Anna struggled to keep up with the pace. The house was dark and full of shadows, although at times the moonlight slanted in through a rain-spattered window. She stumbled often, but there was no sign of recognition in either of her brothers, who simply kept going. They obviously knew where they were headed.

She could feel the locket pressing into the palm of her hand, leaving a mark as she clutched it tight in her fist. All hell had broken loose outside the solid walls of the house, and she knew that wherever she was being led, it would probably be to some safe hiding place. But there were no safe hiding places for Anna, not when it came to the events that had just taken place. Why had her father torn the necklace from her? What did it all mean, and what was he afraid of, or avoiding? She could feel herself growing even more entangled in things she barely even understood, that had obviously been set in motion long before she was even capable of understanding.

They came to an abrupt stop in front of a bare wall. Luke stepped back three paces, then gave a mighty kick that opened a door set seamlessly into the wood. Anna’s heart began to crash and rebel in her chest, although she was not surprised. She twisted her arm away from Jesse’s hold and tried to run, but Luke barred the way almost immediately, as though he had been expecting it.

“Luke! No! You can’t…please…I don’t want to go…” Terrified, she backed away, only to bump into Jesse. Anna began to cry, the tears searing her face and her sight blurring as she gasped for breath. She had to get away. She couldn’t let them do this.

“Anna…we have to do it. You have to go.” She could see nothing in Luke’s eyes but an unwavering decision. Jesse was the same.

“Sis. There is no other way. We can’t take you with us.”

“Yes you can! I can fight! Why do I have to stay?” A rush of freezing air came billowing in from the gaping hole in the wall. Anna nearly cried out, but the sound rasped in her throat and dissolved into nothing.

“Anna, please…there isn’t much time. We have to make sure you’re safe.” Luke began to push her purposefully towards the wall, and Jesse watched her carefully, anticipating her reaction. Just as he had predicted, Anna bolted. Jesse didn’t need to say anything, and neither did Luke. With their hearts in their throats, they took her by a wrist and an ankle and dragged her back to the entrance. Anna thrashed and fought, but in vain. Her brothers had grown up on the sea, and she was no match for them in strength.

“We love you, Sis.”

The cutlass hilt hit home in the right place.

Lee had been watching the house. The shore was thick with soldiers and pirates, and cannon fire rang sharp and smoldering in the air. But he stood against the howling wind, waiting. Finally, he saw something: two shadows leaving, hugging the darkness as they made their way down to the cove. Lee made a running leap and cut the rope that held the last jolly boat to the flagship, landing in it just in time. Boat and passenger hit the churning water with a cold splash. Furiously, as though racing with time, he rowed towards the enemy ship that had been moored nearest.

“Find Father,” Luke called, struggling to be heard above the horrific noise. Jesse nodded, but hesitated. He drew his cutlass, the blade glittering with drops of rain and an undeniable sharpness. He angled the tip at the hollow of Luke’s throat and stood solidly in the middle of the path.

“Don’t get killed,” said Jesse. Luke paused, momentarily startled. But he drew his own cutlass, and crossed it with his brother’s. Jesse returned the blade to its sheath and left, sprinting down the hillside through the curtain of rain.

A peal of thunder, followed by lightning that tore through the turbulent sky, could hardly drown out the sound of fighting. Luke squinted, the fog blurring everything but the most prominent shapes in the distance. He counted the forest of masts that towered above the cove, biting down his misgivings. They were not vastly outnumbered, but the Royal Navy had sailed in with three of their most valuable and dangerous battleships. The cannons were deafening, and the roaring of the sea seemed to agree with him as he tried to sort through his thoughts and find a plan worth pursuing. A plan that didn’t involve getting himself killed...

Luke looked over his shoulder just once at the looming hulk of the house he had just left and locked. He thought of Anna, and hoped his father had been right, to give that order. He hoped he had been right, to follow it. Somewhere in the deepest recesses of his mind, a light had been flickering, fighting the cold wash of rain and forgetfulness. A memory was surfacing: a memory from his childhood. He knew it had something to do with her, with Anna. His sister...his sister for so long, for as long as he had known, of course. There was no other explanation... Luke stepped back as a cannon ball hurtled just inches from his head, its whistle whining in his ears. He fell flat on the ground and crawled to the edge of the cliff as it made impact some yards behind him. Turning back to the house, Luke was relieved to see that it had been missed.

Lee slowed as his little boat pulled up alongside a row of portholes. Faintly, he could read the flowing script carved into the hull: Medrana. He searched through the haze for a rope left dangling and found one, then rowed himself over quickly. In a few minutes he had hoisted himself on its sodden deck, which was rolling and protesting with every angry motion of the sea. Lee didn’t bother to hide. Few sentries had been left on board, and they were disposed of quickly enough. Unfortunately, the last one had gotten a firm grip on the ship’s alarm bell and had managed to give it a few good tugs. The sound ripped through the night, and Lee knew it would be heard even above the fighting. Soon he could be surrounded. He rammed his shoulder against the cabin door until it gave way, then ran into the darkness inside. It was dry there, and he felt for the tinderbox and flint in his pocket. It would be simple. But he had to do it fast. Whipping out the machete that had helped him hack through a hundred marches, he let his eyes adjust and slowly began to recognize shapes in the small room. A table, a few chairs... Lee chopped off a table leg, the resounding thud muffled by another crack of lightning. He struck the flint, and watched the sparks fly.

Luke had turned his back on the battle for a mere minute when he sensed something strange was happening. The sky had taken on a different glow: not the eerie half-light of a storm, or the smothered moonlight through a cloud of smoke, but something else. A faint orange tint had spread, illuminating the scene below him with frightening clarity.

And then Luke began to run, faster than he ever had. He flew down the slippery trail to the beach now strewn with the bodies and weapons of the slain. Medrana was burning.