by Bex Hogan
‘You fight well; Grace has done a good job. But to defeat the Captain you’ll need to be faster. Smoother. We should practise while we can.’
‘I seem to remember I kicked your ass back at the palace.’
He chuckles to himself. ‘True. But I wasn’t really trying to hurt you. And there’s always room for improvement.’
I blink, the horrible reality of what lies ahead intruding on my temporary happiness. Bronn still believes we can survive this, which is comforting. But to do so I’ll have to confront and kill my father.
‘You think I’m capable?’ It’s barely a whisper.
‘I know you are.’
And when I reach my hand down into the darkness he takes it firmly in his and doesn’t let go till sleep delivers us from our burdens.
The voyage towards the West takes several weeks. It’s been days since we saw another vessel, our route taking us far away from land, fishing channels or trading lanes. But we’ve made no effort to hide, leaving breadcrumbs for my father to find and pick up our trail. And he will. Sea vultures have been dispatched carrying messages we want him to intercept. The trick is to be far enough from the invisible divide not to arouse his suspicions – but close enough that we won’t be destroyed before we can draw him into Western waters. But between them Harley and Bronn seem to have a good plan.
We’ve been lucky with the elements. A few storms, but nothing the ship couldn’t weather, even in her far from perfect state. The only brief moment of possible danger was when we encountered a giant serpentshark off our port bow. Though our ship is larger than their usual prey, you can never underestimate the damage a serpentshark can inflict. Fortunately it had no interest in us and was content to swim in our wake for a time before disappearing once more into the secret world beneath the waves. I was far happier to see the swirlseals playing on the edge of a small whirlpool, spinning in the gentle downdraught before diving for fish. They’re notoriously shy and not often seen, so I treasured the chance to watch their magical dance.
Hours have been spent training with Bronn. Every day we’ve sparred, occasionally joined by Grace, and he’s shown me how to use my speed to compensate for my slight build. All our work has paid off. My reflexes are quicker, my body nimbler, and as a bonus I’m now proficient with a blade in each hand.
Now that we’re as close to Western waters as we want to be without my father in pursuit, it’s simply a matter of waiting. We’ve been sailing in gentle circles for three days with no sign of him. Once I thought I saw Talon hovering above us, but it’s possible I was mistaken. Everyone’s on edge, knowing we’re in the eye of the storm and anticipating the carnage. But we’re well prepared and just need to hold our nerve.
Bronn and I have been sparring as usual, only today we’ve kept to my cabin, wanting to be alone. We’ve grown closer over the past few weeks, the hours spent together restoring the intimacy of our youth, and at times I’ve laughed so much I’ve almost forgotten our plight. At this point I don’t need to learn anything more, but we both know our time is running out and we train mostly as an excuse to be together.
It’s difficult to move much in the confined space, but we’re making do, locked in a long exchange of blows. We’re both competitive with each other, not wanting to be the one to lose, and today I use the lack of space to my advantage, backing him towards the wall until he reaches my hammock and falls into it. I laugh, but he’s already grabbed me and pulled me with him so that in an instant I’m lying on top of him.
Now we both laugh, but then it doesn’t seem funny any more. We’re breathing hard from our exertion; I can feel his chest rising next to mine. I drink in his beautiful face, so lived-in, so familiar. I’ve loved him for ever and I’m tired of pretending otherwise.
I kiss him. His lips are soft, his breath mingling with mine, and we’re both hesitant, knowing we shouldn’t, knowing we will, and then he’s kissing me back harder, one hand in my hair, the other on my waist, and I melt into him.
He pulls away, holding my face in his hands, looking at me with such tenderness it hurts. ‘I love you.’ It comes out as a promise.
‘I love you.’
Vows of our own, ones that mean far more than any binding ceremony.
And then we’re kissing again, our bodies entwining with the urgency of two people who know they’re on the eve of death and want to make every last second count. In this moment there is only the warmth of his skin, the taste of his lips, and the sense of belonging I’ve sought my whole life.
Then the ship lurches violently and we almost fall out of the hammock. The spell that had entranced us shatters. That was our time. It’s over.
‘What was that?’ I’m sitting up, adrenaline surging through my veins.
‘We just veered hard to starboard. I think we have company.’
We look at each other for a moment, knowing this is it, and I see my own sorrow reflected in his eyes. He presses a deep kiss on to my forehead.
‘Ready?’
I’m not. I don’t want to die, don’t want to lose this man I love so much, don’t want to condemn these sailors to a watery grave. But stronger than all those things is my determination to do what’s right; I cannot let my father continue his massacre of the Eastern Isles.
I meet Bronn’s eyes, fire stirring in my belly, and nod.
‘Let’s end this.’
The crew are frantically preparing for our flight, dropping full sails, and the moment Harley sees us appear on deck, she waves us over to the helm. Despite our circumstances, she has a twinkle in her eye as she gives us a knowing wink.
‘Making the most of your final day, are you?’
My blush must be visible because she holds her hands up and says, ‘Not judging, after all your prince is devoted to that commander. He’ll not be plundering your treasure any time soon.’ She laughs at her own coarse joke, but when I don’t join in, mortified beyond words, she puts her hand on my shoulder. ‘Your secrets are safe with me. Probably be at the bottom of the ocean soon enough anyway. Don’t think the fish will care too much.’
Her teasing over, she turns to Bronn. ‘All right, let’s see what this girl’s got.’
I’m not needed here and search for Rynce, but before I can find him my eyes fall on the Maiden looming in the distance and heading directly towards us. From this vantage point her fearsome reputation makes sense in a way it never did before. She’s massive, her black sails an ominous threat on the horizon as she seems to gain on us every passing minute.
But I also never appreciated how beautiful she is. The way she glides through the water, like a sea vulture soaring through the air, is breathtaking. She was my home and I’m struck by a strange sense of pride at her approach. And an unexpected sense of longing.
Grace snaps me out of my reverie. ‘They’re closing in on us too quickly. At this rate they’ll be in firing range within the hour.’
I look at her in surprise. ‘That soon?’ I’d never realised she could fire from that far away. ‘Will we even be in Western waters by then?’
Grace presses her lips tight together. ‘We’d better be. If we want to last more than five minutes.’
Rynce finds me, unrolling charts on the top of a barrel for us to study. They’re very old, taken from the room in Torin’s castle. No one really knows how accurate they are, but they’re the best we’ve got.
I look at the mark several miles over the border, the place where Torin will meet us to finish what we’ve started. It suddenly seems a long way away.
‘Will we make it that far?’ I ask Rynce.
‘Harley will get us as deep into Western waters as she can,’ is all he says. Not really an answer. But before I can push it he’s already turned to Grace, pointing to the Western island closest to the border. ‘What land is this?’
‘The Eighth Isle,’ she says, and seems pleased at his genuine interest. ‘It’s the smallest, least populated of all the Western Isles.’
I leave them talking. There’s no point
thinking about islands I won’t live to see. It may be the closest land, but it’s still miles away.
We’re making good speed, despite the wind direction being unfavourable. The ship’s tacking, zigzagging through the waters to reach our destination, and all the while my father maintains his pursuit.
We keep our lead for some time, but the gap continues to close. Nerves are pressing in on me. ‘How far are we?’ I call over to Bronn.
‘Almost there.’
‘Then slow down.’
Everyone turns to look at me in surprise.
‘What?’ Harley puts her hands square on her hips.
‘If we just sail straight over, he’s going to suspect it’s a trap. But if we’ve taken a beating and retreat to save ourselves, then he won’t be able to resist the scent of blood.’
Rynce looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind, but I can tell Bronn and Grace agree.
‘How much damage can we sustain and still reach our mark?’ I ask anyone who can answer.
It’s Ana who replies. ‘As long as the hull isn’t breached, I can patch most things up, even in battle conditions. I’d rather we kept the masts too.’
Now I turn my questions directly to Bronn and Grace. ‘How far away will the Maiden need to be to wound but not kill us?’
It’s Bronn who fields this one. ‘They can fire with reasonable accuracy from half a mile away, so she can halve the current distance between us, but no more. We don’t want her anywhere near us.’
‘Fine. The minute we need to flee, do it.’ He nods. I address the others. ‘Prepare for attack.’
Harley slows the ship, just barely so as to not draw attention, and the Maiden grows ever nearer. She starts to unleash her cannons on us long before they’re in range, my father sending a message that he has ample ammunition, enough to waste on a showy display, and that he means to destroy us.
Like we didn’t already know that.
When we’re inevitably in range and the first cannon fire hits, the Avenger shakes from the explosion. It takes a chunk out of our starboard stern, and I can hear the cries below deck with horrifying clarity.
‘Report!’ Rynce shouts.
‘Minimal damage, sir.’ Ana is already sending crew down to make repairs.
‘Incoming!’
The second cannon shot sideswipes us, grazing the side of the hull without penetrating. But the vibrations shudder through the wood, reminding us how little there is between us and the sea we sail on.
Though chaos surrounds me I’m suddenly flung back inside my dream, my nightmare. Underwater, sinking, the ocean determined to devour me.
A third cannonball tearing through the ship jolts me back to the current and very real danger. It sends splinters flying, injuring those in its path. But there isn’t time to think, or react, they just keep pummelling us with blow after blow and then the Maiden almost seems on top of us. Any closer and it’ll be too late.
‘Bronn?’ I call out as I turn to look at him. He’s cutting this fine.
He’s standing at the wheel, his beautiful face set with brave determination, holding his nerve while the rest of us give in to fear. I feel a fierce rush of love for him. Valuable seconds pass, his order seeming to take for ever to come, but in those moments I’m not afraid. I see only him and all he is. And I’m so grateful for every second left at his side.
‘Now!’ Bronn shouts, and sets the Avenger free, spinning so hard to starboard that the ship’s very fabric creaks in protest and I have to grab the rigging to stop from falling.
Though bruised, the ship yields to our demands, and once she’s straightened herself makes good speed west.
My heart is racing as the divide approaches, and the excitement that’s been building inside me as we’ve sailed closer to the West reaches its peak. My whole life I’ve been taught this is not a line to cross, have witnessed men who feared nothing tremble at its mere proximity, but I have an unnerving sense that I’m finally going in the right direction.
Bronn reaches for my hand. ‘Last chance to turn round.’ He’s as nervous as I am.
‘I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.’
Bronn grins. ‘Adler’s afraid. You can already see them hesitating.’
He’s right, the Maiden seems to have frozen as they realise where we’re going. Several more cannons are fired, but we’ve put just enough distance between us to avoid being hit, and they merely pepper the water.
My surprise is matched only by my relief. ‘It’s working.’
I don’t know what I’m expecting when we sail into Western waters, perhaps immediate death, or to sink without trace, but nothing happens. The Avenger is undisturbed as she drags her breaking body away from her attacker, bleeding a trail of debris for my father to follow if he dares.
Which, of course, he does. It takes him longer than I would have expected to force his crew to comply, but eventually the Maiden continues her pursuit, never one to run away from a fight.
Two hours pass and we maintain our lead. The crew make essential repairs, while I tend the wounded. But we can’t outrun the Maiden for ever, and when I check how far apart we are, my heart sinks to see my father’s growing ever nearer. At this rate we won’t make it as far into Western waters as we’d hoped before he catches us.
‘Land ahoy!’
My head whips round to look at Bronn, who meets my shocked gaze. There must be some mistake. We should be nowhere near land. I run up to the bow and my blood freezes in my veins.
There on the horizon, beyond any doubt, is the faint outline of an island.
‘How is that possible? I thought we were days away from the Eighth Isle?’
Grace is beside me looking as confused as I am. ‘We should be.’ She snatches the chart from Rynce, who’s examining it in disbelief. ‘This doesn’t make sense.’
‘Is it the charts? I mean, they’re ancient, aren’t they?’
‘It’s the waters,’ Harley says, in an ominous way that commands our attention. ‘The Western Sea don’t take you where you want to go, but where you need to go.’ When we all stare at her she shrugs. ‘Why do you think everyone’s so afraid of it?’
If she’s right and the magic of the islands extends to the ocean, then there’s a chance Torin might not find us and all of this will be for nothing.
‘Ana, when will the ship be ready for combat?’
The boatswain bristles with pride. ‘Whenever you need her.’
‘Drop anchor,’ I say. ‘We can’t risk going any further. If Torin’s going to have a chance of catching up with us, then we need to do this now.’
A strange hush falls over the deck. There’s a difference between saying you’ll sacrifice yourself for a cause and the moment when the sacrifice actually arrives – a moment when every member of the crew seems to be searching deep inside themselves for the bravery that got them here in the first place.
And then the spell breaks and everyone gets to work, arming their stations. Bronn brings the Avenger about, and our cannons are prepped for use. We have less than half the number of cannons my father does, with a vastly inferior range and considerably weaker cannonballs, but it’s better than nothing.
Then we wait, watching the Maiden grow larger like she’s somehow expanding in size, until she’s close enough to unleash her weaponry on us with devastating accuracy.
The first shot penetrates the hull, obliterating everything in its path and causing screams to come from below. We can’t return fire yet – it won’t reach the Maiden and we don’t have anything to waste – so we sit tight while we sustain damage.
‘Will she hold?’ I call to Ana.
‘As long as I have breath she will.’
Her team are fixing the ship even as it breaks, but as the Maiden grows closer the impact from every blow becomes worse.
Chain shot flies through the sky, the two half balls chained together smashing our masts and ripping apart the rigging. The foremast shatters, causing mayhem as it swings down, flinging two men overboar
d. I help some others try to secure it before it can do more damage.
But then another shot rips the hull at the waterline and the ocean begins to invade our lower decks.
We finally launch our attack before there’s no time left. Cannonballs fly across to seek revenge, but barely scratch the pitch-painted sides of the Maiden. I can hear her crew laughing, jeering at us, and soon they’ll be close enough to throw their grapple hooks over and board. They’ll be planning to slaughter us all – quickly and without mercy. Apart from me. My father will want to punish me first.
I stand with my knife clutched in my fist. I plan on taking as many of them with me as I can.
But still there is no sign of Torin and the Fleet. If we die now, my father will escape. He will win again and will never be held to account for his atrocities.
I want him to die. I want him to suffer.
The thoughts in my head are born from rage. Maybe the Western waters hear the battle cry of my heart and whisper their answer.
I read enough in those ancient books to know there is a weapon beneath the ocean that could offer such a death. I could finally make him pay for everything he’s done. To the islands. To the people. To me.
All the longing I’ve suppressed since reading Torin’s books is released, and despite staring death in the face I feel alive, my skin crackling with anticipation as I stand at the edge of the ship. Without a moment’s hesitation I murmur the words I memorised curled up in my dark cave and they feel familiar on my lips as if I’ve spoken them before.
‘Arise, dark demons, sleep no more; come unleash hell, come destroy all. Stir to life, waken now, taste my blood and know my crown. Arise, dark demons.’
And I bring my blade hard across my palm, letting my blood fall into the sea.
I can feel the magic release inside me, can feel it surging through my veins, my darkness forged in hatred rising up to welcome it, the two combining into a dangerous force that leaves me breathless.
From somewhere deep below us a low rumbling reaches my ears, and bubbles race up to the surface. I look round to see if anyone else has heard it, but they’re too busy trying not to die.
