Free The Pirates and the Nightmaker by James Norcliffe

telling me. It was something a very deep part of me had dreaded and anticipated all along.
    ‘But …’
    ‘You see,’ added Mr Wicker, ‘I was very grateful for yourinvaluable help in allowing me to escape from the jolly-boat . Indeed, I’m sure escape would not have been possible without that help. I’m sure, too, that at the time you were more than happy to evade the knives of your crewmates …’
    That much was true, at least.
    ‘However, it must not be supposed that your use for me is therefore at an end, little Loblolly Boy: quite the contrary. This devastating news from Cartagena leads me to suspect that my need for your help is now greater than ever.’
    Once again I had a flashing image of the slave ship we had encountered.
    ‘So,’ he concluded, ‘I could not possibly contemplate returning you to the being you once were, to return you to the custody of that drunken fool Hatch. Personally, I’m astonished that you could desire such a thing given the wonders of your current situation.’
    I stared at him, knowing with a sinking certainty that further argument would be utterly useless.
    ‘You see,’ said Mr Wicker, ‘we are bound together, you and I. I have need of you, and you have need of me.’
    Not true, I thought bitterly. There was no doubt that Mr Wicker had need of me although I could only guess for what future purpose. But did I have need of him? I doubted it, except for one compelling thing: only Mr Wicker, I believed, could give me back my life.
    I left him then. I leapt into the air and for the first time flew in the night sky. Earlier I had flown in a world of blue. Now I flew in a world of darkness, a darkness that suited my feelings of despair. I had thought at first that my newexistence was a dream, a strange exhilarating dream from which sooner or later I would wake.
    Now, I had discovered myself in a nightmare and, I feared, a nightmare from which I might never awake.
    I allowed myself to soar gull-like in the realisation that I was doubly invisible: invisible in the darkness and invisible to the darkness. The knowledge made me increasingly disconsolate and eventually I could bear flying no longer and wheeled back towards the vessel even though the human contact I craved could be satisfied by only two other beings: the frightening Mr Wicker, my new master, and Sophie Blade, a pirate’s daughter whose loyalties I was no longer sure of.
    This time, rather than encounter Mr Wicker again, I landed on the foredeck. The ship lifted and dropped in the very gentle swell and the faint slopping of the sea against the boards was the only sound. Somewhere there would be a watch and a sailor at the helm despite the complete absence of a breeze.
    And, then, there was another sound, and I strained to listen.
    It was a faint muttering. I glanced towards the prow and saw two shapes huddled there in the moonlight. Quickly, I moved towards them and soon realised that Captain Lightower and Dr Hatch had yet to retire for the night. I guessed they had sought somewhere private to discuss their situation and I moved even closer in order to eavesdrop.
    ‘There’re six of our men,’ whispered Captain Lightower, ‘and the two of us …’
    ‘And Mr Wicker?’
    ‘Don’t be a fool, Hatch,’ said Lightower. ‘He’s in league with that damned woman.’
    ‘He’s in league with the devil, more like,’ whispered Hatch.
    ‘They’re both in league with the devil,’ said Lightower.
    There was a silence, a long silence interrupted only by a loud hiccough from Dr Hatch.
    ‘Quiet, damn you,’ hissed Lightower, glancing around apprehensively.
    The doctor gave a small belch and fearing the captain’s wrath quickly and clumsily excused himself.
    There was a long pause, and then, ‘It’s not enough,’ said Lightower.
    ‘I agree.’
    There was a measure of relief in Dr Hatch’s agreement. It was clear to me that the two were discussing their chances of perhaps taking over the ship. This, I thought, was most