“What’s that?” I call out to the captain over the sound of the waves. I don’t recall seeing the ruins marked on my map back in the Sorrows. How many of these forgotten landmarks were disregarded after the war? What else is out there, waiting to be rediscovered?
Nikolas grimaces as he follows my line of sight, his shoulders tensing as he strains against the pull of the ocean.
“A remnant of the Empyrieos, I imagine—before the God War tore the world apart.”
“And it’s been left to fall to ruin?” Nyssa asks, her eyes wide with astonishment.
“Few are brave enough to live so deep in the Thalkans.”
I open my mouth to respond, but the ship lurches, flinging my body into the railing. I grip the wood tight while the captain’s words hang heavy in the air, mixing with the tension among the crew as we draw nearer to the cliffs.
Beneath us, the ship creaks and groans as it battles against the waves, and I turn my attention to the sailors shouting orders and pulling on ropes below, straining to keepThe Nightingaleon its course. We start to enter the mouth of the Sarathros, and the ship shudders as waves crash against its hull like blows from a blacksmith’s hammer. The wind howls, tearing at the sails and ripping my hair free from its braid. Salt water sprays my skin, stinging my eyes and leaving my lips parched.
“Hold on,” Nikolas warns, his voice tight. I eye him sidelong as he grunts at the helm, rolled-up sleeves revealing the straining muscles of his forearms as he holds the wheel steady.
“We’ll make it through?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light despite the sliver of apprehension widening within me. Regardless of my effort, the words come out strained, through gritted teeth. The air gets trapped in my lungs, my body unwilling to release it in case I end up overboard.
“The crew and I have ridden the Sarathros countless times before. The trick is all in keeping her steady.”
The confidence in his tone, lacking its usual roguish charm, soothes my concerns, and I release my pent-up breath, easing the burn in my chest.
Regardless, I maintain my death grip on the railing.
Tense moments crawl past while Nyssa and I battle to stay upright. My heart beats in my throat and I remain silent, not willing to risk distracting the captain from his task with nervous chatter. The ship lurches again, and the prow rises, angling toward the lightning bolt of blue sky between the craggy clifftops above us. My stomach bottoms out as we crest a rough wave and the ship slams back down. Seawater crashes over the deck, drenching us all in its salty spray.
Nyssa gasps as her hold on the railing slips, and I grab hold of herbefore she topples over. Her face has lost its usual warmth, taking on the pallid green I’ve become more familiar with over the past few days.
She starts to thank me, but then fixes me with a narrow-eyed glare. “I knew I should have stayed in bed.”
A slightly manic laugh bubbles up from my chest, sharpened by the roiling mix of fear and exhilaration. It’s silenced as another wave crashes into us, the force sending the ship tilting precariously.
And this time, it’s my grip that slips from the rail.
For a heartbeat, I feel the terrifying pull of the aether as I lurch backward. A hand clamps around my arm, steadying me before I lose my balance entirely. I glance up to see Nyssa, her knuckles white where they clutch me, her eyes wide with fear that mirrors my own.
The ship bucks again, and we both cling to the railing, the cold spray of salt water drenching us to the bone. The air is thick with shouts from the crew and the creaking groans of the vessel fighting against the water’s wrath. The Sarathros seems alive, its waves relentless, as if testing every ounce of strength we have.
Another wave surges, slamming the prow with a force that rattles through my chest, and my muscles ache as the wet chill seeps into my skin. Every second we’re upright feels like a minor victory. My gaze darts between Nyssa, the crew, and the focused captain at my side, my heart pounding at the possibility that one slip could mean disaster.
Finally, the narrow passage broadens, the cliffs lining the channel curl apart as they drop off toward sea level. The sea calms and the ship settles back into a steady flow, gliding through the gentle rise and fall of tamer waters. A cheer goes up among the crew, and the tension in my body washes away as a surge of energy flows through me. The triumph in the air is so tangible I can’t help but break into a smile.
“Are you okay?” I ask Nyssa, giving her wrist a gentle squeeze.
“I feel like Notos chewed me up and spat me out.”
“So, the usual, then?”
Her eyes narrow on my smirk, and she plants her hands on her hips like she’s about to give me a lecture. The wet hair plastered across her forehead and the gray tinge to her russet skin diminish the effect. “I’m going to go lie down before I add last night’s dinner to the seawaterdrenching your clothes.” She turns with her nose in the air, wobbling down the steps and back belowdecks.
Nikolas chuckles as we watch her go, much more relaxed than he was moments ago. “Not one for the sea, is she?”
“Apparently, the waterways of the Sorrows differ vastly from the ocean.”
The rush fades from my body, and a chill trembles up my spine as normal sensation returns. I rub my hands up and down my arms, trying to achieve some semblance of warmth. It doesn’t help much, considering I look like I’ve taken a bath fully clothed.
Before my eyes, the water drains from the fabric, pooling at my feet before snaking along the deck and over the side of the ship.
I watch, slack-jawed, before turning to the captain, now bone-dry and baffled.
