Chapter 7
T hree days.
It took three more gut-wrenching days of feigning friendship, making memories, and gaining trust before I found my moment.
Pan and Tink had flown off the island to check out a new orphanage that was opening in Covington and didn’t plan to return until well after nightfall.
The kids were busy doing chores when Moll and I had managed to slip off without being noticed.
Despite rationalizing what we’d done with pep talks to both myself and Moll about “the greater good” and destiny, I still felt sick.
Moll hadn’t made it any easier, fretting about the children, wondering who was going to tell Caleb stories at night once she was gone, and how sad Tristan would be without Fetch, who had become his little sidekick for at least a few hours of each day.
But all that had been a mere smattering of precipitation compared to the shitstorm we were in right now.
Jolts of pain shot through my fingers as I latched onto the mast like a vise, sucking in a breath as we approached another massive wave.
“Hold on!” I shouted, a half second before impact.
Water sprayed up in a mist as we smashed directly through it, the impact rattling me down to my bones. I slammed my eyes shut, wincing as the icy water rained down on us from above, covering my already-soaked shirt.
“You okay?” I shouted, a burst of relief rolling through me as I caught sight of Moll.
She let out a groan of frustration, dropping butt-first onto the ship’s deck. “How much further?”
I glanced forward, flipping the long-distance lens of my loupe into place. My teeth dug into my cheek as the distant land mass came into view, and I cursed myself inwardly for the surge of conscience that’d led me to take the crappier of the two boats, despite Moll’s protest.
“If we’re going to steal, we might as well steal the nicer one.”
“An hour or so, tops .” I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt. Sunset wasn’t far off, and it would cause serious issues if it grew dark before we found a place to dock.
I’d once spent a day rafting down the creek behind Old Cletus’s hut before he’d caught me, but that was where my boating experience ended.
The ocean had seemed a million miles away in Alabaster, not something anyone expected to actually see, never mind sail across.
The truth was, I was going entirely off vibes.
Not ideal.
“I think I’m going to—” Moll’s hand shot up to cover her mouth before she could finish that sentence, and she yanked herself up by the railing, retching over the side of the rocking sailboat.
I pocketed my loupe and strode over to her, setting a hand on her shoulder as she dry-heaved in misery.
Fetch screeched overhead, and the boat began to tilt and sway even more violently, sending plumes of water splashing into my face.
“Hold on!” A terrible crack split the air before I could take my own advice.
Well that can’t be good.
The boat lurched sideways, and the world spun around me as I fell to the deck, flailing desperately for something to hold onto. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, and darkness was creeping in from the edges of my vision as I finally caught hold of something.
Keep it together, Harm. You can do this.
The boat whipped sideways once again, throwing me like a ragdoll.
But this time, I was ready. I held on with everything I had, my fingernails digging into the wooden railing.
I shot to my feet the moment I was able, half-running and half-leaping toward the boat’s wheel, which had been spinning wildly, out of control.
My heart sank as I grabbed hold of it. It was loose, moving at the slightest tug of my hands. The rudder wasn’t just damaged or out of line. It was completely destroyed, and another massive wave was approaching fast.
Moll shouted something from behind me, but the dozen thoughts running through my head at once drowned out her voice.
How far was the closest island?
Did the monsters of The Fen come out at specific times, like Noru, or were they lurking below us, even now?
Were we about to die?
A flash of feathers to my right pulled me back to reality, and I sucked in a deep breath as Fetch’s talons sunk into my shoulder pad. No, we weren’t going out like this. Not if I had anything to say about it.
My temples thrummed, half tingling and half pain, as I stared into the oncoming wave. It was only seconds away, but the time seemed to stretch on for an eternity. A wave of energy rolled through me, spreading from my head to the tips of my fingers, and then into the boat’s wheel.
A deep calm settled over me as a mental blueprint of the vessel appeared in my mind, as familiar as my own body—maybe even more-so. From the squeaky plank at the very back to the specific knots that’d been used to secure the mast, there was nothing I couldn’t see.
Nothing I couldn’t do .
I loosened the sail with a thought, repositioning it ever so slightly. I gauged the angle of the wind, feeling the way it pressed up against the cloth the same way I could’ve felt it on my own skin.
Just a little bit more…There.
Our angle was correct, now, taking us toward the nearest island, but it still wasn’t enough.
Even with that adjustment, each wave was still going to throw us wildly off course if we were sailing completely rudderless.
I let my awareness slip down from the mast, refocusing on the ship’s rear.
It would’ve been suicide in a normal situation, but…
I sent my energy surging down the rope and into the anchor, vaguely hearing a distant yelp from Moll as I pushed it overboard with my magic.
It dropped into the water with a thunk, but I kept my focus on it as I stared down at the wave that was just about to reach us.
I used my magic to tug the anchor gently from side to side, somehow certain of exactly where it needed to be to keep us on course.
I was doing it. I was actually fucking doing it.
This was far beyond anything I’d thought possible, and triumph bloomed in my chest as we rolled easily over the incoming wave, and then the next.
The small island grew closer with every passing second, and each wave was tamer than the last. The only challenge left was the landing.
We were going to make it. I could f?—
A spike of pain shot through my temples, so vicious it brought me to my knees. My instincts screamed for me to retreat from the boat and pull back into my own consciousness. It was only Moll’s voice that made me hold fast. It wouldn’t just be me who would die if I failed here.
“Harm?!” she called, unsteady footsteps audible from just behind me.
My teeth ground together, and I forced myself back to my feet.
“It’s okay, I’m all good,” I lied, my focus already shifting back to the task at hand.
The waves were hitting harder now, and I was barely able to see or think through the haze of agony. But this part didn’t have to be perfect. All I had to do was get us to shore in one piece.
Get to shore in one piece.
I repeated the mantra over and over in my head, shifting my awareness back and forth between anchor and sail. I wasn’t moving nearly as efficiently as before, and the tips of Fetch’s talons poked through the pad and into my shoulder as we hurtled the last few dozen feet toward the shore.
A little bit more ? —
Now!
I threw my awareness back into the anchor, forcing it down with all the magic I could muster.
The boat jerked wildly from side to side, thrashing like a bull with an unwanted rider, but I pressed on, trusting my gut.
The anchor sunk into the sand below, and the shuddering grew even worse until I turned the sail abruptly sideways.
We were only inches from the shore, and my teeth clacked as the wood of our hull skidded onto the sandy beach.
I released my hold over the boat, dropping to the deck in a trembling heap.
“Holy shit.” Moll appeared in front of me as we ground to a halt, her eyes so wide they looked ready to bulge out of her head. “How the heck did you manage that?”
“No clue.” I sucked in a deep breath, letting out a laugh of semi-hysterical relief.
“But that piece of shit boat barely held it together in the end there.” And there was zero chance it was sound enough to get us to The Weeping Fen.
Whoever we hired as our guide was going to have to have a ship of their own.
She cracked a half smile, both of us well aware we had barely dodged disaster, and giddy for our good fortune.
“So you’re saying this is a good time for an ‘I told you so’, then?”
“The perfect time.”