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Step by Step

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Izzy cast the walking stick into the sea along with every other affectation of Stede-fucking-Bonnet’s gentlemanly ways. Each step was a thrilling agony, but it was nothing to the joy of casting sail and leaving the jetsam behind. Each step left him breathless with pain, but he turned the limp into a rolling, deck-eating stride. Each step throbbed so that he could do nothing but bare his teeth in anguish, until the paint on the captain’s face cracked and twisted into a terrible, beautiful thing that was nothing like a smile but familiar all the same.

Izzy took another step.