Chapter 10
WE SWITCH BACK TO a daytime schedule, with most of the crew alert when the sun is out.
Not that the sun makes much of a difference these days. The air is so cold I can see my breath in front of me. I keep the hood of my warm jacket over my ears and regularly have to cover my nose with my hands. Any burnable debris from the fight was stored belowdecks to dry out. We’ve plenty to burn to keep everyone warm below. But taking shifts on the deck is hard.
The floating ice gets bigger and bigger, until we have icebergs bigger than the ship. They slow us down considerably, as we have to alter course to avoid hitting anything.
“I didn’t know it could get this cold,” Kearan says with his hands firmly on the helm. He has thick gloves encasing his fingers. I can’t imagine how cold the wood must be to the touch. I’m surprised the ocean isn’t frozen solid yet.
“Talking is hard,” Enwen says in response. “Whoever thought talking would be hard? It’s as if I don’t want to risk that little breath of heat leaving my body.”
“And yet you’re still speaking.”
“I do it for you, Kearan.”
“Lucky me. How do you feel, Captain?” Kearan asks.
“Cold.” The question is stupid, so I give a stupid answer.
“That all? You know you can tell us if there’s anything else.”
Enwen blows heat into his glove-covered hands. “Yeah, Captain. Kearan’s a good listener. He can go hours without saying a single word.”
Dimella is a little ball of furs beside us, but she perks up at those words. “That’s because he’s probably fallen asleep, Enwen.”
Enwen looks at me out of the corner of his eye while shushing Dimella.
“Don’t you shush me.”
“Sorry, Miss Dimella, but I’m trying to encourage a conversation here, and you’re ruining it.”
“I don’t follow.”
Enwen mouths the words epic romance to Dimella, but she doesn’t catch them. I immediately look at Kearan and relax when I realize he’s not paying a wink of attention to Enwen.
“Miss Dimella, why don’t you come show me the starboard side of the ship?” Enwen asks.
“What?”
“I think we should leave the aftercastle and go on a stroll.”
“Why?”
“You’re useless,” Enwen says to her before storming off. “Excuse me? Sailor, you get back here.”
She takes off after him to give him a tongue-lashing, but it doesn’t matter. Enwen’s plan worked, and I’m now left alone at the helm with Kearan.
“I’ve been saying it for years,” Kearan says. “Enwen is mad.”
“You’re not much better. How are you feeling, Captain? ”
“It’s your first time captaining a ship. You’ve lost four sailors. You should talk to somebody about it.”
“I did. I wrote Alosa and told her all about it.”
“And what did Alosa say?”
“None of your business.”
Kearan grunts. “Did she tell you not to blame yourself? Or did she assume you’re unaffected because that’s how you always act?”
I say nothing.
“So she did assume you were fine. Then let me tell you not to blame yourself. It’s not your fault. Don’t focus on the four souls you lost. Think of the twenty-five you saved.”
“Why don’t you keep your thoughts on yourself? Better yet, keep them to yourself.”
“You look out for everyone on the ship. Someone needs to look out for you.”
“I don’t need looking out for. I’m a damned pirate assassin, Kearan. The only looking out you need to do is for the knife at your throat when you finally piss me off enough.”
He grins. Grins . And says nothing more.
This is why you can’t let them know they get to you. They smile at your expense. My hand goes for my closest knife.
“I care,” Kearan says. “I want to know how you’re doing. I want to know how I can help. We’ve been through some things together. Storms and broken masts and fights against the pirate king. That doesn’t leave anyone unaffected. I just want you to know that you’re incredible, and I want you to be okay.”
My clenched fingers release the knife as sense finally slams back into me.
“Stop trying to flatter me!”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Just because I’m telling the truth doesn’t mean I have an angle. I’m not trying to get anything from you.”
Except he is.
Because men always are.
“Then stop talking. Because your words are purposeless.”
I see his mind turn as he tries to work an argument around that one, but a call interrupts us.
“Land ho!”
When I join Roslyn up in the crow’s nest, I think all she’s spotted is another iceberg at first. It’s much larger than the others, for sure. I can’t even see the edges on the sea, but as we draw closer, I begin to spot other things.
Green. There’s vegetation, and with vegetation comes life.
The little lass has eyes sharper than a hawk’s.
I put the spyglass to my eye, making out the shapes of trees and mountains and snow-covered terrain, but there’s not anything terribly exciting to see on land.
The water surrounding it, however, is another matter.
Dead ahead, I see a bowsprit jutting into the air. To its right, a hull rests at an angle, the structure tottering with the incoming tide. A sail billows atop a broken mast, an unfamiliar flag streaming in the wind. Shattered planks float on the waves, and downy white birds sit atop some of them. A coil of rope has become entwined with seaweed, the brown mass floating alongside a frozen body facedown in the water. Who knows how long he’s been dead? The cold keeps everything perfectly preserved.
The island is completely surrounded by ship wreckage. I can’t look in any direction without seeing it.
We’ve surely found where Alosa’s women went missing.
But right now I’m more concerned with what caused all of this.
I climb down the mast, where Dimella and the rest of the crew wait patiently.
“It’s a ship graveyard out there,” I say, forgetting to be tactful until after the words are out of my mouth.
Enwen clutches his beads to his chest, and my gun master climbs the mast without another word.
“Is the Wanderer among the wreckage?” Dimella asks.
“We’re too far to tell.”
“We’re going closer?” Enwen asks with alarm.
Kearan puts a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “Find your mettle, man.”
“We’re going to circle the island without getting too close,” I say. “We need proof that the Wanderer docked here before we go ashore.”
“A lot of ships permanently docked here, Captain,” Dimella says. “What do you think got ’em?”
“Cannons,” Philoria says when she returns to the deck. “Definitely cannon debris. I’d stake my life on it. Nothing else tears apart masts like that.”
“No more beasties, then?” Enwen asks.
“Not this time.”
“Someone doesn’t want anyone going ashore,” I deduce.
“For what purpose?” Dimella asks. “Not like it’s a prime vacation spot or anything.”
“There must be something valuable here,” Kearan says. “Gold or other precious metals.”
“Gold, you say?” Enwen perks up.
“Take us closer, Kearan,” I say. “I want a better look at that debris.”
He does so, but it’s not easy. For hours, he maneuvers us around blocks of ice and ship debris. But we eventually find what we’re looking for.
I see the letters Wan painted on the side of one of the wrecked ships. The rest of the letters disappear into the water. Alosa’s missing vessel is here. Just from what I can see in either direction, there is enough wreckage for at least nine full ships. And the destruction continues as far as the eye can see. Surely there’s even more surrounding the whole island.
“Dimella, I want to go ashore alone,” I say to my first mate. “Have the crew lower a rowboat for me.”
Dimella narrows her eyes. “Captain, I know you mean to put no one in danger but yourself, but if anything should happen to you, then you’ll leave the crew without their leadership. It isn’t wise for you to go anywhere alone. Please consider taking a scouting party with you if you intend to go exploring. Alosa has chosen some fine girls for this voyage.”
“I’ll go with you,” Kearan offers immediately.
“And me,” Enwen says.
We all stare at him.
“Kearan mentioned gold. Perhaps I could keep an eye out for it while we’re out and about.” He shrugs.
I think it over, weighing all my options, and ask myself for the hundredth time what Alosa would do.
“I’ll take half the crew ashore,” I decide. “Should anything happen to us, you’ll still have enough sailors to make the trip back home.”
“I’ll guard the ship with my life,” Dimella says.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I say. “A ship is only a thing. You protect the rest of the crew.”
She grins. “Well, I’d at least try to save the ship. The crew was a given, Captain. Who will you take ashore?”
“These two,” I say, gesturing to the men beside me. “Taydyn, Philoria, Bayla, and Visylla.” I list a handful more names.
“What about me?” The small voice comes from somewhere nearby, yet it isn’t until Roslyn’s head pokes over the companionway that I realize she was spying.
Sneaky little thing, indeed.
“You’re the ship’s lookout,” I say. “You need to be on the ship to keep a lookout. That’s the most important job right now.”
She scrunches up her face, as though trying to decide if I’m being sincere or just tricking her into staying. The answer is both, but she seems placated for now.
“I’ll have the boats lowered,” Dimella says, and she sees to it.
I make a stop at my quarters, grabbing as many weapons as will fit into my clothing. Knives in both boots. Knives inside my coat. Knives at my waist. I lose count somewhere after twelve. I take extra pistols, slinging them through a holster over one shoulder. Normally I prefer quiet weapons, but if we’re ambushed, stealth will cease to matter.
I grab my old rapier and bring it out on deck with me. When I spot Roslyn at the port side staring off at the island, I approach her.
She turns, and her eyes go straight to what I’m carrying. I hold it out to her.
She takes the rapier and unsheathes it, holding it up to the sky.
“We’ll work on form and stance later, but for now, you should have a weapon with a longer reach in case anything bad happens.”
“You’re giving me your old sword?”
I nod. “You’ll have to ask Dimella if she has a spare belt for you. You’ll likely have to cinch it high so the sheath doesn’t drag.”
I can’t tell if she hears me or not. She’s swinging the rapier in unpracticed arcs, lunging at invisible foes.
“I’ll take it away if you injure yourself or anyone in the crew with it,” I say.
She turns a glower on me. “I would never . I haven’t done so with my dagger, and I’m not about to with my new sword. Thank you, Sorinda!”
She tries to run at me with the sword. Then remembers to turn the blade downward before grabbing me in a hug.
“Keep a sharp lookout,” I tell her.
“I always do.”
She’s staring at the weapon when I turn from her, approaching the party that’s gathered near the lowered rowboats.
Enwen squints out at the land. “I don’t see any sort of settlement. No one could survive in this temperature long without shelter.”
“Someone sank all these ships,” Kearan responds. “Maybe they’re hiding in the woods.”
“What if what lives out here isn’t human?”
“We’ll soon find out.”
Enwen tucks his beads into his coat.
I don’t say a word as I climb down into the nearest rowboat. Those chosen to go ashore follow quickly. We fit snugly into three boats and start the trip for shore.
Kearan rows in my boat, and I watch the land grow closer from over the top of his head. I get an eerie feeling as we drift farther from Vengeance and the rest of the crew, but I can’t quite place it. I’m not afraid. I don’t think anything is going to jump out at us the second we reach shore. Besides, we’ll be able to take cover in the trees shortly after docking.
Yet I feel as though I’m forgetting something. Or as if my subconscious is recognizing some danger that my brain can’t quite place. But it has nothing to do with the land we’re approaching.
I turn in my seat to look over my shoulder. Vengeance is anchored far enough out that she’ll have plenty of warning if an attack comes from the shore. Then I look to my right and left, taking special notice of the shapes jutting out of the water. Now that we’re close to shore, I can see them all the more clearly. From the ocean, the land appears to curve with hills of snow and cliffs of ice. But from this angle, I can see that the solid block of ice to our left is hollow . The water within only had the appearance of solid ice. It’s actually an enormous water cave. Some trick of the light?
Whatever the case, I feel my heart sink toward the icy depths beneath me as I peer into that dark crevice. My eyes focus on the darkness, trying to make out any movement within.
And then I see it: a line of shadow more potent than the others. The shape of a bowsprit.
“Turn the boats around!” I shout. “Now!”
The order is followed immediately, despite Kearan facing the ship and having no reason to listen.
“What is it?” Enwen asks from the next boat over.
“Row faster,” I order.
And then we hear shouting. Roslyn yells something from atop the crow’s nest. Dimella barks out orders in return. Bodies scramble atop the deck of Vengeance .
I return my eyes to the left, and sure enough, a ship unlike any I’ve ever seen emerges from the ice.
The hull is pale white, the sails dark gray. Many of them are ripped and tattered, streaming uselessly in the sparse breeze. It doesn’t matter, because the mainsail is enormous and intact, and the sweeps carry it plenty fast. It approaches the bow of Vengeance , out of our cannon sights, which are only located at the starboard and port sides.
It is easily twice the size of our own ship, with two extra decks, and a massive forecastle.
A galleon big enough to do some serious damage.
The bows of the two ships face each other. One anchored, the other closing in fast.
As we try to race the new vessel to the ship, I force my tense shoulders to relax. The enemy ship will need time to get within range. Then they’ll need to turn and line up their cannons just so. They have more control with those sweeps, but we might have chance to reach Vengeance in time.
And then I hear a cannon fire. Confusion settles within me until I see smoke billowing just below the bowsprit of the enemy ship.
Fore cannons.
Shit.
The first shot misses, but the second lodges into the hull of Vengeance . I hear the anchor of my ship slowly cranking, as Dimella must be trying to get the crew to weigh fast enough to turn the ship so we can face it with our own cannons.
“Come on, come on, come on!” Philoria shouts beside me. Her fingers twitch, and I’m sure she’s just aching to get behind a cannon and return fire.
We’ve still a ways to go.
“Scoot to the left,” I order Kearan. He moves over, allowing me to take the right oar and help him row. He was doing just fine on his own, but I need to do something before I go mad with anticipation.
I hear more cannon fire. Water splashes as missed shots connect with the sea. Wood shatters as another cannon hits its target. I’m at my limit, rowing as fast as I possibly can, and it’s still not enough.
Stupid. So stupid. I should have seen the enemy’s hiding spot sooner.
Another blast of cannon fire has my heart pumping at impossible speeds. It’s followed by an earsplitting crash and the creak of wood. I look over my shoulder, already knowing what I’ll see.
They hit the foremast, and it falls to one side, ropes snapping, and sails tearing.
Some sound escapes me. A throaty shriek of frustration.
And then we’re finally there.
I fly up the rope ladder, land on the deck, and survey the crew. Four girls are at the capstan, trying to get the anchor raised. Meanwhile, Dimella is at the helm, cranking it for the turn that will finally get our cannons in range. Radita is nowhere in sight, likely already below seeing to the damage.
Girls race to prepare the cannons. The anchor finally comes free of the water. The enemy ship is almost lined up with our cannons.
I try to make out figures on the enemy ship, but all I see are heavy coats and gear, just like we wear, though in different colors and styles. And whoever wears them is definitely human, not that I really took Enwen’s fears into consideration.
“Return fire!” I shout.
Philoria sets the first cannon off, and it just barely skims the ship, as it’s not quite lined up with the cannon’s sight. Visylla’s shot goes wide, but Bayla’s strikes true. She takes out one of the enemy’s cannons at the fore, striking right through the gunport and destroying both the weapon and whoever was manning it.
There’s a small cheer on our side as we see the enemy scrabble out of the way and take longer to reload their weapons for the next bout.
But when it comes, it comes hard. Their cannons go off in rapid succession. There are still at least three at the fore, and Vengeance jolts from the hits she takes.
There’s a breathless, silent moment as both sides refill their cannons before firing once more. The ship finally comes within musket distance, though just barely. Shots ring out on our side, and crossbow bolts and gunshots answer from the enemy.
Another cannon hits us low, and the sound of rushing water is all I can hear for a moment.
Until another shattering boom sounds, and a cannonball streaks to us, skimming too high to hit the ship, dodging the mast.
It hits Bayla square in the chest and carries her off the ship.
She’s dead before she even hits the water.
I stare at the spot where she disappeared in stunned silence.
Radita is shrieking at me from below, and I barely make out her words.
I don’t want to believe what is happening. I want to go back in time, retrace my steps in such a way as to save the four—five now—we’ve lost on this journey.
I would have attacked the beastie the first time we saw bubbles in the water. I would never have left the ship to explore the shore until I was certain the crew I was leaving behind was safe.
But it’s too late for any of that, and regret will not save the souls who remain within my care. The truth strikes my heart like a physical blow.
We’re not going to win this fight.
Perhaps if we’d had the whole crew on deck. If we hadn’t anchored. If we’d had our weapons ready.
But it didn’t happen that way, and I know we’ve already lost.
“Dimella!” I shout. “Get the rest of the rowboats lowered. Now! Jadine!” I find the head cook somewhere in the bedlam, loading a musket for another shot.
“Captain?”
“Get as much food as you possibly can loaded into the boats.”
“We’re abandoning ship?”
“Preparing for the worst. Now go!”
Philoria gets her cannon reloaded and takes another shot. It strikes true, but the behemoth doesn’t slow.
I go belowdecks and call for Radita.
“Forget about patching the holes,” I tell her. “Have your workers haul up what supplies they can from the hold before it’s all below water. Anything we might need to survive on land.”
“Aye-aye.”
I return up top. Girls are firing muskets at the approaching ship, but the enemy’s volley is three times as large as ours, and my crew constantly has to duck out of sight to avoid being shot themselves.
The enemy vessel puts another hole in us. All three of our shots make contact with the ship now, but we can’t spread out the holes to do the most damage with just the fore pointed at us.
“Philoria,” I bark out. “Slow that ship down.”
She wipes unshed tears from her eyes as she lines up her next shot. “Aye-aye.”
The next few blasts aim higher, and one finally clips a mast, slowing the approaching vessel.
“Keep firing!” I order, and then I help the girls below. We bring up food, cooking supplies, tents, blankets, tarps, and anything else that might be necessary to survive on land. Meanwhile, the ship shatters and splinters around us. When I’m back up top, I can see our yano bird in the distance, fleeing the destruction. Someone had the sense to let it free. It’ll return to Alosa without a note.
“Everyone into the boats! Now!” My crew scrambles to the side of the ship, everyone squeezing onto the rowboats. Some girls even sit on each other’s laps to make room. Roslyn lands on the deck after climbing down the mainmast.
“There’s some movement on land, Captain,” she says, “but they’re too far away for me to make out anything.”
“Do you think you can steer us away from them once we reach shore?”
She nods.
“Good work. Get in.”
Philoria gets off one final shot, and Vengeance lists to one side, the water finally overcoming her.
“Let’s go!” I shout to her.
She races for the boats, the last of the crew, and nigh jumps into the waiting boat below. Only then do I sit myself and order the rowers to take us ashore.
More and more cannons fire upon Vengeance as we flee. When the enemy ship is close enough to take notice of the little rowboats in the water, it turns, lining those fore cannons up with us.
But the shots go wide. We’re too small of targets, and the fore cannons don’t have as much range of motion. Our boats hit the frozen shore, and we pull them onto land. Everyone grabs something to carry from the supplies we managed to bring with us, and we run.
I’ve got one hand clasped around Roslyn’s, the other around a pack of food. The terrain is rough, full of rocks and slick snow. It’s far too easy to slip, and many of us go down as we hurry. Roslyn takes me down once as she falls, but we quickly right ourselves and continue. A cannon shot sends a patch of snow flying into the air and then raining down upon us.
“Blast all this snow!” Dimella says as she rights herself after a fall.
Roslyn points to the right, indicating a patch of woods. “The movement came from there. We should go another way.”
I veer the crew to the left, and we run and run and run until we can’t run anymore. Until the cannon fire is just a small thrumming in the distance. Until the wreckage of Vengeance is entirely out of sight.
Until there is no visible reminder of my failure.
Just the pain and shame I carry within my chest.