Hels ’n’ holy commission, indeed. This was madness.
“Sail!” cried Kit again. “Sail due south!”
Thanavar pulled his spyglass.
“TheEndorathil,” he growled and leaned over the rail. “She has survived theAuctorus!”
“Double time, seconds!” Fahr cried and turned to the crews. “Our fates are in your hands.”
“Will she attack?” I asked, my knees struggling to keep me upright. That spell had taken so much out of me, and I reached for the railing. “Surely, she stands to be trapped in the Silence, as do we.”
To my surprise, the captain stepped beside me and put a steadying hand on my elbow, offering the power of his body, giving me the strength to stand.
“There are few ships that wish theTouchstonesunk as much as theEndorathil,” he said. “And she is not afraid of the Silence. She has spinners of her own.”
There was a boom from behind as theEndorathilfired her guns. She was clearly out of range, and I barely noticed the balls splash into the sea astern.
“Shall we equip the pup with some chasers, sir?” called Fahr from the deck.
Thanavar thought a long moment, a furrow deep between his brows.
“Have Mr. Broom set up two.”
“Only two?” said Fahr.
“I don’t trust Ilvalour. Firing guns like this is futile.” He turned to the first mate. “He is baiting us. Keep the main chasers afore.”
“Aye, sir.”
First a whistle, then a roar, and suddenly a massive shape plunged from the sky, splashing off our starboard bow. Waves went up all around it, but finally, it surfaced, bobbing in the currents as we swept by. It was the transom of a ship. Just the transom, and I caught a glimpse of the name before she sank.
“Meradah Thenn,”said Thanavar. “Bright Sky.”
“Not anymore,” I said, and this time, I swore he laughed.
She had clearly been carried up to the clouds by the raging rush of water and shattered, her other pieces scattered across the Silence and then the Sheets. I never knew what happened to the second ship, but I came away with a far better understanding forthe power of the Dreadwall.
We spent the next several hours this way, outrunning both the Silence, which continued to close behind us at a terrifying speed, and theEndorathil, which peppered our wake with shot. Teams of waterspinners worked nonstop to keep us moving through the sweltering heat, and now, ahead of us, lightning forked over what was left of the gap. Soon, we’d be outrunning the Sheets, and while stormy seas were nothing new, Echo said the Sheets brought with them waves larger than mountains, whirlpools deeper than oceans, and stormshears that tore ships in two.
Because of this, Smoke had agreed to up our rations. Apparently, we needed nerve and rum in equal measure. Sleep was impossible with this state of constant alarm, so I sat under the fife rail one night, cupping my rum and lime, counting the cannonshot from theEndorathiland wishing we were back in open seas, free of weather and enemy cruisers. The skies were dark and heavy with rain, but through it all, I could see Thanavar on the pup, back turned, staring at the cannon fire in the stormy night sky.
Suns, what a puzzle he was. He could be harsh, and he could be ruthless, but he wasn’t the heartless, faceless, brutal enemy that I’d been taught to hate. Instead, he was a stoic, proud, elusive man who lived for magik, championed his crew, and confounded everything I thought I knew.
I’d never set my sights on a captain before. I was not that reckless because, on a ship, there was nowhere to run. No “fog and be gone before the suns.” And never, ever would I have considered bedding anenemy,but damnations if the thought didn’tdance around the edges of my imagination, whispering danger, teasing the rush.
It began to rain, and I lifted my face, let the warm drops caress my forehead and cheeks.
But what if it was more than simply danger, more than just therush? What if he wasn’t the enemy?
And what if, for once, I didn’t run?
I opened my eyes. Worley had crossed to the cathead along with his basket of birds. Once again, he pulled out a swift, double-checked the scroll at its leg, and tossed it into the sky. It disappeared northward into the gap.
“So, this is normal, then?” I asked.
“Hels’ hooks, Ensign Blue!” he gasped. “Are you certain you don’t have a bit of the veil yourself?”
“Sorry.” I wasn’t. “Does this always happen when you close these breaches?”
