Kamira still wasn’t entirely convinced that the curse existed. She had assumed the crew had simply created an entirely outlandish and extreme scenario—not being able to step foot on land—to overcome some traumatic event. It was always easier to believe in something incomprehensible, pushing away a past event, than to face it head on. She could understand that. She would love for the memory of the night she murdered Tarkiin to shift into something whimsical and eccentric in her mind.
She feared it would haunt her forever.
But she now knew that wasn’t true. They really couldn’t sail into shore. However, the idea of a Sorceress being able to mold their words in order to bend fate didn’t make any sense. A Sorcerer’s powers lay in the elements alone, giving them the ability to change and alter their environment. They couldn’t bind someone's life force to a specific fate.
Could it be that this Sorceress was just that much more powerful than Kamira? She supposed that was probably the case. After all, she was still only learning.
Kamira closed her eyes and groaned; her mind was spiraling out of control.
She was ripped from her musings by Cariin, the boatswain’s sharp cry of “Sail ho!” from the foresail. Kamira looked up to see him pointing toward the bow of the ship. She whipped her head around, spotting a handful of lights glimmering in the distance. With each blink of her eyes, the lights multiplied until the entire skyline was illuminated. It wasn’t just one or two ships she was seeing, but an armada, and they were sailing directly toward theCursed Soul.
“All hands about the ship!” Cormac cried out, his command reverberating across the deck as he spun the ship's wheel hard to the left, sending the ship careening. Kamira was thrown off her feet, skidding across the deck and slamming into the port side railing with an agonizing thud. She bit back a curse as white-hot pain radiated through her body, and she screamed as the frigid waves rose quickly toward her. Instinctively, she threw out her arms and wrapped them around the railing just in time to save herself from being thrown overboard.
“Douse the lights!” another crew member yelled as Cormac spun the wheel back to the right, leveling the ship once again.
Kamira steadied herself and sprinted for the lanterns closest to her, sending out a blast of wind and extinguishing three at once. She spun to see three more still lit on the starboard side and extended a hand out to smother the flames with her sorcery, but just before she could, Doraan stumbled onto the deck.
“What’s happening?” he yelled.
“The light! Put it out!” Kamira howled, pointing to the lantern just beside him at the top of the steps. His dark brows drew together in confusion, but he soon noticed the hurried actions of the crew around him and turned, dousing the flame with one nimble motion.
She spotted the faint orange glow of another lantern perched several feet away. Doraan stumbled toward it, his foot catching on something hidden in shadow and he slumped against a nearby barrel. It was then she looked down and realized why he had been hopping. He only had one leg to stand on. He wasn’t wearing his wooden appendage.
Kamira rushed to his side, lifting his arm gently and draping it over her shoulder. With one swift breath, she blew out toward the final lantern, guiding it the entire way until the flickering flame became a puff of smoke. Her anxious gaze darted to Doraan, but his eyes were focused solely on Cormac at the helm.
“Come on,” she said and led him to the steps that ascended to the quarterdeck.
Doraan gripped the railing. “I can take it from here.”
She raised a brow in doubt. He relented with a sigh and leaned his weight into her as he said, “Fine, it would be faster if you helped anyway.”
Kamira only shook her head and snorted as they climbed the steps.
“Cormac, what's happening?” Doraan released Kamira and jumped to the helm, grabbing onto the wheel that Cormac held firm.
The Quartermaster nodded to the long line of lights illuminating the murky horizon. Doraan turned in the direction of Cormac’s gaze and his dark skin drained of its color. He stared, unmoving at the lights, eyes wide.
“Are…are those ships?” His voice was strained, barely above a whisper.
“A fleet,” Cormac stated.
Kamira noticed how Doraan’s throat bobbed, his entire body tensing. His lips drew into a thin line, and his jaw quivered, hinting at clenched teeth beneath the skin.
“There’s a small cay of rocks there.” Cormac pointed directly in front of them where a shadowed mass could barely be seen. “Jorne spotted it before sunset. If luck is on our side, they haven’t seen us and we can hide out there until they pass.”
Doraan’s breathing quickened, nostrils flaring as his entire body grew as taught as a bowstring.
“Doraan,” Cormac said and reached for him, but it was too late. Doraan was already hopping toward the steps, his movements hurried and frantic as he stumbled, grasping the railing hard as he went.
Kamira moved to help him but Cormac gripped her elbow, pulling her back. “Let him go.”
“What, why? Is he okay?”
“He needs to be alone right now. There is nothing we can do to help him.”
“Is he worried about the crew or worried the fleet is going to Aksahri for war?”
“Both, but he knows Akshari isn’t prepared for an attack, and the fact that we aren’t there makes it all the worse.”
