Free Phoenix Rising by Bryony Pearce

tore his gaze from the warship and saw the captain running for the bridge. He was right, the crew had frozen, waiting like junk to be taken as salvage. He offered Hiko a shaky smile. “Everything’s going to be fine, but I’ve got to go. Do you want me to take you back down below first?”
    Hiko shook his head. “I’ll wait here.”
    Toby was already backing towards the rigging. “Stay safe.” He turned and ran.
    Ahead, Carson yelled instructions for tying the sail, and the pirates swarmed up the front port mast to join those who were already wrestling with it. The wind had gripped the silver material and it was being dragged outwards as fast as the crew could gather it in.
    The billowing sheet dragged the Phoenix to one side and the port paddle began to churn air, uselessly. The Phoenix began to turn in a circle.
    Toby groaned as several tied loops pulled free. Swiftly he grabbed the rigging and started to climb. Despite the rain lashing his eyes he spotted Dee at his side. She hurtled up the ropes as though the storm was nothing more than a gentle breeze at her back. She swung to catch the next stay, holding it still so that Toby could follow her.
    “I’m fine,” he shouted.
    “I know.” Still she made sure that his fingers and toes closed around the hemp before climbing onwards.
    On Toby’s shoulder Polly made herself as small as possible, tucking in her wings and refusing to allow the wind any purchase. Nervous squawks drove Toby upwards until he reached the sail, wrapped his legs around the fibreglass pole and leaned over to help catch the flying sheet.
    Beside him Big Pad grimly reeled sailcloth into his giant hands before tucking it into loops and lashing it tightly. Toby could not imagine the wind taking anything Big Pad had secured. Toby reached out to gather the slick material and began to pass it directly to Big Pad, wordlessly operating in partnership. To his right Marcus and Dee copied their system, Dee leaning overthe mast, Marcus tying the gathered sail. Carson gave them a thumbs up.
    Slowly the sail began to shrink – the pirates were winning.
    A strong gust almost tumbled Polly from Toby’s shoulders. He grabbed the parrot and tucked her inside his shirt. “Better?”
    She blinked up at him, her eyes glittering in the glow of the storm. “Who’s a pretty birdie?” she muttered miserably.
    Toby wrapped his fist around another handful of cloth. Exhaustion was setting in, his legs were tired and his perch slippery. But he had to keep pulling in the sail.
    Then every pirate froze. The sound they had been dreading screamed across the waves. The Banshee was wailing.
    Nisha broke first. “We’re going to die.” She dropped her end of the sail, grabbed the rigging and began to shimmy down the mast.
    “Nisha, wait!” Carson reached for the sail she had dropped. The wind caught him as he leaned and pulled him off balance. With a cry, Carson threw his arms around the mast, but let go of the sail.
    Toby watched in mute horror as the wind swept beneath the sailcloth. It bulged under the material and yanked it from the hands of the pirates.
    “Hold on,” Toby screamed. But the pirates had the sail held in loosened hands, their attention on the howling Banshee .
    Pop, pop, pop.
    As each tie was ripped free, the Phoenix ’s sail opened and the pirates were yanked from the mast with it.
    Screaming men and women were hurled into the rigging or smashed into the deck with the crunch of brittle bones breaking.
    Dee and Big Pad, on either side of Toby, met one another’s gaze with wide eyes. Dee reached for Toby, but before her hand could close on his shoulder, Marcus was torn from his perch by the heaving sail and sent flying into the rigging. As he pin-wheeled, his flying foot caught Dee’s shoulder, and she went spinning after him.
    The sail reared in front of Toby. He had time to see Dee and Marcus clinging safely to the tangled cord before Big Pad’s thick arms wrapped around Toby’s waist. For a