leyna had been crouching next to a bulkhead, which seemed like the most solid thing around. One moment it was there, the next moment it had exploded into a hail of splinters and cinders. Another moment later, it was as if there had never been anything solid in that space at all. Instead, six white and brown chickens flapped and clucked their way about. What had been solid wood, now was nothing but wings and feathers; what had been firm and dependable was now lighter than air. This bothered Eleyna, though the chickens didn’t seem to mind. They were small-minded creatures, still intent on their newfound freedom, on the novel experiences of the sea breeze, the pounding surf, and the hail of red-hot cannonfire that surrounded them and roasted the feather from their flesh.

The battle so far had consisted of long, interminable bouts of waiting, punctuated by intermittent explosions. The Ancilla was a fast ship, but the Eyetooth was a touch faster. That meant that they would be caught, eventually, and boarded, but not until they had thoroughly maneuvered, tacked, cut across the wind enough times to turn even a hardened seadog’s stomach. The Captain swore at his men until his voice and vocabulary were exhausted, and then he got out the whip and started right back at the beginning again. The sails would shudder, the helm would twist and turn, and when they caught the wind again the Eyetooth would still be there, directly behind them, five yards closer and gaining.

And so it was almost a relief to Eleyna when the Eyetooth drew yet closer, to within fifty yards, and muskets began to fire from both sides. The smoke from the powder joined that from the Black Eyetooth‘s thudding bowchasers. The hull of the Eyetooth rose and fell, smacking the water like the angry fist of a seaman demanding his grog ration. It drew closer still, to thirty yards, and now musketballs began to find their marks, attested to by the screams of wounded men falling from the rigging.

Then only twenty yards or open water separated them, and Eleyna could have tossed one of the chickens, which were still milling about her ankles, at the Eyetooth and expect it to glide and flap its ungainly way cross to the far ship’s deck.

Finally, she heard the satisfying chopping sound made by a grappling hook finding purchase in the Ancilla’s timbers. Dashing to the railing, ducking and weaving to avoid incoming fire, Eleyna quickly found the hook and severed its rope. She watched as a buccaneer, working his way hand over hand across the space separating the two ships, found himself suddenly without tension in his wire. He let out a howl as he was sent unceremoniously down to the water’s churning surface.

Now this, she thought, was more like it.

Caught amidships, Eleyna and Yelol fought back to back, relieving swarms of pirates of their unneeded limbs and extremities. The two fought like blind furies, together forming a dervish of terrifying cuts and pistol shot that none of the Eyetooth‘s seamen could approach. Meanwhile in the sterncastle, the Captain, along with First Mate Rot and Second Mate Pellagra, made a last stand with his braces of pistols and rapier singing.

And more singing, besides. The Captain belted out a rousing chant as he unleashed searing death on any who dared come near. “Sing ho!” / Kaboom! / “Sing hi!” / A scream! / “Sing yo ho ho!” (The Captain held the low note as long as possible). / “Sing for yer lives, me hearties, and I’ll send ye the sea below!” He finished off his ditty by laughing wildly as he thrust about with his rapier.

Eleyna was occupied by two cutlass bearing ruffians, whose skin was so tattooed you could barely tell where their trousers began, or if they were even wearing them at all. The two men struck at her like demons, but Eleyna fought like the devil himself, and bested both their blades with her smooth ripostes and lightning footwork. With a sudden twist to the left, she tripped one of the men while still parrying the other’s blow. Then, with a rapid downward thrust, she punctured the fallen man’s hand and pinned it to the deck, then tumbled forward, dodging a whistling cross-blow and availing herself of the prone pirate’s cutlass all in one graceful motion.

As Eleyna rose to her feet, she heard a a horn sound somewhere, then something like the blasts of heavy cannons. She ducked instinctively to avoid the shots. But the thuds continued, and she realized it was not cannon-blasts she was hearing but instead the sound of impossibly heavy boots walking the planks of the Ancilla. After checking that Yelol was successfully dealing with the other tattooed corsair, she turned to find the sound’s source.

It was not difficult. For there, clambering onto the quarterdeck, was a man who could be none other than the dread pirate Gauliga the Merciless. His body was built like a barrel: thick, stout, and heavy, and four feet tall at best. He kept a beard that stretched halfway down his body, and carried a curved sword that was long as Gauliga was tall. On his head was a pitch colored hat with a lush black feather lofting out from its edge. It was as if all hells had bundled themselves into one tight little package, forming something denser with evil than any the foulest souls of mankind. His gaze was a force in itself, pushing Eleyna aside, through the clashing multitudes, seeking out its true prey.

But before Gauliga’s gaze could pin him, the Captain was aloft: he had clambered up the mizzenmast, caught hold of a loose bowline, and swung himself across the ship, grinning and howling like a monkey as he flew. “Gauliga, yer days be numbered, fer nothing ye’ve seen on th’ se’en seas can compare ta the likes’a.”

The Captain was never able to finish his challenge. Just as he made the quarterdeck, landing full on his feet, rapier swinging, Gauliga drew two pistol and unloaded them into the Captain’s chest.

Eleyna wanted to scream out as she saw the Captain fall to his knees, his violently cheerful expression replaced by shock. Blood was spilling out his pea coat, staining his breeches. Instead of shouting, Eleyna forced her own way to the quarterdeck, not caring what pirates she cut through, which side they fought for. Yelol tried to keep pace with her, but she was a storm unto herself, coming at Gauliga like a typhoon’s wind.

As for Eleyna, she saw nothing, heard nothing. All she knew was that a red cloud was covering her eyes, and a feeling of boiling blood filled her ears. That roar and wash drowned out everything else, leaving only herself, Gauliga, and the space needed to get her blade out from her hand and into his heaving chest.