Alek didn’t say a word about Jean, only shook his head when Ivan asked. They stayed in the water despite every instinct telling Ivan to get out, to find some piece of driftwood and cling to it to keep that monster at bay, but Alek kept a hand on him, the other wielded his own wicked cutlass, splattered with dark blood.

  “Something else is moving in the water.” Alek said after awhile.

  Ivan could see nothing, but he trusted his captain and followed when Alek moved back towards that broken building. Ivan felt sick as they crawled onto the splintered wood, his clothes sticking to him like a second skin. Alek brushed his wet hair from his eyes and made a show of wringing out his clothes.

  “I need you to do something for me, Ivan.” Alek said quietly. “It’s my very last order to you as your captain. When the time comes, I need you to run me through with this.” He handed his cutlass to Ivan who shook his head.

  “I won’t.”

  “You will. I need you to trust me. I have a plan.”

  Ivan swallowed and wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the weapon, the perfect twin to his own. His voice abandoned him, so he simply nodded and stood there beside his captain, his friend, as they looked over the sea. Golden streaks began to peak over the horizon. Dawn was not too far off.

  A smile curled against Alek’s face as the dark water split open before them. A woman, far taller than the both of them, emerged from that dark opening. At least Ivan thought it was a woman. She stood, covered in a tattered fur cloak, dripping black hair hanging down her back. Her face was pale blue, her eyes a glassy silver that focused on him before sliding to Alek.

  “You injured my pet.” Her silvery voice sent shivers down his spine.

  “Your pet killed my men.” Alek retorted pleasantly. “Are you the goddess that resides here?”

  She smiled, revealing wickedly sharp teeth. “Perhaps I am.”

  “I have a deal I’d like to make with you. My soul for my first mate’s safe return back to land.”

  The goddess stared at him for a long moment then cackled, the sound grating against their eyes. “Your soul? You must be speaking in jest. The soul of a wannabe pirate is of no use to me.”

  Ivan tightened his hand around the hilt of the cutlass. “What about an offering?” He called out. Alek cut his eyes to him, clearly wanting him to be quiet, but he continued. “Your pet clearly needs a better food supply than waiting for people to accidentally end up here. What if we made a trade? Our lives for an offering larger than you’ve ever seen, better than gold. A never-ending supply of food and recognition for you and your pet.”

  The ancient goddess stared at him, her eyes unblinking. She moved closer, the smell of the sea all encompassing. “You have the air of an important man.” She whispered, a wet hand reaching out to touch his cheek.

  He fought not to flinch even when he heard his captain call his name. “Tell me,” the goddess asked quietly, lovingly, “what family name do you bear? You look so very familiar.”

  The air felt heavy, thick. Ivan opened his mouth, his family name on his tongue. His family had killed this place, he remembered distantly. They’d murdered the inhabitants and shattered that dam to hide their crimes. Ivan’s name rang in the air, familiar and terrified.

  “Fairweather.” His family name but spoken on someone else’s lips. The spell shattered. A cool wind dried the sweat dripping down Ivan’s face. “That’s my family name.” Alek said, staring at the goddess defiantly. “The people who killed this place.”

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  She whipped around to face him, anger morphing her already terrifying features into something far worse. Tentacles wrapped around Alek’s waist, lifting him up into the air. Ivan shouted his name, swung the cutlass, but missed his captain altogether.

  “They worshipped me.” She hissed into his face as she brought him closer. “My pet never went hungry as long as they were here.”

  “I know.” Alek gasped, the tentacles squeezing around him. “Let us go, and I’ll make it right. I’ll spend the rest of my life making this town come alive again.”

  “Humans lie. I’d rather devour the both of you right now.”

  Ivan clutched the sword tighter and sliced at the tentacle holding his captain. He sliced clean through it. The goddess howled in rage and pain as Alek hit the ground hard. Ivan helped him to his feet, and they scrambled back even as more tentacles reached for them.

  They ducked inside that small cabin, pressed themselves against the back of the wall as the goddess approached them, her tentacles curling around the building, readying to crush them. A sudden rush of water surged into the building as dawn broke the horizon. Alek and Ivan held their breaths as a violent wave washed them and the remains of the building away. Ivan struggled to keep his head above water, watching between breaths as the chapel slowly sank back beneath the waves. The goddess moved in the sea, her furious cries following him until the water dragged him below.

  Ivan vomited sea water against an unfamiliar beach, splintered pieces of wood all around him. Nothing moved on the beach as he climbed to his feet, the sound of someone singing an old sea shanty the only sound. He followed that sound, stumbling, every muscle aching as he moved. The sun had climbed high into the sky, the only sign that he’d lost any amount of time though he didn’t know if he’d lost days or simply hours. A body laid on the beach next to a skull he hated to recognize. The skull was doing the singing as he approached.

  “Good morning.” Blackheart chirped.

  Ivan ignored him and knelt beside Alek who seemed to be breathing. He patted his friend’s face then moved to shaking his shoulder until Alek finally opened his eyes. “We’re alive.” Alek whispered hoarsely.

  “An unlikely development.” Blackheart announced.

  “Come on.” Alek climbed to his feet. “Let’s find our way back to civilization.”

  “Wait!” Blackheart called from the sand. “Take me back to the tavern, back to me crew.”

  “Find your own way back.” Alek said, leaving the skull alone in the sand. In the distance, a church bell chimed the hour.

  “Dead men tell the best tales. You know why they say that?” Blackheart called after them. Ivan slowed to hear the rest. “Because no one ever knows which ones are true. After all, the dead can’t speak or so they say. Our deeds live on in infamy.”

  “Come on, Ivan.” Alek said again, stomping away.

  Blackheart’s crazed laughter followed after them as they stepped onto the boardwalk spanning the edge of the beach. Beyond laid a town they didn’t recognize, but people in strange clothing milled about in the streets, talking to one another. Ivan stopped in the center of the street, several people turning to look at him, as Alek continued walking. In the distance sat a dam that rose high above the town, and a stone chapel on the hill just beneath it. Its stained-glass window shone with red and gold.

  Ivan felt the world swim around him. He stared down at his hands, noticing how nothing hurt anymore. The sunlight seemed to shine through him. He opened his mouth to call out to his captain but stopped as something moved on the beach. The tavern keeper, Nikolai, walked along at an easy pace until he reached the spot where they’d left the skull. Ivan watched him grab Blackheart’s skull and casually walk back. Ivan glanced at Alek who’d stopped to ask the name of the town from a passerby and hurried after Nikolai.

  The path felt eerily familiar though the boardwalk was not rotted beneath his feet. Nothing slithered against his boots or dove into the tiny pond he walked across. The tavern rose before him, easily seen with no sign of the strange fog they’d walked through before. Nikolai gave no sign that he knew he was being followed, and he entered the tavern, carrying the whistling skull with him. Ivan walked to the window, feeling as if he were walking to a hangman’s noose. Distantly, he heard Alek call for him, just now noticing he wasn't behind him, but Ivan ignored it as he pressed his hands against the glass. He could scarcely see inside with the glare of the sun, but there in the dimness, he watched Nikolai set Blackheart’s skull onto the counter. He started, his eyes widening, but no longer focusing on Nikolai or the skull, no longer caring what the two did. All he could see was the new plaque nailed to the wall behind the counter. The name of a ship, the name of his ship, spelled out against the wood. He stumbled back, spun back towards the boardwalk, back to where he’d come from, and opened his mouth to call for Alek, for his friend. The shout died on his lips, strangled as fear choked him. The ghostly visages of men dragged themselves out of the sea, dripping water onto the beach, and leading them, his face a ghostly white, was Jean.