Skye looked up herself. Even as she did so, it seemed that the day darkened. The breeze picked up.
“We should get back,” Robert said.
“We can’t leave him! We can’t leave the Hawk!” Skye protested.
“We won’t be leaving him. I’ll take you back, and he can come with the others in one of the longboats.”
A sudden, brilliant flash of lightning rent the sky. Thunder followed it like a clash of heavenly swords. “Come on!”
Robert dragged her to her feet. Skye whirled around as the other men rose, hurrying toward them.
The rain began to fall.
“We head to the ship in one boat!” Robert cried. He reached for Skye’s hand. A second bolt of lightning came, and thunder followed, and the very heavens seemed to open up upon them. “Come, Skye!” Robert grabbed her hand, and they started racing down the beach. Then suddenly she stopped, and she slammed hard against him. “Hawk!”
Skye pushed sodden tendrils of hair from her face to stare ahead of herself. He was indeed coming back. Running along before the main group of his men, he reached them. He spoke quickly to Robert. “They’re here all right, a full party of them. Logan, Teach, a fine baker’s dozen of others. We’ll move in tomorrow. For now, let’s hie from here. This storm promises to be fierce!”
He reached behind Robert, finding Skye’s hand and pulling her along. He lifted her and shoved her into one of the longboats. Robert and two men crawled in behind them and shoved them away from the shore.
The Hawk ignored Skye, rowing hard with the others. Lightning flashed, thunder cracked, and she flinched. At the shoreline she could see the waves swelling and the trees and bracken bending low to the strength of the wind. She shivered. In a matter of moments, it seemed, a true tempest had swirled upon them.
“Damn!” Robert swore. “I cannot hold her steady!”
“Pull together!” ordered the Hawk.
Skye turned around. She could see the ship, and it still seemed far ahead of them. The ferocity of the waves seemed to push them ever closer toward the shore.
“Take care of the rocks!” the Hawk cried, but he had barely voiced the words when a terrible rending sound was heard. Skye didn’t know what had happened at first. The sound seemed part of the horror of the storm, like the crack of thunder, like the high scream of the wind. “Signal the others!” the Hawk cried. Skye stared at him and saw the power he set to the oars, trying to hold the small boat steady. She looked to her feet. Water rushed in upon them. They had struck a rock. They were sinking, she realized.
“Fulton has seen us!” Robert cried. “He’s circling back.”
“Dive in, we’ll take less water, and I’ll stay with Skye to the last!” the Hawk shouted. “She cannot make it far in these skirts!”
“I can’t leave you—”
“You’ll drown us if you stay! It will come right, Robert, if we don’t take any more water! Tyler, Havensworth, dive now, and reach Fulton, and bring him around for us!”
Seeing the wisdom of his words, his men quickly obeyed his orders. Skye gasped, her hand coming quickly to her mouth, for it instantly seemed that the wild sea swallowed them over. Grayness prevailed.
Then she saw Robert’s head as he broke out of the waves. Then she saw the two other men, and that they could survive; they were swimming hard toward another boat.
She glanced down to her feet again. The water was rising high. She looked to the Hawk. He was staring at her.
“Ready?” he asked.
She lifted her chin with a smile of bravado. “I am afraid of the dark, not the water!” she told him. A slow smile curved into his features. He reached out to her.
“Come then, my love!”
She took his hand. The rescue boat was almost next to them, but Skye realized that they had to jump and swim—else risk the damaged boat crashing with the one that would save them. With her fingers entwined with the Hawk’s, she dove over the side.
She was instantly dragged down. The water was cold, heavy, and dark. Her lungs hurt and she tried to kick her way back to the surface. She was so very heavy.
There was a jerk upon her hand. The Hawk was dragging her up. Her face broke the surface. Still, she could scarce breathe. The rain beat against her savagely, the wind screamed and tore at her, stealing away what breath she could gasp in.
“Swim!” the Hawk commanded.
A giant wave crashed down upon her. Their hands were torn apart. Skye felt as if she were lifted by a giant icy hand and tossed about. She was heavy, so heavy! Wildly, desperately, she broke the pull of the sea.
