Rae Harris
Editor-in-chief
The sea rocked beneath Captain Nightingale’s mighty ship, lightning breaking through the clouds. He wrenched the helm to the left, crashing through the rising waves. His crew bellowed orders as water poured over the portside railing and the sea collapsed on top of them. For a moment, Captain Nightingale prayed to forgotten gods that they’d be spared.
On the crest of the next looming wave, he caught sight of jagged cliffs on the horizon. They were so close. He shouted for his crew to hold their positions even as the newer members trembled under the weight of their fear.
“Turn back!” the banshee chained to the mast screamed, her wailing the mourning for those yet to pass.
Captain Nightingale clenched his teeth as his second-in-command stumbled up the stairs toward him.
“The banshee,” Brewer gasped, his knuckles white around the finished wood of the bridge’s rail. “She sensed—”
“We’ll break through!” Captain Nightingale yelled over the roar of thunder. “Even the jaws of hell can’t hold us back!”
Brewer was pale, tears hidden among the rain. “But Captain—” Before he could finish, lightning flashed, illuminating a shape in the distance. “By the gods.”
“The Shadow,” Captain Nightingale breathed, in awe at its majesty. The phantom ship glided over the turbulant waves as if it was the calmest of seas, its black flag resisting the call of the wind. “We’ve done it.” He almost couldn’t believe that the tales his mum had told him were true—no crew, no captain, filled to the seams with gold and treasure. It was there, real and flawless.
And he’d be the next to grasp her helm.
Their ship drew near to the legend. “Avast!” he called. “All hands!”
The waves flattened between one blink and the next, the sky ceased its war, and all was still like a spell cast over the chaos.
The banshee’s cries fell on deaf ears.
Captain Nightingale positioned the ships parallel, Brewer rushing down to drop the gangplank. The Shadow was as empty and lifeless as the legends claimed, as docile as a dream.
Until Captain Nightingale set a hand upon the helm. The Shadow quivered beneath them, ropes and sails coming alive.
He heard the screams of his crew—started and stopped. The howl of the banshee.
Darkness fell over his eyes and there was nothing but The Shadow.
In his bones, he knew it to be true—he was now the captain of The Shadow.
But he realized too late that the legend wasn’t worth the price.
Inspired by “Tale of the Shadow” by Sail North
