Elijah didn't halt.
He grabbed a piece of burning debris from the deck, not caring about the pain, and hurled it at the center Marine's face. The man flinched, his shot going wide. Elijah was already inside his guard, palm slamming into his chest.
The stored kinetic energy from every blow he'd absorbed during the night released in a single devastating pulse.
The Marine flew backward into his companions. All three went down in a tangle of limbs and curses.
"Lifeboat's clear!" Duckworth had already reached the davits. "Help me with the ropes!"
Elijah grabbed the release mechanism and pulled. Ropes screamed through pulleys. The small boat dropped toward the churning water below.
"STOP THEM! SOMEONE STOP THEM!"
Commodore Whitmore had emerged from the chaos. His coat was gone. His uniform was torn. Half his face was blackened with soot, and blood trickled from a cut on his forehead.
But the rage in his eyes burned hotter than any fire on his ship.
"YOU'VE DESTROYED MY VESSEL! MY CAREER! EVERYTHING!"
"Yeah, about that." Elijah swung himself over the railing. "Really sorry. Actually, no. Not sorry at all. You're kind of a dick."
He dropped into the lifeboat.
Duckworth followed a second later, landing with the grace of a cat and immediately taking up position at the oars.
They pulled. The lifeboat shot away from the burning vessel's hull. Behind them, the Righteous Wrath continued its slow death, flames consuming the deck while Marines fought a losing battle against inevitable destruction.
Elijah's arms burned. His muscles screamed. But he couldn't stop grinning.
They'd done it. They'd actually done it.
"You know," he said between strokes, "I've been thinking about the whole 'temporary alliance' thing."
"We're not out of rifle range yet. Can this wait?"
"No, actually, it can't." Elijah stopped rowing. The boat drifted on the dark water, illuminated by the distant glow of the burning ship. "Look at me, Duckworth."
The bounty hunter's grey eyes met Elijah's purple ones.
"You want fame, right? A name that echoes through history? Something people remember a thousand years from now?"
"That's the goal."
Elijah leaned forward. The firelight danced across his face, catching those strange red rings in his irises. "Sailing with me? That makes you a founding member of something legendary. First mate of the Sparrow Pirates."
Duckworth didn't respond immediately.
The oars rested in the water. The boat rocked gently. Behind them, something on the Righteous Wrath exploded, sending another column of fire into the sky.
"First mate."
"First mate. Second-in-command. The man who stood beside me from the very beginning." Elijah extended his hand. "What do you say?"
Duckworth looked at the offered hand. Then at the burning ship. Then back at Elijah.
"I just destroyed a Marine vessel for you."
"Technically, you destroyed it for yourself. Whitmore had it coming."
"Fair point." A ghost of a smile crossed the bounty hunter's weathered features. "And if I say no?"
"Then I drop you at the nearest island and we go our separate ways. No hard feelings. But you'll spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been."
The silence stretched.
Waves lapped against the hull. Fire crackled in the distance. Somewhere, Commodore Whitmore was probably screaming orders that nobody could hear over the chaos.
Duckworth grabbed an oar.
"It's better than prison." He started rowing again, his strokes strong and steady. "And far less boring."
Elijah's grin threatened to split his face in half.
"Welcome aboard, First Mate Duckworth."
"Don't make me regret this."
"Too late."
They rowed in comfortable silence for a while, putting distance between themselves and the dying ship. The Righteous Wrath had stopped moving entirely now, its hull listing badly, flames consuming everything that would burn.
A figure appeared at the railing.
Even from this distance, Elijah recognized the Commodore's silhouette. Whitmore had found a megaphone somewhere, and his voice carried across the water, raw with fury and humiliation.
"THIS ISN'T OVER, SPARROW! I'LL HUNT YOU TO THE ENDS OF THE SEA! YOUR HEAD WILL HANG FROM MY WALL! I'LL SEE YOU EXECUTED IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!"
Elijah stood up in the boat.
Duckworth grabbed his arm. "Sit down before you flip us."
"Just give me a second." Elijah cupped his hands around his mouth. "HEY, COMMODORE!"
The distant figure paused.
"GENTLEMEN!" Elijah's voice rang across the waves, impossibly clear, impossibly confident. "THIS IS THE DAY YOU WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER! THE DAY YOU ALMOST CAPTURED..."
He paused for effect.
"...CAPTAIN ELIJAH SPARROW!"
And then he bowed. A deep, theatrical, absolutely ridiculous bow that nearly tipped him into the ocean.
Duckworth caught him by the belt and yanked him back down.
"You're going to get us killed."
"Worth it." Elijah was laughing now, genuine and free, the sound carrying across the dark water. "Did you see his face? Tell me you saw his face."
"I was busy making sure you didn't drown."
"It was amazing. Trust me."
They rowed until the burning ship became a distant glow on the horizon. Until the screaming voices faded to silence. Until there was nothing around them but dark water and darker sky.
Elijah finally stopped rowing and pulled the compass from his pocket.
The Wayward Compass. His father's gift. The only thing that mattered.
He flipped it open.
The needle was spinning.
Not pointing anywhere. Not settling on any direction. Just spinning like a thing possessed. Round and round and round, faster than he'd ever seen it move.
Duckworth leaned over to look. "What the hell is it doing? Is it broken?"
Elijah stared at the spinning needle.
And laughed.
"Broken? No, my friend." He snapped the compass shut and tucked it back into his pocket. "It's not broken. It's just excited."
"Excited."
"The compass points to what I want most." Elijah picked up his oar and started rowing again, that impossible grin still plastered across his face. "And right now? I want everything. Every adventure. Every treasure. Every challenge this world can throw at me."
He looked at Duckworth, those purple eyes burning with something that might have been madness or might have been destiny.
"Our story is finally beginning!"