Page 105 of Valour

Charlotte turned to Winston, Peggy and Arnold. “Hester has wings when she sleeps.”

Peggy gave a little yelp. “That’s impossible.”

Winston’s jaw dropped. “What?! Wings?”

Charlotte laughed, the sound a croak in her parched throat. “How did you not notice? You shared a tent with her.”

“You know men, Charlotte. They cannot look to save their lives,” Hester said, a smirk on her face, eyes still closed.

Winston’s mouth flapped open and closed, indignation seeming to override any shock at the revelation.

Charlotte was overcome with giggles. “She can control the weather, too.”

Winston gasped in the most dramatic fashion Charlotte had ever witnessed. He pointed a finger at Hester. “You—but—how—YES!” His eyes glazed over, like he was rewriting everything he’d ever known about his captain. “Wow.” And then he shook himself. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always been a bit…other.”

Peggy nodded slowly. “You know, this makes a whole lot of sense.”

“You didn’t tell me, Charlotte!” Arnold stared at her in outrage. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Hester cracked an eye open. “Because she’s a good friend, Arnold. Do be quiet. I was having a lovely snooze.” She fixed Charlotte with her green eyes. “Are you well, Boss?”

“I suppose. My toes are throbbing.”

“Frostbite.”

The blood drained from Charlotte’s face, not that there was much in it to start with. “Frostbite? Do you think?”

“Here. This is the best thing for it.” Hester lashed the tiller and slid to the bottom of the boat, opposite Charlotte. She prised Charlotte’s boots off and tucked her feet under the layers of clothing to rest on the warmth of her stomach.

Charlotte stifled a groan, the warmth so welcome she could have wept.

“It takes a true friend to do this, doesn’t it, Winston?” Hester asked, looking up at the bosun.

“It does, Captain,” Winston said, hauling stiffly at the oar, eyes still glazed over. “Wow. The weather. Are you doing it now?”

“No. The magic ran out.”

Winston sat bolt upright on the bench, a flash of realisation crossing his face. “Wait—Septimus knew! That night the Intrepid sank—he wasn’t raving. You told him and not me?”

Hester sighed. “He guessed. I’ll explain later. I can barely string a sentence together.”

Charlotte suppressed the giggles rising again in her throat. “We’re all in a bit of a state, aren’t we?”

Peggy murmured her agreement. “Aye, Boss. I hardly know if I’m awake or dreaming this.”

Arnold cracked a small smile, frost lining his beard.

Hester looked out over the stern, checking all was well with the other boats. “A little bit, perhaps.”

Charlotte sucked in a breath. To hear Hester say that meant that things must be desperate. She attempted to wiggle her toes, but only sharp pain stabbed her feet. “The wind is getting up.”

“Good. We can hoist the sails and have a rest when it fills in.”

A heavy thud startled Charlotte. Winston had collapsed off the bench and lay still in the bottom of the boat.

Charlotte scrambled to her knees. “Is he alright? Oh, God.”

Hester was beside her instantly, feeling for a pulse in Winston’s neck. His eyelids fluttered.