Jade
As the passage descends, the air becomes warm and heavy, with the unmistakable smell of salt.
“We’re close,” Logan confirms what my nose already told me.
He stops in front of an ancient door, the iron green with age. When he presses his palm to the center, the door shimmers out of existence, and the sight that greets us makes me forget how to breathe.
We’re standing at the edge of a cavern so massive it shouldn’t exist. The ceiling disappears into darkness hundreds of feet above us, and the walls curve outward like the inside of a giant’s skull.
Water fills most of the space, dark and still, reflecting a glow of tiny bioluminescent sea creatures clinging to the rock.
And the boats. Gods, the boats. They bob on the underground lake, tethered to stone docks that jut out from the cavern walls.
If boats could talk, I’d apologize to them for having such little faith in them.
There’s an entire fleet, ranging from rowboats to larger vessels with masts and furled sails.
The larger ones aren’t even boats. They’re ships, with carved railings, multiple masts, and hulls big enough to have rooms below deck.
The wood gleams like it was sealed last week, the sails are pristine, and the whole fleet looks ready to launch at a moment’s notice.
I want to grab Logan by the shirt and ask him why he let me spiral about tiny sinkable death traps when he had an entire hidden navy down here.
We’ll have time for that later. Because right now, my gaze travels to the far end of the cavern, where a curtain of water cascades down from above. It shimmers with an otherworldly light, and through its translucent veil, I can make out the gray expanse of open ocean beyond.
“Holy shit,” I breathe.
“That about covers it.” Logan’s mouth quirks, his eyes still scanning the cavern.
Then, movement near one of the larger ships catches my attention as someone walks around after examining them from the other side.
Evie stops on the dock the moment she sees me, crossing her arms. Kieran looms beside her like a terrifying shadow, his hand resting on the hilt of the dagger at his hip.
Much to my non-pleasure, Callie’s with them. Her complexion is waxy and pale, dark circles bruising the skin beneath her eyes. She’s leaning against a wooden post like it’s the only thing keeping her upright.
“Why are you helping me?” I ask her, ignoring all pleasantries. “We’re not exactly friends.”
“You saved me and Alessandra during the hellhound attack,” she says, sounding as confident as ever despite looking like she might topple into the water at any second.
“Besides, Logan asked me to come, and I’m not letting a person I care about journey through monster-infested waters without someone who actually knows how to sail. ”
The look she gives him when she says care about makes my chest tighten.
I file that away under “things to deal with later” and turn to Evie instead.
My roommate’s amber eyes are set hard, one pencil looking like it’s about to fall out of her messy bun.
“Hey.” I close the distance between us, suddenly unsure what to say. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the lightning.”
Evie adjusts the unsecured pencil. “We’ll talk about that later. Right now, I just want to steal one of these boats as fast as we can and head out so we can find Oliver.”
She turns back to the ships, and Kieran falls into step beside her, close enough that his arm almost brushes her shoulder.
Interesting. Very interesting. Although after the tension between them in the Fury Loop a few weeks ago, I’m not entirely surprised.
The vessel we choose is one of the largest in the cave, big enough that it has four small rooms below deck.
It’s beautiful in the same impossibly preserved way as the rest of the fleet, with carved wood that gleams like it was oiled yesterday, woven rope that should have rotted centuries ago but holds firm in my grip, and sails that unfurl without a single tear or thin spot.
It’s like a piece of history was stolen from time and dropped into the cave.
“The founders infused these with old magic,” Evie explains, running her hand along the railing with the devotion she usually reserves for rare textbooks.
“According to A Survey of Permanent Enchantments on Blaze Academy Grounds, they were built as emergency evacuation vessels, designed for a skeleton crew. The magic keeps them intact, but the sailing part is on us.”
Callie runs her hands along the helm, testing the wheel with a half-turn. “Whoever built this knew what they were doing. The balance is perfect.”
“The preservation magic extends to the mechanical components.” Evie kneels and examines a joint in the railing. “Everything’s suspended at peak condition. It’s remarkable craftsmanship.”
“Remarkable is one word for it.” Callie’s eyes light up as she continues admiring the wheel. “She’s a dream.”
I look back and forth between the two of them in confusion. Since when do Callie and Evie have common ground? And since when is that common ground a thousand-year-old magically preserved ship in a bioluminescent cave?
I don’t have time to think about it further, because Callie snaps into captain mode like she was born for it.
“Kieran and Evie, untie the mooring lines. Logan, help me with the rigging. Jade… stay out of the way.”
I press my lips together, unable to argue with her. My sailing experience is limited to sunbathing on my family’s yacht while the crew did the actual work, and a summer camp in Maine where I learned to sail a dinghy that held three people and capsized twice.
Kieran slices through what I assume are the mooring lines, Evie coils the loose rope, and Logan and Callie work the rigging with an efficiency that makes it clear they’ve both spent real time on the water.
They move around each other without speaking, anticipating the other’s next step, and electricity crackles between my fingers at how seamless they look together.
Eventually, the sails catch a draft circulating through the cavern, and the ship glides away from the dock without a sound.
“Everyone hold on to something.” Callie flips her hair over her shoulder, looks at the sheet of water that makes up the exit, and smiles.
I tighten my grip on a rope. Kieran and Evie take positions near the bow. Logan stands beside me, one hand on the forward mast, his body angled so anything coming at us hits him first.
The waterfall looms ahead, shimmering with otherworldly light. Through its curtain, the gray sky waits beyond, along with the open sea and everything that lives in it.
“Here we go,” Callie calls out from the wheel, and the ship plunges through.
Water crashes over us, cold and sharp. I gasp, tightening my grip on the rope as the world becomes churning chaos, and for one horrible moment I’m sure we’re going to capsize and drown before we make it out of the cave.
Then, we’re through.
The ship rocks violently before settling, and I open my eyes to find us floating on open water. The cave mouth is already receding behind us, hidden by the rocky cliffs, and we’re shrouded in a thick fog that will definitely conceal us from anyone who might be watching from the island.
The water’s as smooth as glass, barely rippling as our ship cuts through it. The sky stretches above us in a uniform gray, with no clouds, no sun, and no horizon line where ocean meets atmosphere. It’s like we’ve sailed off the edge of the world and into nothing.
“Is it supposed to be this quiet?” Evie asks, barely above a whisper.
“No.” Kieran’s hand tightens around the hilt of his dagger. “It’s not.”
No one speaks after that. Because this calm isn’t peaceful.
It’s the silence of a predator waiting to kill.