I glance between the brothers, their expressions fixed into various degrees of vexation. “Yes,” I say, “but I don’t know how to sail either.” The thought hadn’t crossed my mind, truthfully. I suppose I thought thevessel would miraculously direct itself through the storm, straight toward Eurus’ manor. Stupid.
“See?” Zephyrus waves a hand. “It would be better if someone who has experience with this sort of thing accompanied her. Notus, you have that sailer of yours—”
“But I don’t have my winds,” he snaps.
“Well, I don’t either!”
My attention shifts to the rain-shrouded harbor below. Its waters claw high. The vessels lurch, ramming against the docks.
One brother will not do, I realize. We four must brave the storm, the sea. The sooner we’re able to defeat Prince Balior and Lady Clarisse, the sooner we can return to help the townsfolk.
“We will all go,” I say. “Notus will man the boat. Zephyrus and I will help with the sails. And Boreas…”
The North Wind, who is drenched head to foot, glares at me with all the rancor of an irate kitten. I clear my throat. “Keep watch and have your spear ready.”
Moving toward the cliff-side stairs, I carefully pick my way down to the harbor, the Anemoi bringing up the rear. The roaring tide sucks at the slickened docks, and the shutters of the harbormaster’s cottage slam open and shut. Every so often, one of the waves manages to breach one of the creaking boats, dousing the contents inside.
As I scan our options for transportation, the North Wind strides to the end of the dock where the salt-encrusted boards sag underfoot. “How far away is this island?”
“Difficult to say,” I reply. None of these boats appear capable of withstanding the squall’s onslaught. They are too small, too wobbly, too decrepit. “It took Eurus less than an hour to fly there.”
“Which means it will take us hours yet,” Notus says, scrutinizing a nearby skiff. “And that is without sailing directly into the wind.”
“I assume you know where we’re going?” Boreas says to me dubiously.
“Of course.” Sort of.
Zephyrus paces up and down the docks, rubbing at his arms miserably.
“Over here,” the South Wind calls.
The sailboat he has selected boasts two masts and is surprisingly spacious above deck. Elegant script marks the wide stern:Ma femme.
After the brothers embark, Zephyrus offers his hand to help me aboard. Despite the racing of my heartbeat, I step onto the deck. While the Anemoi stow their weapons and bicker over who does what, I crouch near one of the masts and grab hold.
And we’re off. As soon as we leave the shelter of the harbor, the first roaring wave slaps us sideways. The vessel pitches. I scream, salt dousing my eyes as Notus adjusts the sails and orders Zephyrus to steer us into the wind.
The Bringer of Spring clutches the rudder in borderline hysteria. “I don’t know what that means!” Another wave sloshes onto the deck, and he yelps.
“Turn it to your left!” he shouts.
Deeper and deeper we venture into the storm. The sea grows so rough that half the time we are being smacked in some nameless direction. I cling to the mast with both arms, knees drawn to my chest and loafers soaked through. Twice, I nearly spew bile.
And all the while, I pray to the Master of Sea as lightning rends the sky in two and the wind builds to an ear-shattering wail. To our right, a rising wave collapses onto itself. It reforms moments later, having swelled taller than before. Terror cuts my heart clean through.
“Min!”
My head whips around. I blink through the sea spray as the South Wind climbs from below deck and strides toward one of the masts, a coil of rope slung over one shoulder. Of us four, he alone is able to maintain his balance as we’re pitched and tossed without end.
“Take hold of the rudder,” he orders me. “Zephyrus and I need to patch the holes in the sails.”
I glance upward, trying not to vomit. One sail has a large tear near the corner. The other, a few smaller nicks in the canvas.
I swipe at my wet face with frozen fingers. “What about Boreas?” I manage through chattering teeth. “He is stronger than me.”
“I need him to keep the sails open while we repair them.”
A reasonable request, I suppose.
