“Why do you serve a-sea, then? You could do anything landside.”
“Honor to serve with a captain like Thanavar,” she said. “He has heart of harpiar.”
I stared at her. Scaly, beaked, clawed, and daunting, she was also bold, strong, skilled, and fierce.
“But he has cursed us,” she said. “He should not have keeled his steward before the Sheets. Bad things happen in the Sheets.”
And she wrapped her leathery wings around herself and rolled over, effectively ending our chinwag.
I flopped back into my bunk. The sea was furious tonight and had been since Forgeset. TheTouchstonehad turned her sails due south, and the wind had taken us back into the Sheets. We’d fought theEndorathiland theTemplemorein the Hall of Sheets. We’d come upon Bilgetown in the outer rim of the Sheets. Fahr had been shot in the Sheets. Kit was right. Bad things happened here.
In all my time at sea, I’m not sure I ever remembered a sea so rough. The waves were larger than the ship herself. We crested them to a count of ten, then plunged into the trough like a stone, only to rise and plunge and rise and plunge again. We had beenat it for hours, and more than a few seamages heaved over the side that night.
Through the roar of the waves and the howl of the wind, I could hear hands shouting as breakers poured in from the main, and cannons rumbled on gundecks above as men worked to keep them secure. I wasn’t surprised, then, when I heard the pips and Smoke’s voice on the bullhorn, calling all hands to the starboard rail.
“Come on,” I barked at Kit. “All hands!”
“Bad night,” she moaned as she crawled out of her berth. “Very bad.”
Bare feet had better grip, so I left my boots, snatched my oily, and headed up.
It was hard to push open the hatch, and when I did, we were almost blown back down by the sea. I struggled to my feet and staggered up onto the deck.
Water poured over the bulwarks from huge, white-crested waves, and the pitching deck slid barrels, ropes, and crates from side to side. Overhead, lines snapped and re-coiled, twisting like serpents, while canvas thundered and split.
All hands assembled, some climbing the rigs, some lashing jollies and battening hatches from the storm’s surge, while others ferried block and tackle to safety in the hold. I didn’t have a station here. I wasn’t even captain’s steward, and while I could have stayed below to make sure his possessions were safe, I knew that if I could help theTouchstonesurvive the night, he’d overlook the loss of linens, maps, and books.
The sky was roiling in shades of gray, and the wind raged like a furious chorus, blending sinister snarls with shrill screams. Waves attacked from all sides, crests and troughs coming from fore and windward, so that the masts dipped dangerously lee. I could see riggers climbing the nets with orders to break sail and turn our bow close to the wind.
“Secure the lifelines!” snapped Smoke. “Kit, take the riggers. Blue, fore and aft!”
Kithriit nodded swiftly, and so did I. I knew what to do, though I’d never done it. It was the job of a powder monk, cabin boy, or even junior midshipmage, but on a night like tonight, a flying rig magister and a chimeric chaser would suffice. Together, we splashed through the watery deck to the rig box, and I threw open the hatch. Kit grabbed a set of lines in her talons and sprang into the air, fighting the gusts with each beat of her powerful wings. I grabbed a second set and bolted across the deck, but a wave breached across the bulwark, and I crashed to the planks. No bolting. Not in this. I pushed myself up and looked for a midline.
There!The carpenters had already strung one between the masts, so I moved along it, bare feet slipping along the boards. I began tying off each rope to the midline. Once secured, I waited for the windward yaw so I could slide with it and tie off the crew along the port side. Then, I waited for a lee yaw so I could slide back amidships. It was a dance, I reckoned. A lethal dance of weather and chance.
I paused at the capstan and wiped the rain from my eyes, looking out onto the sea. There were whitecaps taller than giants, troughs deeper than valleys, and waterspouts that twisted up to the sky. Stormshears could slice a ship in two if they struck, and I counted three a half league from our bow.
A storm is the sea chasing her lover, the sky
I laid a hand on the capstan.
“You keep us safe,” I said to her. “We’ll keep you safe, too.”
No peace until home. Keep him safe until home
She loved him so much.
Keep safe, child of the north.
“I will,Touchstone,” I said. But I knew it was a lie. There was no way I could keep anyone safe in this storm, despite thechimeric.
The wind was whistling now, but I heard the bosun’s pipe and Smoke’s voice over the horn.
“Waterspinners on deck!” he shouted. “Why do we still have sail?”
“Mizzentop is stuck!” Buck bellowed back.
I glanced aft. The mizzen sails were mostly tied, but the top gallants billowed and dragged. I could see Kit and her men struggling with them as they pitched between their hands.
