Maddock chuckled and gave his sister a quick hug. Though they had the same father, Maddock had grown up in Florida, Avery in Nova Scotia. He had only learned of her existence a few years ago. Since then they’d developed a solid relationship, made awkward only by the fact that Avery had briefly joined the ranks of women who tried and failed to make an honest man of Bones.
Avery’s apartment was painted in bright tropical colors and boasted an open floor plan and lots of windows. After years in the great white north, she’d taken to the beach life and aesthetic with a vengeance. She did not, however, have the same commitment to neatness. Books and papers lay on every table and countertop, discarded clothing and shoes lay here and there, and there appeared to be no organizational system whatsoever to her collection of DVDs.
“You’ve got that disapproving look in your eyes, mister ex-military,” Avery said. “What can I say? I’m comfortable in clutter.”
“Is that what you call this?” Maddock cast a meaningful glance at a lacy bra hanging from a ficus tree.
“Oh, crap. Sorry.” Avery snatched the offending undergarment and hid it behind her back. “I had a friend over last night, and things got interesting.” Her fair features turned a delicate shade of crimson. “Didn’t have time to clean up before work, and I only got home a little while ago.”
“No judgment here,” Maddock said. “Last night, Bones talked me into bar-hopping in Panama City with a couple of girls who were barely old enough to drink.”
Avery quirked an eyebrow. “Finally on the rebound?”
“No, just humoring Bones.”
“So her bra didn’t end up dangling from a lampshade?”
Maddock’s cheeks heated. “Were you able to find that research I needed?”
“Fine, change the subject. Like I told you I’ve only been home from work for a few minutes. Do you really think Tam would let me take a day off to sort through reams of Dad’s pirate research?”
Tam Broderick headed up the Myrmidon Squad, of which Avery was a member. She was a faithful ally but also a demanding leader who never forgot a debt owed.
“Even a Myrmidon is allowed to take a personal day every now and then.”
Avery laughed. “I don’t get enough days off to blow them on one of your treasure hunts.”
“Yeah, but this one is a pirate treasure. You can’t deny that’s your bailiwick.”
“Don’t try to tempt me, Maddock. I’ve got plenty on my plate at the moment. Come on. I’ve got the stuff laid out. If Dad had anything on Black Caesar, it should be among this stuff.”
Hunter Maddock, Dane and Avery’s father, had devoted his life to researching pirates and pirate treasure. Although his specialty was Captain Kidd, he’d done extensive research on many of the buccaneers that plied the seas during the Golden Age of Piracy. Much of the information he’d collected was anecdotal, and could not be found in books or online. It was this research that covered the kitchen table and counters.
“See? It’s not all my mess,” Avery said, correctly reading his mind.
Avery put a frozen pizza in the oven, then poured two frosty mugs of Moosehead lager, calling Maddock a “Philistine” when he said he’d be happy to drink from the bottle. “No wisecracks about Canadian beer,” she warned.
“I’m saying nothing.” Though he was loathe to admit it, Maddock enjoyed the full flavor, light malt base, and crisp finish of the Canadian brew. He took a swallow and nodded approvingly. “Not bad.”
They set to sorting through Hunter Maddock’s research. It took all of Maddock’s self-control not to suggest an organizational system. Though highly competent in her professional research, Avery was much more relaxed about her personal life, and these papers, the only thing of their father’s that had been passed along to her, were firmly planted in that realm.
After twenty minutes of searching, Avery let out an “Aha!” and held up a few sheets. “There’s not much here, but it’s all on Black Caesar.”
They cleared space at the table, and Avery read the highlights of the papers around mouthfuls of Margherita pizza. The first page was a biographical sketch, the details of which were already familiar to Maddock. It was the second page where things got interesting.
“Listen to this,” Avery said. “Black Caesar reportedly had the ability to conjure a thick fog that would blind his enemies. He often used this as a means of escape when the odds weren’t in his favor. He’s got notes from all sorts of different sources repeating the same story.” She paused to wipe a bit of tomato sauce off of the page.
“You’re spraying food. Would it kill you to swallow before you speak?”
Avery rolled her eyes. “If Bones were here, can you imagine the pun he’d make out of that statement?”
“The fact that your mind went there too says a lot about you.”
“I used to teach at the university level. The kids rubbed off on me.”
“Of course they did.” Maddock scooted his chair closer to his sister. “Anything about how, exactly, he created the fog? Dad used the word ‘conjure,’ and he always chose his words with care.”
“I don’t know,” Avery began, moving to the second page. “Maybe the same way he made ghosts appear?”
Maddock frowned. “Ghosts?”
“Ghosts. Spirits. Genies. Each account uses a different term, but all the people Dad talked to agreed that Caesar had a way of calling mystical spirits to his aid.”
“So he was some sort of wizard with spirits and fog to do his bidding?”
“Seems like it. At least, that’s what the legends say.” Avery took a drink and stared out the sliding glass door toward the distant waters of the Gulf of Mexico, just visible from her apartment. “There must be something to the legend, or else Dad wouldn’t have recorded these accounts. He was judicious about what information he kept and what he discarded.”
“I didn’t know that.” Maddock and his father had enjoyed a close relationship, but they’d mostly stuck to traditional father and son activities. While Hunter had often regaled him with tales of the sea, he’d reserved the serious discussion of pirate research for his time with Avery. Even now, the revelation that his father led a secret life still stung, and Maddock couldn’t deny that he felt a touch of jealousy that a part of his father’s life had been reserved for Avery, but he knew he’d gotten the best parts of his father and she’d been left with scraps. Any petty jealousy he felt was overwhelmed by the genuine sympathy he felt for her.
“A few years ago, I’d have chalked it up to him finding the story interesting enough to write down, but since I met you guys,” she rolled her eyes in his direction, “I can no longer dismiss the supernatural as mere legend.” She let out a huff of breath. “Life was so much easier when I was an only child.”
“Easy is boring.”
“You low-key sounded just like Bones. It’s disconcerting.” Avery moved on to the next page, scanning it quickly, occasionally whispering something Maddock could just make out.
“Magic ring… controlled spirits… harem of over one hundred women… gold and treasure…”
“Is this about King Solomon?”
Avery frowned. “No, it’s about Black Caesar. According to this, he had a magic ring that he brought with him from Africa. It was taken from him when the slavers captured him but he befriended a crewman and convinced the man to steal the ring back for him. It was with this ring that he called up the storm that allowed him to escape. He told only a precious few about its existence, and vowed that it would be the inheritance of the most worthy of his children. With a harem of a hundred women, I imagine there were plenty of contenders vying for the prize.” She looked up from her reading. “What made you think of Solomon? The treasure and the harem?”