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Copyright 2013

Arrggggg, welcome mateys! Scuttle your gear below and get ready for a hearty adventure, for we shall be weighing anchor and setting sail on the Phantom in mere moments. In other words, I hope you enjoy the story!

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Siren of the Sea

Dedicated to my Captain and his Lady

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Chapter 1

August 1723

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Amir watched from the corner of his eyes as he battled the man in front of him, keeping close watch to see if his captain, Erik, needed any assistance. As usual…he did not. In the seven years Amir Dessan had sailed with this man, he had never found him lacking in the skills to outwit or outmaneuver another opponent in battle. Erik was not only proficient with a blade but his demeanor and presence usually struck such fear into the hearts of his enemies, giving him the advantage in most any fight. He was a large man, strong and tall, his lean body made for battle, but it was his face that was his most deadly weapon. Erik wore a black cut leather mask over most of it, covering his forehead down to his jaw line, leaving only a portion of his left cheek exposed as well as his mouth. Not many men had ever seen what lay beneath that mask, and most of those who did died soon after. Amir counted himself among the very few to have ever seen Erik unmasked and lived to tell that tale, not that he would ever talk about it, knowing Erik's temper and desire for privacy. The only reason he had been deemed worthy to see it was due to his years of service aboard the pirate ship, the Phantom, and the fact that he was called upon at times to bandage his captain's wounds.

While Amir counted it an honor to be entrusted with such a secret, he did not count it a privilege to have seen what lay beneath. If others felt the sight of a masked Erik would strike fear into the hearts of his enemies, they had no idea what seeing what lay beneath it would have done. Yes, the sullen and deadly captain was indeed a force to be reckoned with, something the man he was currently battling with would soon learn…the hard way.

Erik's sword rose to block his enemy's blade, staving off the blow that had been meant to remove his head. His eyes flashed with hate and disgust for the loathsome pirate he was battling, a man who was despised by everyone, including his own kind. Though they were pirates themselves, both Erik and his crew had deemed the extermination of these particular cutthroats necessary. Reports of the marauding ship the Damnation and its brutal captain, a man who went by the name of Red Blood, had reached a limit which they could no longer tolerate and something needed to be done. So when the ship had been spotted on the horizon earlier that day, the vote had been cast to take her down.

In good form, Erik had run up the flag that signaled the offering of quarter if any wished to surrender, but a shot over their bow had been their response, indicating that this would be a fight to the death. Erik had smiled to himself at this, he found the whole idea of taking prisoners quite tedious, and it suited him just fine not to have any constraints placed upon his sword.

The battle had been fierce, beginning from a distance with cannons and then ending up hand to hand as Erik and his men boarded the enemy ship. After dispatching several of the crew, Erik came face to face with the bloodthirsty captain, each man realizing this would only end when one of them was dead. They had fought for several minutes, each one clearly a worthy opponent for the other, matched in skill and ability. Yet, Erik could see that the older pirate was beginning to tire, giving him the upper hand.

Red Blood held his sword out in front of him, waiting for an opportunity to attack, but Erik didn't wait. He lunged forward, striking the hilt of his blade against his opponent's, pushing him off balance and then twisting his body around as he pulled his sword across the other man's arm. With a cry, Red Blood dropped his weapon, gripping his wound as Erik swung his sword over his head, slicing the air above him as it slid down in a perfect arc towards his chest. The blackguard sunk to his knees, his eyes full of shock and fear as he felt the life slip from him, and fell to the deck…dead.

Erik stared at the body lying before him on the deck and felt no regret, killing was never something he truly enjoyed, but on occasion he found it necessary. As he turned to take on his next opponent, he knew without a doubt, that today was one of those times.

With the death of their captain, the crew of the Damnation lost heart and soon Erik and his men stood victorious. Unfortunately it was discovered that two of Erik's men had met their untimely end in the battle as well, tainting their victory over their enemy. Erik instructed that these two fallen crew members be taken back to the Phantom, while the dead from the rival ship were tossed unceremoniously overboard. With their foes dispatched, Erik and his first mate, Amir, began a survey of the ship to make sure that nothing of value would be wasted. Leaving the rest of the crew in charge of searching the hold and cargo, Erik pushed his way into the captain's quarters. The mast had fallen during the battle causing some of the ceiling to collapse inside. Things were quite a mess, but from what he had seen of the captain and her crew he doubted that this ship had ever been neat and tidy.

"What is that smell?" Amir asked, waving his hand in front of his face at the nauseating aroma.

"My best guess is years of rot and filth," Erik replied, stepping over another large beam from the ceiling. "It's ships like these that give pirating a bad name."

Even though his comment was meant to be humorous, Amir knew that Erik's words held more truth in them than intended. For years he had sailed with this captain, and it still amazed him just how different he was from other pirates he had come across during his relatively short career at sea. Where most brigands did not care for appearances or cleanliness, it was an essential part of life aboard the Phantom, and the men all knew it. While none of them would have won any beauty contests, they were expected to keep themselves relatively clean and the ship in a much more sanitary condition than the Damnation appeared to be. Erik's actions were also a curious matter. While over the years they had captured many ships and plenty of treasure, Erik always offered the choice of surrender first, never brutally destroying any ship that ran up the white flag or begged for quarter. This did not stop him from plundering it of course, but he spared the lives of those willing to meekly submit. Amir knew that if there was such a thing as an honorable pirate, Captain Erik was it.

Amir also knew that Erik expected no less from each of his men. Not just anyone could crew for the Phantom, for each interested man needed to come with recommendations, courage and most of all…a conscience. There was no room for heartless and wanton killing on his ship, Erik saw to that. No one dared to go against the captain; his crew not only feared him but respected him as well, knowing that he would always lead them to victory. Which could be why they were so successful, the close knit group they had become allowed them to depend on their fellow shipmates in times of battle and crisis. So much so, that only a small amount of crew members had lost their lives in battle over the past few years.

During his time as first mate, Amir had learned a thing or two about the captain's past, mostly after a few bottles of rum, but from those few glimpses into his life he could understand why Erik did what he did, and he respected him for it. Take this particular ship for instance, it had been known far and wide as a wretched scourge on the sea, attacking any and all who crossed its path. The captain was notorious for his brutal dealings with prisoners and selling them to the slave traders for profit. It had been a stroke of luck that the ship had just engaged in a battle the week before and was low on provisions, ammunition and healthy crew members. This made it all the more confusing to Amir when Red Blood and his crew refused to accept Erik's offer to let them surrender, choosing instead to fight and die. Now all that was left was to sift through the wreckage and decide what to do with the vessel.

"Here is something interesting," Amir said, picking up a long sword from the rubble.

Erik came over to inspect it.

"I suppose we could sell it, but I refuse to take a dead man's weapon. Especially if that man seemed to enjoy sadistic killing as much as Red Blood did," he said, handing it back as he continued to look around.

Turning the sword over in his hands, Amir nodded in agreement. It was not sounding like something he would like to own either, so tossing it to the side he headed after Erik. However, when the sword hit the floor with a loud clatter, another noise was heard at the far end of the room. That telling sound making it clear that they were not alone in the room. Both Erik and Amir drew their swords and stealthily moved towards where the noise had originated. There was a small opening in the wall, perhaps a closet that had its door ripped from the hinges long ago, and now only a thin curtain covered the entryway. Erik signaled for Amir to pull back the fabric as he stood ready to take on whatever waited on the other side. He mouthed the words, one, two and on three Amir tore the curtain violently away, revealing not at all what they had expected.

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Christine Daae had been dreading this trip for months. Not because of any fear of the ocean, but the fear that by the end of it she would break her father's heart. When she was ten years old her father, Dr. Charles Daae, had made an arrangement with an old family friend, Lord Andrew Collingsworth, for a marriage between herself and the lord's son, Philippe. While her father assured her that the final say was inevitably hers, she knew that this was what Charles Daae had always desired for her future. So a year ago, when Christine turned 18, she and her father had gone to the Collingsworth estate so the two could officially meet. Philippe was good looking and kind and the two became very fine friends, but by the end of the visit, they both had to admit that there was no spark of love between them. Undaunted by this, the two fathers continued to arrange time for the youngsters to associate together at parties as well as private gatherings at the lord's manor. Christine had always enjoyed the visits, mostly because she and Philippe's sister, Meg, had become very close and often wrote to one another when apart.

Yet, as Christine boarded the ship, commanded by her father's friend Commodore Edwards, and set sail for the Collingsworth summer home, close to where Philippe was currently attending his last year of university, she knew this visit would not be ending the way her father wished it to. Still, she had no way of knowing just how terribly wrong things would turn.

As Commodore Edwards welcomed Christine back aboard after her week-long visit, he could tell from her expression that the meeting with Philippe had not gone as hoped. As a boyhood friend of her father's, Edwards had watched Christine grow from a tiny girl into a beautiful young woman, and it pained him to see her so conflicted. He knew she was warring against her desire to please her father and the wish to please herself, by not settling for a marriage without love.

As the ship left port and headed for open waters, Christine stood at the railing and watched as the waves parted before them. Reaching up she pulled her long chestnut curls to one side and quickly secured them with a white ribbon so they would not continue to blow around in the wind. While still at the tender age of nineteen, she suddenly felt very old and tired. Christine was not looking forward to facing her father upon her return, having to field the endless questions about how the trip had gone and what had transpired between her and Philippe. She loved her father dearly, but she just could not bring herself to marry a man she did not love.

With a heavy sigh, she allowed her mind to wander back to the events of the previous week and what she and Philippe had decided they must do.

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"You know I am leaving tomorrow and so far we have managed to avoid talking about it every time we have been together," Christine pointed out as she and Philippe were walking alone in the gardens outside the Collingsworth summer home. Meg had been serving as chaperone but had feigned interest in some flowering bushes nearby in order to give the two of them some time to speak privately.

"I know," Philippe said, with a heavy sigh that mirrored her own misgivings. "And as much as I care for you, Christine, I am afraid that my feelings have not altered since we last spoke of marriage. Have yours?"

"No… they have not," she admitted sadly.

"Maybe if we gave it more time?" he suggested.

"We have been visiting each other for almost a year now, if we were meant to fall in love, don't you think it would have happened by now? And with your attention focused solely on me, you may be missing out on the woman of your dreams. I would hate to think I was the cause of that," Christine lamented.

"What of you? How many suitors have you turned away while trying to convince yourself that I could be the one?" he asked.

"Quite the fine pair we are," Christine agreed.

Suddenly Philippe turned towards her, grabbing her by the arms and pulling her to him as he leaned forward. When his lips came crushing down on hers, Christine didn't know what to do, her eyes remained open and she could only imagine that they were full of shock. The kiss was awkward with no spark of love igniting the flames of passion as she had always dreamed a kiss should. But she knew if a kiss was shared with the wrong man, any kiss, no matter how well it was executed, would stir nothing. The two stood frozen, neither wanting to pull back first or face the imminent looks of embarrassment that was bound to follow. Then as suddenly as he had initiated the kiss, Philippe ended it.

Christine stood still, waiting to see what Philippe might say or do next, not quite sure how to handle the situation herself.

"Anything?" he asked, a mixture of hope and disappointment in his eyes.

"No," she stated, quickly adding. "I mean it was a nice kiss…but no, nothing."

Philippe took her by the hand and led her over to a stone bench beneath a large tree and the two sat down.

"You know, I have heard that love can grow out of friendship, and I do think of you as an extremely good friend. You are very beautiful, fun to be with and far more exciting than half of the mindless ladies that continuously parade themselves in front of the men here at school." He reached up and ran his fingers through her long curls, tucking one lose strand behind her ear. "So if our fathers wish us to be together that badly, what could it hurt? Marry me Christine and I am sure I would grow to love you in time. I promise that I would be a good and faithful husband to you. Meg and I owe our father so much for all he has done and I cannot bear to break his heart by denying him this one thing. It is my duty as his son."

"I understand completely, I would do anything for my father as well," Christine said. "But we would be lying to them and to ourselves if we were to go through with such a charade. I am sorry, Philippe, as much as I like you, I refuse to be any man's duty or obligation. I want true love, the everlasting kind that begins before I say I do and ends only when I draw my last breath. We both deserve that, Philippe, and I think it is something worth waiting for. Don't you?"

"Yes…I do," he smiled, rubbing his hands together nervously. "Though before I find all that, how would you suggest I tell my father that I want to see the world first? That I wish to go so many places, far away cities and have an adventure or two before I settle down with some delicate beauty who needs me desperately. Though, I am sure you wouldn't understand that."

"Oh please, do you think that as a man you control the market on wishes and dreams?" she laughed, nudging him with her elbow and making him smile in return. "I too would like to go a few places and see a few things before I grow old and die. It just seems easier for men to do such things, while we women are expected to sit in the parlor and sip tea while we await our husband's return."

"I am afraid I will never be able to picture you sipping tea or waiting on any man," Philippe laughed.

"Good, then perhaps there is hope for you yet," she smiled, taking hold of his arm and leaning her head against his shoulder. "I have to believe there is hope for me too, the hope that one day love will find me…or maybe, I will just have to go out and find it."

"I know you will," Philippe told her. "So, what do we do next?"

"I think we should put an end to this once and for all and quit prolonging the inevitable."

"Could we please wait till the end of spring? I know that is a long time, but this is my last year at university and I would like to try and enjoy it without knowing what a disappointment I am to my father," Philippe asked.

"Your father is a very kind and generous man; I cannot imagine him ever being anything but proud of you. I am sure he would be happy with whatever girl you chose in life, and with me out of the picture maybe you could find a nice rich girl like every father dreams of his son marrying. Heaven only knows why he has allowed you to court a penniless girl like me for so long," Christine said in wonderment.

"Father has never cared much for title or station, he looks at the person inside and I have always admired him for that. I could choose a princess or a pauper and he wouldn't mind, just as long as I loved her," he assured her.

"Then that leaves me out of the running, for we have already proven that you and I are not in love," she laughed, pulling him up from the bench. "Now come on, we better get back to Meg before she thinks we have run off to elope. I promise to keep our secret until spring, for your sake, Philippe. I would hate to have you fail all your courses because of a guilty conscience."

"Thank you, Christine. You are, and always will be, my true friend," he told her as they walked back towards the house.

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The voyage back to her home in South Port was uneventful for the several days, but on the morning of their fifth day out the call went up that struck fear into the hearts of all aboard. A pirate ship was spotted in pursuit and it was gaining quickly. Commodore Edwards did everything he could to outmaneuver them in an effort to escape, but soon it was evident that they could not evade capture. Just before the ship was to be boarded, Edwards came rushing into Christine's cabin, the look in his eyes telling Christine that her worst fears were coming true.

"Quick, you will need to put these on," he told her throwing a shirt, boy's pants and a cap at her as he searched the room for a set of clippers and some strips of cloth. "Bind your chest with this and I am afraid you will have to cut your hair."

"What? Why?" she asked, looking at the items in her hands as if they were the strangest things in the world.

"Because there is no way to avoid it, we are being boarded and while I know my men will fight courageously, we are not equipped for a full blown battle. Should we lose, you must hide your identity behind the mask of a boy for your own safety. I will do all I can to save you, but right now your best protection is a disguise." Commodore Edwards drew his sword as he heard the first wave of marauders land on deck, looking back at her with pity and determination in his eyes. "When you are done, conceal yourself and don't come out for anything!" he told her as he headed out the door, ready for battle.

Christine did just as he had instructed, cutting her hair so that it barely touched her shoulders and tossed the fallen locks, as well as any clothing that might betray her existence, out the window and into the sea. Then with her chest bound up tightly, and dressed in loose fitting men's clothes she stuck the hat on her head, tucking her hair up underneath. Next she crawled into the closet as far back as she could manage, waiting with her heart in her throat until all the fighting stopped. Commodore Edwards and his crew had fought valiantly but in the end their vessel was no match for the overwhelming number of bloodthirsty cutthroats.

The ship had been taken.

The events of the next few days were like a blur for Christine, a true nightmare she hoped she would awaken from. It was not long after the battle had ended that she had been discovered and hauled out to join the other crew members who survived. She was extremely grateful to see that, while he had been injured, Commodore Edwards was still alive and able to get around. The pirate captain, a disgusting murderer named Red Blood, immediately took all the prisoners and any loot he could find aboard the ship before sending Edwards' vessel to the bottom of the sea. For the next several days Christine, the Commodore and remaining crew were kept in a small cell in the hold of the ship, given just enough rations to live off of as they sailed away to who knows where. Christine did her best to remain calm and brave, not wishing for the Commodore to be burdened any more than he already was by giving into her own fears. Their fate soon became clear when they dropped anchor just off a small island apparently used for the buying and selling of white slaves.

Edwards did his best to keep Christine close to him as they prepared to disembark the ship, telling her that he would protect her as long as he could…which unfortunately did not prove to be very long. For just as they began to load the boats with the surviving crew, Red Blood suddenly separated the young 'boy', now strictly referred to as Chris, from the rest of the group. Commodore Edwards fought violently against his captors, pleading that he and the boy not be parted and even offering up himself to stay in his place, but to no avail. Red Blood believed the Commodore would be worth far more at the slave market and that the boy would one day make a fine pirate. So Christine was forced to watch as the crew and Commodore Edwards were loaded into boats and rowed to shore. She stood at the railing, her face pale with fear as her last vestige of hope slipped further and further away, wondering if she would ever see them again.

Concealing her identity turned out to be less difficult than she had originally anticipated. Unless involved in some battle, life aboard the Damnation turned out to be very uneventful. After their victory and selling of the prisoners, the captain and entire crew went on a drinking binge that lasted several days. Half the men were either drunk or sleeping it off, allowing Christine to go unnoticed for long periods of time. When they began to sober up they regarded the 'lad' as the new resident slave, keeping her quite busy as there seemed to be no end to the daily chores. However, as long as they left her alone while she did them, Christine was grateful. The captain remained holed up in his cabin, going over charts and maps, counting his loot while the rest of the crew spent all their free time gambling below decks. Christine knew that her disguise would not conceal her from the captain and his repulsive crew forever…she needed to escape.

Unfortunately they were hundreds of miles out at sea and from what she overheard there was no plan to make port any time soon. So little by little she scuttled away bits of food and water, preparing for the first chance that presented itself. A week into her captivity she came upon a plan. As the water was used up the empty barrels were stacked on deck, ready to be refilled. When sealed, the barrels floated very nicely and if one or two were lashed together they, could make a decent raft. Setting herself afloat at sea was not an ideal plan, Christine knew this, but it was better than staying where she was. It could mean her death, but she was willing to risk it. She decided that she would save up her rations for one more day and execute her escape the following night.

However, as the next day dawned, all her plans suddenly changed. A call went up amongst the crew; another pirate ship had been spotted on the horizon. The captain seemed visibly rattled when he was told that the name of this other ship was the Phantom. Christine knew nothing about pirates or their ships, but she could tell that its reputation preceded it and struck fear into the hearts of the crew. Coupled with the fact that they were low on ammunition from the previous attack on Commodore Edwards' ship, she could see why this was a very bad time for them to be engaging in battle. She was shocked when Captain Red Blood would not stand down and he ordered his men to turn and fight.

Christine had been instructed to stay on deck and reload the muskets after they were fired, but she was having none of that. The moment the captain and crew were distracted she grabbed a small knife lying amongst the weapons that had been piled on the deck and slipped away. Figuring it provided the safest cover, she hid in the captain's quarters, barricading herself as far back in a closet as possible. Christine was not a coward, but she was not a fool either. She had no idea how to shoot a musket or wield a sword, and besides, the last thing she wanted to do was help the Damnation win any battles. As the first round of cannon fire came over the side, tearing through walls and toppling the mast, Christine knew that with or without her participation, there was a very strong chance that she would die in this encounter.

Each time a timber cracked and fell she was sure it was going to bring the ceiling right down on top of her. She crouched in the corner, her knees pulled up in front of her, clutching the knife so tightly that her knuckles turned white… waiting for it all to end. She thought of Commodore Edwards and the crew, taken away to the horrors of slavery or death and she also thought of Philippe and Meg as well as Lord Collingsworth…but most of all she thought of her father. Oh how worried he must be, not knowing where she was or if she was still alive, and if things kept up the way they were, she feared that soon she wouldn't be. The battle seemed to rage on for hours, although in reality it was over quite quickly. For as suddenly as it had begun, all the noise outside abruptly stopped. No more cannons, no more yelling and no more blades striking together.

One side had emerged victorious...but which one?

Christine remained huddled in her spot, not daring to venture out. She had no way of knowing which direction her fate would turn in the next few minutes. Either she would still be a captive on the now badly damaged Damnation or perhaps a far worse fate awaited her as a prisoner aboard the Phantom. Her heart leapt to her throat when she heard the door to the cabin grind open and men's voices as they entered the room. Was this the end for her? She waited in the dark of the closet praying she would not be discovered...but if she was, she swore that she would not go easily.

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Erik and Amir looked at the small figure huddled there and slowly lowered their weapons. Glancing at one another they silently agreed what needed to be done. Sliding his sword back into its sheath, Erik took a step towards what he perceived to be a frightened young boy. As he did, the lad pulled back even further and held up a knife, waving it threateningly at Erik and Amir.

"Stay back or I swear I will kill you!" Christine shouted, but she feared that her voice did not have the tone of conviction she had been aiming for.

Erik forced back a grin as he regarded the boy closely. He was young, perhaps mid-teens and small even for that age. Too young to begin a life aboard a pirate ship, but then again, Erik recalled that he had not been much older when he sailed for the first time. He felt something akin to sympathy for the kid and wanted to put him at ease. Crouching down, putting himself closer to eye level with the boy, he spoke in a calming tone.

"Hand over the blade boy, and no one will hurt you," he reassured him.

Christine was not convinced that easily and if this man imagined she was giving up her weapon, he was sadly mistaken. She did have to admit that the man did not look like your typical pirate. He appeared to be around thirty five or so and his jet black hair was cut short, not long and stringy like the men on the Damnation. He was also somewhat clean shaven, from what she could see of his face that was not hidden behind a black mask, which gave him a rather sinister appearance. However, despite the fact he had just come from a bloody battle, he remained quite presentable, in clothes that looked as if he changed often and bathed regularly. When he had been standing he seemed like a giant, tall and muscular, towering over her quite ominously, and though his strange amber colored eyes seemed stern, Christine found that he was not altogether unpleasing to look at. His eyes seemed to blaze behind the mask and looked to hold a world of secrets. It suddenly struck her that they seemed a bit familiar to her as well, but she couldn't for the life of her understand why. They had certainly never met before today, she was sure of that.

His friend on the other hand was quite different; he was close to the same age as the first man, perhaps a bit older, yet he had a dark and foreign look about him. He had brown hair, an olive brown complexion and dark eyes that seemed to know how to laugh easily. Christine still did not trust them, but she had to admit that they were a marked improvement over anyone else she had met in the past week.

"Tell us your name, boy," Erik spoke again. "Are you a member of Red Blood's crew?"

"Not by choice, I assure you!" Christine heard herself blurt out. She quickly cleared her throat and tried to sound a little more masculine. "My name is Chris Daae and the ship I was sailing on was attacked a week ago by the Damnation. The rest of the crew was either killed or sold at the slave market but the captain kept me on board to serve as a cabin boy and to turn me into a pirate!" Suddenly Christine could hold her pent up fears in no longer and she felt herself give way to tears. "But…I don't want to be a pirate; I just want to go home to my father in South Port. I…I just want to go home!" Burying her head in her arms she now allowed herself to cry for the first time since this whole ordeal began.

Erik and Amir took this opportunity to confer between themselves. Walking over away from the boy they spoke quietly to one another.

"The poor kid, he is scared to death," Amir said, glancing over at the sobbing boy.

"I don't blame him. Red Blood and his men were not known for their hospitality and warmth," Erik nodded.

"If we can get him to trust us we could take him aboard the Phantom and see about making arrangements to get him home at the next decent port," Amir suggested.

"What exactly would we do with a kid like that on board a pirate ship?" Erik asked, not sure he liked Amir's suggestion at all.

"We certainly can't just leave him here, can we?" Amir pointed out, watching as Erik did all he could to think of some other plan that did not involve him being saddled with the boy. At last he seemed to give up and yielded to Amir's insistence.

"Fine, but he will be your responsibility," Erik warned Amir, frowning as his first mate gave him a knowing grin. "His welfare is on your head, but first we have to get him to come out, and I seriously doubt that he is in a very trusting mood right now."

Erik walked back over and knelt down once again, trying his best to sound reassuring.

"Listen here boy, you are going to have to trust us if you want to live. Everyone from this ship is gone and apparently we can't leave you here alone." He turned and gave Amir a look that conveyed his displeasure. "If you come with us and join my crew, I will do what I can to get you back home to your family. I am not promising anything, but it is the best offer you are going to get. Will you take it?"

"But...but you're pirates," was all Christine could think to say.

Erik heard Amir chuckle slightly behind him and gave him a stern side glance as if to say he was not helping.

"Pirates or not...we're all there is," he reasoned, standing up and crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance. He would just as soon leave the boy if he gave him any more guff.

Christine stared up at him for a long time. Could she trust him? Should she? This could turn into a whole 'out of the frying pan and into the fire' situation quite easily. Still...there was something in his eyes, something that made her want to believe in him. Besides, she knew he was right about one thing, she had no other choice. Staying here alone was not an option.

"All right…." she began tentatively. "…but I am keeping my knife!" Christine warned, gripping it tightly.

"I suppose I shouldn't expect anything less," Erik nodded, rolling his eyes slightly at the boy's words. He was not sure if he admired the kid's spunk, or if it just irritated him.

Christine slowly rose and took a step or two out of the closet, eyeing them wearily. However, when the foreign looking one went to put his arm on her shoulder, in what he probably thought was a gesture of comfort, Christine ducked out of it and moved a few feet away.

"I said I would go with you… I didn't say I was happy about it and I don't make friends with pirates!" she warned.

"Suit yourself," Erik replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. "For now we shall all remain distrustful acquaintances." He then gave one more glance around the room and headed for the door, signaling for Amir and the boy to follow him. "I don't see anything else worth taking so let's get out of here."

Christine slowly followed their lead for a few steps and then stopped, looking over her shoulder. The man noticed her hesitation and turned back to stare at her questioningly.

"Have you changed your mind?" he asked, sounding impatient.

"Should I?" she shot back, but then gave a sigh of resignation. "No, I have not changed my mind. I was just wondering if you had found Red Blood's map?"

Amir came forward quickly, a glint of excitement in his eye.

"A map? What map?"

"The captain had a map that he hid behind that painting over there, I saw him putting it away once when I brought him his dinner." She pointed over to the wall, where despite the current devastation to the room, the painting still hung.

Before the words were barely out of her mouth, Amir was already lifting off the painting and turning it over onto the pile of rubble in front of him. His face seemed to light up as he discovered the yellow stained paper with pictures and directions drawn all over it.

"I don't know what it leads to but it certainly looks like a treasure map to me," he said, rolling the scroll up tightly and stuffing it into his shirt. "Good job kid, I am starting to like you already," Amir said, as he headed out the door.

Erik and Christine were left alone in the room together. She felt very uncomfortable with him standing there, his arms crossed as he seemed to be studying her in a very odd way.

"Don't worry, I won't be asking for any part of whatever that map leads to," she assured him, trying to ascertain exactly what he was thinking. "That is not why I mentioned it. I just figured that telling you about it might buy me a little good will."

"Well you certainly made Amir's day," he replied, quiet for a few seconds more before he spoke again, his tone unreadable. "The name is Erik. Welcome to the crew of the Phantom."

Christine looked at him in wonder. Erik. It didn't sound much like a cutthroat pirate's name, but since this looked like her best chance of ever getting home, she nodded in agreement. As she did, Christine somehow knew her life was never going to be the same again.

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Well? What do you think so far? Now remember, this is fiction so let's just imagine that Christine CAN get away with her little disguise….OK? It MIGHT be a bit far-fetched to think she can stay hidden, but it makes it more fun that way.

Even though this story is marked at complete, I am still around reading and writing here on the FF site and would love to hear from you!

I would greatly appreciate it if you would take just a moment to hit 'review', even if it is only one or two words. Please? Thank you so so much!