For his opening move, McGraw took cover behind the capstan and lit up a smoke bomb. With the confusion, volleys of bullets flew forth from both sides, albeit for each man he lost, the merchants fell by two. A bullet came from the bow, which wouldn’t have been all too surprising, had it not lodged itself in his shoulder. One of the enemies had somehow teleported, and disappeared just as quickly.

“Captain,” Atez, one of the few men McGraw was certain could not be swayed, came over to him, “Do you think -”

“Yes!” He replied as he gritted his teeth, “Yes! Silver is on the account for this one.”

The assailant, reloaded musket in hand, attempted the same maneuver, but the quartermaster had already had his pistol trained in that direction and dropped him as soon as he spawned into view. He then helped his captain to his feet.

“Luckily,” His hand was mostly dry, “The wound seems superficial. You’ll live.”

McGraw nodded sternly, as his rising anger gave birth for a storm to roll in, encompassing both ships in its downpour. This turned out to be quite the boon for the merchants, as the smoke bomb’s fuse was doused, and the pirates, without cover from the rain, found their powder wetted and unusable. And, as the smoke started to clear, McGraw’s suspicions were confirmed, what with Silver standing on the quarterdeck, overlooking the whole battle. He had no time to think about that, though, as a thunderbolt struck right at the base of the mainmast.

One member of the vanguard was killed instantly, and three more men joined him when the mast fell over from the shock. Another of the vanguard, whose skin turned rocky, pushed forward, remembering his own strength and using it to block them in. What’s worse, for the captain, was that Silver had the audacity to slip into the ranks, fighting on the front now that it was safe to do so.

“Captain, what happened?” Atez asked, quite loudly at that.

“Two shots were fired above deck, and then this crew’s fighting back,” He replied, his breath not quite with him, “Seems to me like there’s a traitor.”

“Captain,” Silver crouched at the body, producing from it two unloaded pistols, “Seems I’ve found the culprits. Now that I think of it, where’s Jan?”

“What does Jan have to do with this?” McGraw knew all too well what Jan had to do with this.

“Seems to me,” She put a finger to the mast, “Our friend shot dear Jan, and then must’ve fallen from the crow’s nest.”

“And the second shot?” He replied.

“Must’ve gone off when he fell.” She offered. The financier knew it worked, as she heard the crew murmur and saw the captain punch his gums with his tongue.

“Captain!” The rocky man at the door shouted, “They’re breaking through the floor!”

McGraw put his hand on his chin, wondering what was directly below the aft. Then his eyes went wide as he realized that the men had suggested that’s where their powder magazine was kept. He waved his arm to get the men in line, and took a few of them to rush down the ladder. He got down there quick enough, it seemed, as he was able to rush over and kick a water barrel to dampen the magazine just a second before the deck gave way and a merchant fell down with a lit fuse in hand.

“Now son, it seems to me you’ve been beaten,” McGraw said, lowering his wrist to point the tip of his saber at the young man, “But there’s no need for us to continue this a-fightin’. Way I see it, you put down your guns and swords again, and we’ll let you live. Pick a fight, and you’re still outnumbered three-to-one.” He evidently had a great idea, as evidenced by the hands on his hips, “Tell you what: all seven of you men left, you’re all eligible to sign up with us.”

Through the hole in the deck, Silver and McGraw stared daggers at each other - neither had truly made significant progress in weakening their adversary’s position - what with the death on both sides - instead just deepening the trench between the two sides of the crew.

—

“They seem to be getting along well enough.” Paracelsus cocked his head toward the middle of the deck, where the two younger ones played with a queer set of black dominoes with red and white dots.

“I think they feel a certain kinship, seeing as they’re both just teenagers,” Serpacinno replied, on her second cup of coffee, “Can’t say I don’t empathize.”

“Yes, I have to admit, it does feel a little odd - lugging these kids about,” He rubbed his chin, “It also gives me no lack of stress - thinking about making port for a few days. I’m worried they’ll wander off.”

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She rolled her eyes, “Looking at you, I would never have guessed you’d be an overbearing father.”

“It’s not overbearing,” He blew a raspberry to signify his disdain, “It’s perfectly normal! While it’s easy to forget, us two are the only aboard that are actually invested in the long term success of our enterprise and I’m going to -” He snapped his fingers in exasperation and shook his head with a heavy sigh, “Nevermind. I’ve realized it’ll be better if I take Tariq into town, that way you and Gareland can guard the ship.”

“Why am I left to guard the ship?” The swordswoman asked indignantly.

“Well, I have to go investigate the viability of this heist, and Tariq has to be there with me.” He explained matter-of-factly.

“Why do you even wanna do this?” She leaned back and crossed her arms, and she saw the annoyed look on the captain’s face, “Yeah, you already gave me an answer, I know. But that was bullshit, and you know it.”

He puffed a bit, annoyed that he seemed to be entirely unable to get even the simplest of lies around her perception, “I know this might sound foolish, but at first it was because I thought Tariq might make a good assassin, and I wanted to be in his good graces. Obviously, that was before I knew he was a kid. Now, and you may find this part hard to believe, I would feel bad about leaving him dry now.”

“No, I believe you,” She replied with a smirk, “You still can’t seem to grasp it - but I can tell when you’re trying to hide something.”

Parace, in response, gave a puff of the lip and tilt of the head as though to say “fair enough”. Not a second more passed before the bell rang from the crow’s nest. So, the captain formed a spyglass and confirmed that they would be landing before dark.

“Regardless,” Serpacinno replied, “We’ve got a lookout. And I get that for a man of the salt, it may seem like nothing to complain about - but I’ve spent the last few weeks almost entirely at sea. I’m getting off the ship here.”

Paracelsus sighed and rubbed his face, “Alright, fine, fine. I’d ask you to reconsider, but I realize it’s a lost cause. I guess we’ll have to put all our faith into the little fairy, then.”

And so, at around three PM, the Gale was moored, with a more reasonable fee of fifty dollars, and the captain made the final preparations to take off. He gave Gareland, in secret, a musket of peculiar make, with a long, rifled bore and a strange magnifying lens, both of which he claimed would help with the accuracy. She gave, in return, a mock salute and a dutiful promise to watch over the ship.

“Serpacinno,” Paracelus handed her a small red tube, capped on either end with some white rubber, “Since you’d like to step ashore, I’d ask you to look into something for me.”

“Sure, seems only right. What am I looking for?” She spun the tube round and round, scrutinizing its uniform surface for any indication of what it might be.

“Less of a what, and more of a how,” He lightly grabbed the tube, annoyed at her inspection, “Specifically - how are there marines here ahead of us, if they had to leave after us? If you’re in danger, just snap the tube, it’ll let off a sort of plume I can follow.”

“Alright, sounds like a plan,” She resumed her inspections, “And how will I know if you need help?”

“Look for a red cloud of smoke,” Paracelsus replied, handing a flare to Tariq, “That’ll be the signal. Tariq?”

“Hmm?” The young man asked, not having paid attention to the conversation, “What was that?”

The captain groaned, “I’ll fill you in later. Remember, we’re staying at the White Horse tonight. Tariq, let’s go.”

The men set off, in search of the opera hall that would be used for the charity. All things considered, it was a nice building, even if the wing that was currently being constructed made the area noisy. The captain, though, did not see this as an inconvenience, but rather an opportunity.

“Tariq,” He clapped the young man on his shoulder, “Let’s go do some investigating.”

“Wait!” His companion replied, “There’s workers everywhere, what’s your plan?” Paracelsus just grinned at him, and before he realized it, both Tariq and his new friend were dressed in the same outfits as the workers, “Don’t take this the wrong way - you still look foreign.”

“That’s why I’m relying on my dear brother-in-law to speak for me.” With a tone that allowed no disagreement, the captain kept walking to their objective, and Tariq followed behind, nervously.

“Hello -” Tariq, after being somewhat pushed along, started, stumbling over his words, “Do you need any workers?”

“No, but,” One of them replied in a friendly, jovial voice, “I wanted to go home for the day. If you’re willing to work for free…” He had a joking look on his face.

“Why not?” Tariq laughed like a man who knew he was guilty, but not what of.

The worker squinted in response, and for a second, Tariq heavily considered running away. He was offered a handshake, and he took it friendly, “What are your names, then?”

“Tariq and…” Paracelsus’ eyes widened; he might not have understood the language, but he recognized the name, “Paracelsus.”

“Odd name, isn’t it?” The worker asked directly to the captain, ignorant of his ignorance.

“You’ll have to excuse my,” Tariq blanked for a moment, “Brother in law. He doesn’t speak our language.”

Now the worker’s face was painted in the color of suspicion, but he hid it for the moment. So, he gave them a set of tools and left to find his boss.

“We’ve tipped him off,” Parace said, “Badly. Let’s have a look around.”

“What are you doing?” Tariq said, not offering a better course of action and still following behind his captain.

“We’re looking around - while we still have the element of surprise.” Parace replied, leading him to a tunnel which, with any luck, ran below the whole building.

“So, what’s the bigger picture here?”

“The bigger picture,” Paracelsus created a spool of thread to keep track of where he was, “Is finding out how we’re going to abduct Sarahne bint Medine, and where we’re going to take her.”

“What?!” Tariq took a few strides to stand in front of him, “What do you mean, abduct her?”

Paracelsus hooked an eyebrow, “I thought you wanted to kill Medine?” He brushed past his young partner, “We’re going to need a way to get close to him.”

Tariq fiddled with his fingers and bit his lip, nervously, “I don’t want to hurt anyone, that doesn’t need to get hurt.”

Paracelsus stopped in his tracks and sighed. He was right - in many ways, Tariq was like a younger version of himself, naive innocence and all. Not keen on lingering on that thought, he started formulating a new plan, one without an abduction.

He would strive to maintain Tariq’s innocence, as long as he could.