[right][h3][color=gray]prologue[/color][/h3][/right][hr][indent][i]The water pressed close, cold and green-dark. The world was gone.

It thrummed in his ears.

Below, like lanterns out of the murky black, its eyes opened --[/i][/indent]

The high screeching cackle of a seagull in his ear jolted Sorn back to the present. He winced; he was still tied tight to the piling where his traitorous shipmates had left him, rope and wood digging in where he'd rather it wouldn't. The damn bird stood proud atop the piling with webbed feet and a dumb stare, to announce his humiliation in a series of squeals and shrieks that echoed in the still gray morning.

He was almost glad to see the local guards march up the dock with their feathered hats and manicured mustaches. He met them with a fangy, thirsty grin.

[color=lightgray]"Captain Howler Swailes left me for your gallows,"[/color] he told them through his teeth, and he watched the guards' faces slowly shift at the mention of the infamous pirate whose billion-stone bounty could feed the island for years. [color=lightgray]"But I've got something better: where to find him, how to catch him, how to kill him. Easy. I'll help you, I don't even want a cut -- all I want is revenge."[/color]

They were even dumber than they looked.

The moment the ropes slackened Sorn threw himself into the water, much to the shock of the mustachioed guardsmen. They screeched and they shrieked and they stabbed at the water with their spears. They splashed into the water after him, waving bludgeons, their soaked feathers sagging -- but he dove deep, and they never saw him resurface.

Sorn held his breath long enough to make it into the shadow of a huge tree whose roots twisted out into the water. Among the branches of the tree -- soaked and shivering, his stomach snarling -- he waited until nightfall.

The sun rose higher, dried his clothes and lulled him to sleep. Afternoon waned wearily. Crickets announced the twilight; stars peeked between the moving leaves. Sorn crept down to the grass, hidden by the night, and stiffly hobbled along the shore.

It was relatively easy to find an unattended fishing boat beached alongside a little house there, where two bright children chased fairy-sparks in the yard.

The kids stopped when he approached, and they ran when they saw the teeth in his grin. He picked up the half-eaten apple they'd dropped, secured it greedily in his mouth, and put his shoulder to the stranded boat.

By the time the fisherman came running, the boat was on the water with Sorn at the oars, an apple in his teeth, the stars shimmering in his wake -- and round white eyes watching from deep below.