By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel(29)

“Highly doubtful. But maybe they aren’t interested in coming after us. They might have just wanted to know our business.”

“Sure,” he said, but his tone was as disbelieving as I felt. Once he’d caught his breath, we sped up again until we reached another dune. We could go around it, but it would take a lot longer and at some point we still had to crest high enough that the ship could see us. Besides, if they found us in the vastness of the Expanse once, I didn’t think a sand dune or two would stop them.

I looked for the swiftest place to climb and cross the dune. The less they saw of us, the better.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Never been better.”

Liar. Beet-red face, heaving lungs. Yep, looking good. I reached over and snatched the rug from him.

“Let me carry that. If you need me to, I can carry you too.”

“No,” he wheezed. “Not unless you can move at lightning speed with me on your back.”

“Unfortunately, no.”

He nodded.

“Let’s go, then. The sooner we get out of this hellscape, the better.”

I couldn’t agree more.

We hurried up the next dune. When we were high enough I looked to see if the galleon was still there. It wasn’t. I swallowed. Maybe it departed and the crew decided to leave us alone. It could happen, right? Strange no evidence of a trail existed with the amount of sand the ship displaced.

We trudged on. When we crested the dune, I swore a blue streak. The galleon waited for us at the bottom, the gang plank lowered.





10





“Seems to me, ye could use a lift.” The voice boomed as we descended the hill. No point in running if the ship could outdistance us so easily.

“We’re good, thanks!” Quinn called.

“Come aboard, mateys. The Expanse be no place fer travelers like yerselves.”

“I think we’ll pass.” I nodded to Quinn and we started to move around the side of the galleon. For every step we took, the ship mirrored us. No way around it. Perhaps through it? Placing my hand on the ship’s side, I pressed. It wasn’t cloudlike or anything, though I could shove my hand through it if I applied enough force. Weird. I’d never seen anything like it. I’d always assumed ghosts were wisplike creatures with no solid form. Apparently not.

“Oh, come now, ye land lubbers. We’ll travel faster together. Ye can’t have too much grub along with ye, now can ye?”

It wasn’t food I was worried about.

“Or water. Or entertainin’ company.”

Leaning into Quinn, I motioned him close. “If we board a ghost ship, do you know whether we can get off again?” I whispered.

“I think so—”

“Of course ye can get off. What kind of pirate do ye think I be?” the voice boomed. Somehow it didn’t put me at ease.

“What if we don’t want to board?” Quinn yelled back.

Silence.

A bead of sweat dripped down my back. Our flight had taken a lot out of us. Our water definitely wouldn’t last.

“Please,” came the subdued reply at last.

“Why do you want us to board?” I asked. “And where are you anyway? Show yourself.”

We heard a pop and a brightly colored but translucent parrot appeared. He fluttered over us, an eye patch covering his left socket.

“I’ve been so lonely, ye see. The others have all passed beyond. All except yers truly.” His voice was still deep and rough. Mimicking his former owner’s maybe? He circled us again and I put out my forearm for him to land on.

“Many thanks, dragon-fairy. Feels good to rest me old bones. I be Pirate McPiratestein, by the by, but ye can call me Pie.”

“Of course you are.” I introduced Quinn and myself.

Quinn’s mouth had fallen open. “You mean to tell me you pilot this ship by yourself?”

“Well, who else would do it? I can see ye ain’t the brains here, matey.”

“He is, actually.” I winked at Quinn.

“Then ye be in more need of me than ye think, Mr. Twig. I have water, grub, and lots of stories to tell. Thar’s hammocks for ye to sleep in when ye git tired. An easy journey and I’ll even drop ye off closest to Rottingvale Quagmire. Though why ye’d want to go thar, I can’t imagine. Perhaps we could swap yarns on the way?”

“How is it you ended up alone on the ship?” Quinn asked. His eyes darted to the craft as though searching for hidden crew members.

“Shave me belly with a rusty razor, ain’t ye a suspicious lad? Ye’d make a fine pirate. But to answer yer question, I don’t rightly know. When me master, Captain Blackstone Yardley passed on, I expected to go with him. Yet, here I be.”

“Betrayer Yardley was your captain?” Quinn sucked in a harsh breath. “I always assumed the Blackstone Yardley stories were just myths to scare the young ones.”

“Of course Captain Blackstone be a real person, of that I can vouch. He’s been me captain since I was but a chick, barely hatched from an egg, he has.”

“How long ago did he pass on from here?” Quinn’s gaze was intent on the bird.

“No idea. Time weren’t exactly me specialty. I’d say a century or so, but I could be wrong. Long enough fer me to git lonely.”