“Slow breaths,” he instructs.
Then he shifts again, guiding me back until my legs find the rhythm of kicking again. I draw in another breath and begin to move, the water beneath me finally making sense again.
I can’t help myself, I glance at the legs beneath the surface. I didn’t expect to see a tail, but the sight still hurts. When I look back up, Sable is in front of me, his storm-grey eyes staring into mine.
“Why?” My words break, the salt in my throat still stinging and making it hard to speak.
“Because if there’s the slightest chance that you can help us, I can’t risk losing you.” He confesses, “And because I wasn’t going to let the sea take you on my watch.”
“Captain!” A voice carries from above, and I look up. The Noctis looms over us, dark and solid against the brightness ofthe sea. Her hull cuts a sharp line through the turquoise water, like she doesn’t belong in a place this bright.
It is only now that I see it.
The Sea of Renewal glows around us, sunlight breaking into shards as it hits the surface. The water sparkles, almost alive, threads of light swirling and folding into each other.
My gaze drifts back to Sable.
If he was wounded when he jumped in after me…
The thought settles heavily in my chest. Whatever it took from him, it won’t return. He took a risk for me. A real one.
Before I can say anything, something heavy splashes down beside us. A rope hits the water, sending ripples racing outward.
Sable keeps one firm arm around my waist while his other hand catches the line bobbing between us. The rope goes taut as he grips it, anchoring us both.
I hear movement above us, then the scrape of rope against wood. A ladder drops over the side of the ship, slapping against the hull before settling into the water beside us.
He shifts us closer to the ladder, positioning me between himself and it.
“Slow,” he says, then lifts me just enough for me to catch the rope and pull myself onto the first rung.
I climb, shaking, water streaming from my dress, the ladder swaying beneath me with every moment. The narrow planks are slick and tilt under my feet, forcing me to grip the rope tighter. I drag myself up one rung, then another, my limbs heavy and so awfully slow. My foot misses once, scraping hard against the hull. I take a moment and press my forehead to the thick rope, fighting the dizziness that threatens to take me under again.
I know he’d catch me if I slipped. His presence edges behind me the entire way up. Only when my hands close around the railing do I glance over my shoulder.
There he is, a few feet below me, fully clothed and just as drenched. Further down, on the surface of the cursed water, his beloved tricorn hat drifts, bobbing gently.
“Your hat—”
“I’ll organize a new one,” he says with a wink, leaving me speechless. This man is something else, unlike anyone I have met before.
A firm grip closes around my upper arm and pulls me over the railing. I land on my knees, crashing against the deck, the impact sending a sharp wave of pain through my body. I brace myself and lean against the hull, my breathing uneven and fast.
Sable is hauled up next, landing on his feet with great ease. Strangely, it’s silent around us, the rest of us staring at us in stunned disbelief. Murmurs and protests ripple through the crew. A pirate near the mast lets out a sharp breath, his jaw tightening as his gaze flickers between the captain and me. One of the gunners mutters something under his breath, too quiet to make out, but the man next to him answers with a curse.
No one returns to their work.
“What are y’all gawking at? Get back to your stations, savvy?” Sable barks.
A few men move, but only hesitantly. About half of the crew remains, their eyes fixed on me, and the hatred on them tells me exactly how they voted. The murmurs don’t die but rise into restless shouts.
“We did not vote for this!”
“You broke the code!”
“You saved a bloody siren!”
I lower my head, but every word lands anyway. I know this situation could shift into something much worse if Sable doesn’t calm them down soon. They are not done with me, not even the slightest. If anything, this has made it worse.
