Informationen zum Autor Gabe Cole Novoa Klappentext On Mar Leâon de la Rosa's sixteenth birthday, el Diablo comes calling. Mar is a transmasculine nonbinary teen pirate hiding a magical ability to manipulate fire and ice. But their magic isn't enough to reverse a wicked bargain made by their father, and now el Diablo has come to collect his payment: the soul of Mar's father and the entire crew of their ship. When Mar is miraculously rescued by the sole remaining pirate crew in the Caribbean, el Diablo returns to give them a choice: give up their soul to save their father by the harvest moon, or never see him again. The task is impossible -- Mar refuses to make a bargain, and there's no way their magic is a match for el Diablo. Then Mar finds the most unlikely allies: Bas, an infuriatingly arrogant and handsome pirate -- and the captain's son; and Dami, a gender-fluid demonio whose motives are never quite clear. For the first time in their life, Mar may have the courage to use their magic. It could be their only redemption -- or it could mean certain death. Leseprobe Chapter 1 August 3, 1820 Papá says water speaks to those willing to listen. On the night Mar arrived silently in the world, the ocean danced and clapped in time with the roaring thunder and unrelenting rain. Mar's parents named them after the sea ­because the water had celebrated so fiercely, it nearly sank ­La Catalina when Mar took their first breath. Of course, Mar has no memory of their birth, but they imagine it was probably a night like tonight: dark as ink and so wet that they can barely keep their eyes open against the downpour. Fitting, as today's their sixteenth birthday. Mar leans against the rail of the crow's nest, squinting into the storm. The warm rain pelts their face and paints their lips, seeping into their mouth and soaking their clothes until their black linen shirt clings to their brown skin. Thunder like an army running through the tempest rolls through them. The rain is heavy and feels like drumming on their skin; though it's hard to separate the rain's embrace from the uneasy magia humming in their bones. Mar presses their hands down their rain-­slick arms, trying to ignore the fact that the edges of their black markings are glowing orange. The birthmark weaves over their arms and chest and down their legs like thick, black mazes. At least now Mar is old enough to pretend their markings are tattoos. Mar shakes their head and takes a deep breath. They can argue with their magia later. Leo, the quartermaster, sent them up here to peer through the blurry, endless sheet of rain to the raging waters. La Catalina is supposed to be nearing Isla Mujeres, off the coast of the Yucatán Peninsula. It's where Mar grew up, and Papá's crew frequently returns to deliver most of the treasures and resources they've taken from the Spaniards. It isn't really stealing­more like returning, since the Spaniards stole it from those living around the Caribbean Sea in the first place. Out of the Spaniards' hands and back to the people. After five successful raids, the crew's haul is one of their biggest yet, but this storm is throwing them off course. If Mar's magia were useful, it might point them in the right direction, like a compass. But no, all Mar's magia ever does is cause them grief. It's a lesson they've had to learn the hard way, and one they don't intend to forget. Mar swiftly climbs down the rigging, gripping the rope with their toes, careful not to slip on the water-­slick holdings. They've climbed up to and down from the crow's nest on La Catalina so often, they could do it in their sleep. And a good thing, too, because it's dark tonight, Mar might as well be blindfolded. Their bare feet have scarcely touched the soaked wooden slats of the deck when a crack of lightning slices through the night, followed by a rumble Mar can feel in their chest. Papá is...

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Gabe Cole Novoa