Chapter 27
GUT THE FISH AND THROW HIM OVERBOARD
Ziara
Iwoke to the slap of waves and the stench of brine.
For one disoriented moment, the fear that I was back in the den as the dragon flooded it was like a bucket of water thrown in my face.
But the hammock swaying beneath me and the foreign sea salt on my lips snapped me back to reality.
Pale dawn light crept through the portholes, gilding the sick bay’s grime in shades of gold that it absolutely didn’t deserve.
I sat up, pulse quickening, and found the alpha already awake.
He stood by the starboard porthole, arms folded, watching the horizon with the stillness of a predator sighting prey.
“Mornin’. Is everything okay?” I asked.
His nod was sharper than a blade.
I slid from the hammock and closed the distance between us, trying to muster up the courage to reveal everything I’d discovered last night. “How far out are we?”
“Close enough to see land.” His voice was flat. Controlled. He clearly hadn’t forgiven me yet, and I really didn’t want to dig this divide between us any deeper.
Rust stirred in his hammock and cracked one eye open. He spotted me and frowned before settling his feet on the floor.
Mack sat up and ran his hands through his curls. He caught one glimpse of me and looked away so fast you'd think I was Medusa.
I had a lot of damage control to do if I expected the team to listen to me, and my window was closing.
I had exactly as long as it took for the alpha to give his first order of the day before my intel and plan became useless.
If I didn’t speak up now, I’d likely chicken out again, and we’d walk into the slavers’ trap blind.
“Alpha.” I swallowed, wishing my voice sounded a little steadier. “I have a report.”
Every head turned my way.
Dad’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t command me to speak, but the weight of his attention was permission enough.
“The fishmen are planning to betray us. Last night, Captain Oannes sent a carrier pigeon to a Somalian slaver, informing him of our presence.” I paused to let that sink in. “The captain plans to sell you, Rust, and Mack. I’m… I’m being kept for the crew.”
Silence.
Mack’s expression hardened. Rust pushed away from his hammock, the drowsiness gone from his eyes.
The alpha didn’t move. “How do you know this?”
Here it came. With a deep, fortifying breath, I said, “I left the sick bay last night, climbed up to the crow’s nest, and overheard a conversation between Lakhmu and the captain. I saw them send the pigeon.”
His eyes narrowed. “They spoke in English?”
“No. But it was clear they were talking about us. After they left, I climbed down and found the fire sprite they keep caged in the bow of the ship. She’s what fought off the snake, and she told me of their plans. She promised to help us escape if I freed her.”
Dad’s jaw ticked. The tendons in his neck stood out like cables. I watched his hand drift to the hilt of his sword, and I genuinely feared he might use it on me.
“Did you free her?”
“I did.”
He scoffed. “On a wooden ship. I’m surprised we’re still floating. She must have bailed immediately.”
“She made a vow to help us, to not torch the ship until we’re gone, and to wait for my signal before she attacks. Sprites can’t break their word.”
He frowned but didn’t dispute the claim. Hopefully, that meant it was true, and Anunit hadn’t lied to me.
“You disobeyed a direct order.”
“Yes, Alpha.”
“Again.”
“Yes, Alpha.” I held his gaze and bared my throat. “And now we won’t be walking into this trap unaware.”
I knew better than to try to justify my actions.
Dad wasn’t looking for excuses or reasons.
He wanted submissive compliance from me, but I was only trying to help.
He had to see that. The silence that stretched between us grew teeth.
They nibbled at the edges of my sanity, making me want to scream that my disobedience had been necessary.
“What else did this sprite tell you?” Rust finally asked, putting me out of my misery.
I released my breath and told him about Oannes.
Once I finished, Rust said, “What’s the plan, Alpha?”
Dad peered out the porthole. Following his gaze, I caught the dark smudge of land in the distance against the pale sky. We were running out of time.
“Where’s the dinghy?” he asked.
“Port side, off the quarterdeck. There’s a canvas tarp covering it.”
“Weapons?”
“Their cutlasses appear to be standard steel, nothing enchanted,” Rust said, surprising precisely no one with his reconnaissance.
Dad pushed off the wall and slid Mack’s spear out of the door, tossing it to him. “How many crew topside at any given time?”
Mack stood just in time to catch it. “Half. Seven on, seven off. The captain seems to float.”
“The quarterdeck doesn’t offer much in the way of cover. The sprite. Can she create a diversion?”
“Yes. She awaits your orders and is hopeful that Oannes will return to help once the figurehead goes dark. With any luck, the crew will be busy fighting the two of them while we escape on the dinghy.”
The alpha nodded. “You said the door to her cage is on the deck. Can you reach her without being seen?”
Last night, I’d easily navigated the shadows of the deck. This morning, the shadows were steadily disappearing, and there’d be a lot more fishmen up and about. “I’ll keep to the iron cage outside the ship.”
“Good. If you’re spotted, gut the fish and throw him overboard. You hear me?”
“Loud and clear.” I’d learned my lesson. This time, I wouldn’t hesitate.
“Rust, you’re on the dinghy. Get it prepped and in the water. Mackiel, cover him. Ziara, signal the sprite, and then get your ass to the dinghy. I’ll handle anyone who comes to stop us.”
“What about the slavers on the island?” I asked.
“One problem at a time.” He slung his rifle over his shoulder and checked the magazine. “How long will it take you to alert the fire sprite?”
It was a big ship, and she was all the way at the front, but I was fast. “Ten minutes. Max.”
Dad met my eyes, assessing me with the cold calculation of an alpha deciding how to deploy an asset he couldn’t fully trust to succeed.
“We’ll give you fifteen, and then we’ll move. Don’t deviate from my orders this time,” he said. “And Ziara, after we make it off this ship, you and I are going to have a long conversation.”
I’d been expecting as much, but my stomach still twisted in knots. “Yes, Alpha.”
“Get going.”
Flinging my backpack over my shoulders, I made my way to the porthole and slipped out.
Time to let a furious fire sprite off her leash.
The iron cage was slick with sea spray and morning dew, but my fingers found their grip.
I scaled the hull as if I’d been doing it my entire life, keeping low and tight against the bars.
The water churned below, dark and uninviting.
One slip and I’d be fish food. Or food for whatever nefarious creatures lived in the deep.
The wind had picked up, carrying the stink of the crew and the sharper tang of salt. Above, boots thudded against the deck, accompanied by the guttural murmur of sailors going about their morning tasks.
I edged along the port side ribcage toward the bow, pausing every time a shadow passed above.
My arms burned from the effort of clinging to wet iron while the ship rocked, but I’d trained for worse.
Rust had once made me hang from the ceiling of the gym for a full forty-five minutes while he lobbed tennis balls at my head.
This was practically relaxing by comparison.
By the time I reached the bow, my fingers had collected a few new blisters, and my shoulders screamed in protest. Instead of approaching Anunit’s door on the busy deck, I swung through the bars and dropped onto the gaping beak of the figurehead.
Despite my unvoiced fear that Dad was right, and she’d bolted, the sprite hovered beside her broken cage, flames burning low and steady.
Her eyes brimmed with anticipation when they met mine. “It is time?”
As much as I hated to admit, it had been closer to fifteen minutes since I’d left my packmates. “My people are heading to the dinghy from the stern now. They could really use a distraction.”
She nodded once, and something shifted in her expression. The exhaustion I’d seen last night was still there, layered beneath fading burns and bone-deep weariness, but there was something else now, too. Purpose.
“Give them a few minutes, and then do your worst.”
I turned to go, but she stopped me.
“Ziara.” Her voice crackled, gaining my full attention. “Thank you for hearing my song.”
My throat tightened. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”
“I will not forget your kindness.”
“And I won’t forget your help. Be careful, and light these bastards up for what they did to you.”
The wide grin that spread across her features was entirely malicious, with a side of crazy. “Oh, I intend to.”
I didn’t linger. Swinging back onto the iron ribcage, I rounded the bow to position myself on the port side.
Hand over hand, bar by bar, I worked my way toward the dinghy while the ship groaned beneath me. My muscles trembled, but a heady combination of fear and adrenaline kept me moving.
I was halfway to the dinghy when I heard a noise above. My head shot up to find a fishman leaning over the railing to sneer at me.
We locked eyes.
His mouth opened.
I didn’t think. I simply lunged upward, grabbed him by the arm, and yanked him over the rail. He flailed past me with a strangled shriek, hit the water, and disappeared beneath the wake.
It wasn’t quite the ‘gut the fish and throw him overboard’ order I’d been given—I only had two hands, and the other was holding on for dear life—but it was close enough.
The splash was loud enough to make my heart stutter, but nobody on deck seemed to notice because Anunit chose that very moment to explode from her prison like a star being born. Her screech rent the air, and panicked shouts of alarm answered from the deck.