I tossed and turned for most of the night before falling into fevered dreams.
The morning brought a forced calm. But playing the empty-headed Celeste proved unusually difficult when I knew that the nights would bring no escape. When the wind picked up, I felt nothing but relief. The sooner we arrived in Largo, the better.
William and Celine both spent the day in a subdued state. They attempted to joke as usual, but all their efforts fell flat. Their obvious uncertainty drove me to take one final risk.
That night I waited until Celine fell asleep. It happened so quickly that I suspected she was exhausted from keeping pace with me. She probably felt secretly relieved to have our night-time training cancelled. I donned my disguise and crept out into the main part of the ship.
I moved with extra caution, which meant it took a painfully long time to reach my uncle’s cabin. If he left it, I would take the opportunity to search his belongings. I didn’t like to intrude on a family member in such a way, particularly one I didn’t like. After all, only the direst necessity would ever force me to do such a thing to my parents or siblings. But I feared that Celine and my dislike of our uncle made it too easy to leap to an unfair judgement.
But my sense of loyalty to William and Celine overruled my concerns. They followed me and trusted me, and I didn’t want to let them down. I would do whatever it took to show them we were making the right decision.
I waited outside his cabin for three hours. Eventually my unrest from the night before caught up with me. Even I had my limits.
My head had drooped for the third time when a sharp hiss startled me into wakefulness.
“There! I’m sure I saw something move.”
In my sleepy state, I reacted instinctively, turning towards the voice of the guard. For a suspended moment we stared at each other, both too shocked to move. Then he shattered the stillness.
“It’s her! The one the major warned us about. Quick!”
I turned and ran for my life.
Despite the gloom, I knew the corridor well, and my many practice circuits of the cargo hold helped me stay steady on my feet. My pursuers both stumbled over a coil of rope that I had effortlessly cleared. The higher swells that had accompanied the increased wind served me well now.
I put on an extra spurt of speed, trying to put some distance between us. When I reached the door of the state cabin, I needed to be out of their sight.
I slowed my headlong pace as I reached for the door handle, glancing under my arm for any glimpse of the guards. I could hear them, but they had yet to round the corner. I wrenched the door open and flung myself inside, forcing my arm to move slowly so that I could close the door soundlessly.
As soon as the latch caught, I slipped behind my screen and under my covers. Ripping the scarf from my head, I fanned my hair across the pillow and turned to face the wall. My pounding pulse sounded deafening in the quiet, and my wide eyes stared at the wooden wall that anchored my bunk.
I didn’t think they would suspect me of having entered the state cabin. And I didn’t think they would dare check, either. But, just in case, I held myself still. Seconds later feet thundered past the door, not even slowing.
I rolled onto my back and took a deep breath, willing my heart to relax. The soft breathing of my mother and sister seemed impossibly incongruous. I had to remind myself how quiet the entire episode had been despite the drumming in my ears.
I pulled my clothes off under the covers and realised that I truly couldn’t venture out as Aurora again. I could only hope the wind picked up even more and drove us into Largo without rest.
Sitting on deck the next morning, I stared at the dark clouds scudding behind the ship. Perhaps I should have been more circumspect with my wishes. My skirts whipped around me, dancing first one way and then another, so that I had to hold them down.
Sailors scurried around the deck, far more than I had seen out at one time before, trimming sails and lashing down anything that could move.
I sat, letting their frantic motions calm my scattered emotions. What did it say about me that it took such chaos for me to find a moment of inner calm?
“Princess!” A sudden crack of thunder nearly drowned out William’s voice. He held out his arm to me. “The captain has ordered all passengers below deck. The storm will break any minute.”
As he spoke the last word, a large drop of rain landed on his outstretched elbow.
“Oh!” I exclaimed, leaping to my feet. “We’re going to get wet.”
I gripped him hard, staggering far more than necessary as we made our way off the deck. He tucked me against his side, and I smiled, my face turned down against the increasing number of rain drops. If he only knew it, I was actually the steadier of the two of us. But I still leaned into his offered protection. And it wasn’t thoughts of my cover that motivated me.
William delivered me to the door of the state cabin and warned me to put away anything that wasn’t attached to the floor. “The captain said late storms like this one can be rough. But not rough enough to put us in any danger. If you stay safe in your bunk, you won’t come to any harm.”
I smiled my thanks and slipped inside.
“Celeste! There you are.” Celine pounced on me. “A storm. Isn’t it terrifying?” She looked more thrilled than afraid, so I enthusiastically agreed.
“We shall be through it soon enough, I’m sure, my dears.” Our mother sat calmly at the table, apparently unperturbed by the violent rocking of the ship.
“William said we need not be afraid. But, Mother, he said we would be safest in our bunks.” My mother rarely engaged in physical activity of any sort. I would much prefer to see her safely lying down.
“You two are no fun. Where’s your sense of danger?” Celine lurched across to one of our portholes to peer out at the storm. “Oh, look! Did you see that?”
I crossed over to join her, making sure to stumble a little. I shivered. “Lightning. I hope it doesn’t strike the ship.”
“If it does, I’m sure it can do no great damage.” My mother’s calm truly was imperturbable. “Not when the wood is so wet from this rain.”
I didn’t entirely share her confidence, but I did believe in the skill of the captain and our crew, and their knowledge of the seas. We would ride through the storm safely.
The lurching of the floor made any activity untenable, and the driving rain soon made it impossible to see anything out of the portholes. Even Celine gave up and decided to attempt a nap.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had passed an undisturbed night, so I quickly followed suit. Our mother encouraged us both into our bunks, but remained sitting at the table herself.
At first I feared I could never sleep with the storm tossing me around the bunk so wildly, but then I opened my eyes again to the certain knowledge that time had passed. The ship rocked and surged even more violently than when I had fallen asleep, and the wind roared outside the hull. I pulled the blankets tighter around my chin, wishing I could block it all out and return to slumber.
Usually, when I lay awake in my bunk, I listened to the sound of my mother and sister’s breathing, waiting for an opportunity to slip out of the cabin. But this time I could hear nothing over the sound of the wind and the waves beating against the ship. The absence felt unnatural so, after a minute, I decided to get up and check on them. I couldn’t seem to resettle without the sound of their peaceful sleep.
I stood up and an unexpected wave thrust me against my screen. I caught myself before I knocked it entirely over. When a wave tipped me in the right direction, I let myself slide out to grip the edge of the table. My mother no longer sat there, so I had two bunks to check.
I slowly moved to Celine and gazed down at her sleeping form. Her arm hung off the edge of the bunk, swaying with the movement of the ship. I waited for a lull between waves and lifted it gently back up, tucking it beneath her blankets.
I watched her peaceful face and my first thrill of fear hit. She looked so unconc
erned in sleep, that my own anxiety rose up as if to balance her lack. I shook off the foolish feeling and continued to my mother’s bunk.
The rush of terror at the sight of her untouched bedding overwhelmed the pale worry I had felt next to Celine. I grasped the privacy screen and scanned the cabin. But I already knew she wasn’t there, the space just wasn’t that big.
I looked up at the boards over my head, picturing the deck above. Unconcerned didn’t equal foolish. My mother would never have ventured up top. Perhaps she had merely gone to check on Rafe.
My stomach settled. Yes. That made sense. Without forming the thought, my body travelled towards the door, moving in rhythm with the tossing of the ship. I would join them. There could be no harm in that.
An empty corridor greeted me, free of the usual obstacles. The sailors had done their job well. With no one in sight, I moved with confidence, finding the beat of the storm. I reached Rafe and Marie’s cabin without difficulty and knocked. I knew they couldn’t hear me over the storm, but skipping the convention felt wrong.
I pushed the door open, almost falling inside. The newlyweds occupied a much smaller space than the state cabin and, even in the midst of my fear, I winced. They should have been alone on this voyage, occupying the state cabin themselves.
A visual sweep of the room confirmed my mother’s absence. And my family’s unnatural ability to sleep. Rafe lay with his back to the room, cradling his sleeping wife between his body and the wall of the ship. His arms looked both strong and gentle, and I had to push away an unwanted image of William holding me in such a manner.
The thought of my mother soon drove away such foolish daydreams. If she hadn’t come to Rafe, where could she possibly have gone?
I returned to the corridor and nearly collided with two sailors rushing past. Clinging onto one of their arms, I tried to shout above the storm. “Have you seen my mother? The queen? Where is she?”
He frowned at me, gesturing towards his ears and raising his other arm helplessly. “You need to return to your cabin, Your Highness. And I’m needed up on deck.”
I couldn’t hear his words and had to read them on his lips instead. He gently pushed me off and then bolted away. I followed, no set plan in mind.
He held the door to the deck open for the briefest possible time, but a wall of water still gushed through, half soaking me. My body shook at the shock of cold while I tried to formulate a strategy.
A coil of rope had rested next to this door every other day of our voyage. Where had it been put now? I stumbled along the passageway until I managed to find a storage alcove. I chose the longest length I could find and tied it tightly around my waist.
Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and stepped outside. I gasped and spluttered as freezing water instantly soaked the rest of me. For a moment I forgot it was still daytime. The grey clouds and heavy rain completely obscured my vision, darkening the sky.
I struggled to pull the door closed behind me, not letting go of it until my other hand had found the iron ring attached to the outside wall next to the doorway. I fumbled, the cold and wet making my fingers clumsy, but eventually managed to tie the loose end of my rope to the ring. Several other ropes were already secured there. Should I follow one? It might lead me to my mother.
A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the deck before me. Several sailors moved across it, but the brief glimpse was too short for me to see what they were doing. The peal of thunder followed on the heels of the lightning. We were in the heart of the storm.
The density of the rain gave the sensation of swimming across the deck rather than walking. Part of my mind screamed at my foolishness, but I couldn’t go back to our cabin and wait quietly, hoping for the best.
When a second streak of lightning lit up the sky, I peered around, trying to take in as much of the scene as I could. I stood on the port side of the deck, and could see no sign of my mother. The accompanying thunder rang out so loudly and so quickly that I started. My feet already struggled to grip the soaking deck, and my violent movement unbalanced me. The ship hit a huge wave and I fell, sliding across the deck.
My heart sank into my stomach at the awful sensation, and I reached wildly for something to catch hold of. Every moment I anticipated the violent tug of the rope around my waist. My old bruises had finally faded, but I would soon have far worse ones.
When the snap didn’t come, a new fear rushed through me. How well had I tied my knot? The deck rushed under me, the edge approaching fast.
Chapter 21
One hand hit something hard, and I grasped it with all my might, just as the ship pitched in the other direction. I used the momentum to swing my body around, wrapping my arm tightly around the wooden post.
Clinging on with all my strength, I gasped in great breaths, the rain spattering into my eyes and open mouth unheeded.
What was I doing? I would achieve nothing like this but my own death. I struggled back to my feet, still clinging to the anchoring pole. I couldn’t immediately recall its usual purpose, but I had never been so grateful for a piece of wood in my life.
The wind rushed at me, ripping at my clothing and tearing at my skin. My whole body shuddered spasmodically, but the movement barely registered. Another fork of lightning gave me a glimpse into the storm. My rope had become tangled, and I forced myself to move back the way I had come, carefully freeing it as I went.
The brief light also revealed a ladder, and I moved towards it. Gripping the rungs with numb hands proved unexpectedly difficult, and I ended up wrapping my entire arm around each one, inching slowly upwards. Now, when the ship lurched sideways, I feared free falling into the water with nothing but my rope to save me. But I needed a higher vantage point before the next flash.
When it came, I was ready. On the other side of the deck, a figure huddled against a wall. Unlike the occasional sailor I had glimpsed, this person didn’t move, and although the rain made vision difficult, I thought I saw purple. My mother had been wearing purple.
Gratefully I reversed my upwards climb, soon reaching the marginally more secure footing of the deck. A new sense of urgency drove me. I had been out here for mere minutes, and I already struggled to feel my hands. How long had my mother been out here? Would the next wave be enough to shake loose her current grip?
I doubted she had a safety rope, which would have involved either tying a secure knot on her own, or finding a sailor to help her. Neither of which were likely possibilities. But, whatever her danger, a fall would destroy all my progress, so I forced myself to move slowly.
When the sky next lit up, I knew which direction to look. My mother clung to a small bench, her body curled around it, her face tucked down.
I reached her before the next flash. Gripping her shoulders, I tried to draw her to her feet. She resisted. I didn’t even bother attempting to speak to her. I didn’t think I could scream my words loudly enough.
Instead I continued to tug against her until she finally let go and uncurled herself. The sky whitened, the first sheet lightning since I had come on deck. In the strange illumination, her eyes looked glassy and wild, and her lips moved although I couldn’t make out any sound.
I wished I had thought to bring a second rope. Without one, the journey back would be dangerous. I pulled some of the slack rope towards me and wrapped it several times around my mother, standing on tiptoe to loop it over her head. Then I positioned myself behind her, my arms wrapped around her waist and propelled her forward.
She no longer resisted me, but neither did she help. I had to balance us both. Each step strained me to my limits. My eyes remained fixed on our goal as another brilliant blaze of lightning split the sky. The door beckoned, nearly within reach, but it was the porthole to one side of it that caught my attention. Was that a face? Had someone seen our predicament? My thoughts distracted me enough that the next wave caught me off guard. I had no strength left to fight it, so I could only be glad that it tipped us in the right direction, sliding across the sli
ck planks.
We both slammed against the door and it swung open. We fell through, and I twisted and slammed it shut. The ship still rocked and the storm screamed against the wood, but the absence of the wind and rain made the dark passageway feel blessedly calm and warm.
I lay for a moment next to my mother, taking deep breaths and letting my violent shudders subside. We had made it. We were both alive.
A flutter of movement made me push myself up. But when I looked down the corridor, no one was in sight. I shook my head. Another hallucination then, like the face in the porthole, brought on by the after-effects of the lightning. I would probably be seeing things for hours as my anxiety drained away. I forced my trembling fingers to untie the knot around my waist. The waterlogged rope made the task difficult, but I eventually managed it.
I gently lifted my mother up. Her lips pressed tightly together now, but the fevered look remained in her eyes. She seemed to stare right through me, giving no sign of recognition.
My heart rate, which had only just begun to slow, picked up again. Her skin felt clammy to the touch, and she was no doubt in shock. I needed to get her dry and warm.
Abandoning the rope in the passageway, I lead her towards our cabin. Pushing open the door, I pulled her inside and called for Celine.
“Celine! Celine! Oh no! Oh no!”
“Wh-What?” Celine’s groggy voice sounded from her bed.
“Oh Celine, it’s Mother!” I burst into tears. They came incredibly easily, my body coming down from high alert with a crash. Usually, when I needed to cry as Celeste, I had to think of my favourite horse who had died when I was twelve.
Celine’s head shot out from her screen, and she screeched at the sight of us. “Celeste! Mother! What in the kingdoms happened to you?”
“I don’t know.” My teeth chattered so hard, I could barely form the words. “The door to the deck was open. And Mother was lying just inside it.”
The Princess Game: A Reimagining of Sleeping Beauty (The Four Kingdoms Book 4) Page 16
