Nicolas hadn't realized he had been holding his breath. He was hidden in a bush right outside one of the guest hut's little windows, following the conversation that was taking place inside. The name Dan Harrison didn't ring a bell, so he was fairly sure they had never met. His own cover would have been blown immediately otherwise. Yet there was something strangely familiar in the man's voice that Nicolas couldn't quite place.

The story about Admiral Morton and Admiral Heron being old friends was new to him as well, but it wasn't impossible. Since he couldn't see what was going on inside, he could only guess at Captain Blake's reaction to the mentioning of a tideheart being needed. This was another yarn every sailor had heard at least once in his life: the Sea Goddess' daughters, the mermaids, sometimes visited the human world and fell in love with a mortal man. The poor fellow didn't know this, of course, because the mermaids could change their shapes to look like normal, albeit irresistibly beautiful women. All the children they had together were normal humans, safe for their first-born who was neither a true mermaid nor a human, but a tideheart. They inherited the incredible powers the Sea Goddess had bestowed upon her mermaid daughters, but every time they used it, it would take up part of their human soul, which was, as everyone knew, a gift of the Fire God. When their human soul was completely gone, their body would transform into that of a mermaid, and they would go into the sea to join their mothers. Nicolas had heard this tale often enough and had always, since he didn't believe in mermaids, seen it as a warning of too much power corrupting a person irrevocably and eventually being their doom.

But what if those legendary tidehearts really existed? Nicolas was immediately reminded of the Siren's Call moving through the fog without any wind. What if someone aboard, maybe the mysterious M'Bato, was a real tideheart, commanding the wind and waves?

His heart raced. This sounded just wrong. Sailors could tell stories of mermaids, sea monsters, and ship's kobolds all they wanted, but there had never been any prove anywhere that supernatural powers truly existed in this world. It was all charlatanry and superstition in the end.

"So you're saying you know where the chart is, Captain Blake?" Dan Harrison was just saying.
Nicolas took a deep breath and focussed on listening.

"Yes. I'll give it to my first mate and she'll determine the locations of the other six pieces, if they are really written down on it. When Captain Shian Fu arrives, we split up." He didn't add that Heron's piece of the chart was staying with him and that he wouldn't even dream of showing it to the others, but his tone was clear.

Captain Lavertine had noticed this as well. "So once we have all the pieces, we'll meet up again, put them together and start this expedition toward the unknown world together. We'll split everything we find fairly, as the pirate code dictates."

"Of course," Captain Blake replied. "Any true pirate will adhere to it."

Nicolas just knew that Captain Blake was looking at Harrison now, trying to find out what his real intentions were. The suspicion of him being another spy for Albia was just too strong after this very unrealistic tale of eavesdropping on Admiral Morton. Nicolas' own story had been far better. Although it had been a clever gambit to tell the pirate captains that there were secret agents out to infiltrate them. Nicolas would be even more careful from now on.

"Then it's settled." It was Captain Lavertine again. "We'll wait for Shian Fu. If you need us, cher Capitaine Blake, you know where to find us. My invitation still stands." Nicolas heard a hint of an undertone there and guessed that this was not about a cup of wine. The postscriptum in the secret letter had also hinted at a more intimate relationship. Nicolas realized that it was bothering him far more than it should have.

The rustling of clothing told him that the men were standing up, ready to leave the hut. Nicolas ducked deeper into the bushes, slowly moving away from the hut into the jungle. When he was sure it would be safe, he straightened himself and looked for the path through the jungle to go back into the beach.

***

Nicolas had made his way through the jungle for a few minutes already, trying to come to terms with the things he had just heard. He had no idea how to proceed now with this newfound knowledge. From here, he couldn't get any secret message back to Admiral Morton, and even if he could, what should he tell him? The story about the tideheart was far too crazy and without proof whatsoever. But maybe he could try to get more out of John about this matter. Now the cook's reluctance to talk about the strange movements of the ships made sense.

There were so many secrets surrounding Captain Blake and his crew that Nicolas admitted to himself how much he had gotten sidetracked from his mission with every passing day. His mission... had it really been just a few short weeks ago that he had been back in Albia, speaking with Admiral Morton about it? Now it felt like it had been in another life altogether. Nicolas knew how dangerous this situation was. He could lose himself in this false identity he had invented if he didn't focus himself on his goal. But there was so much unexpected beauty amidst the danger: the free pirate life, places like this island, Captain Blake's cold eyes getting slightly hazy with suppressed passion when...

A strange noise that had nothing to do with the rustling of the leaves or the shrieking of the birds made Nicolas stop suddenly. He was standing next to a very big, old tree, its trunk spun with vines like a barrel in a net. He looked up and saw a huge, golden cat with black spots on its fur crouching on a big branch a few yards above him. Its green-gold eyes glowed in the shadows of the jungle. The beast was about the size of a big man.

Now he knew what a jaguar was.

Nicolas reached for the pistol at his belt, grateful that he had reloaded it just this morning. The jaguar tensed up and pounced on him, claws extended, razor-like teeth bared. Nicolas didn't have any time to aim, so he just shot. The jaguar gave a pained grunt and missed him by a few steps, but it was up on its paws again in seconds, hissing at him. A very small, bloody wound at its shoulder indicated that Nicolas hadn't missed. But all he had managed to do was making the beast angry.

Reloading the pistol was out of the question. Nicolas just let go of it and pulled his saber just in time to hold it in front of him to block the jaguar's attack. The force of the onslaught let him fall on his back, the jaguar right on top of him. He could smell its hot, stinking breath as it tried to bite down on his neck, ignoring the sharp edge of the saber digging into its skin as it came closer and closer.

A shot rang through the air. The jaguar shrieked again and let go of Nicolas, turning around to attack the shooter. Nicolas, weapon still in hand, tried to get up from the soft, humid ground and saw Captain Blake, rapier in one hand, dagger in the other, calmly waiting for the jaguar. With a quick movement, he let the beast pounce onto him and stabbed both blades into the unprotected belly before the jaguar could even touch him. The beast fell to the ground in almost eerie silence.

Slowly, Nicolas propped himself up on his elbow and tried to catch his breath. He stared at Captain Blake, who took a crisp, white handkerchief out of his right sleeve and started to wipe the blood off his rapier. Nicolas now had time to realize that there was a tiny, smoking pistol attached to the rapier's grip, an incredibly clever invention that had just saved his life. He was about to say something when a bush behind Captain Blake rustled slightly. Without any warning noise, another jaguar, this one even bigger than the first, jumped out of the foliage and attacked Captain Blake from behind.

Nicolas could not remember how he was suddenly up on his feet, saber back in hand. He ran toward the beast, ramming his blade deep into its back. The jaguar let go of Captain Blake and turned around, hissing in pain. But it was not mortally wounded yet. Nicolas took a few steps back since he was now unarmed.

"Here!" A dagger came flying in his direction, pinning itself into the ground just a feet away. Nicolas ducked to grab it as the jaguar pounced onto him. This time, he didn't try to block the beast's attack, but rammed the dagger into its throat, ignoring the pain as sharp claws raked at this upper arm. The jaguar fell atop of him and squeezed the air out of Nicolas' lungs. With a grunt, he tried to push the heavy cadaver off, feeling another pair of hands helping him a moment later. Captain Blake was standing in front of him, his white clothes and wig blood-spattered. Now he truly looked like a creature from a nightmare.

"Are you hurt?" Nicolas wheezed and slowly came to his feet again.

Captain Blake briefly inspected his tattered left sleeve. "And you?"

Nicolas careful felt his upper right arm. There were some deep gashes on his skin under the shredded cloth. "Nothing serious, I think," he answered. "Thank you for saving my life."

Captain Blake's eyes narrowed. "You saved mine as well, so we've even now. Didn't John warn you about the jaguars?"

"He did," Nicolas admitted. "But I'm at the Akalus for the first time and got sidetracked. I'm sorry, Sir."

Captain Blake eyed him sharply as if to determine if he was being lied to. Nicolas felt a drop of sweat trickle down his own temple.

Finally, Captain Blake turned around, crouched, and pulled his dagger from the jaguar's throat. "Get your weapon," he ordered. "We'll get cleaned up."

Nicolas pulled his saber from the jaguar's cadaver before he followed Captain Blake deeper into the jungle. This time, he had both his weapons at the ready, the frenzy of the fight making him jump at every little noise the jungle made. But there were just some of these beautiful, colorful birds, some tiny monkeys or a little lizard here and were, scaling a tree trunk.

Finally, the thick foliage gave way to a clearing. Nicolas could hear it before he saw it: a little lake with a waterfall. The water descended from a plateau about two dozen feet above them where the jungle continued as far as the eye could see. A tiny white beach led into the crystal-clear water.

Nicolas had never seen a more beautiful place.

He didn't realize that he was standing there and gawking like a bumpkin until a splashing noise pulled him out of his reverie. Captain Blake had washed the blood off his rapier and dagger and was now shedding his blood-soaked clothes and wig. A moment later, he had waded into the shallow water toward the waterfall.

Nicolas had never undressed this quickly in his life. He took some half-hearted care to clean his own saber as well before he followed Captain Blake into the water.

Since the waterfall was so small, Captain Blake had no problem standing right under it to let the water rain down onto his body. The blood was washed off rather quickly, but he stayed where he was, right under the waterfall, eyes closed.

Nicolas was once again staring. He had seen Captain Blake naked before, of course, but never completely. This was the very first time that Captain Blake had actually taken his shirt off. The bandage around his left arm covered almost the whole length of it, but the jaguar's attack had torn the fabric and maybe opened the wound underneath again.

"Does it hurt?" Nicolas stepped closer.

Captain Blake looked at him. With the long hair sleeked back from his face and with the eye patch gone as well, there was nothing left but the clean-cut, beautiful lines of his face. Water ran down his skin, catching in the corners of his eyes.

"I know that you eavesdropped on us," Captain Blake said. "I want to know why. Are you one of those alleged agents of the Empress that Harrison talked about?"

Nicolas shook his head. "I listened, yes. But only because I..."

"You what?"

Because I was worried about you. Because I was jealous. But he couldn't say that, of course.
"Because I wanted to know if I recognized this Harrison character back from my days in the navy. But I don't. If I had, I would have told you right away. Besides, I just saved your life. Don't I deserve a bit of trust?"

Captain Blake smirked. "You're right. You've earned your place among my crew. So I'll leave it at that - for the moment." He held out his bandaged arm. "And no, it doesn't hurt. Wrap the bandages tighter."

Nicolas obeyed and took the loose parts of the cloth to secure the bandage in place. The soaked cloth was clean, and there was no blood seeping through as he had feared.

"An injury from a fight, I guess?" So far, he had never dared to ask, but now, after escaping death two times within two seconds, he needed to know.

Captain Blake's face was unreadable. "You could say so. Every victory comes at a cost."

He wanted to pull his arm away as soon as Nicolas was finished, but Nicolas held onto it and pulled Captain Blake close to him.

For a few moments, they stood there, their naked, wet bodies pressed against each other. Nicolas felt his breath quicken. Captain Blake's face had never been this close to his own.

Despite everything that had happened between them in bed, Captain Blake had never allowed a simple kiss on the mouth. He could see every tiny unevenness of the skin around the scar over the left eye, and the way it cut the eyebrow in two halves. The left eye, although fixing on him, had a slightly milky pupil up close. This made Nicolas suddenly realize that it was, although intact, indeed either blind or severely damaged. Nicolas had already wondered how Captain Blake could measure distances and fight this well despite the eye patch. But it wasn't just a clever disguise.

Before he knew what he was doing, Nicolas had leaned down and kissed the scarred eyelid. Captain Blake closed his eyes on impulse, but didn't pull back. Thus encouraged, Nicolas softly kissed his way down from the eye to the cheek, feeling the hint of stubble grating his own skin. When he had almost reached the lips, he stopped. This wasn't his decision.

Captain Blake opened his eyes again, something like indignation flashing in them.

"Your orders, Sir?" Nicolas whispered against his lips.

Calloused, cold fingers suddenly touched his cheeks, holding him in place.

"You may call me Alastair when we're alone."

The kiss was wet, a bit desperate, and utterly wonderful. Nicolas suddenly knew that he never wanted to kiss anyone else in this life. He pulled Captain Blake, no, Alastair even closer, running his hands down his back and tangling his fingers in wet strands of silky hair.

A tiny, nagging voice inside Nicolas' head told him that this was his country's worst enemy, a criminal and rebel, whom he had sworn to defeat by all costs. But it was squashed quickly under a tide of passion.

Nicolas knew he was falling, and he didn't care.