“Lean on me.” Christian extended his leg until she was able to hook an elbow over it. “There you go. Easy now.”
He held his leg still as she righted herself inch by inch. The mainmast groaned and rigging slapped against the yards above. She faltered and slid back a bit.
“Ignore it.” His words held her steady and a moment later, she stood again.
“Turn to Griff. Use his body as support and see if you can lift your leg toward me.”
Griff twisted so she could use his back. Leaning into him, she swallowed and inched her foot toward Christian. He’d gotten his hands to one side and grunted as he strained against his bindings to reach her.
“That’s it. A little closer.”
Her leg began to shake. Could she even lift it that high? New tears pricked at her eyes as her muscles burned. And then his hand closed around her ankle. Pulled her leg the rest of the way up. A moment later, he released her and the soft slice of rope filled the air.
After he freed himself, he cut her loose. Once her hands were released, she grabbed the ropes binding Griff and worked at the knot. He and Christian began freeing the other men and several crewmates raced to ready the two longboats.
Christian paused mid-slice at another man and glanced at her. “Get in a boat.”
She took a step toward it and froze.
The map.
“I’ll be right back.” She turned and sprinted to her cabin, ignoring his curse. When she passed the mainmast on the way, little cracks filled the air. The strain on it at this angle had to be incredible. They had precious little time left.
Flinging her door open, she let out a sharp gasp.
Water poured into the cabin through broken windows in a dark torrent, frothing against the floor. Her desk, fastened to the boards, hung suspended at an impossible angle. Climbing in over the door frame, she half-slipped half-scrambled toward her shelves. They lay empty. One shell had caught against a rumpled blanket above where the water circled in angry eddies. The rest...
Her gaze flew to the water, deepening by the second. They were down there somewhere. Splashing in, she dove under. Opening her eyes, she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.
Blast it.
She surfaced, sucking in a breath, and submerged again, her hands skimming across the tilted floor. At this angle, all items would be against the far wall. She came up once more, next to her floating chair. One more deep breath and she went back down, kicking hard against the rush of water. There. The wall.
She ran her fingers to where it met the floor and across the rubble there. A few of her smaller shells. Her rapier. Clothing and blankets twisted around her arms like seaweed trying to drag her down. Her lungs burned as bubbles escaped her nose. A little further.
Pushing aside something, maybe a drawer, she felt beneath it. Shapeless items. Her lack of oxygen made it too hard to focus on what she touched. She drew her knees under her to push up off the floor. And touched something hard. Something familiar. Her fingers closed around it and she shot to the surface.
“Damn it, Red. What the hell are you doing?” Christian’s bellow echoed off the water as she tried to stand upright.
Glancing at the conch in her hand, Samantha grinned and took a step toward him.
She felt it before she heard it.
A little tremble ran through the ship before a massive pop rent the air. The floor shifted beneath her and she grabbed the edge of the desk to steady herself as water swirled around her waist.
Time to get out.
She sloshed toward the door, where Christian frowned at her. “Don’t worry, I’m—”
A mighty groan filled the air followed by an earsplitting snap and her eyes widened. Not the—
Christian let out a shout and leaped backward. Something crashed against the door and slammed it shut. The jarring impact sent her reeling backward along with a torrent of wood shards and pain blazed across her back as the ceiling caved in.
The mainmast.
Chapter Nineteen
“Red!”
