My runescars lit up as Thanavar strode past me, Fahr at his heel.
“Damnations,” growled the captain, and he pulled a compass from his coat.
“Devilish bad timing, sir,” said the mate. “The tip from Flogger’s Bay will be useless.”
“And it delays Bilgetown by weeks.”
Even though the sky was dark, and the Sheets loomed darker still on the southern horizon, there was a gap where sunslight beamed down to the ocean. A gap in the Sheets meant a breach in the Dreadwall, and it was these breaches that had allowedRhi’Ahrships to sail between helms with ease. Fahr had told me that theTouchstoneclosed them as part of their hels ’n’ holy commission. I still didn’t know exactly how, but after thesummoning of waters from the Bay of Hodges and the dousing of fires along the docks, I had no doubt they could do anything they set their minds to. They had magik and seamanship in equal measure.
“Orders, sir?” called Smoke from the sunswheel.
The captain thought a long moment, and I tried not to notice that cursed smile playing with his lips. He slipped the compass back into his coat, and, for some reason, looked down at me.
“Have you ever seen the Dreadwall, Ensign Renn?”
Cold swept down from my ears, and I felt the weight of the crew at that moment, all eyes on me, accusing and dark.
I lifted my chin and clasped my hands behind my back.
“No, sir,” I said.
He turned back to the fore, studied the horizon.
“We have a duty,” said Thanavar over the roar of the sea. “But we also have a chaser. Once we’ve closed this gap, she can track what we need.”
“Even in the Sheets?” asked Fahr.
“Even in the Sheets. Isn’t that right, Ensign?”
Chasing in the Sheets sounded utterly horrible.
“Especially in the Sheets, sir,” I said.
Fahr rolled his eyes.
“Haul close and take us in, Mr. Fahr.”
The first mate turned to the wheels.
“Haul close, Mr. Oakum!” he called. “Take us in!”
Smoke threw his weight into the wheels, spinning them hand over hand over hand. TheTouchstoneyawed hard as the rudders turned her nose sou’east and the sails caught the wind. With each pitch of the ship, we rocked toward the narrow blue shaft of sunslit sky that was the gap.
Fahr leaned in to me.
“Especiallyin the Sheets,” he murmured. “Fogging idiot.”
“And you get to train me,” I said, all cockiness and pride.
“Throwing myself overboard at first light.”
“I’ll toss you a raft,” I said. “I believe Buck has a few left.”
He grinned and shook his head, then strode back toward the pup. I would never bed this runaway son of a king, no matter how fetching or fair. Still, we could spat and spar like the best of lovers, and the crew would boil with envy. I wouldn’t let politics on the Ship of Spells rattle me. I wouldn’t let myself care.
Stay cold, Smoke had said.Stay detached.I could do that better than most. But suns, I was more alive than I’d ever been, and it was all because of this ship and the man who loved her.
We made the gap by noon, and I remember vividly the sensation of leaving open waters for the corridor of unstable magik. Perhaps a quarter league wide, it was a passage due south made up of two parts, or “halls,” as they were called. The Hall of Sheets and the Hall of Silence. The Hall of Sheets was ominous, with typhoon storms and hurricane winds on either side, whereas the Hall of Silence cut through the ocean’s version of a desert, where the air was so heavy with magik that sailors drowned in their own breath. Fortunately, the gap itself boasted fair wind and smooth seas, but now, as we entered this weather-made canyon, I found my eyes lingering on the last slip of open water until all around us was storm.
