She could tell from the pleased look on Ramsey’s face that she’d made the right decision, and now Larinna leaned forward and tapped the stool with her finger. “You save this seat for me, understand? One day I’m coming back to swap stories and learn all about you. I’ll be bringing my crew, too, so you’d better find some more chairs, and don’t you even think about charging us for the grog.”
Now Ramsey stood as well, and for the first time Larinna spotted the remnants of several injuries. She couldn’t help but wonder what final fate had befallen the Pirate Lord of the Sea of Thieves, but that was yet another story she’d have to wait to hear. She shook his paw-like hand as it was offered, pleased to find that his grip was as strong as if he’d been made of flesh and blood, and made her way back along down the tavern. The ghostly pirates watched her once more as she departed, smiling.
At the stairs, Larinna found that she couldn’t resist one last look around, to drink the room in and hold it in her mind like a painting. It would have to do until the next time she crossed its threshold. Her eyes lingered on the tavern’s ethereal proprietor as he turned the glittering ring over and over in his ghostly fingers.
“Ramsey!” she called out across the room. “What was her name?”
The Pirate Lord smiled, wistfully. “Athena.”
Only when the tavern was out of sight did Larinna let out a long, slow breath. It was a magnificent hideout, she had to admit, and she allowed herself the luxury of a moment’s daydream; she saw herself standing at the prow of a glittering galleon, flanked by Adelheid and the others as their ship burst through the silvery curtain of the waterfall and off on a new journey. All in good time, she thought.
She stood aside for a group of pirates as they staggered past her on their way to the tavern, struggling with a cursed chest that seemed to be writhing and moving as if it was alive. Even as she watched, they lost their grip on the box, and it bounded merrily along the docks as if it were an overexcited puppy, forcing the red-faced crew to tear after it before it could get away. Always something new, she reminded herself with a smile.
She ambled back along the passageway until the sandy floor gave way to flagstones, and was not terribly surprised when the stairway began to grind closed behind her, sealing itself away. Squatting down and running her fingers along the floor, she could feel no trace of the secret steps. No matter. They’d appear for her again when she was ready.
Faizel and Little Ned had slept long enough, she decided, and nudged the latter repeatedly in his ribs until his snoring gave way to a choking cough and he lurched upright, looking confused and disgruntled. Faizel proved somewhat harder to rouse, and eventually they settled for Ned carrying him outside to the rain barrel and dunking him briefly inside by his ankles, much to the amusement of those stallholders who were setting up for another day. Faizel, for once, was not amused, though his good humor was restored when Larinna promised to buy the pair breakfast. “I know a man who does excellent bacon and eggs,” she promised.
“Feasting without your captain!” came an accusing voice. “Honestly, I drop dead for five minutes . . .”
There was Adelheid, alive as ever and looking no worse for wear other than a large tear where the Gold Hoarder’s shovel had ripped through her outfit. Her crew surrounded her, all clamoring to tell the tale of everything that had happened during her stay on the Ferry of the Damned. “It’s a story you can tell me over breakfast,” Adelheid insisted.
Together, the crew of the Unforgiven coaxed the tavern keeper into providing them with a fine meal, and then they made their way to the docks where their ship was waiting. The shipwright had been as good as her word, and everything was once again in its rightful place. Adelheid vanished into the captain’s cabin for a few moments and returned wearing a shirt of vivid crimson in place of her torn tunic.
“Well,” she declared, “I’m pleased to say that we don’t have to worry about more bounty hunters getting in our way. Furthermore, thanks to me, we’re no longer blacklisted by the Order of Souls, so we can pick a voyage with them whenever it takes our fancy.”
“We aren’t?” Larinna stared. “How did you . . . ?”
“You must’ve hit someone really hard,” Ned said admiringly.
Adelheid smirked. “Imagine my surprise when I woke up on the Ferry, and who should I find lurking there but our old friend Captain Quince? It seemed as though he’d offended the Ferryman by virtue of being his usual charming self and was destined to spend all eternity sailing the Sea of the Damned because he was too stubborn to apologize. Being a magnanimous and forgiving sort, I offered to have a quiet word with the Ferryman, and in exchange Quince agreed to have the Order of Souls forget our little misunderstanding over Simeon’s riddle. Anyone fancy a skellie hunt?”
“An intriguing suggestion,” mused Faizel, “but I feel like I would like to put a few more meals between myself and another encounter with the living dead. Perhaps we could introduce Larinna to the opportunities offered by the Merchant Alliance?”
“Not pigs again,” groaned Ned. “What about the Gold Hoarders?”
“I’ve seen enough gold to last me a life time, thank you, Ned.”
“No such thing, Larinna.” Adelheid put her hands on her hips. “All right, then, the next voyage we make ourselves. Time to get back out onto the waves where we belong.” She hesitated, then added graciously: “Take the helm, Larinna. You can pick a heading for us.”
Larinna was both surprised and pleased, and took the sun-bleached wheel of the Unforgiven in both hands. “Aye, Captain. What are we looking for?”
Adelheid grinned. “Someplace . . . fun. We’ll know it when we see it. We always do.”
The Unforgiven shone in the sunlight as she flew across the waves, carving a path across an untamed sea beneath an azure sky. Aboard her, her crew joked and laughed together, raising their tankards in a toast to the adventures they’d had, and all that were yet to come. Beyond the horizon, Larinna knew, there would be places that not even the Pirate Lord and his crew had ever discovered. Places filled with strange and troublesome treasures that were begging to be claimed by any pirate brave enough to seek them out. Somewhere out there, her legend was waiting for her.
This, she thought with satisfaction, is what being a pirate is all about.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chris Allcock is a game designer and writer whose career began at Rare Ltd. in 2003. He has helped create a wide variety of acclaimed titles, including Kameo: Elements of Power, Kinect Sports, Rare Replay, and most recently Sea of Thieves. He currently lives in the English Midlands and is probably drinking tea.
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© 2018 Microsoft Corporation. All Rights Reserved. Microsoft, Rare, the Rare logo, Sea of Thieves, and the Sea of Thieves logo are trademarks of the Microsoft group of companies.
www.seaofthieves.com
All rights reserved. Published by Insight Editions, San Rafael, California, in 2018.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available.
ISBN: 978-1-68383-487-8
ISBN: 978-1-6838-3676-6 (ebook)
Publisher: Raoul Goff
Associate Publisher: Vanessa Lopez
Creative Director: Chrissy Kwasnik
Designer: Evelyn Furuta
Senior Editor: Amanda Ng
Editorial Assistant: Maya Alpert
Senior Production Editor: Rachel Anderson
Production Manager: Sadie Crofts
Cover illustration by Ricardo Robles
Special thanks to Adam Park, Peter Hentze, Mike Chapman, Bret Allen, and the Sea of Thieves team.
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