The assembled crew created an impressive front, Trixie decided, studying the ragtag group of sailors that comprised the crew of the Straight Arrow. They didn't have the benefit of matching uniforms, of course, not like the Navy, but, all the same, there was something intimidating about the patches, parrots, and peg legs that the men considered badges of honour.

Hands grasping the railing, Trixie leaned as far forward as she could without toppling into the sea, straining for a glimpse of the Ten Acres. They'd entered the region known as the Pool at first light, and they'd yet to sight any other vessels. It was probably because of their reduced speed, Trixie reminded herself, and didn't know whether to be grateful or frustrated that stiff breeze that had propelled them for the last day had dwindled to short puffs of air that moved the ship forward and then left it to struggle on its own.

"They're here," Esau told her, his eyes trained on a point on the horizon several degrees away from where Trixie was looking.

Pivoting so quickly that she almost lost her balance, Trixie followed Esau's line of sight and spotted a dark patch on the horizon. She'd have found it sooner if she'd been in the crow's next, she told herself, scowling, but Dan had flat-out refused to allow her to place herself in such a precarious position as they sailed toward some of the most dangerous waters known to the European world.

It was a good thing that she hadn't really wanted to be in the crow's nest.

It was, after all, entirely too far from the action.

"Are you sure that's the Ten Acres?" Trixie asked, squinting against the bright glare of sunlight. Something about the shape on the horizon didn't seem right. It was too elongated, she realized. Or was it just a trick of the light?

"Aye. That be the Ten Acres," Esau replied, but he frowned as he said it.

"Then what are—"

"Pirate ships," Dan informed her grimly, joining them as they stood at the rail. "Three of them. They're flanking the Ten Acres."

Trixie's eyes widened as she strained to verify what Dan was saying. It did explain why the shape on the horizon was so odd…

"I didn't realize that the Pool was so big," Trixie commented, wishing that the ships were closer. Being able to see them, but not do anything, was torture. A dull ache that was both physical and emotional weighed her down, and she considered the possibility that she would actually die of impatience before they could reach the other ships.

"T'won't be long," Esau said, drawing her attention away from the vessels and pointing at a cloud. "The wind will drive us toward 'em."

Sure enough, within minutes Trixie could hear the sails begin to flutter, and then to puff as the light breeze became a gust. A flurry of activity had the crew trimming the lines and making the most of the wind. She could feel the tightly coiled tension of both the men and the ship as they sailed to take their chances in the Pool. Curiosity warred with caution as they skirted the water that appeared darker than it should. As if the sun couldn't reach below the upper surface.

They were on the cusp, she realized. Of the Pool, and of perhaps their only opportunity to rescue the Ten Acres.

"Steady," Dan whispered, but Trixie knew that every man aboard the Straight Arrow heard him.

But it was impossible for Trixie to steady the rapid beating of her heart, or the surge of both hope and dread that swept through her. Seeing the Ten Acres flanked by three pirate ships was a nightmare. Her concern for Jim was foremost in her mind, but as she looked past the crew of the Straight Arrow, she realized that the Ten Acres held just as many men. She didn't know Jim's crew well, but she knew that they were good men. Good men who had allowed themselves to be placed in an awkward position the last time they'd met and Dan and Jim had conspired to contrive the escape of the Straight Arrow.

She couldn't let harm come to any of them.

The wind continued to blow stronger, sending the Straight Arrow closer to its goal. Gradually the ships became more distinct and Trixie was able to make out the details on the flags. The insignia of the British Navy was easy enough to identify, as were the Jolly Rogers of the other three ships. She frowned, wishing that pirate ships chose to distinguish themselves in some way. How was she to know which pirates had taken the Ten Acres hostage? Couldn't they emblazon the name of their ship over the Jolly Roger? Not that it particularly mattered, she realized glumly. No matter who they were, they needed to be stopped. Still, though, she found that she wanted to know who was so intent on causing them harm.

"Breathe," Dan said, and she felt his hand cover hers as she gripped the railing, leaning over as if to speed the progress of the ship. Her knuckles were white, and it was with difficulty that she loosened her grip.

"This won't be pretty," Esau warned, his eyes on the ships. Though the Straight Arrow was the vessel being propelled forward, it seemed to Trixie's unpracticed eye that the three ships on the horizon were sailing toward them. Were the crews rowing, she wondered? Was whoever was orchestrating this meeting truly that eager to begin the confrontation?

"Every man to his post!" Esau bellowed, and Trixie felt the staggering rush of a gust of wind. The crews on the three vessels approaching them weren't rowing, she realized. All four of them were on the cusp of a strange wind pattern that seemed intent on driving them together.

It was as if the elements had decided to play a role in the altercation.

Which was entirely unfair, Trixie decided, since she—and everyone aboard the Straight Arrow—still didn't even know who all the players were!

A cry went up from the men, and there was a flurry of activity as they adjusted lines and sheets to keep the Straight Arrow upright and pointed in the right direction. It was a losing battle, however. Trixie could sense it and she knew that the crew could feel it too. There was a sense of inevitability in their rapid approach, but Trixie couldn't dwell on it. All she could focus on was making out the identity of the men scrambling to control the Ten Acres.

And then the sun glinted off a shock of red hair, and Trixie knew. She might not be able to make out his features, but she'd know that particular shade of ginger hair anywhere. Across the water, as if he sensed her presence, he turned, frozen.

He had to have seen the Straight Arrow earlier. He had to have. Dan might be a confident captain in full command of his vessel, but Jim could claim the same. Dan had spotted the Ten Acres minutes ago. Jim must have been aware of their arrival for the same amount of time. What could possibly cause the small figure to stiffen and then slouch?

She stared in confusion, surprised by his reaction. When she finally put the pieces together, however, her own spine stiffened and she raised her chin.

"Wishes I hadn't come," she muttered under her breath, releasing her grip on the rail and rubbing her palms over her borrowed breeches to dry them of salt and sweat. "Thinks I should have stayed somewhere safe," she continued, her voice growing in volume. "I'll show him!" she finished, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"Aye, that ye will," Esau asserted. "Ye'll show 'im y'er a poor excuse of a sailor if ye don't hold fast."

The ship lurched and Trixie scrambled to regain her hold on the railing. "What on earth—"

"A vortex," Dan said, the word sounding like an epitaph on his lips.

Trixie's eyes widened. Sure enough, though it wasn't so pronounced as it had been in her nightmare, she could see that the water between the Straight Arrow and the other ships was forming a wide, barely noticeable circle. She had only a moment to observe the phenomena before a shout rose up from the crew and they were a part of the vortex, instead of merely observing it. The ship lurched, and the men fought with the helm and sails. The Straight Arrow, however, firm in the grip of the vortex, was propelled directly toward the Ten Acres and the pirate ships that accompanied it.

"We'll crash," Trixie declared, staring in awed wonder as they sliced through the sea. Though she'd been anxious to get closer to the Ten Acres, she hadn't expected to accomplish it at such a rapid pace. "We'll never be able to stop in time!"

She could see that the crew was scrambling to redirect their course, but the pull of the current was too strong. Just when she thought there would be no way to avoid striking the Ten Acres midship, the Pool calmed, and the Straight Arrow settled, rocking uneasily. Dan barked an order and the mood on the ship changed from the determination of battling the elements to the camaraderie of facing a human foe. Hands on weapons, they waited, watching the other ships for an indication of the mood. Would they fight immediately? Parley? Engage in a stand-off that would end when one of the captains lost his temper and attacked?

Trixie stamped her foot, unable to bear the uncertainty for one second longer. "Jim!" she called, hoping that her voice would carry enough for him to hear her.

Captain Gingerbeard shook off the man beside him with one quick snap of his arm and rushed to the railing. "Trixie, you shouldn't be here," he called back. "It's not—" The man he had hit returned the favour, sending Jim sprawling to land in a heap on the deck.

"Jim!" she gasped, and before she realized what she was doing, she was struggling to lift one of her legs over the rail.

"What are you going to do?" Dan murmured in her ear as he tugged her back with both of his hands on her waist. "Swim?"

Trixie struggled half-heartedly against his gentle hold. "But they hit him," she protested, her eyes still on the Ten Acres. Jim had already managed to stand up again, but his attention was on his crew again, not her.

"Easy," Captain Gingerbeard ordered, and the men that had surged toward him when he was struck halted, though they looked unhappy about it.

"What's going—" Trixie started to ask, but was interrupted by a voice from one of the neighbouring ships.

"Isn't this charming?" a thin, dark-haired man inquired.

Trixie shivered at his voice, for it was deadly calm, despite the tension of the situation. This was a man, she instinctively knew, with nerves and heart of steel.

Dan nodded at the slight, commanding man. "Captain Jacobs," he said, acknowledging him with only slightly more emotion than Jacobs had displayed. Trixie scrambled to assimilate the brief biography Dan had shared. Jacobs was the pirate Dan had respected, she remembered. The one who followed the Code.

Jacobs nodded, his head inclined at such a precise angle that Trixie was reminded of the stiff, formal greetings she'd witnessed when members of the British House of Lords acknowledged each other in public. Pirate hierarchy, she thought, was not so very different from British society.

Though British society seldom involved tense stand-offs with heavily armed men.

Still, there was something about Jacobs' posture that spoke of reluctance, of a sense of acting only from duty.

But that made no sense whatsoever. Why would a pirate attack against his will? It wasn't as if he took orders from—

"Roberts." The reluctant courtesy that Dan had voiced when addressing Jacobs was gone, replaced with a tone so loathing that Trixie shivered. It wasn't often that she saw Dan as anything other than a capable and confident captain. Moments like this, however, revealed the edge that allowed him to strike fear in the hearts of the men that manned the ships he attacked.

The captain of the third ship returned Dan's greeting with a sneer. "Mangan," he spat, hatred radiating from him.

What Dan had done to warrant that kind of reaction Trixie couldn't even begin to imagine. Or perhaps it was how Roberts felt about everyone?

"Y'er mine now," Roberts crowed, his lips twisted into a grimace of a smile. Sunlight glinted off a golden tooth.

"I had no idea ye cared," Mangan retorted, one eyebrow raised in a contemptuous challenge.

Roberts' grin widened. The wind whipping his shaggy brown hair as he leaned over the railing, he snapped his fingers.

"Oh, I care," he said. "I care very much. I care about the plunder ye denied me. I care about the crew ye spirited away from me. I care about the fact that y'er an upstart pirate who don't deserve to fly the Jolly Roger. But most of all," he said, and his grin turned mocking, "I care about y'er family."

Trixie shook her head, wondering if she'd heard wrong. Though voices were carrying surprisingly easily between the four ships, it still seemed unlikely that she'd heard what she thought she had. Family? What was Roberts talking about? Dan was an only child and an orphan. Wasn't he? She glanced at the object of her thoughts, but he appeared to be just as nonplussed as she.

"Oh, not the Captain's family," Roberts continued, and Trixie noted with a start that his attention was now firmly fixed on her. "I met a charming young man a month or three ago. Sailor in the British Navy, he were."

Trixie's heart stopped. He was talking about one of her brothers. She knew it. They'd both been at sea for years and had never mentioned a particular incident with a pirate, but it stood to reason that they'd encountered them. Did either of them have a history with Roberts that she knew nothing about? She'd dreamed about her brothers, and now it seemed that they really were in danger! Was it Brian, the ship's surgeon? Mart, the post captain? Who could Roberts have—

"Belden?" Roberts' voice mocked her. He obviously knew something that she didn't, and the fact that it involved one of her brothers was enough to drive her mad.

"Yes," Trixie declared. "My name is Belden." Hands on hips, she gave voice to her anger. "And if you've hurt one of my brothers, I'll—"

Her threat was cut off by Roberts' raucous laughter. She huffed, indignant at his cavalier attitude, which only caused him to laugh harder. When his crew joined in, mocking her concern, she'd had enough.

"That's it," she muttered, and began calculating the distance between their ships. She'd seen the men swing from one vessel to another by use of the lines, and though she'd never done it herself, she had no doubt that she could. After all, Dan had on occasion swung her to and from a vessel, and it was simply a matter of estimating the distance and grasping the rope at the proper place.

How hard could it be?

"It be harder than it looks," Esau said from the corner of his mouth, eyes fixed on Roberts.

Trixie huffed in annoyance. Why was it that it that there was always someone to thwart her plans?

Her spur of the moment, most likely doomed to end in injury and/or failure, plans.

Right.

"We'll fix this," Dan said, and once again, Trixie shivered at his tone of voice. Not because he was exposing his ruthless side, but because she knew that he spoke the truth. He would fix this, no matter what the personal cost to him might be.

And that was even more terrifying than the knowledge that a family member was in the clutches of a pirate, most likely being tortured, deprived of food, perhaps forced to do unspeakable things merely to stay alive.

"You can't have him!" Trixie shouted, beyond caring that the pirate code stipulated that negotiations were to be conducted by the captains only. "He's not yours! I'll—"

"Why would ye assume I want 'im?" Roberts inquired, his tone contemptuous as he spat into the sea. "He be more trouble than he's worth, truth be known."

Once again, Trixie was utterly flummoxed. More trouble than he was worth? Ship's surgeons were considered valuable resources. And yes, Mart could be trying with his long-winded stories and insistence on using the most convoluted language possible, but he hadn't risen to the rank of post captain without cultivating enough common sense to temper those tendencies when necessary.

"He be a spoiled brat, and y'er welcome to 'im," Roberts continued. "He served his purpose, givin' us all the information we needed on ye and Gingerbeard."

Spoiled brat? Information? What on earth was Roberts talking about? Was it possible that there was some other Belden involved? One entirely unrelated to them?

"It were me lucky day when he stowed away on me ship," Roberts continued, and Trixie's mind swam. Who on earth was he referring to? "A boy in want of a little revenge can be a dangerous tool, ye know."

A boy? Revenge? The dawn of realization broke and Trixie staggered back half a step, her momentum halted by Dan's chest.

"C'mon on out, Belden," Roberts commanded, his smile a twisted sneer. "And say hello to yer big sister."