by Rebecca Rode
My arms trembled, but not from fear. It was absolute and utter rage.
I met the first pirate with a yell and an axe to his thigh. As he yelped, I spun and struck the second in the head with the flat part of my blade. His sword nearly skewered me as I pulled free for another strike. I twisted to the side and sank into soldier stance.
The first, now boasting an axe-sized hole in his leg, limped away. He wasn’t fast enough. Paval reached him then, the cat swinging over his head. I didn’t watch the blow, but I heard the cry that followed.
The man I’d hit in the head stood firm. His filthy lips turned into a greedy smile as he looked me over, his gaze hovering on my shirt. “Land of the bloody sun. A wom—”
My axe smashed into his face, the other following it with a brutal strike to the throat. His words gurgled as he slid to his knees, still clutching his sword. I placed my foot on his stomach and kicked him over like a tree. Hot tears cut into my cheeks. I wiped them on my bloody sleeve and looked across the water at the rowboat that carried Aden’s slumped body.
Belza still watched me. The amusement in his expression was gone.
“They’re preparing to fire!” a sailor screamed.
Go.
The ten remaining men—crew and pirates both—cried out, some diving off the deck while others shouted at their peers across the water, demanding another boat so they could return. That ship across the way, a third taller than our own, had to be where they were taking Aden now. Belza’s black-and-red banner flew from the mainmast. I wanted to rip it to shreds, set it aflame, and ram it down Belza’s murdering throat.
A series of explosions at the stern sent the Majesty rocking underfoot. I stumbled but managed to stay on my feet. Heavy smoke filled the air until I coughed. Screaming and more splashes of diving men. If there was a fate sailors feared more than any other, it was death by flames.
I hurried to the mainmast to gather the others, only to be met with the silence of bodies. Only I remained. Had Paval left without me? Where was Barrie?
More explosions portside. The ship listed sideways. This time, she stayed there. We were taking on water. I blinked against the smoke obscuring the air, giving the deck one last look—the rail where Aden had practiced his knots, the quarterdeck where my father had stood during Barrie’s punishment. The rigging overhead where I’d spent so many hours. The cabin. A body with his arms folded respectfully across his chest.
I caught sight of another body against the mainmast and sucked in a painful breath. Long black hair. Broad shoulders. Paval’s half-lidded eyes stared at nothing. It had taken three shots to down him.
It felt as though someone had squeezed the very air from my lungs.
Another explosion.
This time, the world went white. There was no sound. Just a high-pitched ringing.
I flew through the air, slow as a feather. Tiny bits of wood pelted my head, my eyes, my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. Smoke had replaced the ocean air. I strained for the slightest part of it, just a small lungful, but it eluded me. A flash of white canvas.
And then the cold hit.
Or rather, I hit it. My body plunged into the chilled green waves—down, down. Still farther. I opened my eyes and was rewarded with the instant sting of salt. There was nothing to see but tiny white bubbles and shards of wood. Then a floating body.
I rolled, trying to get my bearings. I kicked in what I thought was an upward direction, my lungs screaming for relief. My heart pounded until I thought it would burst from my chest.
I reached the surface and gasped, sucking in air. I let myself focus on the act of living—breathing, in and out, refusing to choke on the salty waves threatening to drag me under. Then I allowed myself a look at the ship I called home.
She listed even more now, nearly flat. There had to be several holes in her to fill so quickly. The Majesty was following her captain into death.
My earlier rage began to cool into ice-hard determination. I would survive this. I could fight at least as hard as my father had. Perhaps this lie, the impossible belief that I could live, would keep me afloat until I found a way to make it true.
Another blast, followed by two more. One cracked into the mainmast, which lurched but held. Another ship circled after the first, preparing for another round.
A new sound cracked through the wind. Gunfire. The pirates were shooting at the swimmers.
Go.
I took a deep breath and dove underwater once more. The noises of battle took on an otherworldly sound. Beneath the water’s surface, I could almost believe it was a dream.
I’d already begun to shiver. I wouldn’t last long in water this cold. What was it Father had said—a man could survive for twenty minutes? Or was it thirty?
Just survive. I could worry about everything else later.
More gunshots. They still watched the surface above.
I kicked hard and kept my arms moving. It was difficult to do both with the axes at my belt restricting my movement. I didn’t care. The axes stayed. The want of air was gripping my mind, begging, screaming there was nothing more important than surfacing right this moment. I struggled to keep focused and ignore the pain in my chest and ears. The deeper I plunged, the worse it would get. A distant flutter in the water chilled my blood even more. A jardrake slithered past. More wouldn’t be far behind.
The pirate ship before me still loomed far in the distance when there was a mighty groan from behind, like an injured animal giving up the ghost.
My lungs heaved desperately. My time was up.
It seemed like forever before I reached the surface. I broke through with a desperate gasp, gulping precious air. I had nearly made it. The tallest ship loomed far overhead. The men cheered, obviously fixed upon the Majesty’s remains, or they would have seen me easily. Rows of cannon head still stuck out, ready for another round. There was no sign of Aden.
I dove underwater again and swam to the bow. To my relief, I was met only by empty waves on the other side. I hadn’t been seen. A goddess figurine extended from the bow. Below it hung a network of netting. It was often used for fishing and sometimes bathing while on a long voyage. More importantly, it lay empty and out of sight. But how to get up there?
I flattened myself against the ship’s hull, shivering violently. So cold. My mind felt as numb as my fingers. I needed something long and thin to throw upward, like a line. My shirt would work, although I couldn’t very well go naked. But what lay underneath…
I tore my bindings free and wrapped them together in some semblance of a rope. The roughness of the knot would have made a rigger recoil, but with my trembling hands it was the best I could do. Then I gathered myself for one great leap, throwing the makeshift line upward. It didn’t catch.
Another try, then another, to no avail. My legs were growing numb and uncoordinated. Another ship was bound to circle us soon. I would not be defeated by a few feet of ocean air. I had to get up there now.
I growled and fell back against the water. A new wave lifted me gently upward. Stop fighting and work with me, it seemed to say.
Another great swell came. This time, I timed my leap at its height. It gave me an extra two feet.
It was enough. The cloth caught, wrapping around just as I descended. I grabbed at it with my other hand. The wave descended without me, leaving me dangling in the netting. It had worked.
I swung my bare feet upward—I’d lost my boots in the swim—and plunged my limp legs through the ropes the way I’d done as a child so many times. Then I hung there, gasping for breath and shaking from the cold.
I’d escaped without being seen. If I didn’t freeze to death first, I wouldn’t be discovered for a few hours yet. And if I did—well, at least it would be a death I had chosen for myself.
The cheering above grew louder. I dared a look at the Majesty to find… nothing. Only wreckage and broken wood shards, and the sea would destroy those soon enough. The ship, my father, Paval, Barrie—it was as if they’d never existed at all
.
I collapsed into the ropes and let the brittle wind carry me away.
The world faded in and out. There were only the ocean waves and their cold blasts of sea spray. The shivering stopped and began again. Water dried from my clothes, leaving the salt behind until my skin itched. The waves grew in size, causing the ship to climb high and then descend quickly, drenching me in cold water with each plunge into the waves. Somewhere in my numb and half-conscious mind, I wondered why the sea I loved had betrayed me.
The men above shouted and sang and laughed, their voices slurred and carefree. At one point, a gruff voice stabbed through my dreams, demanding silence so the captain could sleep. The other ships sailed along behind us. If they pulled ahead, they’d see me.
I almost didn’t care if they did.
The minutes turned into hours as I hung there. My body still functioned, as my lungs drew breath and my heart pumped blood through my cold fingers. But I felt like just that—a functioning husk, the soul long gone. My thoughts weren’t really there. They lay with a corpse at the bottom of the ocean.
As the day faded to darkness and then to light again, I clung to memories of my father. They came in flashes of color and light. His smile, rare but worth all the more for it. The shiny land boots he cared for in his meticulous way. His silly Hughen lullabies.
Were the Hughens right, and a glorious bird had taken him to the Land of Souls? I had already dismissed the Messauns’ beliefs as false. They refused to discuss death, saying anyone who succumbed must deserve it. And the KaBann believed the dead joined a massive army in the afterlife, fighting to save the living from demons.
That was the interpretation I liked most. I could see my father as a mighty general, swinging his pirate axe with his fiercest yell.
Only Aden and I had survived, and I wasn’t even sure of that. They could be planning to kill Aden and deliver his body to King Eurion as a warning. Or perhaps Aden was fine, and the corpse found at voyage’s end would be my own, frozen and tangled in the netting at the bowsprit.
My stomach rumbled, sending another round of pain through my body. It seemed decades since I’d last eaten. In the brig, next to my father. I’d handed him his plate and we’d discussed Paval’s hair… oh, lands. It felt so real. They felt so real. It was this new reality that felt like the dream.
It was nearly evening again when the call came from above. “Land ho!”
I jerked and instantly regretted it. My binding harness still held, but the constant weight had rolled it until it bit into my armpits and my upper back. I’d have dark welts by now.
Land ho. My mind fought against the deep fog that had settled in my thoughts. I’d assumed Belza would order his fleet back to Hughen so he could sell Aden to Rasmus. But we couldn’t have arrived yet. Hughen was nearly two weeks away. It had only been a day since the pirates had attacked. Hadn’t it? A wave of dizziness hit, distracting me from the pain in my stomach and the chill in my bones. Maybe two days, then.
It wasn’t until we got closer, men scrambling on deck behind me, that I recognized the outline of the coast ahead and groaned.
Messau.
Port Column had a shallow harbor, so the pirates dropped anchor in the bay. Only two ships had escorted Belza’s this far. They clustered closely as the rowboats were lowered. Six boats, all full of men.
I plastered myself to the bow, hardly daring to breathe. If the men looked over, they’d see my shadow. I could only hope it looked like no more than that.
As they began rowing away, I sneaked a quick peek. I perked up at a man with brown, wavy hair near the front of the nearest boat, but his beard was too thick to be Aden’s. I scanned the faces once more. They were too far to tell. Please let him be alive.
A figure loomed over the rest at the center of the loose formation. That had to be Belza. What was his purpose here? The boats gave me no answers.
I sagged against the netting as the boats grew smaller in the distance. All I knew was that I couldn’t stay here. The only thing standing between me and discovery was an overly curious fishing boat or patrolling vessel.
I reached upward and began to tug at the knot holding me fast. It had gone tight from the weight, and with my frozen fingers it took far longer to untie than it should have, but it finally slipped open. I tried not to yelp as I tumbled into the gentle waves below.
Bursting free, I took in a long breath of the evening air. A bit of cloth bobbed away on the water’s surface. The bindings.
Stop pretending and be the strong woman you are, Father had said.
My route had never been one of comfort, so what did safety matter? The pirates had left my soul shredded and bleeding. Nobody would believe I was an innocent captain’s boy now, bindings or no bindings. Lane had spent life hiding and fearing death. The waves had taken that person along with everything else. But Laney emerged from them a survivor, brave and determined. It was Laney I needed now.
Even if that version of myself had been stripped of everything she owned except trousers, a pair of axes, a bag of coins, and the memory of a prince’s hand warming hers.
I let the bindings float away.
Belza’s plan was a mystery, but it changed nothing. I couldn’t leave until Aden was safe. Not because he was a prince, but because I was a Garrow. I had faced down pirates and even death itself and survived. If rescuing Aden meant defying my father’s murderer, I would happily oblige.
Is that truly why you want to save him? a little voice whispered.
I silenced it immediately. My decision was born of duty and loyalty. Never mind how Aden’s gaze captured me and his touch lit me aflame. I wasn’t one of those silly girls back in Hughen. I’d just survived an attack by Captain Belza. Surely I could see Aden one more time and leave with my heart intact.
I turned my back on the floating cloth. Then I started for shore.
An hour later, I pulled myself out of the waves and into the cold evening wind. It was rocky here, and the stones cut into my bare, frozen feet. With a grimace and a curse, I stepped carefully up to the walk and stood there, shaking from exhaustion and the cold.
The weight of my axes was a comforting one, though they’d need a good scrubbing after all that salt water. I felt around my belt and was relieved to find the bag of gold intact as well. I could buy a few nights’ lodging in town while I decided my next course.
Except the town lights seemed miles away, and my legs trembled under my weight like they would give way any second.
A voice called from the rocks. “It’s a bit late in the season for a swim.”
I jumped at the sound. My legs chose that moment to give way beneath me, and I found myself heaped upon the walk. The sky was sideways. Perhaps I was weaker than I’d thought.
A figure arose from the rocks and stood over me. A woman with pale skin and a dozen blond braids. She was carrying… a bucket?
She saw me staring and held the bucket tight against her stomach, as if afraid I’d steal it. “Oarvigs. Ye can only find them at night. Takes hours to shell them, but it’s worth the work. Ye a stowaway?”
“I, uh…” It came out a moan.
“Ye shouldn’t be swimming here. The Peak is safer.” She stopped and cursed.
I followed her gaze to my shirt. It hung open, two of the top clasps broken. I’d torn it sliding my bindings free. There could be no doubt of my sex now.
I shoved myself upward, intending to stand. But my shaky arms wouldn’t hold my weight, and once again I lay on the ground, looking up at a dark sky. No stars tonight. Just a woman holding a bucket. Oarvigs?
“Show me the road to town,” I tried to say. But another groan was all I could manage.
“Yer a mess,” the woman said somewhere far away, and then everything faded.
I awoke to the sound of a fire crackling nearby.
Fire.
I sat bolt upright, breathing fast. The surface beneath me felt too hard and flat to be my hammock. The tiny room around me was hidden in shadow except for the b
right stone fireplace. A bundle of blankets lay in the corner. I couldn’t tell if there was someone in it or not. The floor didn’t sway, which meant this was no ship.
Confusion held my mind in its grip, and I wanted to lie down again until my surroundings made sense. I lifted the rough blanket only to find myself wearing an unfamiliar shirt with my old trousers.
“Yer shirt’s ruined.” The woman from earlier approached. Her braids had been replaced by a series of long, tight waves cascading halfway down her back. In this light, her pale eyes were unsettling. She tossed a bundle of cloth into the corner with the rest and stood above me, her tone bordering on accusing. “That one’s mine. People are in and out of here all hours picking up their laundry, and I couldn’t have ye wearing what ye had on.”
I looked out the window. Still dark. My skin itched with the memory of salt, and there was a soreness in my arms that should have meant something…
Then it all came back.
The pirates. Our ship. Paval, Barrie, and Aden.
Father.
The pain hit with such force, it left me gasping. Everything I loved had been torn from me, and for the first time in my life, I felt completely and utterly alone.
The woman turned away, muttering under her breath.
I remembered now. I’d collapsed at this woman’s feet. Thank the stars it wasn’t a man who’d seen me so broken.
I pulled my feet out from beneath the blanket and tested my weight. My legs held. I struggled to stand, swiping the axe belt off the floor next to my makeshift bed. Then I froze. The bag wasn’t there. I plunged my hand into my pockets, but they were empty. The comb was gone too.
Across the room, the woman folded a pair of trousers. She set them on a table and reached for the next. Had her skirt looked so new when she’d found me? And that shirt—it was too bright, too fancy to belong to a laundry woman.
“Give them back,” I snapped. “The comb and the coin sack.”
She snorted, her back still turned. “What comb? And I’d remember if ye had money, believe me.”
