“Batten down the hatches!” Skylights yells as the crew rush around and tighten everything up even more. They’d been working steadily ever since we set sail from the Fairy Village, and the deck looks clearer than I’ve ever seen it. Even the rowboats are lashed securely to the deck with enough rope to make them look like spider meals, saved for later.
“Into the cabin, lass!” Hook cries over the sudden boom of thunder.
I climb the stairs and stand at the railing, watching as the waves begin to grow almost exponentially.
“We’re just teasing the edge of it now. We’ll be in the thick of it in no time. I need you safe.” He walks me to his quarters and pulls me inside.
“How bad is it going to be? Bill said it’s like passing through the eyewall of a hurricane.”
“It’s that, but it lasts far longer than any hurricane I’ve ever known. We have to navigate it as if it’s a piece of land jutting from the water, sharp rocks and submerged dangers all throughout.”
My mouth goes dry. “It’s a minefield.”
“Stay here. It’s going to be a rough time, so I brought some lines in here for you.” He points to rope tied to the desk that’s already bolted into the deck. “They’ll hold. I can tie you—”
“I’m all right.” I grab onto one of the ropes. “See? No need to tie me up. I’ll be good. I promise.”
“Lass, you haven’t been good for a single moment from the second I met you.” He gives me his devilish smirk, the one that melts my insides. “Just another reason to love you, I suppose.” With that he’s back out the door and slamming it shut.
My heart fractures a little at his words, the crack running deep. He onlythinkshe loves me. I sit heavily on the desk. Why does this have to hurt so much? I rub my temples. It’s a habit now, from the constant ache I’d felt for so long. But the ache inside me is a million times worse, because it’s one that can never be repaired.
I love James Hook. There’s no way around it. Not now. But his love for me isn’t the same; it isn’treal. There’s that word again, the one that’s haunted me from the moment I left my dorm room. It’s still a thorn in my side, one that’s being twisted slowly and surely by the knowledge that I was never meant to be Hook’s love.
The ship rocks more violently, a wave crashing against the hull and splashing along the back windows. I take one of the ropes and wrap it around my waist, then tie it in what Widow calls a “square knot,” though Starkey refers to it as an “idiot’s knot.” Some pirates are knot snobs, I’ve learned.
I leave enough slack so I can go to the door and peek out. Only Smee and Hook are visible as fat drops of rain begin to fall and lightning streaks the sky.
Smee glances back at me, and for the first time, I see worry in his eyes.
Hook assured me that this was the quickest, safest way to take care of Peter and save the island, but now I’m beginning to wonder if he’s taking a bigger risk than necessary by going through the storm. Then again, the island has been growing wilder at each full moon. Even Peter admitted that. The Spinner said the island would destroy everyone on it unless we could restore the balance—though I’m still not entirely sure what that means. If going through the Neverstorm means we can save more lives, then I need to trust in Hook and let him do his work. He knows what he’s doing, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry.
I close the door as the rain grows heavier, pounding on the ship and sending streams of water down the windows at the back of the cabin. It’s growing darker still, the waves more violent as the sea crashes around us. Nervous energy balls in my gut, and I return to the door, cracking it and watching as Hook turns the wheel, the rain drenching him as he yells orders over the noise.
A streak of lighting splits the sky ahead of us, blinding me for a moment, and then the thunder follows, rolling through me and reminding me just how small we are. A tiny ship on a vast ocean doing battle with forces that were here eons before us.
I brace myself against the timbers as the ship lists far to the side. My stomach does a flip, but then it rights itself, and we hurtle down a steep wave before hitting the bottom and rising up the other side. A wall of water shoots up from the front of the ship and falls back on us. I close the door, but water seeps in beneath it.
Now I’m leaning forward against the pull of gravity, the Jolly Roger struggling up the next big wave as the wind roars.
If Shiner’s not barfing her guts out right now, I’ll be shocked. All this rolling and wobbling has my stomach churning, and I thought I’d gotten used to being at sea.
The thunder grows louder, and my anxiety rises. I know Hook is a master sailor, but this storm is even worse than I’d expected. It doesn’t let up. The wind keeps howling and the rain is falling so hard that it sounds like someone is beating at the windows, the doors, even the deck over my head. Hundreds of fists pounding so loud that I can’t hear anything else as the ship careens up and down mountainous waves.
Holding onto the timber around the door, I try to keep to my feet as the ship continues its chaotic voyage through the Neverstorm. Anxiety and fear bite at me like dogs on my heels, but I trust Hook to get us through. Even as long minutes pass, feeding into what feels like hours. The rain and the wind don’t let up, and my muscles start to burn from the strain of fighting the push and pull of the waves.
I stumble to the table and grab onto another rope, looping it around my wrist and using it to counterbalance the push and pull of the ship. My wings beat, and I wonder if they help me with balance, something like how a cat’s tail does. But when the ship rolls unexpectedly to the right, I go flying into the bed. So, no, my balance is still crap.
When I free myself from the tangle of the blanket, I lurch to the door and try to look again, but it’s raining too hard. I can’t see anything at all, not even when lighting cuts the sky in half and seems to strike the ocean right in front of the ship.
I slam the door, worry hitting me right in the gut. How is Hook surviving out there in this storm? Will he be okay? What if he needs help? He can handle this, right? This isliterallyin his wheelhouse.
Even so, I can’t shake my fear. I return to the table and tie the pieces of rope together, chaining them to make one long line. I tie it around my waist nice and tight with my ‘idiot’s knot’ then open the door.
The rain soaks through me almost instantly, but I push through it and onto the deck.
“James!” I call for him.
Only thunder answers. I push forward, then have to scramble back and hold onto the doorframe as the Jolly Roger crests a wave and starts racing down the other side. Something goes flying past me—whatever it was now lost to the raging storm. I hold on, my knuckles going white as wind and water whip my face.
