On board, men rushed to the chains that bound them, but the chimeric effectively prevented that. Once a clever tactic, the cables now became a noose, and swabs leaped into the waters to free themselves from the drop. Their cries echoed over cracking timbers and groaning hulls as one by one, the twelve ships died.
Death rolls were terrifying to watch. Twelve death rolls were another thing entirely.
Free of the snare, theTouchstone’s sails billowed, and she cut through the sea, making toward us like an eager lover. It was dark, and I waved my chimeric-bright hands to guide her in. Buck tossed up the ropes, the longboat was caught, and all hands hauled us up to the main.
I barely felt the woolen blanket that was thrown over my shoulders, and as I followed Echo down to the surgeon’s pit, I took one last glance across the waters. Lanterns waved and smoke billowed, and I could hear the dreadedgong-gong-chunk-chunkfading away into the storm. My wylde incants had worked, and the barge had stabilized, and now the work began for them to rebuild on the bones of other ships and crews. That, in and of itself, was an unspeakable thought.
As I watched Bilgetown chug away, a bell chimed, and all hands ran to port. Through the darkness, another ship rode the waves toward us. She was as beautiful as she was broken. She had masts but no sail, doors instead of ports, and trailed what looked like a wooden catwalk in her wake. At the wheel, a man in a dark cloak, but I didn’t have to see him to know. It was theNil’hellyn, the mysterious, stolenNil’hellyn, with Gavriel Thanavar at the helm.
Sister.
Later, I tucked the wooden doll in my kit on the floor by my bunk. I prayed that the little girl had survived the chaos and that the woman who had grabbed her would rock her to sleep with sweet songs and lullabies. I also prayed that she would one day be able to chart a life for herself outside that dreadful place. Sometimes things worked out, and sometimes people escaped.
That night, I dreamed of bears and little girls with big, sad eyes, and my mother.
22. Days Like This
We sailed north out of the Sheets and made for the Isle of Haran, mooring in an unnamed bay for repairs. It was a mountainous cove, lush and tropical and all but hidden from the open sea. One bank was sand, however, and half theTouchstone’s hands were on the beach, including me, wading through the warm waters of the shore.
The other half was busy stripping theTouchstoneand exchanging many of her planks and staves with wood from theNil’hellyn.I wondered what could possibly be accomplished by such a task. Moreover, I wondered if theNil’hellynhad been the real goal at Bilgetown, and if so, was a cobbled wreck like that worth losing two seamages over? I didn’t want to think about Fahr.
No, I couldn’t really see anything that was worth losing the Crown Prince of Oversea for.
The suns were strong here in this little cove, and I felt my cheeks red and hot. I sloshed back to the beach, kicking up water as I went and enjoying the sensation between my toes. Unlike the seamages, I was a junior officer and normally wore boots on duty while they wore nothing. Bare feet could grip a deck or a shroud far better than any footwear, but boots brought with them authority and dignity and perfect naval pride.
Still, there was nothing like bare toes in warm sand.
My runescars were aching after theAuctorussave of Bilgetown, and once again, I felt a dread inside me. They were over my shoulders now and up past my knees. There was a patch begun on my right hip, and it reminded me of the pox. I’d never seen anyone with the pox recover, not even under my mother’s care, and I tried to force down the creeping tide of fear. Still, fear was a lingering companion, full of shadows and whispers anddread.
Neale and his mates were playing lop-ball with a corkanut, but I walked past them toward the tree line. They stopped playing to watch me go, and I fought the urge to fry their corkanut with chimeric. It wouldn’t make me any more popular with them, but then again, I doubted it would make me any less.
There were tents set up along the tree line, and one had flaps open to the beach. The smell of pipe smoke wafted on the breeze, and I knew Smoke, Echo, and Dev were inside. I needed to ask them about thisNil’hellynand about the games that were being played with crewmen’s lives.
As I trudged toward the tent, each step became hotter, angrier, and my fists were sparking as I neared that flap that served as a door. I stopped in my tracks as Thanavar stepped out.
Fog.
He’d ducked a little to avoid catching his hair on the hooks, and he hesitated when he saw me, a blur of emotions racing across his handsome face. But he straightened and glanced down at the chimeric sizzling from my fists.
“Aro’el?”
Fog. Fog. Fog.
“Captain,” I said stiffly.
“Mr. Buck said you saved Bilgetown with your spells.”
“Someone needed to,” I said, desperate to keep the fury from my voice. “There were children.”
The little girl with the big eyes. Her doll of wood in the canal.
“It was quick thinking,” he said. “And considerable skill.”
It was frustrating how easily he deflected the conversation, and I found my temper draining like sand through my fingers.
“How is he?” I asked after a moment.
“Strong and stubborn but not good,” he said. “We have a plan.”
