by Rebecca Rode
My father had addressed the crew this morning to explain where we were going and assure them he’d pilot the ship himself. He knew where the rocks lay, he’d said, and they needn’t worry except about their work. He’d finished his speech with a dire order of quick obedience. Anyone who didn’t set themselves immediately to his orders would receive a lashing once we were through. I’d doubted that particular warning would help, but the men seemed almost comforted by it. As if a lashing was the worst they could experience this day.
The clouds grew dark and thick above us as the Needle entrance grew larger in the distance. Rain pelted and then assaulted our exposed faces. The wind was relentless. I pulled my coat tighter and watched the men work, aware of Aden’s presence beside me. He wore a coat I didn’t recognize. I didn’t ask who he’d bought it from.
My father paced the quarterdeck above, giving Marley an occasional order and glancing worriedly behind us. The pirates had guessed our plan and increased their speed, determined to catch us before the cliffs. We’d only have one chance to make it into the channel, so Father would take over the wheel as we approached the entrance. It wouldn’t be long now.
Aden leaned over, looking somber. “I’m not watching the men work for an hour. There must be something I can do to help.”
He’d echoed my thoughts precisely. Half the crew were already aloft, positioning themselves along the yard lines for both masts and preparing to secure the shrouds. “You won’t be climbing in this weather. Dennis approves your training before he’ll send you aloft. Up there, one mistake can endanger the entire ship.”
He frowned. “What about you?”
Father had forbidden my going up the moment dark clouds closed in above us. I hid my irritation, shielding my eyes from the rain. Climbing the ratlines when they were swaying like that, with the canvas flapping by your head, threatening to flick you off like a fly… most men would be relieved to keep both feet on deck.
But I wasn’t most men, and it looked positively exhilarating.
A cry rose from the quarterdeck above. Marley stood gripping the wheel with one hand, pulling the other away from his forehead. A trickle of blood wriggled its way down his cheek and under his jaw. There was tapping from behind me and a yelp from above. It wasn’t until I looked down that I realized what was happening.
Frozen rain, the size of marbles.
I shielded my eyes and dared a glance upward. Millions of white balls plummeted from the sky. They began to fill the deck—billions of sharp ice pebbles. They grew larger even as I watched. The men aloft paused in their climbs to shield their chests against bad fortune.
Marley’s voice was shaky. “The spirits defend this place. They won’t let us through without a fight.”
“Then fight we shall,” Father said, making his way over. The sound of ice hitting the deck made his next words difficult to hear. “I’ll take over. Get shelter… Clean that wound.”
The navigator didn’t argue. Still holding his forehead, he stepped carefully toward the stairs, avoiding the icy marbles rolling about his feet.
The men preparing to climb pulled their coats over their heads, glaring at the rigging before them. None dared wear a hat in this wind.
Another wet gust slammed into us. I hurried under the ledge jutting out above the cabin doors and plastered myself against them for protection. Aden followed. Balls of ice pelted the deck in a continuous round of clattering. An occasional cry sounded from above. If it was this bad on deck…
Aden cursed. “They’re completely exposed up there.”
Dennis shouted from the quarterdeck above. I strained to hear past the pounding of ice. “Timing is critical, Captain. We’ll barely have enough time to furl sail before we get dashed upon the rocks at the opening. Even if we make it in unscathed, visibility will be extremely poor. How can you navigate currents you can’t see?”
“Position men at the bow and shout directions back to me,” Father called. “We’ll get her to the other side.”
“Sir, we can still turn around. It isn’t worth risking more lives!”
“And fall to pirates? Nay. We’ll make it through because we must. Tell the men to stay alert and listen for orders.”
A pause. “Aye, sir.”
I shifted in my boots, for once agreeing with Dennis. Pirates could be defeated. Plunging between two narrow cliffs was suicide. One rogue wave shoving us off course, and the ship would be driftwood.
Another gust tore a sail somewhere overhead. I cringed at the sound and looked up, but I couldn’t tell where the rip was. It stopped, then started again, longer. A bad one. The sheets flapped now, like they were about to tear right off their yards. Even if we made it through the entrance untouched, we’d get nowhere without our sails intact.
Father realized it too. “Furl the fore and mainsails! Harbor furlough, nice and tight. Quickly. Then get the men down from there!”
Dennis hurried to relay the order. This was one he agreed with.
The men moved to obey. All except Barrie, perched at the foresail. He clung to his line like a rider on a bucking stallion.
I groaned.
Aden held a hand up to shield his eyes. “What’s wrong with him?”
“It happens sometimes. He just freezes up.” It was understandable. Being aloft in storms like this made even grown men wet themselves.
“But they can fulfill the order without him, right?” The wind whipped Aden’s words away almost immediately.
I shook my head, dread seizing my thoughts. “Takes at least twelve men at each yard in good weather. In a storm like this…”
He nodded, understanding what I hadn’t said.
Come on, Barrie.
Barrie’s foot slipped and his leg went clean through the ratlines. He struggled to find his grip again. The other men waited at the yard, but Barrie wasn’t even halfway when a huge gust of wind nearly picked him right up. He yelped as he thrust his arms through, holding himself there against the wind, shaking like a boy facing death. The rest of the crew shouted to him, but he didn’t respond.
“He’s not going to make it,” Aden said.
I turned and lifted onto my toes, straining to see my father on the quarterdeck behind us. He was completely focused on the helm, fighting to keep the rudder straight. He’d ordered lashes for disobedience—a sentence I’d thankfully managed to avoid to this point in my life. But I couldn’t very well stand here while the wind drove the Majesty headlong into a cliff either. No reasonable sailor would.
Ship before self.
The frozen rain only intensified by the minute. I willed the numb cold from my fingers, hunching my shoulders. Then I stepped out into the onslaught and raced for the ratlines, dodging rolling pieces of ice underfoot.
“Somebody help,” Barrie cried from above, his voice weak.
The wet lines creaked under my weight. I focused on grabbing hold of one before releasing the other, balancing my weight carefully. Another gust of wind sent me nearly sideways, but I paused, clinging tightly with my head ducked. It barely helped. Ice pelted my back, arms, my frozen fingers. I’d have a hundred bruises tomorrow. The ship groaned like a downed animal.
An eternity later, I reached Barrie. Blood dripped down his forehead as he watched me approach. There was a wild look in his eyes. “I can’t be g-going up there.”
“Go join Aden on deck. I’ll take it from here.”
Barrie looked down. “But he be climbing.”
I followed his gaze and cursed. Aden was only a minute behind me. What did the princeling think this was, some kind of child’s adventure? Men died in storms like this.
“He’s coming for you,” I told Barrie, not caring whether it was true. “Climb down to meet him. I’ll take your place on the yard.”
He nodded so vigorously, his damp black hair flopped into his eyes.
Dennis shouted something from below. I couldn’t make it out. Gritting my teeth, I ducked my head against the ice and set myself to climbing once again.
/> I scrambled over the top, the lines beneath my fingers soggy and cold. The others noticed my arrival and eased down the yard farther, allowing me the position next to the mast. Now the slow, tedious work of pulling and folding the canvas began. Ice slammed into my head, my face. I sent thoughts of pain elsewhere and focused on my work. Reach, fold. Reach, fold. My arms trembled from the exertion—the mainmast was far heavier than the fore. I lay with my stomach across the yard, allowing it to take my weight, but the foot line bearing us all up swung in the wind.
“Hurry!” Dennis called from below.
I dared a peek at the Needle and gave a start. It was nearly upon us. My mind registered that the icy rain had begun to ebb.
The foot line beneath my boots jerked again, vibrating oddly. I paused in my work and looked down just in time to see it unraveling.
“Hold to the yard!” I shrieked to the others, and threw myself across the sturdy wooden bough.
The foot line snapped.
Dryam yelped beside me. Thankfully, he’d thrown a leg over the yard at my warning and now gripped it tightly with both arms. A scream pierced the wind. I looked over just in time to see a sailor named Errick flailing, his legs up over his head as he tumbled toward the water. My exclamation hadn’t carried to him. A wave swallowed him up as though it were a massive whale.
“No!” Dryam howled. “Man overboard!”
Horror grasped my mind as I stared at the water. A somber silence settled over those now wrapped around the yard for their very lives. Shouts echoed from below as sailors rushed to the rails, looking for any sign their comrade had survived the one-hundred-twenty-foot fall. The man nearest to Errick’s position, Lyman, was weeping.
There was nothing to be done, I realized with a sinking heart. Even if we turned sharply and missed the Needle’s entrance, the wind would ram us against the cliff walls and finish us off before we could turn completely around. It was likely to happen anyway, given the speed we approached the entrance with now. We’d be dashed upon the rocks sure as the angry waves, unless Father prevailed upon the rudder.
I traced the sign of life on my chest, fixing Errick’s face in my mind. Mourning would have to come later.
Three sharp bells followed by a long one. Come down and brace for impact. The mainsail was a loss, and there was no time to string a new foot line so we could finish our work.
I scrambled on my stomach toward the mast. The others pushed along on their bellies after me, watching the canvas snapping below them with an experienced wariness. Our falls would end at the deck, not the sea. Infinitely worse.
What remained of the foot line whipped at me as I lowered myself down the mast rungs. I swept it aside only to pause, breath catching. It hadn’t simply unraveled. The end was too clean to be explained by wind or the onslaught of frozen rain.
Someone had sliced it with a blade.
“Get moving!” Dryam hissed from above me. I lowered myself down to the ratlines secured to the ship’s side, the implications of this revelation whipping my mind about like the freed mainsail overhead. Someone had intended for the foot line to break. If I hadn’t looked over when I did… I closed my eyes against the image of all twelve sailors plunging to their deaths. Our deaths.
I’d been the last to make that climb. That meant one of two things—either another man at the yard had done it, risking his own life in the process, or someone had sliced it earlier and it hadn’t torn till now. But why? What would the deaths of a dozen sailors accomplish?
The shouts from below intensified as the ship listed portside, then starboard again. The tearing sail held too much wind. It was taking us off course. I didn’t dare gauge our distance from the entrance now. It was obvious we had seconds left, and I still hovered fifty feet above the deck, clinging to the mast with all my strength.
“Hurry!” Dennis screamed.
Aden appeared at my feet. “Too late!” he shouted. “Hold on.”
I weaved my arms through the ratlines to secure myself. Dryam cursed and did the same.
The ship lurched hard.
My fingers burned as the lines slid through my hands. Then there was just air. I grabbed for the ratlines, reaching, flailing. I hit them again, lower, and bounced off once more. The rope netting directed me toward the waves now. My stomach flew up into the sky and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t grab anything, couldn’t scream, couldn’t… stop…
Something grabbed my arm. Pain wrenched through my shoulder a second later, and I gasped. Aden grunted heavily. Then an arm snaked out around my waist and yanked, shoving me against the ratlines again. I grabbed the rope beneath my fingers and pried my eyes open to find Aden’s face inches from mine.
“Thank the spirits,” he gasped, rain dripping down his hair and into his eyes. His hand was still around my waist.
A terrible screeching of wood and rock filled the air, far louder than the wind’s cruel bellow. The hull. Father had almost succeeded in taking us in; we’d hit at an angle and the battle between ship’s hull and rocky walls had commenced. I’d fallen and… Aden had caught me before I hit the waves.
I stared at him, speechless, willing my brain to form a complete sentence. Thank you. Remove your hands. I’ll take it from here, thanks. Anything at all.
Instead, the world had frozen in that moment, our faces inches apart, my lungs suspended in time, and a strange rawness in his expression. He looked exposed, uncertain, the prince stripped clean away until he was simply a boy.
“Ow,” I finally managed, then flinched. Of all the stupid things to escape my mouth.
His guard went up again, and he gave a tight smile. “Let’s get you down from here.”
My brain finally responded to commands, allowing me to wiggle free of his embrace and wince at the deep pain in my shoulder. I scrambled down, grateful that the hull’s inhuman shrieking had ended, bowing to the sound of wind whistling violently through the cliffs on either side.
My head spun, thoughts jumbling into a concoction that closely resembled Paval’s stew. I still felt the grip of Aden’s fingers around my waist—how dare he—and this was no time for distractions. The rocky walls had slowed us nearly to a halt, but we were finally inside the Needle’s cliffs.
We’d made it.
No cheer rose from the men, no pats on the back. Instead, they stood transfixed, watching the waves behind us.
“Check for hull damage belowdecks,” Dennis snapped at the gawking men at the rail. This wasn’t over. If we’d sprung a leak, we’d be the Needle’s latest shipwreck.
“Lane!” Barrie said, hurrying up to me. “That was quite the tumble. If Aden hadn’t gone back for you—”
“So lucky,” I said dryly, rolling my shoulder to test it. I didn’t need a description of the corpse I’d nearly become. And my father would have seen the entire thing from the helm, reinforcing his belief that I needed protecting. Not to mention that odd exchange between Aden and me that most of the crew would have seen. My secrets felt like lines being yanked from my fingers.
Barrie rushed on, oblivious. “I told Aden to stay and brace for impact, but he refused. Said he couldn’t stand by and watch you die.”
That was the part that bothered me—he could have. Nobody would have judged Aden for obeying orders and holding his position. In fact, my death would have removed the only other sailor who knew what he was. I looked up at the ratlines, measuring the distance by sight. He’d climbed faster than should have been possible.
Focus. I’d sort out Aden later. We had a saboteur aboard, someone who didn’t want us to reach our destination.
I marched up the quarterdeck steps to confront Father, who struggled with the wheel. “That was far too close, Captain,” Dennis was muttering.
“Beg pardon, sir,” I said, “but there’s something you should know.”
“Not now, Lane,” Father snapped.
“We’ve lost a sailor, Captain,” Kemp said from behind me. “An honorable commander would do everythin’ in his power to save the p
oor man.”
Father grunted. “What would you have us do, Master Kempton? Toss you overboard to fetch him?”
Kemp continued, raising his voice still louder. He meant for the entire crew to hear this conversation. “Wasn’t just Errick, sir. Ye just risked all our lives, every man. And for what? A few harmless ships in the distance?”
“You know full well what those ships intended, Gun Master,” Father muttered through clenched teeth. “Lower your voice now, and stop questioning my orders.”
“We’ve a right to question our lives being tossed to the wind. Literally, in this case. We’d have preferred fightin’ those so-called pirates. We’ve plenty of guns and the courage to use ’em, yet ye ignored our advice and did as ye pleased.”
The crew gathering at the quarterdeck steps had gone quiet. Hushed whispers peppered the group. I found Aden’s eyes in the crowd. We’d both underestimated Kemp’s determination. Not only was the gun master trying to undermine his captain, but Kemp had just played a very dangerous hand. That meant he had confidence that a good percentage of the crew would back him if things went sour.
Dennis placed himself between Kemp and the captain. “You are out of line, sir. Let’s take this discussion to the captain’s cabin and discuss it like gentlemen, or I’ll escort you to the brig.”
A man clattered up the steps from below. “Only a small leak starboard fore. The carpenter is already on it, sir!”
I released a long breath, wishing the news were more comforting. The Majesty had survived, but our crew was breaking open at the seams—and it was Kemp who held the pry bar.
“If you refuse to explain yer actions, Captain, at least address the fact that three sailors disregarded orders this day. Including your own son.”
“Father,” I jumped in. “That foot line didn’t break by itself. Someone—”
He spun on me. “Get off my quarterdeck!”
I took a step backward. “But—”
