He stands completely frozen for a moment and sighs. “Go save her. But know if something happens to you, I won’t be able to live with myself for allowing this.” He kisses me before returning to the captain and Oak to devise a plan.
“Maines,” I shout through the storm, “Stay with them and keep an eye on Oak. He listens to you. Start helping get people off the ship. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Where are we going to go?” Maines cautions.
“Trust Silas.” I move toward the narrow staircase. “I’ll find you when I can.”
She nods, yet her brows tighten in silent protest.
Rushing from the quarterdeck, the boat continues to sway. I barely maintain my balance on the slick deck. Flying down the narrow stairwell, I crash into the walls as the waves tip the boat. Frantic shouts echo from the deck above while I continue down the hallway toward Myah’s stable. Myah’s high-pitched neighing pierces my ears, and I fear her stomping may penetrate the wooden floors as I enter the room.
“Briar, what are you doing down here?” Rose shouts.
“You need to go right now. They are starting to evacuate the ship. The plan is to head for the nearby cliffs.”
Myah continues to neigh, her tramping becoming more frantic as the waves slap larger against the ship.
“Shhhh, Myah. It’s alright,” I try to calm her. “Rose, please take this bag and go to the others. They’re helping to get people off the ship and onto solid ground.”
Her stomping continues as I notice a halter and lead rope close by. I rush to grab it as Myah rears up, nearly kicking me, and I dodge her massive hooves.
“You can get her up on your own?” Rose questions.
“I can do this, Rose. Go find Silas. Now. He’s waiting.”
She grabs the bag filled with my mother’s crown and exits the stable in a flash.
“Be safe,” she calls, disappearing.
Her determined footsteps fade in the storm, and I say a silent prayer that she’s quick.
The raging wind bangs against the small window, like a creature of darkness desperately trying to break in. Putting on the halter, I rub Myah’s head for a second, hoping to calm her before we begin our ascent.
“We can do this, Myah. You need to trust me.” I stare into her beautiful eyes, but no calmness meets my gaze. “Let’s go.”
I place my head against her strong cheek. Her worried eyes meet mine, and we share a moment of silence before a strike of lightning pulls us back.
I tug on the lead as we make our way down the hallway. The shouts above have subsided, and I can only pray that most of the people above have moved somewhere safer. Considering the horse's weight, I quickly realize that we won’t be able to do the same. A clap of lightning echoes through the air, and Myah rears behind me with barely enough room to spare. The lead rope rips through my hand, taking my skin with it.
A loud crash distracts me, and I know we only have a few moments left to reach the deck and escape the ship. I hurry down the hallway, Myah close behind, as we ascend the stairs. The fear of being trampled weighs heavily on my mind with her at my back, so I remain constantly aware of Myah’s condition.
The top deck is deserted except for a fallen mast that now blocks most of the wooden area. I look around in every direction but only see darkness surrounding me and a soaring wall—not of shadows, but of rock—to my right. That suffocating feeling returns, making my stomach churn. I can feel my head starting to spin as the towering cliff closes in on us.
Keep it together. Count to ten.
Except now, I don’t think we have that time left. Something to the left catches my eye, and I swear I see a ship in the distance from the flicker of a few small candles. I turn back to Myah, who’s anxiously awaiting my lead.
“Myah, we are going to have to jump.”
She continues to stomp and neigh frantically as I lead her toward the edge.
“Can you do this, Myah? Can you jump?”
She rears and pulls against the rope in response as I try to move her toward the churning water, avoiding the edge where I need her to go. The black water below surges like a wide, open mouth, and I feel a shiver run down my spine. Its darkness threatens to swallow us whole if we enter, but either way, we are going in. As the seconds run out, I back us from the edge toward the middle, where the mast has fallen.
“If you won’t jump on your own, then we will have to go together.”
I grasp her long mane and swing my leg over her strong back, settling in as securely as possible. Her white body gleams in the darkness, like a beacon in the night.
