The ship leans right. I collide with the quartermaster, who curses and dashes away, leaving me to lean against the side of the ship and rub my smarting head.
“Kas!” I shout.
My voice, like the voices of the many people struggling to keep us floating, is lost to the wind, but Kasmira’s lack of an answer still makes a lump of panic rise in my throat. She could be trying to divert the storm, pushing her body beyond its limits—using too much magic.
When necromancers walk into the Deadlands, we forfeit the chance for our spirits to go there when we die. Using our magic is a guarantee that someday, we just won’tbeanymore. Like Evander. But when an inventor or a weather mage pushes their magic too far, they could faint—or worse, their brains could bleed. They could die in the act of wielding their incredible power.
All magics have a price, each one terrible in its own way, but the weather mage’s cost seems especially cruel just now. If we lose our fearless captain,noneof us will make it far, let alone back to Karthia.
I can’t lose anyone else. Not here. The sea was supposed to save what’s left of me, not rip away the remaining pieces.
I stagger across the deck, making my way from the middle of the ship to the quarterdeck, hoping Kasmira is at the helm. The white-capped waves rear higher with each collision, sending a furious spray over the bow, making me slip far too often. I might as well have left my cloak in the room for all the good it’s doing me.
This is hopeless. The wind fights me with each step forward. Not that I’m going anywhere until I know Kasmira is all right, that she has things under control.
As thunder claps, I completely lose my footing. I clutch at the nothingness around me and land hard on my back. It takes a moment to suck air back into my lungs. A passing sailor—Dvora, I realize as I blink against the gale—hauls me to my feet.
“Looking for the captain? She’s that way!” The sea-hardened first mate points straight ahead, toward the mainmast, and beyond it, curtains of gray. Whatever I can or can’t see, I’m sure Dvora knows what she’s talking about.
When I turn to ask her how Kas is holding up so far, she’s already disappeared. I guess our captain must be safe for now. With my armsout for balance, I edge slowly forward, shuffling my feet like a child taking her first steps.
“What’s this?” Kasmira appears from behind the mast, gliding lithely over the slick boards like she’s been doing this all her life. She probably has. “No one’s drowning any sparrows on my watch.” With a hand on my back to steady me, she leads me to the partially covered threshold of a door leading belowdecks, where she’s been working her magic.
Once we’re settled on the damp floor, I throw my arms around her. “I was so worried.”
“You don’t say.” Kasmira pushes her dark braids over her shoulders and grins wryly, but the expression doesn’t mask her pain. “I’m trying to get us out of here, Sparrow, but I’ve never seen a storm like this. When I checked last, the skies were clear. These clouds sprang up out of nowhere—and now they seem to beeverywhere.”
Kasmira tilts her head skyward. She gazes up until only the whites of her deep gray eyes are showing, and I know she’s using her Sight to peer above the clouds. “This storm looks endless.”
I shiver. “That makes no sense, Kas.”
“I know.” She blinks at me as if coming out of a daze, then pulls something from her pocket. A compass, its needle spinning wildly, never settling. “But we’re getting close to Sarral, or we should be, anyway. Our best bet is to push through it at this point.”
Familiar panic crawls across my skin as I study the thunderheads crowding over our ship. I wish there were something I could do to see us safely to shore, but this is Kasmira’s fight, not mine. I command the dead. She commands the sky.
I grip her forearms. “Tell me what to do. I want to help.”
Kasmira smiles softly, running a finger down my cheek. “Thanks,Sparrow.” She settles herself deeper under the shelter of the staircase’s entryway. “Keep an eye on the crew for me. I’ll need all my focus to blow this storm back to wherever it came from.”
She sounds hollow, like a shadow of herself. “Kas, you’re scaring—”
“I’ll find a way to beat this,” she continues, raising her voice over me and the wind. “I will. But if the only way to save my crew is to give myself to this storm, then you can help by telling my mothers how much I love them. Daddy, too, the next time he’s visiting. Tell them...” She pauses, her voice wavering at the mention of the big, close-knit family I’ve always envied. “Tell them I wasn’t afraid.”
I hold her hand for a moment after she closes her eyes. “Be careful, danger queen. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”
I can’t bring myself to join the crew like Kasmira asked, even though she’s already slipped off to wherever her mind goes when she uses her magic. Above the clouds, most likely. Instead, I keep vigil at her side and watch her work. I’ll make sure that I never have to report the worst to Kasmira’s family.
She raises her right hand above her head, fingers drawn together, then drops it sharply. The winds quiet, but the ship still rocks with the force of heavy rain and waves, and thunder echoes across the swollen sea.
Kasmira brings her hands together, palms touching, the tops of her fingers level with her collarbone, then slowly draws them apart.
The rain softens, but lightning forks the sky. I hope she tackles that next.
Tucking my arms into my sodden cloak, I wish I could do something more than watch and wait as she groans under the strain of working her magic. In all the time I’ve known her, she’s neverattempted to do more than change the winds, or push away a little rain, and even that takes its toll on her after a while.
Blood trickles from her nose as the sky slowly begins to lighten, revealing the pale golden glow of early morning. Maybe only seconds are passing, but it feels like minute after minute is dragging by without Kasmira opening her eyes. I’m no good at waiting, no good at relying on someone else for rescue. The last time I felt this powerless, Evander was dangling limply in a Shade’s claws.
After the rains have calmed, I peek out of our shelter, glancing up toward the quarterdeck. Dvora waves to me from the helm as she steers us toward a ribbon of calmer sea—the most beautiful sight.
