The air in the Rusty Anchor buzzed with excited voices and nervous laughter. Rumor chased rumor as pirates and prostitutes, gamblers and cutthroats repeated stories about the appearance of a new ship in the harbor. At the center of the whirlwind was the tale that Captain Elisabeth Wolf had drifted into the shelter of the bay on the leeside of Skull Island in the middle of a foggy night, her Silence appearing amongst the other ships like a ghost with barely a sound. Liam thought the last was hogwash, but he’d seen a bunch of new women at the tavern, all of them deftly avoiding the drone of the rumormongers. The way they carried themselves and the weapons on display on all of them made it clear that they were part of a crew.

  He watched, half-fascinated, half-afraid as one of them pulled a keen-edged blade and nearly gutted a sailor for propositioning her. These women weren’t from around here. Curiosity had drawn him to the edge of the harbor earlier that night, and so he knew for a fact that the Silence was indeed drifting on a short anchor-line in the bay. He’d lain eyes on her himself, fighting dread the entire time he lingered in the shadow of a shack. Now he stayed small and quiet in his corner, nursing his ale and watching, determined not to draw the attention of any of these newcomers. Secretly, he hoped that the infamous female captain would saunter into the place, and then he’d have his own tale to tell. One that’d earn him a few drinks from the boys.

  The stories about the Silence put a chill in the bones, they did, and seeing the crew in the flesh made his skin crawl. There was something eerie about the female pirates, something unsettling. It wasn’t just the reputation of their captain, though that did contribute. It was an aura around them, a clear message that to get entangled with them was a bad idea, one that would lead to misfortune.

  “Their captain’s the worst of the lot,” Jimmy said as he plunked down two tankards and dropped himself into a rickety chair next to Liam. “That’s what the barkeep says.” Liam nodded his thanks and took a long draught of ale.

  “Be a fine tale to tell if we saw her, though.”

  “Aye, but one I’d rather not.” By the way Jimmy’s eyes shifted, he knew the other pirate was afraid.

  “No harm in just laying eyes on her.”

  “That’s what you think, but I hear she can turn a man to stone with a sideways glance. Best not to look, best not to see.” The other man shivered and took a long drink, his throat working to pull the ale down.

  Liam shrugged, the other man’s fear washing over him like a cold tide. “Likely she won’t come anywhere near us lowly sailors anyhow. Probably up at the old Wreck with the Skeleton King. Why else would she be here, except to sit in the palace with the man in charge?”

  “Aye, and ye best hope he doesn’t summon us poor fellows up there to bear witness to whatever business they’re about to conduct.”

  Liam raised his drink to that and settled back to watch the other patrons of the tavern. One of the women was across the room, dicing with the locals. She was tall and broad in the shoulders, her brightly coloured clothing lay stark against her dark skin. Bracelets strung with charms glittered on both her wrists and made a chiming sound as she shook the dice and threw them on the table. The men hollered and swore at the result, but the woman’s face remained impassive; only her eyes held any expression, one that Liam wasn’t able to read. He wondered about her close-cropped hair and the pale lines of the scars that traced her arms. It seemed that despite the rumors about Captain Wolf’s unholy powers, the women on her crew still went into battle. She caught him staring, and before he could look away she winked at him. He shuddered and ducked his head, turning his attention to his drink. He sipped and he gulped, but nothing could distract him from that one shared look. What did the wink mean?

  Pondering on that one small exchange brought him to the bottom of his tankard, and he scowled down into the empty cup. Perhaps he should risk the last of his coins on a few dice games instead of drinking them away. He chewed on his lip and glanced up at the table across the room. The pirate was concentrating on the game again, paying him no heed. Those other fellows didn’t seem to be having any luck, and yet, he felt that his luck would hold true and he’d take all the winnings the woman was piling up in front of her in a few short throws. Liam stood up, his hand going into his pocket to jingle his last coins.

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  “Where you goin’?” Jimmy grabbed his arm as he was about to walk away.

  “To play a game of dice!” He pulled free.

  “Liam!” Jimmy’s chair fell to the floor as he pushed himself up. “Liam, you don’ even like dice! Come back here, you scoundrel—you owe me a beer!”

  “I’ll get you one after!” He waved off his companion and came to a sudden standstill at the gaming table, entranced by the clatter of bone against leather, by the gleam of coins. He was barely able to contain his desire to join in with the others. Each throw rattled around his head louder than the last, until he barely heard the noise of the tavern around him. Jimmy was drowned out completely, his protests and warnings lost in the din. When one of the other pirates got up with an angry bellow and stalked out of the room, Liam sat in his chair so fast he nearly fell right out of it again.

  “I’m in,” he croaked, his throat dry with need.

  “And so you are.” The woman smiled at him, showing a small gap between her two gold front teeth. Liam licked his lips and put his coins on the table. Luck was with him on this one, he was certain. The cup and dice came his way. His palms were sweating as he shook them, their staccato rattle loud in his ears. He threw them. His numbers were good. The female sailor took them up next, the golden bangles on her arms chiming as she shook and threw. As before, the odds were in her favour and she won.

  “Next time,” he whispered as the first of his money joined the pile in front of the woman.

  The door slammed open before the gamblers were able to start a new round. “Maris!” A stout woman stood there, hand on her hip, her expression hard as she scanned the room, the tavern’s soft light glinting off the metal of the hook that replaced her left hand. Liam barely spared her a glance, his entire focus remained on the game she was interrupting.

  “Comin’, Mistress Boone,” the woman at Liam’s table replied, her tone unhurried as she collected her winnings in a pouch.

  “No, you can’t just leave!” he protested, panic clear in his voice. “We were playing. I…I was going to win!” He stood now, toppling his chair.

  “No you weren’t, you fool,” the newcomer admonished him, with a shake of her head, then spoke again to the pirate, “you leave the rest be. Cap’n was clear on you and your gamblin’ on this trip.” He was standing right next to her, so Liam caught a flash of anger in the woman’s features that smoothed away before he was quite sure it was even there. His opponent got up from the table, leaving at least half her winnings behind without hesitation. With a mutter, the rest of the Silence’s crew that was in the tavern began to get up to leave. It took only a moment, and then all the women were gone.

  The men sat staring at the unclaimed coins on the dice table. Liam grabbed a handful and got out of the way just as the other patrons were moving in to try to claim their own. A lucky night indeed—now he could afford a few more nights of drinking before he’d have to worry about the lack of plunder his crew was hunting down. He left the Rusty Anchor tavern and the ruckus of a brawl behind him, thinking that he might even be able to pay for a night of company with what he’d claimed.

  A handful of steps from the tavern’s door, he stopped, his feet rooted to the spot as he watched a group of women approach. At the center was an average-looking woman, short with long, messy hair and skin tanned and lined by sun and wind. A smattering of scars sat like pale freckles on the left side of her face, and he glimpsed a spiraling tattoo intertwined with them that disappeared down her neck into her shirt and up into her hairline. A smirk sat on her thin lips. The light caught in her eyes and they shone like those of a cat. Liam felt a tremor run through him, fear hard and cold in his belly. This, this was her—the She-Wolf. She looked at him, a predator glancing at prey. A sensation of frigid fingers running over his back sent his mind racing with thoughts of a watery grave. He barely noticed the warm trickle that ran down his legs and into his boots. His heart thudded in his chest like a hammer trying to burst through his ribs. Coins fell to the urine-soaked ground. He caught her satisfied grin and then she turned her attention away. He’d never been so afraid in his life.