Lining up, broad side, right before the Viper was a ragged skeleton of an old man-of-war, which drifted gently just beyond the fog and hidden rocks. The entire bow and forecastle were engulfed in towering flames. The torn-up sails stained with ash. At the aft of the ship waved a tattered red flag with a blackened skull surrounded by white and gold fire. Two cross swords clenched in its teeth.
“Cutup,” I breathed in disbelief. The flag matched the description in the old sailor stories I heard, but logically it seemed even more impossible than learning about Skellig and the other skeleton’s in the cave. I could make out six skeletons on the main deck, working and readying two cannons along the port beam. A cold sweat covered my skin. “We need everyone to get back to the Orion. Now!”