To Sail on Seas of Sky

Chapter 3. Emissaries of the Black-Sail Fleet

Elodie had even known exactly the treasure of which her mother spoke. After all, nearly everyone knew of Captain Felix Vance's buried treasure.

...

"But not everyone knows the truth of it." Her mother spun a letter-opener in her hand with no care for the sharp blade. "To be fair, I wasn't a part of the crew yet when that happened. But it was the discovery that made everyone know the name of the pirate Felix Vance."

She looked out one of the windows at the setting sun and sighed. "He'd sailed to one of the farthest corners of the Sea of Gales, where no maps mark the way. He found ancient treasure, he said, it belonged to the people who once ruled over the whole sea long ago."

"What did he do with it?" Elodie's eyes were wide with wonder.

"Buried it, didn't take a single doubloon, and in fact he buried it in the dead of the night with no crew to help." Her mother laughed, only to quickly sober. She looked at the letter-opener contemplatively. "He said they'd never understand. But something was wrong with it. He said that no one should have ever found that treasure, and he said it looking as if he'd seen a ghost."

...

Elodie could only hope that this treasure her mother had suddenly left everything behind to chase would be worth it. She had no idea what could be wrong with such a treasure that even a pirate would choose to rebury and hide it, rather than take it.

She turned once more in her sheets, thinking of the red sky in the morning. There were no signs of an incoming storm tonight. She could only hope that remained true—and that the red sky wasn't a worse omen than storms and the death that came in their wake. She let the tides of sleep roll over and claim her, letting her sink into their depths.

Of course, the night was not so kind as to let her stay under the depths of sleep. Elodie was roused from dreams of stars and whales flying through the air and sea-spray to the smell of fire and the song of cannons and screams.

She flew out of bed and threw on her boots. Just as she'd tossed her dressing gown over her shoulders, Rosemarie burst in through the door.

"Miss Fleetwood, we have to go, they're attacking Brighton Row!"

"Just a moment, I need to go into the fencing room—" Elodie was cut off by Rosemarine snatching her wrist, digging in with her fingernails.

"No time, Miss Fleetwood, they've set fire to the Kenway house at the end of the row, and we don't know when the constables or the fire brigade will be here to put a stop to all of this!" Rosemarine's eyes were wide with fear. "Now come on!"

With more strength than Elodie would have thought possible, the maid dragged Elodie down the grand staircase and into the streets.

The street was unlike anything Elodie had ever seen. Perhaps the closest was when the King's Fair came to town, but even the revelry of such an event was unlike the chaos unfolding before her on Brighton Row.

Elodie and Rosemarine weren't the only ones attempting to flee, servants and families from the other colorful mansions were running on the cobble stones, with animals like dogs and cats weaving their way underfoot. All the while, there were pirates attacking, wielding large cutlasses and firing pistols that sent the night sky alight like fireworks.

In the darkness and confusion, Elodie couldn't truly tell however who was a pirate and who was like her, a resident of the esteemed neighborhood trying to escape the rampage. The only certainty was Rosemarine's grip on her arm, dragging her through it all.

But even that could not remain constant.

The trouble came when the horses burst out of the Hathornes' stable. Someone had left the door open to give them a chance to escape before the flames or the pirates claimed their house, perhaps a well-meaning stable boy or someone similar.