The Conjurer's Riddle
Page 26
Like Charlotte and Linnet, he dropped to his knees. When he spoke, it was Linnet he addressed, though his eyes remained on the whirlpool.
“I heard the sound,” Jack said. “But I couldn’t believe it.”
“It just took an Imperial frigate,” Linnet said in a frighteningly empty voice. “You shouldn’t be here. Get back below.”
“I’d sooner jump into Hephaestus’s forge,” Jack said, his gaze shifting to Charlotte. “I’m not leaving you.”
Linnet made a sound of disgust. “You fool. Lachance will do everything he can to save us, but none of that will matter when you go flying off the deck.”
“Here.” Charlotte unfastened one of her harness cords from the deck. “Tie this around your waist.”
Jack took the cord and glanced at Linnet.
“It might hold both of you,” Linnet grimaced. “How would I know?”
“It’ll do.” Jack knotted the leather tight around his torso. “Now how is your pirate going to save us?”
“He is not my pirate,” Linnet snapped, though her eyes drifted to the ship’s wheel, where Lachance stood. “And you’ll thank me for not telling you what I suspect he’ll do. You might decide you’d rather try your luck by jumping overboard.”
“That’s a lovely sentiment.” Jack shifted his body toward Charlotte, but he didn’t put his arms around her until she leaned into him.
The Perseus began to swing to starboard.
Jack’s eyes narrowed, then went wide. He stared in horror at Lachance.
“He’s steering us into the maelstrom!”
“I told you you wouldn’t want to know.” Linnet’s stare had fixed on Lachance as well.
The captain’s focus was unwavering as he drove the Perseus toward its doom. His jaw clenched from wrestling with the wheel; the ship itself wanted to retreat when its captain forced it ahead.
“Linnet.” Jack’s arms tightened around Charlotte. “What in Hades is he doing? He’s going to kill us.”
Linnet didn’t answer. She would not look away from Lachance.
Charybdis roared and the Perseus bucked as it traversed the outer rim of the whirlpool. Lachance bore down on the wheel, fighting to keep the ship on course. The Perseus heaved and rolled to port. Charybdis grasped the ship, flinging it forward. Faster and faster they flew. The wind ripped tears from Charlotte’s eyes and the maelstrom whipped the Perseus till it ran over the waters at an impossible pace.
A shout rose over the wind’s screams and Charybdis’s howls. A single word, thrown into the sky by the ship’s captain.
“VOLONS!”
The ship’s masts split down the center with a mighty groan. The sails divided with the masts. Silver darts shot out from the fallen masts, carrying trails of twisted wire. The darts buried themselves in the far ends of the sails and the sails became stiff, ribbed by the rows of thick ropes of silver.
“Helm of Athene,” Jack breathed, his voice full of amazement.
Charlotte, too, was enthralled by the metamorphosis. She gasped as her stomach dropped, not from dread, but because the Perseus rose. Charlotte watched as the prow lifted up, pointing at the sun. Wind rushed beneath the sails and the Perseus abandoned the sea, soaring into the sky.
Acknowledgments
THE WRITING OF this book took place during one of the most trying, frightening years of my life. For several months I couldn’t write at all and feared I might never be healthy enough to write again. The compassion, encouragement, and tireless support of colleagues, friends, and family carried me through that storm and brought me safely to shore. I’m particularly indebted to the wonderful souls at Penguin Young Readers Group who made such gracious accommodations as I fought a long illness. Thank you especially to the incredible team at Philomel Books, for having faith in me and always offering a deep well of care and kindness. Jill Santopolo deserves all the chocolate on the planet for enduring the unpredictable creation of this book. My wonderful team of agents at InkWell Management provided counsel and much-needed reassurance. Thank you especially to Charlie Olsen, who helped me take the long view in the face of a difficult present. Friends literally and figuratively stood by me and held my hand when I most needed them. My deepest thanks to Casey Jarrin, David Levithan, Sandy London, Michelle Hodkin, Beth Revis, Jessica Spotswood, Marie Lu, Rachel Noggle, Conor Anderson and Brian Anderson. Eric Otremba helped me understand, endure, and eventually thrive in face of uncertainty. My parents gave love and shelter, shouldering burdens I could not. My brother Garth and his wife, Sharon, are sources of inspiration and great joy. The year of writing this novel was one of the most difficult I’ve experienced, but suffering is part of life’s journey. Two of my greatest supporters lost beloved family members this year and this novel is dedicated to the memory of Richard Pine’s mother, Harriette Pine, and Charlie Olsen’s father, Charles J. Olsen III.
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