Her mind reeled.If Montverre’s frigate lay here, then history had shifted.Time had rewritten itself.
The Ring’s warmth pulsed through her suit pocket as if it breathed.As if it listened.But without theSentinel, would it even work?If she tried to cross time again, where would she emerge?And when?
Both elation and sorrow battled within her.Caleb had survived!But maybe he was lost to her forever.
No.She couldn’t accept that.She would try, whatever the cost.
Drawing the narrow bottle from her pocket, she popped the cork.The sea rushed in; the Ring flared with inner light.
Father… please be with me.Protect me.Help me find him.
She tipped the bottle.The Ring slid free, tumbling into her waiting palm.
It pulsed once—alive.
Then everything went white.
♥
A mighty roar quaked sea and sky, trembling the deck beneath Caleb’s boots.Pocketing the Ring, he spun toward the sound.Smoke curled upward from the crippled frigate off his starboard quarter.
“All hands down!”Alden’s voice thundered.
But Caleb didn’t dive.He stared straight at the incoming shot, daring it to strike him—to shatter his heart and end the torment within.He deserved it.He’d been distracted by Desi, so undone by her disappearance that he’d failed to notice Montverre’s wounded ship limping within range, her guns ready.
The next blast hit true.TheSentinelshuddered from truck to keelson.Dashing to the rail, Caleb leaned over the side.Spikes of shattered timber floated in the churn while a gaping wound smoked just beneath his cabin windows.Right where the tiller was housed.
He spun toward the helm.“Report!”
“Shot took her abaft the tiller, Captain!”Alden called from below.“She’s steering sluggish!”
Snapping his gaze to starboard, the wounded frigate drifted further away, no longer a threat as her crew struggled with broken yards and fallen sail.But to larboard, the other frigate bore down—sleek, vengeful, and full-sail fast.Too distant yet for a shot, but closing.If theSentinel’s tiller couldn’t be repaired, they would be as helpless as driftwood.Easy prey for the marquis.
“Alden, fetch a capstan bar.Get below and lash the tiller fast!And sound the bilge.Get that hole plugged!”
“Aye, Captain.”Alden seized a handful of men and leapt down the hatch.
“Shorty, test the helm.”
The helmsman strained against the whipstaff.His face darkened.“She’s tuggin’, Cap’n.Sluggish, but answerin’.”
“Keep her as steady as you can.”
Caleb’s eyes flicked to larboard again.The frigate loomed larger with every heartbeat.Logic told him to run, to make all sail and flee before the marquis’s wrath.But the thought soured in his gut.He’d never run from a fight.Not with God as his ally.Yet both his thoughts and his resolve turned muddy and murky within him.
Shewas gone, most likely forever.The pain scrambled his wits and his will.
“Liam!”he ordered.“Lay aloft and loose all sails!”
The bosun bellowed a string of commands.Blocks squealed, canvas cracked.Thenboom!
A warning shot churned the sea, yards from their beam.
Keg glared up.“We’s done for, Cap’n!With no steerin’, they’ll pound us straight t’ the depths!”
The wind shifted.The men in the tops struggled to readjust canvas, but the sails flapped like torn ghosts, devoid of spirit.
A rare numbness gobbled up Caleb’s mind.He had no idea what to do, what command to issue next.How to avoid the bloodshed and loss that rushed down upon them.The world dimmed, his thoughts collapsing into a hollow void.
