The next morning, a strange wind whipped around the ship. The sea writhed beneath them, but his crew wisely kept quiet as Alek stepped out onto the deck with that skull still in hand. An island came and went to their right as their ship moved directly north, straight towards the heavy clouds blotting out the bright horizon.

  Only Ivan shuffled towards him, twiddling his scarred fingers uneasily. His eyes stayed on the horizon, on those clouds creeping in, and said, “I think we should reconsider this adventure.” The noble lilt hung heavy in the air between them.

  Alek glanced at him, and the words he responded with didn’t feel entirely his own. “I wouldn’t expect someone born of nobility to understand this ‘adventure’.” The last word was practically a snarl.

  In his hand, the skull seemed to grin wider as Alek walked away from his first mate. Predictably, Ivan followed, ever the loyal friend. Friend, a voice in Alek’s head seemed to sneer. With Blackheart’s treasure, he wouldn’t be needing any of those either.

  “I haven’t been a nobleman in some time.” Ivan said, his words clipped with something close to anger. He slanted his eyes at Alek. “Heading into that storm would be a bad idea. For all of us. No treasure is worth that.”

  “Relax, lad.” The skull chattered, a disquieting light sparking in its empty sockets. “I used to sail these seas plenty in my day.”

  “And we see where that led. Captain, please.”

  “That’s enough.” Alek waved him away. “We keep going. No matter the cost. You’re more than welcome to abandon ship.”

  Ivan did not abandon ship, but by lunch that same day, as the sea turned choppy and dangerous, three of their crew jumped into the lifeboat tied to the side. Ivan watched them go, his eyes troubled as the little boat splashed into the sea and the men rowed away.

  “If we were wise men,” Jean murmured beside him, a bandage over one eye, “we’d be in that boat along with them.”

  “I can’t abandon our captain.” Ivan said softly.

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  Jean walked away without another word as the wind whipped at their sails, their ship heading full speed towards that storm. Lightning streaked across the sky, the sea turning as dark as night as they entered unfamiliar territory. Their crew rushed to and fro, fighting with the sails to keep them from tearing in the wind.

  Thunder rumbled deep down into their bones as heavy rain began to pelt the deck. Ivan slipped on the deck as he tried to rush towards the helm where he’d last seen their captain. He could see nothing past the icy rain as he laid there, scrabbling to keep from sliding towards the edge of the deck and towards a watery death. From the corner of his eye, he saw a rope snap free from one of the sails. He kept his head pressed down onto the deck, praying to a god he didn’t believe it to keep from being killed upon this ship. The rope wrapped around someone he didn’t recognize and dragged his crew member over the edge. Soon, the mast above cracked, a sound louder than thunder, and Ivan knew he needed to move. He scrambled up from the deck and hurried towards where he'd seen their captain last.

  Alek hadn’t moved from the helm, the rain plastering his dark hair to his head. It ran in rivulets down his face as he stared, head high, at the storm. The skull stayed securely in his hand. “We’re here.” Alek said, not turning his head to see who joined him at the helm.

  Ivan, breathing hard, grabbed Alek’s arm and turned the captain towards him. “We need to go back!” He shouted over the rain and thunder. “We’ll be killed.”

  “We’ll be fine.” Alek shook him off and pointed forward. “Look.” As if his words were a prophecy, the rain and wind ceased. Their battered ship, one of its masts broken across the deck, bobbed calmly in the water. He looked at Ivan as if proving his point.

  Ivan stared at the skull then back towards their remaining crew who’d gathered on the deck. Blood stained the wood, pooling from a body crushed by the fallen mast. A body that had nearly been Ivan’s had he not moved away. He didn’t want to walk back to that spot, didn’t want to see who they’d lost.

  Instead, he asked Blackheart’s skull. “So where’s the treasure? We’re in open water, so unless you sank it beneath the sea...”

  “A shame you couldn’t be a scholar.” The skull mocked. “Look there, on the edge of the storm. Tell me what ye see.”

  Ivan squinted and had to rub his eyes at the sight. Rising up out of the sea was the steeple of a chapel, its wooden yet termite-ridden cross still perfectly visible. “A chapel.” He breathed the word and could practically hear Jean murmuring about omens and curses somewhere on the deck.

  “This place was once a mighty bustling port town.” Blackheart claimed, his voice distant now as if remembering his glory days. “Before the dam burst, I hid me treasure in the backroom of this very chapel.”

  “You don’t really expect us to dive down to get it.”

  Blackheart laughed, a terrifying sound that caused Ivan to take a step back. Alek bore no reaction, his eyes still on that chapel’s cross. “Not at all. The chapel rises at dusk.”