Days later, the merchant ship Le Marquis de la Mer sailed through the warm Caribbean waters en route to Hispaniola, its sails billowing in the tailwind and the sun pouring down like liquid gold over the creaking wooden deck. On board, a cargo of roasted coffee sacks, metal tools, fine fabrics, and European clothing—including French corsets and lingerie—filled the air with a heady mixture of aromas. The ship had a double destination: the ports of Hispaniola and, discreetly, the clandestine routes toward the Spanish viceroyalties.
Although the voyage was supposed to be calm, tension hung in the air. From atop the mast, the lookout scanned the horizon with a hand over his brow, alert for any suspicious silhouette that might signal the presence of privateers, pirates, or even warships. At every creak of the hull or shift in the wind, the sailors exchanged nervous glances, knowing that in these waters, any shadow might be their last.
On deck, the sailors busied themselves under the boatswain's orders: securing ropes, checking barrels, and keeping the vessel in order. Among them were Sammy, Cody, and Kayin, who had secured passage to Hispaniola in exchange for work aboard the ship. But unlike the rest of the crew, the dangers of the sea sparked more excitement than fear in them—except for Cody.
During a break in the day's tasks, they huddled in a shaded corner of the deck to eat and talk.
"So, what's the plan once we reach Hispaniola?" asked Kayin.
"The plan is: once we're in Le Cap-Français, we take a sloop to Tortuga," Sammy replied with enthusiasm, her eyes gleaming as if she already saw the harbor filled with black sails and taverns brimming with stories. "We find a pirate ship, sign on, and that's it. The sea will set us free!"
Cody, chewing a piece of hard bread, frowned.
"I'm not thrilled about cannon fire and chases. I like peace and quiet. If all goes well in Le Cap-Français, I'll stay there. I wasn't born to be shot by a musket or lose a leg to a cannon blast."
"In that case, you should've gone to Boston to become a farmer." Sammy replied .
"That was the plan, until I crossed paths with you."
Sammy gave him a reproachful look.
"I didn't ask you to follow me or rescue me" she said.
"If it hadn't been for me, you'd still be in that dungeon."
"Then stay wherever you damn please!"
Cody shook his head and turned to Kayin.
"What about you? What's your plan?" he asked.
Kayin, leaning against a barrel, looked up at the clouds.
"I don't have options. Anywhere I set foot without proof that I'm a free man, they could chain me. Tortuga sounds dangerous, but it's better than being someone's property again… and if Aunt Betty puts a price on my head, they'll hunt me down in Tortuga or Nassau. So yes, Sammy—if you sign on a pirate ship, I'm with you."
Sammy gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder.
"As long as you're with me, no one will lay a finger on you, Kayin. I swear it. You're a true friend. Not like somebody else."
Cody squinted and scowled.
"Good luck to both of you… I'll include you in my prayers," he said.
"Keep your prayers and shove them up your ass!" snapped Sammy, giving him a shove, which Cody returned with another.
Kayin smiled and tried to calm things down.
"What do you plan to do with the navigation charts and the journal you're carrying?" he asked.
"How do you know about that?" Sammy asked, alarmed.
"In Kingsport I heard about the journal… and Cody told me the rest."
Sammy glared at Cody.
"Blabbermouth! I wouldn't be surprised if half the ship already knows."
"He's part of the crew," Cody said in his defense.
Sammy adjusted her seat and looked around cautiously.
"That's my second plan: to figure out what we're carrying... if you've read my grandfather's latest novel."
"The one he wrote under a pseudonym?... No, I didn't read it, but Cody told me about that too."
"Merciful God!... Is there anything you haven't blabbed?" Sammy exclaimed, rolling her eyes.
Cody shrugged.
"My plan is, after we find my grandfather, to decipher the cryptic parts of the journal and understand the navigation charts, then head off in search of Verbeck's treasure. Just imagine if..." —he lowered his voice— "if we actually find it… we'd be richer than the kings of England and Spain put together!"
"You're dreaming. That thing doesn't exist," Cody snapped.
"Oh, come on… will you ever open that narrow mind of yours?"
"I'm a realist. First: if that treasure existed, it'd already be in the hands of the Spanish Empire. Second: an expedition like that needs financing, and we're a trio of broke nobodies. And third," —he paused— "it's madness. It might take our whole lives to find it and we might never succeed. Or worse: we could die trying."
"O ye of little faith…" said Sammy. "If you won't come with me, I'll find someone who will. There must be thousands of pirates willing to help."
"They'd slit your throat before they help you... You're a romantic fool."
"Maybe. But it gives me purpose. I won't end up pushing a plow in the north... or working as a whore in some Kayona brothel."
Cody squinted.
"What do you think of this madness?" he asked Kayin, who just shrugged.
"There's something… I haven't told you," he said, lowering his voice. The two leaned in closer. "After the Carioca visited Aunt Betty..."
"The witch," Sammy muttered. Cody gave her a stern look to be quiet.
"When the pirate left, Aunt Betty pulled out her tarot cards. I spied on her. From what I heard, the cards spoke of a great journey, hidden forces… something that has awakened and is gathering power."
The three fell silent. Only the sounds of the ship and the sailors' murmurs filled the air.
"If it weren't real," Sammy said, "it wouldn't have caught the attention of someone as pragmatic as the Carioca… or that witch."
"Or the Spanish Empire," added Kayin.
"Exactly. Which makes me think that book is the key to something big—something real."
Cody grabbed his hair in exasperation.
"Heaven help me, you're insufferable! Don't you see? That damn book is the cause of all our problems. It's cursed… Maybe it's the key to waking Beelzebub himself and all his demons! We should throw it overboard!... If you want to chase after adventure, good luck. I'm getting a ship to Boston and living out my days with my feet firmly on the ground."
"Easy there, grandma," said Sammy.
"I'll back you in finding your grandfather. And we'll go after the treasure. Maybe we won't find a thing, but... at least we'll have something to tell," said Kayin.
Sammy smiled.
"It's a deal. And along the way, we'll see the world... Maybe we'll visit Cody in Massachusetts—if the savages haven't scalped him yet!"
The work bell rang. Sammy stood and went back to her post, leaving Cody and Kayin in silence. The sea lapped gently against the hull, marking the passage of time.
Cody finally broke the silence, almost in a whisper:
"Don't take what Sammy says too seriously. She's a dreamer. Obsessed with finding her grandfather… and those damn adventures."
"She told me you used to share games and dreams. What changed?"
Cody stood up, gazing at the sea dyed crimson by the sunset.
"Reality. After the attack on Tiburon Bay, I realized the world is a pile of shit."
Kayin frowned.
"Shit is being born someone's property. Being a thing. Having no dreams, no future. Longing for freedom without knowing how to reach it. I know she's a little crazy, but... I don't have any other choice," he said with a shrug.
Cody looked at him, lips pressed. He was about to reply when the boatswain's shout interrupted them:
"Hey, you lot! Back to work! Don't make me pull out the cat o' nine tails! You, Blackie—to the rigging! And you, blond runt—to the deck! Vite, ou le fouet t'attend!"
The boys hurried to obey.