“You’re not going near that thing.”
“I have to. The shell says the binding won’t crack unless it hears the full song. If I stay back here, it will only hear… echoes.”
“You can sing from right here quite beautifully, thanks,” I snapped.
She gave me a look. “Bash.”
I hated that I understood. Hated that she was right. Hated that my love for her meant letting her stand at the edge of oblivion with a cursed shell in her hands.
“You’re not going alone,” I said. “If you’re at the rail, I’m with you.”
“Obviously.” She flashed me a quick, wild smile that hurt to look at.
Morwenna stepped closer. “Careful, girl. The more you give it, the more it will take. The line between calling and becoming is thinner than you think.”
“I’ll worry about that after we’re not all dead,” Rose said. “Dilly, can you get below and help with the pumps?”
Dilly swallowed hard. “But—”
“You are no use to me if you’re drowning,” Rose said, gentler than her words. “Go.”
We all understood the command. It was from the lips of a captain, but also a friend. Dilly would have stayed on deck and recorded every small detail. Rose couldn’t put everyone she loved below deck, but Dilly, she could try to save.
Understanding, Dilly nodded, eyes shining, and scrambled for the hatch.
The deck pitched, sharp and sudden. A wave crashed over the bow, nearly knocking us from our feet. I grabbed Rose, pulling her against me as seawater tore at our legs.
“Kit! Get below!” Val roared somewhere to port. “Now, you idiot!”
I’d never heard that sort of fear in Val’s voice. She laughed in death’s face and drank with danger, but the wildness in her eyes wasn’t that of a hardened sailor. That fear was born of something deeper, something ancient.
It was love.
I caught a glimpse of the boy near the midships hatch, pale and wide-eyed, clutching the ragged coat we’d scrounged for him since pulling him out of Newgate. He hesitated at the shouted order—eyes flicking from the dark gap below to the raging sea.
“Go!” I barked.
He bolted for the hatch.
Another impact rocked us. I heard the sickening crack of wood—deeper this time. Not just hull damage. Something structural.
“Water’s rising fast!” a voice screamed from below. “We can’t hold her much longer!”
We didn’t have time.
“Bash,” Rose said urgently. “We’re running out of ships.”
“Then let’s make this count.”
We staggered toward the starboard rail. The Leviathan’s massive head slid alongside us, that golden eye rolling to fix on the glowing shell in Rose’s hand. For a heartbeat, everything narrowed to that gaze—the ancient hunger in it, the terrible, alien intelligence.
“Ready the starboard battery!” Val yelled. “On my mark!”
“On your mark!” echoed the crew, voices shaking but holding.
Rose stepped up to the rail. I wrapped an arm around her waist from behind, bracing us both.
“Don’t fall,” I muttered.
