31. The Monster in the Mist #2
Hooking one elbow beneath the rail, she crouched and wound her arms tightly through the balustrades, anchoring herself to the ship as it violently rocked itself back to rights, then stilled.
A hand landed on her ankle. She jerked away with a screech. But as Stede’s face appeared from the gloom, mere inches from her own, she burst with a sob of relief.
“Alright?” he asked. His voice sounded far away, like it was being quenched. A trail of blood oozed from his temple.
Cecily reached for him. He pulled her to her feet, and a kitchen knife appeared in his hand.
“You hurt?” he asked.
“No,” she said, scanning him for more wounds. He was okay, and she was desperate to ensure he stayed that way. “Go below deck. Get to safety—”
“I should say the same to you.” It was the closest thing to a scold she’d ever heard from him. He gripped her forearms and pushed her away from the edge of the ship, staying close enough to hear. “If you can find a door, go. Spare yourself, lass.”
Cecily’s boot skidded on something wet. She caught herself before she could tumble into the puddle of blood and gore beneath her. It had once been a person, and her heart turned to lead as she wondered who—and knew there would probably be no way to know with so little of them left.
“What is this?” Fear and desperation coated her words. “What am I sparing myself from?”
As if in answer, a blue orb blinked awake above them. In the silence, it lowered until it hovered just over their heads—a blindingly bright light encased in a fleshy membrane.
A creature, then.
Stede cursed. Cecily lifted her sword, prepared to cut the orb, but the cook’s grip turned crushing. He shoved her, forcing her back hard enough to send her sprawling to the deck. She looked up, and for a moment, she could see him clearly through the parted fog, illuminated by the orb.
His dark, loving eyes were apologetic as he gazed at her. His lips formed one word: Go.
And then a pair of massive jaws closed around the old man’s body. Blood gushed over the deck, the orb winked out, and murky shadows flooded back in.
Cecily felt the shriek tear out of her, ripping from her core and vibrating her bones, even as her mind and ears filled with a terrible, numb buzzing.
Not Stede.
The tender old man who’d been kind to her, fed her, and cared for her when she least deserved it. He’d welcomed her, loved her.
Not Stede!
Still screaming, she scrambled forward on her knees, searching for where he’d stood.
All that was left was blood, and now her hands were covered in it, her knees stained with it.
Her vocal cords shredded, not with words but with feeling, horror, grief, a familiar shattering of her soul as a piece of her heart was senselessly ripped away.
Not Stede, not Stede, not Stede—
Suddenly, the blood on her hands glowed blue. The orb had returned, hanging silently above her like an invitation.
It would take her too.
With tears streaming down her face, she pushed to her feet. All around her, more orbs blazed into existence, but instead of looking at them or searching for other pirates, she looked up.
And found a face much worse than any nightmare she’d ever dreamed or lived through.
It looked like a dragon, and by the size of its head alone, it had to be several times larger than the ship.
Its breath swirled the fog around her, parting it in small bursts to reveal dozens of horn-like protrusions jutting from its face, each one tipped with a bulb, some glowing.
Its eyes glowed too, bright as moonlight and blue as aquamarine—and they bled, blinded by familiar throwing knives that had lodged into the sockets, their hilts shining in the light.
Jack. Had it killed him too?
The serpent opened its jaws, revealing multiple rows of sharp, bloodied teeth and a forked tongue. Its hot breath smelled like rotting flesh.
For a fleeting moment, she worried that any of that blood might be Jack’s or Hester’s or Greyson’s.
But she knew it was Stede’s.
She looked into the creature’s blinded eyes, her lips screwing together in a vindictive snarl. In a single, smooth stroke, she swung her blade over her head, severing the bulb hanging above her. The light winked out as the orb fell to her feet, spilling luminescence across the boards.
The serpent’s answering roar pierced the gloom, louder than thunder, sharper than screams. It was the promise of hell and nightmares. It was revenge made into a monster.
Cecily roared back.
The serpent lowered its head, its mouth opening wide to snap her up. She threw herself out of the way, maintaining her footing on the slick deck as she sliced through another of the orbs. The monster reared back with a shriek, its serpentine body cleaving the mist.
Its fleshy underside appeared.
Cecily burst into a sprint, racing for where the creature’s body emerged from the sea.
She planted her foot on the rail and launched herself into the air, her sword held aloft in both hands above her head, the blade angled toward the monster’s belly.
Fog shrouded the air behind her, and it briefly occurred to her that this might be a terrible idea.
But Stede. Jack. Hester. Greyson. Eighty souls who lived aboard this ship. If there was a chance they were still alive, she would do this for them.
She plunged her sword into the serpent. Black blood erupted from the wound as Cecily tore her blade to the side and shoved it deeper into the serpent’s heart, dousing her in thick, vile gore. The creature shrieked and fell into the ocean, taking Cecily with it.
Cold water crushed her from all sides as the serpent dove, growing heavier with every second. Her hands remained locked around the hilt of her precious sword, even as light from the surface began to dim.
Planting her feet against the creature’s belly, Cecily tugged, but the weapon had lodged between massive bones and pinching scales, refusing to budge.
Even in the heavy darkness of the deep, she could hear the serpent crying out, dying as she fought to wrench the sword free.