The Ghost, an infamous young thief recently turned pirate, walked through the bustling cacophony of Cog’s Meridian on market day.
Polite society knew her by a different name, but she was far from polite society today. Far from expectations and inopportune fiancés.
Beside her, Captain Gearlock kept watch on their surroundings with his clockwork
Aether’s Edge floated demurely across the sky, but inside the dirigible manor’s private study, Kytt Windthorn’s language was anything but ladylike.
“Thomas Edison’s trousers!” Kytt swiped a curl out of her face and pressed her ear to the cold metal door of an Iron Guardian X99. They were finicky under the best circumstances
My Uncle Joe is an overachiever. He’s fulfilled legendary quests for the Queen, survived the krakens of the southern oceans, and is the only merchant who hasn’t been robbed by pirates—if you believe his hours-long tales.
Uncle Joe’s exploits nearly always took place out on the high seas, inaccessible to anyone but
“Are you going to talk like that all day?” Jaqi flipped her hair and scowled at me.
“Aye,” I growled out the corner of my mouth as I attempted a ferocious smile. “How else should one celebrate Talk Like a Pirrrate Day? Arrrr.” I curled my finger into a hook and brandished it
Most people believe rainbows are formed by light refracting through water droplets. They’re wrong. Rainbows are ingenious GPS trackers developed by leprechauns to locate hidden treasures.
It’s time to test my newest invention and prove my hypothesis.
Astride my Harley chopper, I peer through misty rain, scanning the sky for rainbows.
You cannot judge my father by the law of the land. The crimes your witnesses claim he committed at sea either did not happen or were done out of necessity. I stand before your honor, high on the quarterdeck, and the assembled “victims” in this court, clinging to the mahogany taffrail…
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“Em! This wardrobe is perfect for your new apartment!” Gillian waved emphatically at a cedar monstrosity.
Scowling at her exuberant friend, Em pointed to deep scratches marring the doors. “Why would I want something that looks like it picked a fight with raccoons and lost?”
“We can sand those out. It’ll look vintage.”
“He serves the devil, you know.”
Clay, the child they had captured three days prior, shifted on the bench as Captain Thomas Kalapser stared him down. “I know.” A slight breeze entered the open window of the cabin, catching the corners of the maps strewn upon the table behind him.
“Then why?”
“Perhaps the necromancer’s asleep?” asked One-Legged Val.
From a distance, the necromancer’s ship looked abandoned, dark except for the giant glowing diamond shining from the masthead like a full moon. The crew of Nevermore floated in deep water off the coast of Dogshead Isle, their lanterns doused and sails tied down, transfixed
“Ready when you are, Cap’n Muldoon.”
My first mate O’Hara squints expectantly through his good eye, the other covered with a black patch. The crew of the Muirgen clusters behind him, waiting for my signal.
Our target, the whaling ship Pawtuxet, flounders on the choppy gray sea, her mast shattered by a well-placed
I clutch the chest of stardust, staring at the space battle raging above. My crew on the Nebula is almost overwhelmed by Nova Alliance soldiers, even with the space-kraken crumpling their boarding vessel in its tentacles.
Breathless, I scoop up a handful of the glittering stardust, heedless of the blood on my skin
I check my star-compass and adjust the Nebula’s course, following the needle toward a small, oddly shaped moon. The double suns to our stern stretch my shadows across the deck as I lean around the mainsail to see. At first, stardust seems to glow around the rock, but as we approach,
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