Never Better
Chapter fifty
Finn’s body flamed in spite of the frigid sheets of rain pelting his skin. He’d lost control. His grip had slipped. His barriers dropped. And he’d almost kissed his wife because of it.
“Tie yourselves to the rigging!” the captain shouted over the storm’s drumbeat. “Then furl the sails, all but the jib!” He barked his commands while rushing toward the wheel.
Water ran into his eyes and plastered his hair to his forehead.
He swiped it away and reached for a swirl of rope.
Finn knotted one end of the rope into the shroud of the mainmast, the other about his waist. To his right, Lucianna did the same, as did Kelwin to his left.
On the opposite side of the mast, Petals helped Cora.
“Those who are able, climb!” Kelwin’s voice could barely be heard over the elements.
Finn’s stomach tossed like the ship in the waves.
He thought of Lucianna’s reckless behavior on the day of the smoke and hoped she would not behave the same today.
If he could, he’d force her to stay in the captain’s quarters with Wren, but he knew he could not.
They were needed, both of them, to keep this ship afloat and their crew alive.
Right as Finn grasped the shroud, another body pushed in beside him. Castien secured a rope around his waist, then turned to meet Finn’s gaze. His cousin’s eyes—usually a deep brown—were black and filled with determination.
“We are not dying today,” Castien promised, then set to climbing.
Finn followed after him. His hands struggled to grip the slick rope and rungs on the mast as he climbed.
They had just made it to the first sail when the ship pitched to the right.
Finn’s muscles burned as he clung to the mast. He glanced down and could just barely make out his wife’s dark hair and slight frame below.
Castien, Finn, and Lucianna straddled the rigging and set to work rolling the canvas into the yard, a crossbeam that they’d tie the fabric to.
Petals and Kelwin continued past them to the higher top sail.
Finn did not spot Cora’s red hair and suspected she had opted to stay on the deck.
If she was as ill-equipped for activity as she let on, it was a smart choice.
Better to be down a pair of hands for a task than for good.
It felt like rolling a boulder up a hill, but between the three of them, they managed to secure the sail. Up above, Petals’s strength and stamina combined with Kelwin’s expertise seemed to make them more productive, as they were already on to the topmost sail.
“Foremast!” Castien shouted, to indicate they should climb down and go on to the next set of sails.
Finn nodded and clung to the rigging while Castien went down first. He gestured for Lucianna to go next.
He’d feel better once she was on the deck again.
No place was safe on a ship in a storm. It was like being trapped in a dungeon, but with the possibility of drowning.
Nonetheless, it was marginally better to be on the deck than in the sky.
Once on the deck, he began untying himself from the main shroud.
Each task was painstakingly slow due to the torrential rains and rocking ship fighting him at every turn.
His clothes might as well have been made of stone for how they weighed him down.
But there was no time to shed his thick wool coat.
He trudged toward the foremast alongside his cousin and wife, both equally encumbered.
Finn secured the other end of the rope to the foremast shroud, and none too soon as the ship reared back over a cresting wave.
He lost his footing and began to slide down the deck.
Rope clamped into his waist like the jaws of a great beast as it caught him.
A cry pierced the gale. Lucianna slid past him, scrambling for purchase against the slick boards.
Finn dove and caught her slithering rope.
It cut into his hands. He grunted in pain as he fought gravity.
Lucianna stopped just short of slamming into the wall of the quarterdeck.
Finn held the rope with great exertion until the ship righted itself once more.
Lucianna pushed onto her knees, then to her feet. Finn did the same, though he kept hold of her rope. They rushed to the foremast together, where Lucianna tied her rope to the shroud. Finn grasped the braided ladder. Lucianna placed a rain-soaked hand over his.
“Thank you,” she called out.
He nodded once, heart hammering as they ascended the foremast. Castien waited for them at the first yard.
“Are you all right?” Cas shouted.
Finn slung a leg over the rigging and held out a hand to Lucianna. She grasped hold of it and allowed him to aid her movement. His muscles ached with exertion, and he was certain his abdomen would be splotched with bruises from where the rope dug in.
“We’re alive,” Finn replied.
Castien said nothing else, simply got to work. They moved as fast as the weather and their fading strength allowed. Each of them knew hard training, but the life of a sailor was not easily adapted to. Still they pushed.
The Tides did everything it could to suck them into its depths.
Like a great, hungry beast its waves clawed and swiped at the Maralyn.
Even after the sails were all furled and all they had to do was ride the storm out, they were not without peril.
The captain—tied to the wheel—steered them into the wind and rode the flat of the tide best he could.
Salty water cascaded onto the deck like a barrel being poured out by some invisible, malevolent hand.
Frigid winds stung Finn’s eyes. He tasted nothing but salt and fear.
Visibility was low, but the large black spikes of rock protruding from the Tides were unmistakeable. This was Splinter Point, and there were only two options in a place such as this: survive or be buried at sea.
“I need to get to Wren!” Castien yelled as he untied his rope. “Can you hold me until I get to the mainmast?”
Finn and Lucianna were still secured to the foremast, choosing to wait out the storm there. Petals and Kelwin had handled the remaining sails and were secured at the mizzenmast on the far side of the ship closest to the captain.
Finn’s muscles screamed in protest at the very thought of holding weight other than his own, but he would not deny his cousin.
He nodded in agreement. Castien handed him the rope, which Finn wrapped around his right forearm, in order to have a better grip.
Then Cas set off in the direction of his wife, hunching against the knifing rain and blustering gale.
The ship pitched to the left and Castien fell to his knees.
Finn’s arm felt as though it might tear away from his body.
He roared through the pain and kept hold of Castien’s rope with one arm, his other looped through the shroud.
Two small hands wrapped around the section of rope just above his fist and pulled, lessening just slightly the excruciating pain.
Castien got to his feet again. Made it to the mainmast, to which he clung for a time.
Finn’s chest heaved. He released the rope and sank to the deck, his back pressed against the mast. Lucianna kneeled next to him.
Her brown braid had turned black in the storm, and escaped pieces of her hair stuck to the sides of her face.
Thick droplets of water streamed over her porcelain skin, over her pink lips.
He thought of the kiss they had almost shared.
If they died today, it would be a tragedy that he had never kissed his wife.
“Are you well?” she asked.
A disbelieving laugh shook his chest at the ridiculous question.
“Never better,” he replied. “And yourself?”
She smiled, and it cut right through the cold chill that had seeped into his bones.
Her lips parted to reply right as the ship tipped again.
On instinct, Finn reached out and yanked Lucianna against his chest. They slid toward the port side of the ship.
He braced for the rope to catch him. It never did. Their lines must have snapped.
Finn’s back slammed against the curved wall.
He cried out in pain. A wave crashed over the side of the ship.
Water filled his mouth and he began to choke.
Still he held Lucianna to his chest. Her fingers clung to the collar of his coat, his into her low back.
Finn gasped for air as the ship rocked in the other direction.
He coughed, ducking his head over Lucianna’s shoulder as he did.
“Are you well?” he rasped against his wife’s ear, hoping he protected her from the brunt of the pain.
Freezing fingertips curled into the hair at the nape of his neck, making him shiver.
“Never better.”