Nassau Docks, Just Before Dawn
The sky was bruised purple, fading toward grey. Gulls wheeled overhead, restless and loud. The streets were too quiet for dawn — like the city was holding its breath.
Thomas crept along the edge of a warehouse wall, boots careful, breath tight. Behind him, Jonah kept pace, muttering.
"Tell me again why we're sneaking through the docks like wanted men?"
"Because," Thomas whispered, "we are."
"Right. Just checking."
Ahead, Celeste moved like smoke — cloak drawn tight, steps soundless on the salt-warped planks. She paused at every alley mouth, every flicker of lantern light. Word was, Royal Navy soldiers were sweeping the outer piers, asking about someone named Vance.
Someone who'd left a dead man in a rum house and a trail of questions behind.
They hugged the shadows, slipping between crates and skiffs, until the end of the pier came into view.
The Witch's Wrath.
She wasn't much — a mid-sized sloop with patched sails and a hull that looked like it had survived cannon fire, heartbreak, and maybe one or two sea curses. Her rigging creaked softly in the breeze. Her name was barely legible on the stern, half-swallowed by salt and time.
Jonah stared. "Charming. Exactly the sort of vessel you want for a suicidal run to Tortuga."
"Afloat's good enough," Thomas muttered.
Celeste was already on the dock, speaking in low tones with a hunched, thick-shouldered man who looked like he'd been hanged once and decided to keep going anyway.
He had a grey beard like knotted rope, a limp that clicked faintly on the planks, and a voice soaked in rum and smoke.
Beside him sat a massive, smoke-grey cat — one ear missing, eyes like broken glass. It stared at Jonah with fixed, predatory disdain.
Jonah whispered, "Why is it looking at me like that?"
The cat hissed.
"I didn't do anything!"
Celeste turned. "Captain Maddox, this is Thomas Vance. And Jonah… is along for the ride."
Jonah lifted a hand. "Still standing right here."
Maddox grunted. "Tell your fool to keep his mouth shut, or I'll lock him in the bilge with Smoke. He eats better."
The cat let out a low, gravelly growl.
Jonah stiffened. "That thing's possessed."
Maddox scratched the cat behind its ragged ear. "He's got taste."
Thomas stepped forward. "Captain. We appreciate the risk."
Maddox gave him a long look, like he was checking for weak seams. "You're Vance's boy?"
Thomas flinched — just slightly.
"Didn't know the name still echoed."
"It doesn't," Maddox said. "Celeste does."
He spat over the side of the dock. "I owe her. Not you."
Jonah leaned in. "Exactly how many people has she saved?"
Celeste didn't look back. "Enough."
Maddox snorted. "She pulled me out of Port Charles with a knife in one hand, a fire behind us, and two steps ahead of a hanging. That favour's spent. You're clear across the reef, I'm clear of my debt."
He jabbed a thumb toward the gangplank. "Get aboard. We cast off before the Navy gets curious."
Jonah muttered, "Too late for that."
The crew moved in shadows — three men and a boy, all quiet, armed, and sharp-eyed. Not sailors. Not dockhands. The kind of crew you hire when the job gets ugly.
Celeste boarded without a word.
Thomas lingered. The city behind them was beginning to stir. Torchlight flickered in alleys. A trio of Royal soldiers moved two blocks up, shouting orders.
Jonah followed his gaze. "They're looking for us."
Thomas nodded.
"You want to turn back?"
He didn't answer.
Jonah adjusted his pack and sighed. "Didn't think so."
Smoke the cat watched them cross the gangplank — judging, unblinking.
"If that thing sleeps on my chest," Jonah whispered, "I swear I'm jumping overboard."
Aboard The Witch's Wrath, the sails caught the first breath of wind. Maddox barked orders in short, rasped bursts. Lines were hauled. Knots secured. The dock slipped away behind them like a fading memory.
Nassau — its torn taverns, crooked deals, and buried ghosts — receded into the morning mist.
Celeste stood at the prow, hair tugged by the breeze, face unreadable.
Thomas joined her.
"You think this ship'll hold?"
"She'll hold," Celeste said. "It's not the ship you should worry about."
He glanced at her. "Then what?"
She looked out across the horizon.
"Whatever's waiting in the water."