Chapter 25
H ook pounded toward the dining hall, each footfall booming like thunder, his anger thickening the air like a thundercloud.
“It’s like you get a kick out of wasting my time,” he snapped, his gaze fixed on Garth from the moment he entered the room.
“Ebonfall is only a few days away. We have no time to bring you home and still have a shot of making it in and out of The Fen before then.” He tensed, then unclenched his fist, turning away in disgust. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?
Part of your plot so you’d force my hand. Old fool.”
Garth stared down, unwilling to meet his eyes as he took another swig from his mug of water—the first he’d had in the full day since we’d left town because he’d been in such a hurry to catch us, he’d not taken any supplies with him.
“I’m as fit as I’ve ever been. I’m not gonna slow you down.” Even his usual grumbling had no fire in it. He sounded more ashamed than anything.
I’d taken him down below to recover from the heat exhaustion, and had been dreading Hook’s arrival since the cook had gone up to fill him in a few minutes earlier.
“You won’t get the chance to slow us down,” Hook growled.
“We’re dropping you off on the way. We’ll have to veer a few kilometers off course, but it’s doable.
You’ll stay at Tilly’s Inn until we get you on the way back.
Assuming you don’t die of the shits or catch the rot while you’re there, that is.
Tilly is a terrible cook and an even worse housekeeper. ”
“Bah.” Garth spun sideways, waving a dismissive hand. “Can’t be more depressing than having to stare at your ungrateful mug days on end.”
I held back a gasp, my gaze flitting between the two of them. I’d never seen anyone dare to speak to Hook that way—barring Davy, who’d talked his way into an early grave.
Hook’s face went ruddy with anger but rather than exploding as I’d expected, he let out a mirthless laugh. “I’ve got enough on my plate without having a useless old man to babysit.”
Garth’s face fell. “Ah, fuck off, will you?” But his heart wasn’t in it.
Hook’s comment had clearly stung. Rather than apologizing, Hook did shockingly, exactly as Garth asked, storming out of the dining hall, fury radiating out of him like a hot forge, the door rattling on its hinges as he slammed it behind him.
Rage from Hook. Embarrassment from Garth. Because he was an old man. And we all knew it. But to be reminded of it…that was a low blow.
I had to jam my lips shut as a flash of anger of my own surged up to match it.
It’s none of your business, Harm.
But that was a hard pill to swallow when I could still picture the sick look on my father’s face when Druzilla dared to say something this hurtful. There was little worse you could say to a man Garth’s age.
“That went sideways fast, didn’t it?” I murmured, trying to break the awkward silence but regretting it as soon as the words left my mouth.
Garth got up from his seat without replying, hobbling right past the cook’s counter to grab a bottle of rum from the cabinet. He tore it open with his teeth and a grunt, throwing back a gulp of the stuff straight from the bottle.
My vision blurred as I careened sideways, ears ringing from the tooth-clattering rumble that rolled through the ship as it pitched hard—someone angry was steering apparently.
Three guesses who, and the first doesn’t count.
I managed to catch a piece of the countertop to keep myself upright as I looked around frantically, finding no sign of Garth.
Where the hell did the old man go?
And then I spotted him. He was on the ground, his back pressed up against the wall.
“Are you okay?” I called, my heart thumping as I scrambled over toward him.
“Someone really needs to teach the bastard to steer a ship,” he groaned, sending a flood of relief rolling through me. “Damn near killed me, he did. Maybe that was what he was going for—quicker than dropping me off at Tilly’s.”
“Stay on the floor in case that happens again.” I ignored his groans of protest as I pulled his head away from the wall. “Are you hurt? Did you hit your?—”
A deafening ringing split the air, the vibrations physically shaking the deck. Garth’s eyes went wide, and he reached to his waist for a sword that wasn’t there.
“That’s the alarm! We’re under attack!”
“Stay here.” I sucked in a frantic breath. “Keep low, I’ll be right back.”
And, for once, he had no smart comment to make in response. He just dipped his head in a curt nod of agreement. “You should stay here, too. You’ll get yourself killed out there, lass.”
“Just stay put.” Magic buzzed within me, and I let it come bubbling to the surface, as I strode away not waiting for a reply.
I pushed through the door, taking quick stock of the situation. Barrels and crates lay strewn around the deck by the dozen, and footsteps and shouts sounded from all around, mostly above.
I dashed up the stairs and toward the front of the ship, reaching for my connection with Fetch at the same time. He flew just overhead, barely keeping pace with the ship as he watched something in front of the bow.
“Whirlpool!” Xander shouted, the word striking my ear the moment I saw the thing, pulling us in from just a few thousand feet away. And we were headed right toward it, having twisted off course from the suction.
I reached for my magic, not even sure what I planned on doing with it, but a gruff shout broke me out of it.
“To your stations!” Hook dashed past me, hardly breaking stride even as the ship began to tremble and rock. “Harmony, get below with Molly,” he called, unable to spare even a glance over his shoulder as he heaved mightily on the wheel, struggling against Mother Nature herself.
I wove my arm through the railing, ignoring him as I gathered my strength. Whatever this whirlpool was, the magic at its core was palpable, oozing off it with each passing second. Had Pan and Tink really gone this far? Had they done this?
A spike of pain shot through me at the thought, and I tore my loupe from my pocket, pressing it to my eye as I stared onward. No, not Pan or Tink , I corrected, sucking in a breath. It was far, far worse.
A twisting void of midnight black lay at the heart of the whirlpool, sucking in a lake’s worth of water with each passing second and driving all of this. The wind whipped up around us, whooshing right into my back as we tried desperately to change course.
Whoever was causing all this, they were not of this world. And they were doing everything in their power to drag us to a watery grave.
Almira? Was it possible this whirlpool was her doing?
I gritted my teeth against my raging headache, forcing my magic to the surface as Hook barked orders at various members of the crew. If I could just channel that same surge of power I’d managed when crash landing Pan’s little boat, then maybe?—
I pulled free of my body, my awareness sinking into the ship itself. But, this time, I could sense no way out. I ran through a dozen options, from using the anchor to turning the sails, each idea seeming less promising than the last.
Is this where our story ends?
Hook roared wildly as he threw his weight into the wheel once again. “Tom,” he yelled through gritted teeth, “loosen that sail! And Xander, toss the anchor over our port bow. We’re gonna spin this thing.”
A way out I hadn’t considered? I didn’t see it, but I leapt at the opportunity nonetheless, doing both in unison before the crewmates had even begun to move.
The ship lurched sideways, groaning once again, and I sent my energy to the wheel, lending Hook as much strength as I could muster and praying that the rudder didn’t give out.
Just a little longer…
“Get ready, lads!” The wind seemed to pick up even further as we whipped around, somehow spinning to face directly away from the whirlpool. Hook yanked the wheel the other direction, keeping us steady for the time being as the wind gusted, pressing into the wrong side of our sail.
It was an impressive maneuver, sure, but what good did it do us?
The question didn’t linger long, as a new source of wind slammed into the sail on the other side, seemingly out of nowhere. My heart skipped a beat, and I cursed as the lapse in concentration sent my awareness flying back into my body.
I blinked through a mist of salt water, barely able to make out Hook, standing at the wheel with one arm raised in the air.
Magical power surged from his fingertips, clearly visible through my jeweler’s loupe, and gathered right behind our sail, blasting us forward as quickly as the whirlpool could pull us back. No, faster than it could pull us back.
We slid gently over the next wave, moving in what felt like slow motion, but picked up speed before we reached the one after that.
I gripped the railing tight, staring over the side and staring at the whirlpool behind us, blinking in case my eyes were deceiving me, then breathed out, what felt like for the first time since I’d seen the dark swirling water.
“Fucking hell, Cap,” Tom said, whooping. “I always knew you were crazy, but this takes it to a whole new level.”
Hook grunted in answer, sending up a final blast of magic before slumping over the wheel. He forced himself up a half second later, waving for Tom. “The danger has passed. Come take the helm, and make sure we take a wide berth around the whirlpool.”
The captain’s eyes fixed on me, and he strode in my direction as Tom relieved him. “That magic of yours is something. I felt it working in tandem with what I was doing.”
“A compliment?” I asked, in a tone of mock surprise. “That’s new.”
He shrugged, lips twitching in something that could’ve been the start of a smile. “Don’t get used to it.”
If my magic was ‘something’, then what did that make his? He’d pushed a whole damn ship out of a magic whirlpool that’d been ripped into the sea by someone on a higher plane of reality.