14. In which there is a shanty and a vow
IN WHICH THERE IS A SHANTY AND A VOW
Hester walked out onto the deck of the Intrepid, supported on either side by Fliss and Rufus, the Intrepid’s crew lining the deck to bid her farewell.
Sooty, Septimus’s black wolfhound, almost tripped her over a few times, winding through her legs and licking her hands.
She couldn’t fathom how such a sour man could have raised such a sweet dog.
Sooty hadn’t left Hester’s side while she’d rested in bed.
Victor was absent, though she quickly pushed all thoughts of him aside. He was not worth the energy.
Septimus stood by the rope ladder that led down to the lifeboat. “You still plan on journeying to Vahsel Bay?”
“Of course,” Hester said, puffing out her chest. “A little drowning wouldn’t prevent me from beating you, Septimus.”
Septimus rolled his eyes. “It was barely worth asking, was it?”
“No,” she said, a smug smile creeping over her face. Barring this little mishap, she was having the time of her life. No other expedition compared to it. There was no way she was giving up now.
Rufus climbed down into the lifeboat first, then Hester, though her arms felt weak and sore, and finally Fliss.
Hester sat in the bow as Rufus and Fliss pulled at the oars, and the boat drifted away.
The Intrepid’s crew were waving, and Septimus stood a little way back.
He inclined his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and a peace settled in Hester’s heart.
She sat upright, startled, and then threw him a wink and a salute.
She couldn’t be going soft on him. Especially if she planned on beating him.
It wasn’t far to the Valour, and as they approached, the crew cheered raucously from the deck. Ah, her crew, her dearest friends. She sniffed and tried to stop her lower lip from wobbling.
The lifeboat bounced against the hull, and Hester climbed the ladder, her muscles screaming at her.
As she neared the last few feet, Winston reached down to grab her, hoisting her up.
She fell into his arms, her knees nearly buckling as her feet hit the deck, and Winston scooped her up, carrying her like a baby down below decks and to her cabin, the others following.
She buried her face in his chest so no one would see the tears that spilled, and by the time he set her on the bed, she had composed herself.
“What on God’s green Earth did you all do to your hair?” Hester asked, chuckling as she surveyed the crew crowding into the cabin.
“There may have been a…small party to celebrate your return to life,” Winston said, sitting on the bed next to her. “Things may have gotten out of hand.”
“Peggy gave us all Hester haircuts,” Charlotte said, her hands clasped in front of her, her smile so wide that her cheeks bore dimples. “Well, obviously not the men. For some reason they just decided on cutting it all off. You know what men are like.”
Hester snorted, then scowled. A party? Without her? “I cannot believe you had such a fine time without me.”
“Once you’re fully recovered we’ll have another. Though we may have to start adding more water to the rum,” Betty said. “We made a rather large dent in the stocks.”
Hester rolled her eyes. As if drowning wasn’t bad enough.
Charlotte came to her bedside and bent to kiss her cheek. “I thought you should see this.” She pulled out a small book titled Myths and Legends of Shape-Shifting Animals and opened the page to one that read ‘Devil’, showing an orca. “Do you think this could be the orca that tried to eat you?”
Hester frowned at the picture. “I suppose it could be?” She took the book from Charlotte and flipped through the pages, stopping on the one with the winged man and staring. ‘Aquiline’. She shifted her shoulder blades. The winged woman she had seen. The wings on her own back. Angel or…this?
“We made a song about your heroics,” Mei said, and Hester tore her eyes from the picture and beheld the coy smile of her cook.
Now, this was more like it. “No,” Hester breathed, delight dancing in her eyes. “A song? About me?” She handed the book back to Charlotte.
“We’ll play it later,” Mei said.
“Oh, no. Now. I want to hear it!”
“Charlotte wrote the words,” Valerie said, clapping Charlotte on the shoulder.
“It’s honestly not very good,” Charlotte protested.
Mei dashed off and appeared moments later with her accordion and Rufus’s banjo. Hester crossed her legs on the bed and clapped her hands together. “I always knew I’d be immortalised in song. Let’s hear it.”
The accordion’s deep melody filled the cabin, and Rufus struck up on the banjo.
Charlotte began to sing, her cheeks flushing:
Oh, the Weddell Sea is a cruel mistress,
Where the floes stretch ever more,
But Captain Hester Orn set out,
To seek the Antarctic shore.
Through pack ice and the sparkling mists,
Her sturdy ship did glide,
And when the giant orca neared,
She refused to run and hide.
The rest of the crew joined in with the chorus then, singing as loudly as they had done the previous evening:
Heave-ho! Through the ice we break
Though the frost bites hard and the sail doth shake!
With Valour we sail through the frozen sea,
Captain Orn and the crew and me!
Hester clapped, her mouth open in awe as Charlotte sang the next verse:
The beast came forth in black and white,
And hauled up on the floe,
But Hester Orn was not afraid,
And bid the terror to go,
She fired the harpoon with all her might,
Towards the murderous whale,
And struck the beast in its cavernous jaws,
Her aim would never fail.
They all joined in again with the chorus, including Hester this time, slapping her thighs along with the music. And Charlotte sang the final verse:
Now the Weddell Sea will freeze your bones,
And the ice may shriek and groan,
But the tale of Orn will warm your heart,
Wherever you may roam.
Raise a cheer to her heroic deeds,
And let her name sound free,
The captain who braved the giant whale,
And bested the Weddell Sea!
The music died and Hester covered her mouth with both hands and blinked back tears. It was the finest song she had ever heard. Dying was absolutely worth it.
The crew looked at her earnestly.
“Do you like it?” Charlotte whispered, her cheeks blazing. “I haven’t written a song in so long. It’s probably awful.”
“Like it?” Hester whispered, muffled behind her hands. “Like it?”
“I think she liked it,” Fliss said, grinning. “The cold water clearly had some effect on our captain, look. I don’t recall ever seeing her cry before.”
“I’m not crying—you’re crying!” Hester wailed, tucking her knees to her chest and hiding her face behind them, her shoulders shaking. “Now—who is steering this ship?!”
They all looked at each other, and then bolted out of the cabin.
Hester slumped back onto her bed, Snowball nuzzling into her side. The weight of it all came crashing down. The orca. The fact it had spoken to her. Had sensed her magic. She had died.
She flipped over, pressing her face into her pillow, threading her fingers through Snowball’s long fur. She took a shuddering breath.
And vowed not to use her magic again.