This story was my entry in Raconteur Press’s Planks and Plunder anthology open call in August 2025. Since it didn’t make the cut for the anthology, I’ve decided to post it here - I want to give those who follow me more fiction when I can!
Let me know what you think. I’d love to know what you liked and didn’t like about the story; I may be able to polish it up and try again on down the road if I find another anthology it will fit.
Teig O’Niel stepped through the hatch onto the main deck and let his eyes acclimate to the darkness. A thin veil of sea fog enveloped the ship, adding ghostly halos to the lanterns. A spray of stars dotted the sky above his head, while the full moon hung low above the eastern horizon, its silver light dancing across the waves. The wind ruffled his longish brown curls as he crossed the Etoile Noire’s mid deck with practiced ease, balancing the bowl and the bucket of sea water he carried without spilling a drop from either. He stopped at the murky doorway of the Captain’s quarters and peered into the darkness, licking the salt from his chapped lips.
“Who goes thar?” Bosun Marek stepped out of the shadow of the main mast and squinted in the light of the lantern he uncovered. He caught sight of Teig’s bright eyes and grunted. “Oh, its you, eh?”
“Aye, Sir.” The boy held up the bowl and pail. “Come for me duty for the Captain.”
Marek snorted. “Cap’n ain’t in his quarters.” He jerked his grizzled chin toward the bow. “He’s on the fo’c’sle.”
Teig caught sight of the imposing figure of Captain Yan Corbeau in the faint moonlight splashing across the fore deck. The man’s long blond hair, held by a ribbon at the nape of his neck, hung down the back of his frock coat. The captain stood with his gold sextant in hand, focused on the western skies. A strange pouch covered in glistening white feathers peaked out from beneath his coat. Teig wrinkled his nose. “What’s he doing?”
“What’s it look like, Rat? He’s gettin’ a sight.”
Teig frowned. “A sight? In this?” He nodded at the rising fog surrounding the ship.
Marek sneered. “You got wax for brains, Boy? Hain’t you figured it out by now? The Cap’n is right uncanny, he is. He don’t need no clear horizon nor open sky to chart his course.”
Teig’s pride stung a little at the slur, but he pushed it down. “So what is the captain sightin’ for this time o’ night?”
Marek glanced at the few hands going about their nightly duties. He leaned in close and lowered his voice. “There’s rumors that we be settin’ sail for the Shattered Veil.”
“Shattered Veil?” Teig frowned. “What’s that?”
Marek scoffed. “You ain’t never heard of the Shattered Veil or the Hidden Isle with treasures untold?”
The boy shook his head, and Marek sniffed in disdain. “All seamen know the stories of the Shattered Veil. Legend says that every thirteen years it appears under the light of the last full moon of summer. Never shows in the same place twice. But iffin’ you be lucky to find her, you walk away with more treasure than the entire Spanish Main has ever seen; more wealth than a man can spend in ten lifetimes!”
Teig glanced back at the captain and his golden sextant. “Do you think he could really find such a place?”
Marek nodded. “If anyone can find it, it’ll be Captain Corbeau. He’s uncanny, I tell ya, and he ain’t never led us wrong. If he’s after the Veil, he’ll find her.”
“I suppose.” Doubt still colored the boy’s tone. He held up the bowl. “I better get this inside a’fore he comes down.”
“That the grub for the Cap’n’s little guest?” A leer crossed Marek’s face.
Teig clenched his jaw, irritated by the man’s insinuation. “It ain’t like that.”
Marek grunted. “Guess it don’t matter one way or the other ta me. Ain’t me business.” He stepped to the side and motioned to the door. “Get on about ya duty.”
Teig slipped the handle of the bucket onto his wrist to free his hand and pushed his way inside, shutting the door closed behind him. He crossed the thick carpet of the cabin, being sure not to spill a drop from the bowl or the bucket.
Moonlight shone through the large window panes that made up the back wall, giving him plenty of light to see where he was going. He skirted the velvet armchairs and the large mahogany table, pausing for a moment to glance at the charts and other papers scattered across its surface. Nothing of the lines or squiggles made any sense to him.
He turned his back to the table and knelt down beside the iron cage nestled in the corner. “Hey,” he said quietly. “I brought yer dinner.”
The girl’s head shot up from her knees at his call, but the fear quickly gave way to relief. She gave him a small smile.
Teig set the bowl on the floor and pushed it through the little slot in the door. “It’s not much, but it’s filling.”
He carefully poured the bucket of seawater into a basin set in the cage's corner and settled back to watch her dip her hands into it and splash her face. He didn’t understand why it was so important to bring her the seawater each night, but she seemed to enjoy it. It was nice to give her at least a small bit of pleasure.
Her white-blonde hair flowed down her back and across her shoulders in waves of quicksilver that glittered in the moonlight. Her skin was smooth and white as pearl; her eyes a lovely mix of green and blue that reminded him of the sky above the green hills of home. He had never seen anyone as lovely as she, and it left him feeling all mixed up inside. Giddy and somewhat shy when she smiled at him in gratitude, then disgruntled and helpless at her captivity.
He looked around the cabin for something to distract his thoughts. His eyes landed on the charts on the table. “The Captain is takin’ a sight tonight. The bosun says he’s lookin’ for something called the Shattered Veil.”
The girl drew a sharp breath. He swung around to see her frightened eyes and frowned. “You know it?”
She clutched at the cruel iron band encircling her throat and nodded. Teig sighed and slumped forward, leaning his elbow on his knees. “I wish you could tell me about it. It don’t sound like it could be real, but me ma always told me there was more to the world than just what me eyes could see and me ears could hear.”
The thought of his mother sent a pang of homesickness through his heart. He absentmindedly fiddled with the strings of his shirt. One caught in the cord around his neck, and he tugged it, pulling the worn pendant free of his collar. It was a small white shell, chipped now and smudged, with faint markings etched on the front side. He slipped it over his head and held it up for her to see. “Me ma gave me this, before I went ta sea. She said it bore the protection of the sea god, and would keep me from harm and bring me home.” He studied the shell as it twisted slowly in the moonlight. “I’s didn’t get kilt when Captain Corbeau sunk the Blue Heron, so I’s suppose maybe there be something to it, but I’s don’t know if gettin’ taken by the Captain and forced to be his cabin boy is much better.”
The girl tilted her head at him in sympathy. He gave her a rueful shrug. “We’re not much different, really. Well, ceptin’ yer in that cage and I’m out here. But we’re both prisoners.” He set the shell spinning and watched it with faraway eyes.
As the pendant slowed, something flashed across its surface. He examined it with a frown. The faint spidery lines of the etching that had long worn away seemed for one moment to glow. The girl leaned forward and squinted to see, then gasped. She reached through the bars and motioned for the shell.
Teig jerked away in surprise. “What?” He held the pendant up. “You want this?”
She waved at him impatiently.
He looked from it to her, reluctant to part with it, then sighed and laid it in her hand. She jerked it into the cage and settled on her heels to study it in the moonlight.
“What?” Teig watched her, curious.
She traced the faint etching with one finger, then looked at the moon through the window. She mouthed words he couldn’t hear—then plunged the shell into the basin of seawater.
“Hey!”
He reached through the bars, then stopped as the shell began to glow in the moonlit water. He jerked his hand back.
The girl pulled a single hair free from her head and slowly lowered it onto the surface of the water. It twisted as it sank down into the depths to settle on the pendant’s blazing face in loops, tracing out a pattern in bright white silver. She pulled the shell free from the water and held it in her hand. A bright silver-etched triskelion clearly marked the white surface. She closed her eyes, clutched the pendant and kissed her fist, then opened tear-rimmed eyes and gave him a trembling smile before holding the now-faded pendant out to him.
His mouth hung open and he rubbed his cheek, astonished. He took it from her with hesitant fingers and examined it closely. “Ma was right? It’s really magic?”
She nodded.
“Well, I’ll be.” He looked at her with wide eyes. “How’d you know? How’d you do that?”
The ship’s bell began to clang, followed by a harsh shout. “All hands on deck! Get up here, ye sea dogs!”
Teig quickly looped the pendant over his head and concealed it beneath his shirt before the door burst open. The menacing figure of Captain Corbeau pushed into the room.
The two shied away from the man’s dark gaze.
The captain jammed a key into the lock and jerked the cage door open. He dragged the girl out and held her in a tight grip. “Time to put you to good use.”
He pulled her out of the door.
Teig scrambled to his feet and ran outside.
The crew were scattered across the mid-deck, mumbling amongst themselves. Teig watched the Captain pull the girl up the steps to the forecastle and force her onto the bowsprit. He tied her tightly to the rail, then strode back across the ship, pushing through the crew. Teig caught a glimpse of his golden sextant clutched in his hand as the man passed him and took the stairs to the stern deck above. He stepped behind the wheel.
A sailor caught sight of something to the west and leaned over to get a better look. His eyes widened. “Its the Veil! The Cap’n’s found her!”
Teig followed the men to the gunwale to get a better look ahead. There on the surface of the sea, a dark shape loomed, billowing up toward the sky like a hurricane, the ominous clouds blotting out the stars. The boy swallowed hard, feeling suddenly uneasy.
A sardonic grin split the captain’s craggy face. “Aye, boys—there she be. The Shattered Veil. Step lively now! Hoist the canvas! Sheet the topsails! Fast now! We catch her ‘fore dawn and we greet the sun as rich men!”
The crew cheered with excitement.
Captain Corbeau raised his sextant to his eye and put a hand to the wheel. Teig followed his line of sight and realized he was sighting off the girl, facing the dark cloud ahead alone. He gripped the rail tightly, wishing he could do something, anything to help her.
The cloud loomed over them in a wall too thick for the eye to pierce. Then they were through and instantly enveloped in the inky darkness.
The lantern lights guttered and dimmed under the weight of the gloom. Teig’s ears rang in the silence. Fear froze him in place. His eyes darted across the deck, seeing the hardened sailors around him likewise motionless, their eyes wide with fright. The fog slid across their chests and shoulders in long tendrils, causing them to flinch or gasp. His eyes widened as he realized he could see black figures with gaunt faces and spectral fingers moving in the mist, tormenting the crewmen with their touch.
One reached for him.
Teig started to backpedal away, but his feet hit a coil of rope and he fell backwards across the coarse hemp. A ghostly shape loomed over him, reaching for his face. His breath froze in his lungs and he clutched at his shirt in terror. His fingers wrapped around the pendant lying beneath the cloth—and warmth spread across his chest.
The apparition flinched away as though burned and disappeared back into the gloom. The mist moved away from him, leaving him lying in a pocket of clean air.
Teig looked down to see his fingers glowing where they clasped the pendant, then back up with wide eyes. All the other men stood wrapped in the misty arms of ghostly figures, their faces gray and haunted—all except Corbeau. The captain stood grim at the ship’s wheel, immune to the effects of the fog. The boy turned to follow his unwavering stare to see the girl glowing dimly at the bow. He’s using her like a guiding star, Teig realized.
He kept his hand on the pendant above his pounding heart and his eyes on the girl.
The fog in front began to lighten and thin.
“We’re coming through, boys!” Corbeau shouted. “Get movin’, ye scurvy dogs! Ease the sheets! Back the sails! The chase is near its end!”
The captain’s orders broke the spell over the crew. The shroud fell away, and the men shook their heads, coming back to their senses. Teig felt the fear that had clenched his guts loosen and he climbed to his feet to join the crew in the work. Within minutes, they passed through the outer wall of the mist and sailed into clear waters.
Dark shapes of islands came into view on either side of the ship, forming a crescent shape around the large lagoon. The sea lay calm within the shelter, reflecting the starlight so clearly that it seemed the ship floated in the sky itself. The warm breeze carried an exotic scent that tantalized the senses and stirred the blood. Teig felt as though they had entered a dream.
The ship slowed as it moved into shallow water, expertly guided by the captain. “Take in the sails and cast anchor!”
Corbeau barked more orders before turning the wheel over to the helmsman and striding to the edge of the quarterdeck beside the mast. He gazed at the large island looming up before them and grinned, his teeth showing brilliant white beneath his thick mustache.
The anchor hit the water with a splash. Teig grabbed the rail as the deck tilted slightly against the dragging force. The chain rolled off its wheel and drew taut with a rumble and a clang. The anchor caught in the seabed, causing the ship to shudder beneath his feet before leveling off and slowing to a crawl and then a stop.
Teig stared across the port gunwale at the island bathed in moonlight. A white strip of beach separated the water from the woods of the interior. Fronds of palm trees glinted subtly from an unseen light source as they waved in the slight breeze. The black shape of a mountain rose in the distance. The scent of tropical flowers grew strong, drawing attention toward the island, seeming to bid them to come and partake of its pleasures.
Captain Corbeau crossed to the foredeck and cut the bonds of the girl before jerking her back across the rail. He barely gave her time to steady her feet before he bound her hands and dragged her forward. “Drop the longboats, men. Step lively; the night is passin’ fast.”
“Who’ll stay with the ship?” Marek’s voice echoed across the stillness.
The captain grinned. “These be enchanted waters; no need to leave behind a crew. Every man jack of you gets o’piece of the treasure.”
A loud cheer rose, but Teig frowned. Not leave a crew behind? That was odd!
He caught sight of the girl staring at the island, a look of dread etched on her face. A shiver coursed through him, and his fingers drifted to the pendant. What has her so a’feared?
He clambered into the first longboat behind the captain and settled nearby as it launched. The oarsmen set a course for the island, followed by the other two boats.
Teig gazed across the water, mesmerized by the glasslike surface studded with stars.
A ripple suddenly set the starlight bobbing far beyond the wake of the boats.
Was that a fish? Teig wondered.
Another ripple appeared, closer this time. He leaned forward, gripping the edge, and squinted at the disturbance.
“Hey!” The call from one of the other vessels broke the silence. “There’s somethin’ in the water!”
Before anyone could move, a huge shape launched up from the water and latched onto the shoulder of the nearest sailor. The man barely had time to scream before he was wrenched beneath the waves with a splash.
Another dark shape shot up beside the other boat and jerked a pirate beneath the waves. The water around the boats frothed and foamed as several large black eels exploded from the depths with gaping maws of razor-sharp teeth and deafening high-pitched screeches.
Shouts echoed across the water as the men scrambled to draw their weapons. Blood-tinged foam covered the churning water.
One of the monsters surged up beside Teig. He grabbed the edge of his seat as the longboat tipped hard. The rower behind him slammed his oar against the beast.
In a single silver streak, the captain’s sword cut a deep gash into the monster’s neck. It collapsed back with a gurgling shriek.
A terrible crack sounded nearby. Teig whipped around to see one longboat break in two as a huge eel crashed down across it, throwing wooden planks and men into the air. Terrified screams resounded through the night.
“Enough of this,” the captain growled. He re-sheathed his sword and jerked the girl close up beside him. He pulled a feather from the strange pouch on his belt and laid it against the girl's lips. “Speak.”
The feather glowed white and then disappeared. The girl took a deep breath. “Light,” she gasped through choking coughs.
The stars above brightened, drawing their rays across the water like a lighthouse beacon, coalescing into a single bright beam that enveloped the two remaining boats and formed a wide path across the water to the beach.
The eels shrieked and shied away from the light.
“Row, damn it! Make for the shore!” The captain pointed toward the beach.
The oarsmen quickly complied, cutting into the water and pulling hard away from the boiling madness. The screams died away, replaced by wet gurgles and the horrible sounds of rending flesh amid splashing water. Teig dared not look back, keeping his eyes on the captain standing tall at the front of the boat.
The white shore shimmered in welcome as they approached. The rowers held their oars high, letting the longboats glide in the last few yards and lodge gently in the sand. The crew disembarked with a splash into the ankle-deep water and hauled the boats further up the beach before turning around to see the starlit path fade away. Waves tinged in bloody foam lapped at the shore, carrying bits of flotsam from the wreckage. A few last shrieks from the eels echoed across the water.
Several men shuddered, and one crossed himself. The Captain watched them with a sneer. “Fools. Did you think the Veil would give up her treasure so easily?” he pulled his sword and pointed it at the mountain looming over them. “Keep yer pistols cocked and your cutlasses ready. She has more mischief in mind ere we reach her bounty.”
He stepped into the jungle, jerking the girl alongside him.
Stay tuned to next week for part 2!
Good story - I enjoyed that. You and I look familiar - are we by any chance related?