Chapter 50
Amaya did her best to block everything out but the storm as she ascended to the pilothouse with Will, Sebastian, and Crowe.
Nicholas stood at the helm, struggling to maintain his grip against the fierce winds.
Wipers flung back and forth against the glass, batting away the rain, but it was still nearly impossible to see.
Ford was already there for extra strength if needed.
It would be needed.
Amaya moved to the front of the small space, the conductor resting in her palm.
The Aether current revealed itself when she opened it, passing through the glass and leading into the terrible storm.
Will stood beside her, and Sebastian planted himself next to the radio in the back.
The main deck was empty, everyone else having been ordered to take cover below.
Amaya’s stomach churned, her abdomen tightening to keep her balance as a gust of wind threw the Maelstrom off-kilter.
“It’s just a storm,” Amaya said, half to herself and half to Will. “You’ve flown through storms before, right?”
“Well . . .” Will’s face looked grim. “Not one like this.”
Even though it was cold, Amaya broke out in a sweat.
“That’s not very reassuring,” she hissed. “Exactly how many ships has this storm taken out?” She imagined the Maelstrom joining the airship graveyard miles below them and shivered.
“None of those ships had you.”
“But I don’t know what I’m doing.”
All of Amaya’s confidence flew out the window now that the moment had arrived. This was a mistake. She was going to get them all killed, she—
“Here we go,” Nicholas said, steering the ship into the storm.
Amaya held her breath, forcing herself not to close her eyes. She focused on the Aether current like it was her only lifeline—because it was.
At first, it seemed like the winds would push them out. But then, they found themselves caught in a powerful whirlwind of Aether.
Ford and Crowe immediately grabbed the helm, fighting to help Nicholas regain control of the ship as the Maelstrom flung to the side, at the mercy of the winds. Amaya squeaked, the sudden shift in gravity throwing her against Will’s body as he braced himself against the wall.
“Nicholas!” Will said. “Level out!”
The ship tilted nearly on its side, and Amaya worried they were about to tip upside-down.
“I’m working on it!” Nicholas’s biceps flexed, Ford and Crowe leveraging their entire combined body weights to turn the wheel and force the ship upright.
Dark, swirling Aether surrounded them on all sides now, everything drenched in eerie, shifting shades of blue. They couldn’t turn back now if they wanted to. They were trapped in a tornado, being sucked deeper and deeper into the storm.
Amaya had a feeling the Skyvault lay at the heart of it, which would be straightforward enough if not for the certain knowledge that shifting mountains surrounded them, too. Colliding with one at this speed would cleave the Maelstrom in half and kill them all.
“Shit.” Sebastian pointed. “Mountain at twelve o’clock!”
Amaya sucked in a breath as the shadow of a mountain passed in front of them, its stony face barely missing the bow.
She could hardly see it, but it was there.
The realization of how little they could see struck terror into her bones.
When she glanced up at Will and saw how tight his jaw was, she knew he’d had the same thought.
“Amaya? Care to help?” Nicholas gritted out. “I’m flying blind here!”
Will hooked one arm around Amaya’s waist to hold her steady while she held out the conductor, hand cramping from gripping it so tightly. The astronomical rings inside whirled, spinning in every direction with dizzying mania. But the path was still clear.
“Bear left!” she said. Nicholas shifted the helm with the help of Ford and Crowe. “Good—straight ahead! Wait—no. Left. Left!”
The ship veered according to Amaya’s instructions, another mountain passing by on the right. It dwarfed the Maelstrom, barely visible through the sea of Aether.
“Bas, the shields—” Will began.
“They’re equipped,” Sebastian said. “But I’m not sure how long they’ll last under this kind of pressure.”
Amaya’s throat tightened as the path, formerly a slightly curved line, began to wave and curl. The mountains were moving. Her tongue dried up as she contemplated how to explain it, wishing more than anything that the others could see what she saw.
“Nicholas, bear right!” she called. “Then left. Then right again.”
“What?”
“It’s like . . .” Amaya tried to demonstrate by waving her arm like a snake, illustrating the path. But the imprecise shape didn’t account for timing and distance, and Nicholas looked at her like she was speaking a different language.
“Let me rephrase,” he said, eyes flickering between her and the raging storm. “What!?”
Amaya let out a cry of frustration and broke free from Will’s steadying grip, ducking under Crowe’s arms and emerging in front of Nicholas.
“Hey—”
Ignoring Nicholas’s protest, Amaya held the orb between her thumb and her forefinger, curling her hands around the rubber grips on the steel-spoked wheel.
“Help me turn it!” Amaya shifted her weight to the right, and Nicholas followed suit, assisted by Ford and Crowe. Amaya could do little actual steering, but having her guide their efforts helped tremendously.
They didn’t turn quickly enough, though.
The Maelstrom scraped against a mountain with an ear-splitting screech, making the hull groan and the shields sputter.
Amaya ground her teeth and continued pushing on the wheel, trying to create some distance between them and the mountain as the Skystone led them into the next curve.
Her muscles already burned, her breath coming out in short gasps while her eyes stung with sweat. She was not in good enough shape for this.
“One more turn, then it’s straight ahead,” she said, watching the Aether current. The conductor’s rings, which had slowed for a moment, suddenly sped up again.
Amaya didn’t know if it was her connection to Aether or her subconscious picking up on the emerging pattern, but she suddenly ascertained the rings’ purpose: they signaled proximity to danger.
Which meant—shit.
“Will!”
Will met her on the other side of the helm without delay, briefly sacrificing their view of the storm for an extra measure of strength. He gripped the wheel and turned with them, lessening the burden—a little too much. They overcorrected, and the Maelstrom smashed into a mountain.
The impact broke through a shield, shattering the force field and crushing the side of the ship like tin foil.
Curses, cries, and groans volleyed around the room as the impact tossed everyone aside. Amaya found herself ripped from the helm and screamed, clutching the conductor to her chest to keep the crystal from cracking.
They all landed on top of each other. Crowe somewhat cushioned Amaya’s fall, but not entirely. Her shoulder hit the wall with force, drawing forth a pained cry as her ankle twisted.
“The helm!” Sebastian shouted, crawling across the floor to the wheel. It was spinning out of control—and so was the ship. The storm was about to hurl them out of the sky, just like it had every other ship that dared to brave it.
“I’ve got it!” Nicholas scrambled back and tried to reclaim the wheel, but it was spinning too fast for him to get a solid grip. Amaya winced as the spokes smacked his hands. When he finally managed to grip it, the storm wrenched it from his grasp a second later.
Although Amaya didn’t usually pray, she did then, begging for the Maker’s mercy. The spiraling ship threw all coherent thoughts from her head, replacing them with visions of inevitable death and darkness.
Will fought for his balance with more composure than the rest of them, stomping to his feet and slipping his hand beneath the collar of his shirt to Ultima. His muscles flexed and his body went rigid for a breath before his eyes settled into grim, gray focus.
“Nick, I’m taking over.” Leaving no room for argument, Will shoved Nicholas out of the way and planted his feet before the helm, seizing it with both hands and forcing it back to center. The Maelstrom groaned in protest as it turned upright.
Meanwhile, Amaya was in shambles on her hands and knees. Her entire body shook from a toxic mixture of adrenaline, the anticipation of certain death, and muscle fatigue. She thought she might be sick from the wild motion.
“Amaya, where the hell am I going?” Will asked. “Amaya!”
“Let’s go, princess.” Sebastian knelt down to help Amaya to her feet and back to the helm, where she found her place in front of Will and put her hands over his. Her twisted ankle ached, and she felt like she was about to fracture under the pressure. Everyone on this ship died if she failed.
The Skystone beamed ahead, but this time, it didn’t bid them to turn left or right. The swirling blue line arced up, like the start of a seaside carnival coaster.
“Up,” she said, breathless. “We need to gain altitude.”
“Dammit.” Will tugged on the helm and the Maelstrom began to climb, going against every wind current trying to drag them back into the tornado.
The astronomical rings spun wildly, and Amaya brought herself down on the helm to help, crouching down and straining her arms to tilt it up at a steeper angle.
“Higher!”
The Maelstrom skimmed across the top of a mountain, briefly slowing their momentum and tearing loose an assortment of debris. Amaya squeezed both her core and the helm to keep from falling into Will, wincing against the shuddering scrape of rock dragging along the ship’s keel.
“Are we close?” Will asked, his voice low in her ear.
“I don’t know,” Amaya said, shaking her head as the path curved ahead. “It doesn’t show me that.” But the Aether Storm was not a mere dot on a map, and unless the Skyvault was near the edge, they still had a long way to go.