paddles and a square of sailcloth, then filled a crate with provisions. He quickly gulped down some fresh water himself, before pulling out a second cask and explaining, ‘We’ll take as many supplies as we can and all swim out to the sea anchor.’

‘But what then? I couldn’t see any land,’ questioned Miyuki.

‘I’ll dive down and cut the Black Spider’s anchor. The bamboo frame will float like a raft. We’ll make a sail and escape under our own wind.’

‘You had this planned all along,’ said Saburo in admiration.

Jack half nodded. ‘It was more a prayer than a plan.’

‘But what about sharks?’ asked Yori.