“We close?” he asks, his gaze turning more alert by the minute.
“Getting there,” I reply, focusing on the invisible pull tugging at my gut, though there’s nothing but clear skies and blue waters ahead. Still, the hum in the air’s undeniable. That’s what Rancour said is the determinant of the gateway, right? Ridley meets my eyes and nods. He hears it too.
I shout to the crew, “Tend your stations! For now, we’re on standby!”
Hands grip ropes tighter, eyes squint to the horizon, and I keep my hold firm on the wheel, gaze sweeping across the water. The hum grows louder, reverberating through the ship, setting my pulse to a quick, steady beat. We’re close, that much I know.
Time slinks by, each second loud as a heartbeat.
The wind slaps the sails like it wants to rip them off. The sun keeps shining at us. The sea remains blue.
Vinicola looks at the sky, his hand clutching his chest. He looks like he’s praying, but I don’t think that’s it. He’s waiting, his breath held as if he’s bracing for something monumental. We all are.
Zayan stands still next to me, looking ahead of us. Fabien works his jaw. Ridley’s wrinkles deepen.
The hum continues, a slow static that becomes more deafening with each passing moment. And then, the same moment I feel it drop down a pitch, something changes.
All wind stops.
One moment it is here, the next, nothing pushes us forward anymore like we’ve sailed into a dead calm. The sails slacken, the ship’s momentum waning as the once-strong wind vanishes as if stolen away. The humming, now a low, ominous vibration, pulses through the deck beneath our feet.
“What the…” I murmur, loosening my grip on the wheel.
The sea itself changes too. The once rolling waves flatten into an eerie stillness, the water so unnaturally calm, one could use it in order to see their reflection.
“We’re here,” Ridley mutters.
A ripple disturbs the mirror-like surface of the water ahead, expanding outward in perfect circles. It’s subtle at first, but then the water begins to churn, swirling as if some unseen force is stirring it from beneath.
Vinicola gasps, his hand finding his mouth. Zayan puts a hand on my waist, like he’s trying to reassure me that we’re in this together. Fabien clutches his jar so hard, his knuckles turn white.
I watch the transition with my eyes wide and my heart hammering in my chest.
To think, there was a time I’d stake my life on saying The Lady didn’t exist—how I fucking miss those days.
“There!” Vinicola’s voice wavers, arm outstretched, finger trembling as he points.
The water swells, and then something breaks through, slowly rising—a shape forming from the depths. Two cannon shots away, an island emerges, a perfect circle of sand without a single blade of grass or scrag of driftwood. And in the center, jutting out like a jagged tooth, stands a massive stone pillar.
I narrow my eyes, barely blinking. It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before—a dark, smooth stone that shimmers, shifting colors like it’s got a life of its own, bending the light in ways that almost don’t make sense. Reminds me of the jagged rocks that kept that shipwreck trapped back at the last gateway. Only, this one’s smooth, massive—almost as tall as our ship’s mast. It defies all damn reason.
Silence settles over the crew.
“Well… isn’t that a sight?” I drawl, keeping my tone steady. “Looks like the four of us are heading ashore, then. Get moving, everyone. You’ll secure the ship while we’re gone.”
“We’ll need to row over,” Fabien cuts in.
I glance his way, sparing him just enough acknowledgment. The nerve he showed last time in front of the crew—mycrew—still gnaws at me, so I don’t bother dulling the bite in my voice.
“Astounding insight, Fabien,” I reply, dry as driftwood. “Vinicola, Zayan—get the boats lowered. And Fabien, I take it you’ll be joining us this time? Done hiding out in the armory?”
Fabien’s jaw clenches, working side to side before he manages a reply. “Yeah. I’m coming.” His tone’s so clipped it’s almost satisfying—he’s uncomfortable, and he knows damn well why.
Vinicola and Zayan are already at the ropes, lowering the longboats as we approach.
“Didn’t you say we all needed to be on top of our game to get this done?” I shoot over my shoulder at Fabien, the expectation clear in my voice.
“Don’t make no mistake, Captain,” he grunts in response. “I am always on top of my game.”
