Pirate Pete's Arc

Chapter 9 of 11

The note in Pete's pocket said his mother would arrive tomorrow. His rum sat in the sea cave, safe on the ledge, but he needed to check it before high tide. If he rowed out today, she might spot him from the docks. His mother watched everything. One trip to that cave and she would ask why. Pete stood on his deck and cursed the timing. Silas Blackwater climbed the rail without asking, same as always. The old smuggler had steered Pete to the cave in the first place. He chewed something slow and studied Pete's face. "You've got the look of a man who wants to row somewhere," Silas said. "Don't. Your mother docks by noon. She'll see your boat leave and follow the wake with her eyes. Then she'll wonder." "I have to check the barrels," Pete said. "The tide floods that cave every night. If a stone shifted, they're gone." Silas spat over the side. "Then you don't go. You send someone who belongs in the water." Pete understood. He leaned over the rail and called low across the shallows. Priscilla surfaced within a minute, blue hair slick, green eyes catching the light. The mermaid had warned him about the flooding once and saved his rum. She circled the hull. "You want a favor," she said. "I can hear it in your voice." "My mother comes tomorrow," Pete said. "I can't row to the cave without her seeing. Will you check the ledge for me? Tell me the barrels haven't moved." Priscilla tilted her head. "And what do I get?" "A gold coin. And I'll owe you a true favor after." She smiled and slipped under. Pete waited on the deck, watching the water. Silas said nothing. The sun climbed. At last Priscilla broke the surface near the boat. "Three barrels sit dry on the ledge," she said. "The fourth rolled off in the night. It floated to the cave mouth and cracked on the rocks. The tide took the rum." Pete's stomach dropped. "Three left?" "Three," she said. "Stack more stones and they'll hold. But that cave will take another if you leave them past the smugglers sail." She flicked her tail and was gone. Pete gripped the rail. He had never left the ship. His mother would find nothing here tomorrow. But the sea had stolen a barrel behind his back, and it would keep stealing while his rum hid on that shore. "Well," Silas said. "You kept your feet on this deck. Smart. But you're down a barrel and you've got no crew to move the rest." "I'll manage," Pete said. "Manage soon," Silas said. "Two days till the smugglers leave. Two nights of tide." He swung back over the rail and climbed down. Pete stayed at the rail. He had hidden from his mother without leaving his ship. But the cave was eating his fortune, one barrel at a time.