Johnny was glad to be shipboard again. Too many months on dry land can make one lose the sea legs. The business with Rum, and the vengeance, was at last done for, and he was relieved.

Two Fingers knew Captain Morgan - some sort of past together; Johnny wasn't going to pry just yet. He looked around at the men - a typical batch of pirates, some hardened by the years, some young lads with no futures on the farms they'd left. It wasn't a lax ship, and there seemed to be sufficent respect for Captain Morgan. Good. Johnny wasn't sure what he was getting Bea - er, Beau - into.

But it was probably just as well for her sake that she was coming along. Just like Rum had friends in high places, Captain Zach still had his shipmates ashore, and the Vixen was going to be suspect, as that was the last place either man had been seen alive.

Two Fingers introduced them to Captain Morgan.

The Captain was a tall, stocky, darkhaired man with a patch over one eye and a goatee. He bore himself with dignity, without pretension. He had a presence about him.

His eyes flickered over Bea. "Can you read?"

Bea nodded.

"Good. Because you'll need to; the charts and all. I understand Johnny here navigates, too. And a map, I understand." He didn't refer any more to that, but simply gave a knowing smile.

"I already have a ship's navigator, but he's ailing and his vision ain't what it used to be, so, Johnny, we'll use you too. Beau, you'll be learning under Erik and under Johnny. Johnny, you'll also be working in the rigging. And except for working with Erik, Beau, you stick by Two Fingers and Johnny."

The captain cast his eyes out to sea. Ships bobbed at anchor. Johnny followed his gaze. A storm had passed offshore, a mile or so away, and the waters had grown roughened even here.

Captain Morgan followed his glance. The sun had only been up an hour or so, now. "Any further business ashore? I'm of a mind to cast off soon, now that that storm has gone by out there."

"Nope. I dare say not," said Johnny.

After the business at the Vixen, he and Bea had gone to his room to collect the few things he needed - clothing, his own set of charts, a couple surplus pistols and his other sword. Important stuff. Then, they'd met up with Two Fingers who'd gotten them on the Dirty Secret.

"Right. Erik?"

Erik was an old man, who sometimes used a cane. With a start, Johnny realized he recognized him.

"Erik TrueEye?"

The taciturn old man nodded. If he remembered Johnny, he gave no clue.

Erik had aged a lot in the past five years. But Erik had always navigated by more senses than just the visual. It was, he knew, the feel of the ship, the sense of the air, the sounds of the waves. Erik had been legendary in his time, charting his way through dangerous shoals in the thick of fog, escaping pursuit. Johnny had met the man in a tavern off some distant island, five years ago, and they'd traded tall tales, some of them true.

The old man had the wisdom of the sea instilled into him, a wisdom that never quite spilled over onto other areas of his life. Erik was a sucker for losing his money ashore, for starters.

Beau would be safe around him. He'd never be the wiser.

Captain Morgan was shouting orders, and men began to scramble. They'd be weighing anchor soon. Two Fingers had already gone off to help. Johnny brought Bea back below decks to the bunkhouse. Seeing that no one else was there, he gave her a kiss and a smile. "I'll slip back down as soon as I can. But I gotta be hauling rope about now."