“Someone had to,” Finn said.
That night, the hold was a casino. Silas counted coins, his silver fingers clicking like dice. “See, lad? No one died. Everyone had fun. And we made more than a dozen galleon raids.”
“I’m observing,” she said, and left a gold doubloon on the bar. “Enjoy the season.” buccaneers ship stadium
“It’s a money pit,” Finn said, kicking a loose plank. “We’re buccaneers, Uncle Silas. We chase galleons. We don’t… host seating sections.”
“You rang the bell,” he whispered.
The match was brutal. The Black Keels were faster, but the Red Sashes had a giantess named Morwen who used a broken spar like a club. In the final minute, a wiry youth from the Keels shimmied up the ratlines, dodged a thrown hook, and rang the bell. The stadium erupted.
“Sabotage!” Silas coughed, smoke in his lungs. “The bell’s mechanism is frozen. I can’t signal the all-clear.” “Someone had to,” Finn said
Finn’s blood went cold. “Are you threatening us?”