Chapter 22
In the time I had spent with my new ship’s boy, I’d learned Firoz had a vibrant imagination. Incredibly sharp eyes—he was
in the crow’s nest for a reason—but an unfortunate propensity to both overreact and put his foot in his mouth. He saw mermaids
in every dolphin and heard djinn in every breeze, a tendency I hoped would lessen with age and experience.
But I had a terrible premonition this was not one of his exaggerations.
I was at the mast the next moment. “What do you mean, ‘something’?”
“I-I do not know,” Firoz stammered, his wide eyes darting between my face and the southern horizon. “At first I thought it
might be a whale, but its color is strange and the way the water moves around it... it looks like it could be a ship, the
spray splashing out from a bow. But there’s no vessel; there’s nothing but a smudge of pink upon the horizon.”
What in God’s name? “Tinbu!”
“On it.” After Firoz, Tinbu had the clearest vision of anyone I knew and far better marine sense. He was climbing up before
Firoz had even left the crow’s nest, and I watched him ascend, shading his face to examine the horizon.
Tinbu frowned. “Whatever it is, it isn’t a ship—the shape would be visible above the surface and Firoz is right, all I can
discern is a pinkish dome. It’s moving pretty erratically, like an animal might. Like a very, very large animal might. But”—he stiffened—“it’s changed direction.”
I was halfway up the mast, fear of heights be damned. “ Meaning ?”
Tinbu glanced down with ill-concealed panic. “It’s coming toward us. Fast .”
Clutching the rope ladder, I peered into the southern distance. It was difficult to distinguish anything from the murky, soupy
sky that lay heavy upon the horizon. The sun was no longer visible, the smell of approaching rain thick in the air. But then— there , a rapidly enlarging speck at the center of a patch of rough surf.
I was not the only one to notice it. Some of my men had stopped what they were doing, pointing and talking excitedly amongst
each other. As if in warning, a swell swept under the Marawati , my ship rising and falling in a sea that had been calm only moments earlier. I held tight to the rope, swaying with its
movement as the yard creaked overhead, and then I quickly climbed down, jumping to the deck.
I nearly landed on Raksh. He had dashed over and now grabbed me by the shoulders. His face was pale, a ghostly blue hue flooding
his cheeks.
“Get rid of Dunya,” he hissed, his voice a low purr of warning. “ Now .”
I jerked back—or rather tried to; his grip on my arms was too strong. “What?”
“Throw her overboard,” he said even more urgently. “And do it quickly. We are being pursued.”
“Yes, I noticed that,” I said acidly, finally wrenching away. A misty rain began to patter against my skin. “Do you know what’s
chasing us?”
“Don’t you?” Raksh tapped my chest, the same place from where he’d yanked out the spectral stinger.
“Surely you don’t mean... Falco’s beast ?” I whispered, going cold all over when he nodded. And not only because I was frightened—but because the very air itself
had chilled. Clouds the color of molten iron were chasing across the sky from the direction of the approaching creature. The
Marawati began rolling on the increasingly choppy water, forcing me to steady my feet. “Are you certain?”
Raksh gave a grim look to the south. The creature had gone from a speck to a spot the size of an orange, an unfathomable speed.
“Yes. I warned you Falco would not let Dunya escape. Get rid of her, Amina. In the dunij, if that will ease your conscience, but do it now. Hopefully it will buy us time to flee.”
Dunya’s pleading face played before my eyes. The prospect of sacrificing her to some monstrous leviathan was reprehensible.
“I will not,” I said defiantly. “There must be something else we can do. What happened to you bringing me luck!”
“Do you have a spare oar I could use? Because while my presence might give you an edge of fortune, I suspect speed will be
more useful. A creature like that is beyond me.”
By God, if the demon was willing to row, we were in direr straits than I realized.
I thought fast. “Back in Socotra, you said Falco was a fool to try and control a creature like that. Do you think... there’s
a way to dissuade it? To convince the creature to give up the chase?”
Raksh licked his lips, looking fretful. “I don’t know. The marid are old, incomparably bizarre and tempestuous beasts. I have
met some that can be reasoned with, some that deal in bargains and pacts with mortals, but this one...” He shuddered. “It
was like a wild animal when we first encountered it. And Falco was not interested in a pact. He wanted to own it. The marid would probably gobble him up if it could.”
“So you’re telling me there’s a chance?”
“No, that’s not what I’m telling you at all! I’m telling you Falco’s magic defeated it.” My husband lowered his voice. “Amina, I warned you once that the Frank had powers beyond your comprehension. You did
not listen and nearly ended up his thrall. We are earthen creatures; there is nothing between us and a watery grave right
now except a few lashed-together logs. You cannot challenge Falco at sea, not while he possesses a creature of the ocean’s
domain.”
“What’s going on?” It was Dalila, her voice sharp. She was joined by Tinbu; Majed had rushed to the captain’s bench to secure the rahmani and his maps when a swell rocked the boat.
“Raksh wants to throw Dunya overboard,” I snarled under my breath. I wasn’t keeping secrets from my friends any longer, not
on Raksh’s behalf, but I spoke quietly, not wanting the rest of the crew to overhear. “Says it’s Falco’s beast pursuing us.”
Raksh looked imploringly at Dalila. “Your nakhudha is being a sentimental fool, but you’ve always had a clearer head. Dunya
is the one they want.”
“Then they will have to take her from us,” Dalila said firmly.
Another wave knocked across the Marawati , this one far more drenching.
I caught my balance and picked up a bucket, shoving it into Raksh’s arms. “Go make yourself useful,” I ordered, gesturing
to the men bailing water. When Raksh stomped off, I turned to Tinbu. “Speed up. We will try to flee.”
“It’s moving too quickly,” Tinbu said, sounding sick. The creature was now the size of a melon, but obscured by fog and its
own frothy, crashing wake, its exact shape could not be seen, like an amorphous ghost stalking forth. “We can’t outrun something
like that, Amina. Where would we even go?”
Tinbu had a point. We were nowhere near land, near the kinds of hidden creeks and mangrove swamps we typically disappeared
into while hunting prey. To be caught and forced to battle in the open ocean was an entirely different situation, one at which
my kind of ship did not excel. And that was against another vessel, not a sea monster. If we could last until the sun set,
we might be able to douse the lights and flee into the darkness. Had another ship caught us out, we would likely do just that.
But we were not facing another ship. We were being pursued by something beyond our understanding. A foul breeze blew from
the direction of the distant creature, the sea surrounding it churning with yellowed froth.
Majed had joined us and was silently listening, his expression grave. Now he spoke. “If we tack east there is a chance we’ll hit the monsoon current. It might take us wildly off course, but we could lose the creature.”
I doubted any monsoon current was strong enough to help us now but didn’t say so. “Then we try that,” I decided. “We run and
pray it gets bored or, more ideally, breaks free of Falco’s influence and eats him. Tinbu, I want your best men on the sails.
Firoz, make sure the deck is clear. Anything that cannot get tied down gets thrown overboard or stashed in the cargo hold.
Ideally thrown overboard. The rest of you to the oars!” I shouted and then cursed as Payasam darted between my legs, meowing
loudly and threading my ankles like a besotted drunk.
Dalila’s expression was steely. “I will check the remaining spheres of naft and put together more tubes of black powder for
arrows. But I have very little left.”
“Use what you have, but do me a favor.” I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “Stay near Dunya. I don’t trust Raksh not to
try and get rid of her himself.”
Dalila hefted her wooden staff. I doubted it could genuinely harm Raksh; we’d had no luck fighting him thus far, but Dalila
made for a fearsome sight and my husband was nothing if not a coward. “Understood.”
I picked up Payasam, who was still trying to trip me, and carried the little cat to the galley. Inside, Dunya was sitting
straight up on her cushion, clutching her tablets to her chest.
“Is something going on?” she asked, sounding frightened.
“Nothing to worry you.” It was a lie, but Dunya had been through enough, and there was nothing she could do to help. I folded
Payasam in her arms. “Keep this wretched thing safe for me, yes? And stay in here.”
She nodded. “I promise.”
By the time I returned to my captain’s bench and took up the rudder ropes, the creature had tripled in size on the horizon.
It was darker than dusk, unnatural clouds casting an eerie green light to everything.
The beast was still moving too fast to see its body clearly, tearing through the water with such violence that it looked like an explosion of waves was coming our way.
The smell of marine rot was thick on the fetid air and rain lashed my face, the crashing ocean loud as a drum.
You cannot outrun this one, al-Sirafi .
With Tinbu at the sails and as many men rowing as we had oars, the Marawati flew across the rough sea. But we were hopelessly outmatched, and the weather was only getting worse. Majed joined me on
the bench. Neither of us spoke for a long moment, our gazes locked on the beast.
“We should stop,” he finally said. “Give the men a few minutes to recover before they fight. A few minutes for prayer or to