Chapter 35
The Kraken hurtled into the bowl between two massive waves, its snapping tentacled flag disappearing behind the wall of water as if swallowed up by the sea itself.
Rowan caught his breath and held it, eye trained on the spot the Kraken had vanished.
Waiting. Hoping that it would reemerge. Bolts of lightning sliced the air in quick succession, highlighting every drop of driving rain, every crag of the waves. But the Kraken did not reappear.
Wind snatched away the breath Rowan held, and before he could draw another, lightning forked overhead, narrowly missing the Siren’s main mast. Rowan had no choice but to plunge back into the fray.
Rain lashed his face as he sprinted down the deck to help a knot of crew members haul in a line.
At the front of his mind, worry over Yves and his crew burned.
He knew Yves would not stay dead if the Kraken succumbed to the storm.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be lost. It didn’t mean the loss of his ship and crew wouldn’t affect him and the other survivors, if there were any.
Stupid. He shouldn’t have done this. Yves was right. They were all going to die.
The sodden rope burned as it slipped through his palms. Rowan caught it again, gritting his teeth, his bootheels sliding across the slick deck. He could not think of Yves now. All he could do was fight the storm and survive, so Yves had someone to return to if all else was lost.
Time slowed and stretched, every moment saturated with freezing rain, crashing waves, and the flicker of lightning. All the lanterns had gone out, snuffed by wind and rain, and between the flashes of lightning, the ship plunged into oppressive darkness, careening blindly through the waves.
The Siren’s crew battled through the storm.
Not even a sliver of light peaked through the clouds to tell him whether it was day or night.
All was darkness, endless hours, maybe days, until he could no longer feel time slipping past. Rowan’s body sagged with fatigue, wet clothes dragging at his limbs, but even that felt like a distant thing.
He did not know how long it had been since the Kraken had disappeared.
Rowan found himself missing the stars, the sun, though they wouldn’t have been able to navigate by them even if he could see them.
It was all they could do to keep the ship heading straight into the waves, and they had no idea where they were or how close they might be to a shore or the edge of the storm, if there was one.
“Rowan!”
He whipped around at the sound of Logan’s shout from the quarterdeck, wiped rivulets of rain and sea spray from his eye and squinted through the dark.
Lightning flickered, illuminating the quarterdeck and Logan.
His real hand clutched one spoke of the wheel, he and two other crew members braced bodily against it to keep the ship from turning broadside into the waves.
The silvery steel hook gleamed at the end of his other arm, pointed toward the bow of the ship, his face a rictus of fear.
Rowan followed Logan’s direction to the bow and beyond.
Darkness obscured the sea again for a brief, terrifying moment until another bolt of lightning threaded the low clouds and two spires of ghostly rock loomed up in front of them like pale fingers reaching out of the sea, waves crashing almost to their jagged, towering peaks.
And the Siren was heading right toward them.
Rowan froze, his heart stilling in his chest, and it felt like everything else stopped with him. As if the world itself shared his terror. With the next flash of lightning, everything came into sharp focus.
“Turn! Turn!” But there was no time. The Siren hurtled onward, and if they tried to turn, the waves would smash them broadside into the rocks.
He sprinted toward the quarterdeck, his mind racing ahead with the image of the rocks seared behind his eyes.
He took the steps two at a time and skidded to a halt beside Logan, a plan half formed and on the tip of his tongue.
“Steer between the rocks!” Rowan shouted. Logan’s eyes widened, then his jaw clenched in determination.
“Help me.” Along with the other crew members, they grabbed the spokes of the wheel, struggling against the pull of the waves on the rudder as the Siren careened inevitably toward their doom. Millimeter by millimeter they turned the wheel, as the rocks loomed closer in the flashes of lightning.
“Brace!” Logan shouted, as Rowan fumbled with the bosun’s whistle around his neck and brought it to his lips.
He blew the order to brace as hard as he could, the whistle’s sharp sound barely piercing the storm’s onslaught.
But some of the crew braced and held, pulling their companions down with them.
The next flash brought the rocks into sharp relief against the dark night, looming high above them.
Rowan went to his knees, still bracing the wheel against his shoulder, and dragged Logan down with him, hugging him against his chest. Logan’s soaked blond curls pressed to Rowan’s chin, his huffing breath against Rowan’s neck the only warmth in the storm.
Another flash and the Siren crested the swell of a massive wave, slowing as the bow slipped between the spires. They would make it. Gods, they had to.
Darkness shrouded whatever fate would meet them on the other side.
With a horrible grinding sound like bones macerated between a sea monster’s teeth, the Siren struck first one spire, then the other and lurched to a halt.
Rowan’s shoulder slammed bruisingly against the wheel.
A scream pierced the storm’s roar, cut off by the sickening thud of a body hitting the deck.
The wave dropped out from under them, and they became weightless for a heart-stopping moment as the Siren dropped, the sides of the ship scraping down the jagged rock faces that held them on both sides.
Logan whimpered low in his throat, hook dug into the column of the wheel and the other arm wrapped tight around Rowan’s back.
The Siren’s fall shuddered to a stop, stuck fast between the two spires of rock.
For the first time in what felt like days, the Siren was still. Rowan lifted his head tentatively, sure that at any moment the sides would give way, and they’d fall to their deaths into the hungry sea below.
Another massive wave just like the one that had wedged them broke upon the stern, crashing over the quarterdeck and almost washing Logan out of Rowan’s arms. They clutched each other tighter until the wave fell away.
When Rowan released him, Logan sprawled to the deck. Shaking. Then turned over and heaved up bile onto the already slick wood.
“What the fuck. Are we…” Logan’s lank hair hung over his face.
But they couldn’t afford this moment of weakness. Rowan clambered shakily to his feet and tugged Logan up after him. A smaller wave broke on the hull, causing the Siren to shudder. They both rushed to the rail.
The dark sea churned far below, white caps silvered by lightning. The Siren was wedged over fifty feet high above it.
“Fuck.” Rowan ran a hand down his face. A hysterical laugh bubbled up his throat, his knees going watery. He clutched the rail to keep himself upright.
They were stuck, and only a wave of epic proportions was going to unstick them, but they were alive for now. Would they be able to weather the storm like this? And what would happen if the storm quieted and they were still stuck here, far above the sea?
“Captain!” Henri’s shout pulled Rowan and Logan away from the rail and down the stairs to the main deck, where the crew was picking themselves up. Henri was down on one knee next to a fallen crew member, his fingers pressed to the woman’s neck.
“She fell from the rigging,” Henri said when they stopped beside him.
He shook his head. “Dead.” His brown eyes looked haunted, and Rowan was sure he was thinking this could have been his fate more than a year ago, when he’d fallen from the rigging and broken his leg.
He removed his fingers from the woman’s lack of pulse and closed her staring eyes.
If there had once been blood around the body, the storm had already washed it away.
Rowan allowed himself a brief flash of grief for his fallen crew member.
Her name was Marta. Even if Rowan wasn’t as close with some of the crew, they were his family and his responsibility.
“Take her below, and help Robin,” Rowan ordered, trying to keep his voice steady. Henri nodded and, with the help of another crew member, picked up the body. The rest of the crew began to gather around, muttering amongst themselves.
“We’re stuck for now.” Rowan addressed them, his tired voice accompanied by the crack of the rudder whipping back and forth in the wind. His gaze roved over them, soaked, haggard, exhausted. How many had he lost? How many were dead because of his foolishness?
He swallowed, throat feeling raw. He had to lead, now.
He had to make sure no one else would be lost. They’d worked hard through the storm to keep the Siren afloat, and now there was nothing to do but wait.
He pointed to knots of crew members in turn.
“You, clear the debris, and do as much as you can to secure the ship and cargo. Prioritize food and fresh water over anything else. You, attend the injured, bring them to the infirmary, and make a list of casualties.” His heart clenched at the thought of yet another list of names to bring home to Illusion.
Crew who depended on him who’d been swept away or killed in the storm.
He tried to shake it off as he pointed to the last group, the men and women who’d worked harder, and took more risk than all the rest in the rigging.
“Get some rest while you can. Everyone, stay to the center of the ship as much as possible. I don’t know how secure we are but we have no choice but to wait and hope the storm moves away. ”