28. Rowan
Rowan
Absolutely not.
I felt for Miki, really I did. I wished very much that I could help get her coat back so she and Panak could raise their family together in good health. I wanted nothing but the best for them, but now there were fucking harpoons being shot at Milo, and he’d already nearly been eaten once.
As much as I wanted to help Miki, I had my own family to protect.
That family was Milo, and whatever children we may or may not have in the future.
There wouldn’t be a future at all, though, if we were eaten or impaled.
Enough was enough. We’d tried, but we were sorely unprepared for this situation. I was getting us out of here.
Keeping my head low, I started the motor, then rushed to the helm to turn us the fuck around.
“What are you doing?” Milo asked, standing up to dash over to me.
“Get down, Milo!” I scolded, completely unsure of where the next harpoon, or whatever else, might come from as I went full throttle back the way we’d come.
As long as I continued straight, I knew we wouldn’t crash into anything in the fog.
Unfortunately, that didn’t mean anything wouldn’t crash into us in the fog.
It was an orca, probably, that jostled the boat suddenly, sending us rapidly off course. Shit. Another huge bump, definitely orca, and I was no longer sure exactly which way we’d come from in this damn fog. I had to just make my best guess.
“Rowan.” Milo yanked at my arm. “You’re going the wrong way.”
I didn’t answer. He could be as angry at me as he wanted to be, and any of the selkies currently on my boat that wanted to stay were welcome to jump off any time. What was important was to get Milo to safety.
A jagged wall of white appeared through the fog in front of us. I cursed as I spun the wheel rapidly to avoid the ice. A near miss. My pulse thumped in my ears as I continued in a new direction.
Again a tower of ice foiled our escape, and this time my boat scraped against the side of it, taking off paint but thankfully not doing any structural damage, probably. I could still get us home.
“Rowan, stop, we have to go back.” Milo tried to grab the wheel.
I refused to let him. “Enough, Milo.” I yanked it back in the direction I wanted to take us.
Milo stomped his foot and yanked it toward himself again.
This time, it was a rough sheet of ice in front of us, and it was completely unavoidable. The bump as we mounted it was large, and sudden. I grabbed Milo to keep him with me as my boat made a horrible, loud scraping noise as sharp ice carved up the stern.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. That wasn’t good.
Then the nose dipped, and we slid back into the water, the motor still running at full power.
We couldn’t take another hit like that.
“Fuck!” I cursed as I went to power it down. I’d need to figure out another way through this fog first.
I pulled the throttle lever to reduce our speed, and my heart sank as it felt completely slack in my hand, offering absolutely no resistance.
I jerked it back and forward a few times, but it did nothing.
Whatever damage that ice sheet had done to the boat meant I no longer had any control over the motor’s power.
Milo turned the wheel back toward the iceberg.
“No!” I shouted. “Milo, we can’t slow down!”
Too late. I was too slow, and we were moving too fast. The next time the boat mounted ice, it wasn’t flat, and we didn’t dip back into the water. We were airborne.
I did all I could do, which was to grab Milo and pull him into me, using my body to shield him from whatever was about to happen and praying it would be enough.
The boat crashed into something solid, and my body absorbed the impact as we were thrown forward. Milo was tucked safely in my arms, while selkies cursed and shouted as they were slammed about.
Then we were still, and there was silence save for the creaking of warped metal.
I was scared to open my eyes, afraid of what I’d find when I did. But Milo’s movement in my arms settled the worst of my fears.
As I opened them, I found his silver eyes staring back at me in complete shock. He was okay. He had to be. Despite the pain that echoed through my back from what was probably going to be a nasty bruise, I seemed to be okay too.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, to be sure.
He blinked a few times before shaking his head. “I… I don’t think so.”
Relief flooded through me. At the sound of a groan nearby, I dared to examine our surroundings. There were selkies scattered over the wreckage, but everyone was moving, and no one seemed to be badly injured.
By some miracle, everyone was okay. For now, anyway. We no longer had a method of escape, and there was no telling just what was ahead of us. I pulled myself up, wincing slightly at the dull throb in my back before helping Milo get to his feet again as well.
While our bodies had been spared any serious damage, the same couldn’t be said for my boat. Or, apparently, the iceberg we’d crashed into. Except iceberg wasn’t quite right.
The surface we’d collided with was surrounded by ice, concealed by it, or it had been.
But what we’d crashed into and successfully broken through was undoubtedly some form of entrance to the poacher’s hidden base.
The pale metal door looked thick and sturdy, but apparently not quite sturdy enough to stop a flying boat.
It was warped inward, the tip of the boat having created an opening just wide enough for us to squeeze through and get inside.
“I knew the goddess would guide us,” Milo said as he smiled widely. “It’s here!” he called out loudly to the others, jumping in excitement and cupping his hands around his mouth to project his voice further. “We found a way in here!”