"Shorter and shorter every time!" Hook exclaims, as if reading my mind. "Nothing like a night on the seas to clear one's head. Have you thought anymore on our –ah –proposal?"

I inhale, but my attention is swept away by the arrival of a third guard.

"Captain Hook, beg your pardon, Sir," he says, approaching our crescent formation as though walking on eggshells.

"Yes, yes, what is it?" Hook asks without looking.

"A riot, Sir. At the Nest, in the bazaar –the whole market's joined in," the messenger announces, bending into a deep bow.

"Another?" Hook asks, boredom settling on his face.

"Several, by the looks."

"Pull up to the Gate," Hooks says, shoving his teacup back into Smee's hands. "How many times must I herd these unruly cattle before they fall in line?"

"I've laid out your coat, cap'n," Mr Smee mumbles.

"See to it, father. They only listen to you," Salt says, almost smugly, like he's challenging his father to ignore his duty.

"Very well. I'll deal with you two later," Hook says, eyes narrowing in our direction. "You are not permitted to leave this ship. You may visit the decks, but you are forbidden to leave the Jolly Roger, do you understand?"

Hook speaks more to his son than to me, but his eyes linger on mine for a brief moment before he turns on his heels, whipping his robe behind him.

I can't believe our luck!

Whatever the riots entail –and whatever started them –I'm more grateful now than ever for the unpredictability of drunken pirates.

The remaining guards follow Hook down the hallway and out of sight.

I lean back against the wall, my heart skipping beats to catch up. I didn't realize I had held my breath.

Salt looks at me, eyes wide, a playful smiling toying with the corners of his lips. He looks much more like the boy I met on the river than the solider I dined with last night.

A cacophony erupts above deck, the ceiling over our heads moving under the weight of a hundred stampeding feet. Canon fire. The floor turns sideways beneath us as the Jolly Roger is tossed on its side, no doubt a blow from enemy fire.

"What–" I start.

Salt grabs my hand and pulls me down the hallway and into a new, deserted corridor. A wide window stands floor to ceiling at the end. Through it, a clear view of the Nest comes into sight.

The air is thick with smoke from blazing buildings and gunfire. Bodies are running and stumbling over dead bodies slumped against the docks. The glints of hilts catch my eye every three feet –pirate after pirate engaged in swordfight. Canon fire continues to echo around us as pilings are blasted to bits and portions of the pier slip into the water.

Soldiers dressed in the same maritime uniform Salt wore last night flood the plank of the Jolly Roger, spilling over onto the docks. Pirates swing on ropes from the rooftops, flying over the railings and dropping themselves onto the quarterdeck of the Jolly Roger.

We are under attack.

"Rebels," Salt growls.

"That doesn't sound good," I pant.

"It's not," Salt confirms.

"No Lost Boys?" I ask, fear constricting my windpipe.

"No. It'll be other pirates –the lesser crews," Salt utters.

Relief.

"But can't we just–"

The loudest crack yet almost breaks my eardrums. Salt pushes me sideways just in time, tackling me to the ground as a tire-sized hole rips into the window above us. Shards of glass pelt down on us like heavy hail.

A pirate races down the hallway, brandishing a sword and waving it wildly at our feet. I back up, crawling in reverse on the glass-covered floor. Salt jumps to his feet and in one fluid motion has released his own sword from its sheath. He dodges the pirate's blade, throws a punch at his face, and buries his vane in the man's gut.

Salt turns, eyes dark and wild, and lifts me from the floor.

"Let's go," Salt urges.

I let him lead me away from the window and down a secondary passageway. The ship continues to quake beneath us, throwing off my balance with each blow. The smoke from the harbor has penetrated the inside of the ship and I choke through the pungent odor of charred flesh and wood.

"Salt!" I cough. My hands are reaching for him in front of me, but I cannot see anything through the haze.

"Come on," Salt says, appearing at my side. He grabs my hand again and pulls me forward with him.

I trip over my feet and over damaged pieces of ship and fallen pirates on my way out. Salt slays everyone that crosses our path. I cling to him like the lifeline he is, as I am surely no match for a Neverland pirate.

Finally we reach the hull of the ship. I recognize how narrow it is on either side of us. Salt deposits his sword back in its spot and starts feeling along the nearest wall. I watched, bewildered, as he punches through a wooden hatch that swings down to reveal a small opening.

"Jump."

"What?" I stare, mouth agape.

"Do you want to make it off this ship or not? Jump!" Salt places a hand on either side of my waist and hoists me into the square hole.

I exhale in disbelief, but do as I'm told and jump.

I keep my legs tight as I plunge into the depths of the warm water. Water gushes around me and I can feel the displacement as Salt lands beside me.

We break the surface, gasping for air after coming up. Even the smoke-filled air is welcome to my thirsty lungs.

Salt swims to the side of the barnacle-encrusted hull and I follow close behind him.

"Here," Salt says, pulling my arm through a hanging rope. I grasp onto it to give my arms a break from treading.

"Thank you," I breathe.

We watch the scene from our shelter under the mermaid figurehead. It protrudes into the water before us, overhanging low to the surface.

The Nest is swarming with bodies like a hive guarded by angry bees. The bazaar is ablaze; crates are upturned and barrels are spilled. Pirates are locked in combat on every ship in the harbor. Every level of the Jolly Roger has been infiltrated with enemies. No one seems to have noticed the two daredevil jumpers.

Salt turns to me, his wet hair hanging in his eyes.

"Can you swim?"

"Can I –Of course I can swim!" I sputter through water.

"Good. Can you hold your breath?" His smirk catches me off guard.

I spot the shore on the opposite side of the small strip of cove in front of the hull. It's not far, but it's not close either. I swallow hard and nod.

Salt uses his feet to launch himself from the ship. The extra momentum propels him forward a few extra strides. I follow suit and, taking a deep lungful breath of stale sea air, thrust myself off the side of the ship.

I open my eyes as I reach the end of the cove. My eyes water and my lungs are on fire. The water is shallow here and I can stand, but I remain under, breaking the surface only when Salt does.

He hoists me from the water as my clothes are now sopping wet and weighing me down. We are twenty –thirty tops –feet from the edge of the dock, from the thick of the bedlam. My eyes rake the scene, first finding Mr Smee hobbling away from the Nest and finally spotting Hook's read tailcoat near the pier.

He has a sword in each hand, wielding them with equal finesse. His hat sits askew his black hair and as he turns, his eyes catch mine, and inflate with rage.

"NO!"

I think I can hear him shout from the dock, but I can't be sure.

Salt turns to watch his father, looks at me, and then puts his back to the whole cove.

"Should we –I mean –do something?" I cannot believe I'm asking.

"This is a pirate's fight," Salt says, suddenly moody.

"A pirate's fight? What about –the Marooners? What about–" I grapple my thoughts.

"The Marauder left port last night on my orders. I saw to it before –" Salts stops himself short.

I know he's thinking about our shared meal –about what was discussed there.

"Before dinner?" I offer for him.

"Aye," Salt sighs.

I look down at my body, bloodied by other peoples' wounds and smudged with dark ash. I push the wet hair out of my face, retying it with my blue ribbon. I wring out my shirt and tie that into a knot as well. It hands lose over my chest where a shard of glass made a deep gash in the fabric.

Salt does not watch me adjust myself, whether it's out of his own modesty or respect for mine I am unsure. Minutes pass and he still stands with his back to me. I clear my throat to announce I am done.

"We should move on." Salt's eyes bore into mine.

I've been so distracted the last 24 hours that it's hard to believe just one day ago I was confronting Pan –standing mere inches from his inhuman face, staring into his inhuman eyes.

A flurry of feelings swells inside me and I'm embarrassed to greet them. I shake it from my mind.

I push straight past Salt and shout behind me,"Let's go!"