Casper could smell the storm in the air.
Even if the dark, swirling clouds in the distance didn’t give it away, the sharp tang of moisture and charged air alerted his senses to the coming gale. His crew bustled about the ship, battening down hatches and reefing the sails to prepare. Already the wind was picking up speed, and Casper felt in his bones that the storm would be a powerful one. He adjusted the helm, turning the prow so that it faced into the wind.
“ThePetrelis ready, sir,” Jem reported, coming to stand beside him. “What are your orders?”
“We’ll remain as close to the breach as possible. Do we have men at the oars?”
“Longest John and John Paul both have a rowing crew at the ready. Richards has volunteered to keep watch in the nest as long as the weather holds.”
Casper frowned. “Have him come down at the first sign of lightning.”
“Yes, sir. Anything else?”
“I want anyone who isn’t otherwise needed to be keeping a close watch on the breach. I don’t want anyone else getting past us.”
Jem looked up at the sky. “You really think it will open up again this soon?”
Casper tapped the side of his nose. “I can smell it.” The wind gusted, and he could hear it howling and moaning through the distant rocks. “And hear it. They’ll be coming through tonight, and I intend to be here to greet them.”
The angry clouds grew darker and heavier, making it impossible to tell just when the evening faded into night. The waves buffeted thePetrelfrom below and the wind battered from above, and Casper’s crew worked tirelessly through the night to keep the ship from capsizing into the icy water. Lightning flashed through the sky in brilliant arcs and stabbed down to the water with branching forks, followed each time by the terrible, rolling drum of thunder. The rain was cold and sharp as it pelted their faces, and for once Casper was glad for the curse that kept his semi-corporeal body from feeling fully.
The storm continued to rage throughout the night, crescendoing to a peak sometime around the midnight hour. Casper struggled at the helm, determined to keep thePetrelfrom straying too far off course, when the cry he had been waiting for finally reached his ears.
“Ship off the port bow!”
Casper frowned. By his calculations, any ship coming through the breach should be approaching from either straight ahead or on the starboard side.
How could they have gotten through and past us that quickly?
“She’s lit distress signals!” Jem’s voice carried over the roar of the wind. “I think it’s a fishing boat, Captain.”
Casper lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the blinding rain as he scanned the dark waters. Sure enough, in the distance a small fishing boat was being tossed about by the violent waves. Red lights flashed in alternating patterns of short and long, communicating the universal request for assistance.
“Should we assist?”
From the other side of thePetrelcame another call. “The breach!”
Casper hesitated. Helping the fishermen would mean letting the smugglers slip away again, and they were so close. A bright flash of lightning and deafening crack followed by distant cries made up his mind for him. He pulled hard at the helm, turning the port.
“Captain, they’ve been stuck! They’re going down.”
“Tell the men to row!” He barked. “Jem and Short John, ready the longboats.”
His orders were relayed over the howling of the wind, and the crew worked as one. The fishing boat was slowly listing to the side as she sank. Amongst the distressed cries of the fishermen, Casper could hear the sound of singing—a sign that amongst the crew there was at least one fae capable of maintaining a clear head in the face of emergency. The longboats were lowered, with Casper taking command of one and Jem in the other.
They battled the waves as they approached the sinking ship, and the sound of singing grew louder. From what Casper could tell, the fishermen were gathering together at the highest pointof the vessel, clinging to what little security they could. Casper knew the moment they had been spotted, as the eyes of one of the fae grew large with fright. He pointed and shrieked, “Death has come!”
“Not if I can help it,” Casper called back, keeping his voice calm and pleasant. “We mean you no harm; we’re here to help.”
“Help carry us down to the fathomless depths!” a second, shriller voice joined in.
Jem leaned to the side and started swinging around a large hook tied to a sturdy rope. “It’s not really a good night for diving,” he answered as he let the hook fly. It sailed up and over the railing of the fishing boat, wrapping around it several times. “Almost as bad as it is for fishing.”
Several of the fae tripped over themselves as they tried to back away quickly from the rope. Casper’s jaw tensed. “We just want to help you.”
A lone figure approached the railing and looked over. He was shorter than most of the others but carried himself with the confidence of authority. His thick gray beard reached nearly to his chest. “Who are you?”
“My name is Casperion Helmrud.”
