Roxanne scrambled to her feet and stood eyeing him warily, trying to gauge his mood.

He wasn't looking at her as he lowered the pistol. Instead, his gaze was fixed darkly on the body of the man he had just killed.

She wiped her eyes, trying to steady her panicked breathing and racing heartbeat.

"Who was he?"

"He...he said his name was Robert," she stammered, backing away as Teague finally lifted his eyes from the body.

He nodded curtly, expression unreadable, and turned away, scattering drops of water from the hem of his coat with the movement.
"Come on."

She scooped up her own coat, the garment now damp and cold as she pulled it on before following him out of the shack.

It was still raining as they walked in silence back towards the Misty Lady.
However, before they reached the harbour, Teague veered off into a narrow alley, broken glass crunching under his feet. He ducked under a wind chime hanging from a doorway, the bleached bones clattering eerily as they were disturbed.

Roxanne followed, swallowing nervously as she glanced at the swaying bones, wondering where, or rather, what, they'd come from. Narrow and gently curved, they resembled ribs, but she couldn't figure out what kind of creature had ribs as long as these.

Ahead of her, Teague was muttering in his native tongue while he glanced at the ship's hulls that lined the alley.
"Up here," he said in English at last, scaling a bit of rigging hanging over the side of one of the wrecks.

She followed, her feet skidding on the deck when she reached it, the planks slick with rainwater.

The ruined ship had probably been about the same size as the Lady, with only one mast. It rose out of the deck in front of her, jagged knobs in pairs at intervals where the yards had broken off.

The captain's cabin had no door, thick cobwebs stretching across the space where it should be. An enormous hairy spider sat in the upper left corner of the frame, legs twitching slightly.

"Down the hatch," Teague muttered  before she could look into the empty doorway of the cabin.

Below deck, it was completely dark, the air cold and damp. Roxanne jumped, stifling a scream as something brushed past her.

"Only me. Stand there a minute while I get some light in this feckin' place. " Teague's voice floated back to her out of the darkness ahead.

She heard clattering and soft words, undoubtedly curses from the tone, then finally the flickering light of a lantern brightened the other end of the space.

The deck, which usually housed the guns on a ship, had been transformed. Windows now covered the empty gun ports, though most of them were cracked or shattered.
An antique dresser, grey with dust and quite rotted, stood by the ladder they'd come down, with a table and two chairs close by. Shelves, warped by damp and full of the strangest assortment of items Roxanne had ever seen, lined the walls.

As Teague unearthed another lantern, which he lit and placed on the table, she looked curiously at the shelves.

Spiders scurried away from the light, retreating back to their webs in a flurry of long legs. An ornate golden locket caught her attention, the emerald serpent on its front almost seeming to move in the dancing light.
She picked it up, blew the cobwebs off it and tried to prise it open, which proved useless.

Leaving it, her inquisitive fingers danced over a set of goblets draped in thick webs, a small tattered book which looked like a diary, an elaborate bejeweled chalice with its left handle missing and a slim silver dagger, its blade still sharp.

"Who owned all this?" she asked, examining a blood-red stone she was almost sure was a real ruby.

"Ancestors of mine. There's been a Teague in the Brethren Court for about a century and this is one of the places they lived in Shipwreck Cove. Put that in your pocket, we'll get it turned into jewellery."

She looked at him, and when he didn't appear to be joking, she obediently slipped the gemstone into her pocket.
After a while longer looking through the shelves, she turned away at last, taking in the rest of the room.

There was a crudely-hung door in the back wall, its once-silver handle tarnished by rust. The floor squeaked underfoot as she walked over to it and tried the handle. It opened slowly, the stiff hinges groaning in protest.

The room beyond was small and cramped and smelled strongly of damp. It was just big enough for a rather narrow bed, a mouldy nightstand and a chest of drawers. There was no window. Behind the drawers, an area seemed to have been boarded up. She took in the layout again thoughtfully.

Cobwebs coated everything, along with a thick covering of dust. She eyed the bed, raising a sceptical brow. "Are we both going to fit in that? Is there enough room for us and the spiders?"

Teague, standing in the doorway, laughed. "Might be a bit of a squeeze. And there definitely won't be any room for the spiders. But we'll manage I'm sure."

"I don't like it here," Roxanne murmured once they were both in bed, pressed tight together because of the lack of space and the cold of damp sheets. "This was the galley, wasn't it?"

He pulled the thin duvet closer around them, disturbing a puff of dust that lingered despite the thorough shaking the bedcovers had been subjected to. "It was, aye, as far as I can tell. I don't like it here either, but we're leavin' tomorrow. I'm taking ye to Madagascar."

Frowning slightly, she tried to remember the limited geography she'd been taught. "Where's that?"

"An island off the coast of Africa. It's a nice place, fairly uncivilised compared to London or Dublin, but nice. I'm thinkin' of setting up there."

"Well, you're now Pirate Lord of it, so that's a start," said Roxanne, idly worrying at a hole in the stained sheet.

She felt him hum in agreement, the sound making his chest vibrate against her back. He shifted, his hips settling against her backside as he tucked his legs behind hers, bent at the knees.

When she shivered, he wrapped an arm around her, keeping her close.  "Did Robert hurt you?"

"No, though if you hadn't turned up, I think I'd be answering that differently. How did you find me anyway?"

"Lucky guess." He kissed her head.
"Goodnight, love you."
************************************
The morning brought a torrential downpour of rain that startled Teague from sleep.

Cursing in Gaelic under his breath, he untangled the sheets and got up, toes curling as they touched the cold floor, padding into the other room.

"Morning." Roxanne looked over from where she was dusting off plates from the dresser.

"Morning." He sat down, yawning and glaring at the rain outside. Then his gaze flickered to her. "If you're lookin' for food, you're wasting your time. This place was hardly ever used and Mum didn't keep anything here."

She set down the plate, hearing a knocking on the door.

"I'll get it," Teague muttered, standing up. To his surprise, the small, mousy-haired man in the doorway addressed him in Gaelic.

"Cad is ainm duit?"

"Cé atá ag fiafraí?" Teague asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Blátháin Ua Laoghaire."

He frowned slightly, the suspicion still in his eyes, arms folded across his chest. "Edward Teague," he said shortly.

The man nodded slightly and drew a letter out of the bag he carried, offering it to him along with a quill.

Teague took it, flipping it over and breaking the seal. He was silent for several minutes, then sighed heavily, turned the letter over and wrote hastily on the back.

Silently, he returned it and waved a hand to dismiss the man.

"What was that about?" Roxanne asked once the door had closed.

He ran a hand through his hair. "It looks like I have to go to England, probably for a funeral by the time I get there."

"Oh, what's wrong?"

"Blátháin's husband, Cathair, fell ill suddenly and isn't expected to live much longer. I have to go back, an' have to stop to pick up Mum and my siblings on the way cause mum's ship is being repaired and won't be seaworthy in time," Teague explained over his shoulder as he stepped back into the bedroom to get ready to leave. "Madagascar will have to wait, sorry."

Half an hour later, the Misty Lady had sailed through the Devil's Throat and back to open sea. Just as they cleared the passage, an enormous shower of spray about ten yards off the bow made many of the crew exclaim in surprise.

A shadow rippled just below the surface of the water for a moment, then something broke the waves. Something that was longer than the ship, with glimmering dark scales. Slowly, an enormous head rose out of the sea, attached to a gently swaying neck. One eye, a deep, inky black with a scarlet slit for a pupil, fixed on the ship as the creature's mouth opened slightly, a forked tongue flicking out between rows of razor-sharp teeth.

Teague stared, his face paling in shock, knuckles white as he held the wheel.

Cormac, standing at his shoulder whispered "What the fuck is that??"

"That'd be a sea serpent," somebody said on the deck below.

A low hiss, like steam coming from a kettle, escaped the creature, which was still staring at the ship.

He glanced at the crew. Some were staring at the serpent as it towered over the deck. Some were cowering, covering their heads. Some had drawn weapons, while others blessed themselves and prayed frantically.

His eyes found Roxanne, who looked afraid but fascinated as she tilted her head back to look at the creature, which hissed softly again.

She looked over at him after a few minutes, and he suddenly realised he was holding his breath. He exhaled slowly, eyeing the serpents open mouth when it's tongue flicked out again. It was beautiful, part of him realised. The sunlight revealed the smooth scales on its head to be a dark midnight blue, not black as he'd initially thought. The underside of the creature's long body was a light green-blue, the colour of tropical water, a nice contrast to the darkness of its back.

"I thought they were a myth. And now I think this one is intending to eat the ship for lunch!" Cormac hissed into his ear.

"There's nothing fuckin' mythical about that," Teague muttered back, still staring at the serpent as it remained poised high over the Misty Lady, casting the deck into shadow.

Sahara's footsteps sounded and she appeared on his other side. "Shall I load a cannon, captain?"

He shook his head immediately. "No, no. We're not hurting it unless it tries to eat the ship. It lives in the sea, we're just passing through. There is no reason to hurt it."

"Other than the fact it's considering destroying our ship," Cormac interjected.

"We don't know that. Maybe it's just curious," said Teague, much more calmly than he felt. Despite the knot of fear that had formed in his gut at the serpent's appearance, he had no desire to harm such a magnificent creature unless absolutely necessary.

He had no idea how long the serpent remained there, completely still, poised over the ship. As suddenly as it had appeared, it retreated, vanishing beneath the water.

For several long moments, he stared at spot where it had disappeared before rousing himself from his thoughts and turning to look at his crew.

Sahara and Cormac were still standing beside him. Sahara's eyes were full of wonder, while Cormac looked deeply uneasy.

"Most unnatural," Cormac finally said, his words seeming to break the trance of silence that had descended over the ship. The crew resumed their duties and Teague turned his attention to putting the ship on course to Ireland, glad to be leaving Shipwreck Cove behind.

A/N. Wow. It's been a long time. My most sincere apologies for my lack of new content. Without saying too much, I've had a rough year, and very little writing time and just wasn't in the mindset to work on this story.
I'm slowly getting back to it.