Iron Tide Rising

by Carrie Ryan

  “Marrill!” Serth shouted.

  The edge of the mirror burst in a shower of golden sparks. Energy vibrated up her arm, setting fire to the tips of her nerves. There was a shattering sound, so loud it sent a shock wave rolling through her. She swung again, the booming growing louder with each strike.

  She was dimly aware of someone shouting her name. It was Fin, standing several yards away. Too afraid of the Evershear to come any closer. “Watch out!” he cried, pointing.

  The rumor vines twined around the stern railing repeated his warning.

  She looked up as the large mirror she’d been attacking let out a thunderous groan. It tilted toward her with a series of loud pops, as if pulling free from the very fabric of reality itself.

  The world around her seemed to slow. Marrill stood frozen with her head thrown back, staring at the reflection above.

  Her mother pushed herself up from the bench, one hand outstretched toward future Marrill, just outside the frame. A hand entered the picture, then a wrist and an arm. Marrill sucked in a breath, waiting to see herself. But the Iron Tide got there first. It took the figure standing outside the frame—freezing future Marrill’s fingers into an outstretched iron claw.

  “No!” Marrill cried. The rumor vines took up her call, echoing her plea:

  “Marrill,” Fin whispered, coming up on one side. On the other, she could feel Serth’s shadow reaching for her.

  The Kraken continued to gain speed even as the mirror continued to fall toward Marrill. About to crush her. But she didn’t care. She only cared that her mother’s hand still reached for her, her fingers still alive.

  Marrill swung the Evershear one last time. In rage. In pain. In desperation.

  The world exploded in a shower of golden sparks. The stern dipped, the deck twisted as the mirror crashed against the railing, splintering it. But the Kraken was moving fast enough, and Remy spun the wheel sharply enough, that the mirror only struck a glancing blow before falling away.

  And then it was gone.

  Marrill stood, the Evershear by her side, breathing hard as she stared at the empty space that had once held the possibility of saving her mother.

  She’d failed.

  Serth’s arm fell across her shoulder, its touch surprisingly tender. But he said nothing, just let her be. Gentle fingers brushed Marrill’s hand as Fin took the Evershear and carefully resheathed it on his hip.

  “It’ll be okay, Marrill,” Fin told her. “You’ll get another chance to save her.”

  Her throat burned too much to respond. She wanted to believe him, but in her heart she knew he was wrong. Even if the Tide hadn’t taken the mirror, she’d cut it free of the Stream. Cut it free from the realm of possibilities. That future, the one with her mom healthy, holding her arms wide for Marrill to hug her, was lost now, forever.

  Because of her.

  A shudder rippled across the deck as the Kraken careened off another mirror, jolting sideways. “A little help?” Remy called, her voice strained.

  “Come,” Serth said, his arm falling from her shoulders. “We must look forward.” He turned and left them. Fin moved to follow. But Marrill’s feet felt leaden. She wanted to curl up, put her arms over her head, and hide from the world.

  If she did, though, the Master would destroy everything else she loved. Including Ardent. She couldn’t let that happen.

  “Hey,” Fin said, his voice nearly silent. “You coming?”

  Marrill tried to force a smile, but couldn’t quite manage. “Right behind you.”

  Fin nodded. As if knowing she needed to be alone for a moment, he scampered toward the bow to help navigate.

  Marrill remained where she was, looking back. Watching as the Iron Tide swept across the gap that had once held her possible future. Watching it swallow all the other possibilities as well.

  Marrill let out a long sigh, then turned and started after Fin. Her foot struck something, sending it skittering across the deck. Light glinted from its surface as it spun.

  A shard of glass. She crouched to get a better look. And her heart lurched. Because there was her mother. Still laughing. Still alive. Still healthy and old. No trace of the Iron Tide anywhere.

  “Mom,” she whispered.

  Marrill snatched up the sliver, turning it in her hands, trying to understand. She must have cut it free from the mirror as it was falling toward the Kraken. It didn’t seem to matter that it was just a fragment of the whole; the possibility contained inside was still complete in every way. Every piece of a broken mirror was a mirror in and of itself, she realized.

  Marrill closed her eyes, breathed deep. For a long moment, she allowed a fire of hope to blaze inside her. She’d succeeded. Her ideal future was safe in her hands. They just needed to stop the Master, and then she could make this possibility real.

  She’d found a way to save her mom after all.

  She was so focused on the shard and what it meant, Marrill didn’t feel the hair along her arms begin to stand on end, or the tingle at the nape of her neck. Not until it was too late.

  The world around her exploded in a flash of red, knocking her off her feet. A thunderous roar shook the Kraken, rattling the mirrors strung throughout the web. Marrill had just enough time to shove the shard in her pocket before the Kraken lurched, sending her tumbling.

  She clutched at the stern railing, her stomach roiling as the deck pitched and rolled like it might in the worst of storms. She almost expected to hear the crash of waves and feel the drenching rain. But the Mirrorweb was devoid of such things.

  A streak of crimson split the air behind them, arcing from one mirror to the next. It was followed by another and another, a web of red lightning dancing between the mirrors. The bolts blasted across iron and glass with an energy so intense Marrill’s teeth hummed.

  She held her breath. She knew what was happening, even before the lightning web parted. Even before the iron prow hove into view, or before her ears rang with the clanging of the chain-mail sails.

  He was here.

  The Master of the Iron Ship had arrived.

  CHAPTER 14

  Striking Distance

  Alarm sent Fin’s heart into overdrive. The Iron Ship bore down, its razor-sharp hull towering above them, poised to sever the Kraken in two. The Master stood at her stern, legs braced, the iron cage holding Rose clutched in his hand.

  Remy screamed.

  “Brace yourselves!” Serth shouted.

  The next thing Fin knew, he was falling. The entire ship barrel-rolled, turning upside down. Lines sprang from the rigging, Ropebone Man grabbing items and crew and pirats as they tumbled free. But as usual, Ropebone wouldn’t remember Fin. He was on his own.

  He fumbled for his skysails, frantically tugging the strings and throwing his arms wide. The material caught, slowing his fall. But there was no wind in the Mirrorweb—at least none that Fin could feel—which made it next to impossible to steer.

  At least he was no longer plummeting to his death, he thought. Even if he wasn’t quite sure how he’d make it back to the Kraken. She’d continued forward, completely upside down. The Iron Ship crashed past her, their keels scraping against each other with a grinding screech.

  “Not so fast, Plus One! No kid goes missing on my watch,” Remy called. She cupped a hand around her mouth. “Man overboard, Ropebone!”

  A line shot from the ship and snaked around Fin’s ankle. He’d barely let out a relieved breath when it pulled tight, snapping him forward. He tumbled, dragged behind the Kraken as she slalomed through the maze of mirrors.

  Beside him, Marrill dangled from a rope of her own. “YooooOoOoOoOu ooOoOkAaAaAYyYy??” she asked.

  Up ahead, a huge scaly face burst out of a porthole. “Hey, hey, hey!” yelled the Naysayer. “Ancient being trying to nap down here.”

  He looked back at Marrill and Fin flailing through the air, then over at the Iron Ship, smashing through the glass maze of infinite mirrors. “Eh,” he said. “I can sleep through this.” And j
ust like that, he was gone again.

  Fin tumbled through the air, trying desperately to regain some control. Beside him, Marrill wrestled herself upright. She took the rope between her hands, leaning back with her feet splayed out beneath her. She wasn’t exactly standing on anything… but then again, the ships weren’t exactly sailing through anything, either.

  “It’s like waterskiing,” she shouted, eyes bright.

  Fin shook his head, struggling, and failing, to copy her stance. “Not much of that on the Pirate Stream.”

  She laughed. “Guess not.” She scrunched up her nose, thinking. “Remember when you taught me to skate down the gutters of the Khaznot Quay? It’s like that!”

  Fin smiled at the memory. He twisted himself around, grabbing the rope so he could try to stand. He wobbled a bit at first, but after a few tentative moments, he got the hang of it. Together they skied behind the Kraken as Serth shouted directions from the front. The ship turned, arcing away from the path of the Iron Ship. Ahead, though, Fin could see the black vessel swooping, changing course as if to follow. He sure hoped the Kraken could outpace the Master.

  “It’s fun, right?” Marrill asked. The melancholy that had clung to her just moments ago seemed to have vanished.

  Fin laughed. “Yeah, when you don’t think about what’s chasing us!”

  Marrill rolled her eyes. “There’s always something chasing us. If we don’t have fun when we can, we’d… pretty much never have fun at all!” She dug her feet into the empty air, skidding closer to him and bumping his shoulder playfully.

  Fin shrugged. “I guess you’re right.” Still, he was amazed at how quickly she’d gotten over the mirror with her mom in it.

  On the other hand, burying pain was something he knew well. He’d taken more than a few blows recently. Ones he still felt in a place so deep down that he hadn’t even known it was there until it hurt. But a Quay kid knew how to make a rough landing. And how to pop up again, smiling like nothing had happened.

  Some days, the person you most needed to fool was yourself.

  Up ahead, Serth appeared at the stern of the Kraken, a shard of black amid the green leaves of the rumor vines furled around the back railing. His hands fluttered, beckoning.

  “Children,” he shouted back to them, “I command you—to come up!”

  The next thing Fin knew, they were swinging through the air.

  “No, don’t listen to the vines,” Serth shouted as they shot past.

  The rope carried them in a broad arc, up and over the Kraken. Just as they passed over the mainmast, Fin reached out and snagged the very tip of it. He held a hand to Marrill, pulling her after him. They wobbled for a moment, perched on the top of the moonraker’s yard, high at the top of the mast.

  “Do you see the Master?” Remy called up to them.

  Together they clung to the mast, scouring the Mirrorweb for any hint of the Iron Ship. But there was nothing.

  Marrill let out a laugh, her cheeks still flushed and eyes bright. “I think you lost him,” she shouted. “Nice job!”

  Remy slumped with relief. “Keep an eye out,” she told them. “Just in case.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” Marrill said with a salute.

  Fin let out a long breath as he slid down to sit on the yard, his feet dangling. His heart slowed as Marrill settled in beside him.

  Overhead the mirrors were filled with possibilities that looked like galaxies and far-off worlds, bright pinpricks of light shivering in the darkness. It was almost peaceful.

  Almost. Fin glanced around, still wary of the Iron Ship. But it was gone. Somehow it had vanished.

  Marrill sighed, craning her neck back, admiring their surroundings with an expression of wonder. “Sometimes it’s easy to forget how amazing the Pirate Stream is.” She waved a hand at the mirrors around them, worlds lush with plants and alive with animals of any shape and size imaginable. “All of this is possible. They’re not just dreams or make-believe.

  “It’s like”—she chewed on her lip a moment, thinking—“it’s like magic is nothing more than imagination made real. That’s what this place is.”

  She shook her head, a flicker of sadness crossing her face. “I just can’t believe Ardent would destroy it all.”

  Fin squirmed. He couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “But he will, Marrill. He already has. That’s why we have to kill the Master. To save the Stream. We can’t wait any longer. We can’t risk it.”

  Her face went dark. “We talked about this,” she said, the wonder and awe in her voice gone. “The Dawn Wizard said we could save the Stream and Ardent.”

  He laid a hand over hers, hoping to get her to understand. He loved Ardent, too. But he loved the Stream more. “He chose to become the Master. He knew what he was doing.”

  She jerked her hand out from under his and started to climb down the ratlines strung between the high braces. “People can make bad decisions,” she said angrily, stomping from line to line.

  Fin snatched a rope from the rigging and slid down it, giving a nod to the bobbing paper face of the Ropebone Man as he went. A second later, he dropped to the next yard. They were face-to-face again. “You have to let him go, Marrill.”

  Her cheeks flushed red as she glared at him. “I’m not giving up on him.”

  Fin was about to press the argument, when a shadow cut across them both. He looked up just as the Iron Ship broke into view, so close that the bowsprit almost clipped the mast where they’d been perched moments before.

  Fin wobbled. Marrill reached for him, grabbing hold. The Iron Ship dipped as it bore down on them.

  “Come on!” Marrill cried, dragging him toward the ratlines.

  He glanced between her and the hull of the Iron Ship, cutting toward them. The Master standing at her stern.

  Almost within reach.

  He pulled free from Marrill. “You go.” Instead of heading down, he started back up toward the moonraker’s yard.

  “Fin!” Marrill called after him. “What are you doing?”

  He didn’t look back, didn’t respond. He didn’t have time. The Iron Ship banked around them, cutting closer and closer. Rose’s shrill cries rang out, her scribbled wings beating uselessly against the iron bars of the cage still clutched in the Master’s hand.

  Fin planted his feet, hand tight around the hilt at his hip. The Master swung into view. Only feet away. If Fin jumped, he could land inches from his face. His timing would have to be perfect.

  But he was the Master Thief of the Khaznot Quay. His timing was always perfect.

  Marrill continued shouting at him, but he ignored her. He slipped the Evershear from its sheath. He judged the speed of the Kraken, the speed of the Iron Ship, the tilt between them.

  He leapt.

  And then—

  —he swung.

  His blade arced through the air, straight toward the Master.

  It would have been a direct hit. It should have been a direct hit. In one swing Fin would have pierced the Master’s armor and saved the Stream.

  If not for Marrill.

  She grabbed his leg, pulling him off balance. The Evershear swung through empty space, its tip barely skipping across the Master’s breastplate. Just enough to leave a jagged scar. Not enough to penetrate.

  Kicking in midair, Fin tried to compensate. Tried to bring the blade around for another swipe in the split second before gravity pulled him down. But he’d missed his chance. The Master twisted away. The Evershear sliced past him, missing him completely.

  But in dodging Fin’s attack, the Master rolled his other shoulder forward, compensating for the loss of balance. The iron cage holding Rose swung like a pendulum on its chain, arcing forward as the Master himself fell back.

  The Evershear collided with it as Fin fell, slicing cleanly through the bottom and shearing it in two. A ball of scribbled ink burst forth as Fin plummeted from the rigging. Drawn wings stretched wide above him, black squiggles frenetic with newfound freedom.

  Fin snagge
d a line on his way down. It nearly yanked his shoulder out of its socket, but at least it kept him alive as he crashed to the deck. Fortunately, the Evershear didn’t cut him or the ship. He quickly resheathed it before it could cause any damage.

  Overhead, the Master let out a roar of fury. Rose banked sharply, diving. She gained speed, putting distance between herself and the Iron Ship.

  The Master’s eyes fell on Fin, two blue-hot coals wreathed in crackling flames of red lightning. Energy burst from his fingertips, streaking in every direction. Fin cringed, bracing for the sear of it blasting his body to cinders.

  Instead, it splintered and vanished in midair. Serth stood at the railing, both hands raised, blocking the Master’s assault as best he could. But more lightning followed it, and more after that. It was obvious the Master was too powerful. With Ardent, the match had been nearly even—which made sense, now that they knew the Master was Ardent. But with Serth, there was little comparison. The black-robed wizard stumbled back, his face awash in pain.

  “Sail, you fool!” Serth shouted to Remy.

  “I’m working on it!” She spun the wheel hard and pushed them into a dive. For a minute, Fin was weightless. The deck dropped beneath him. He scrabbled to grab hold of a nearby bulkhead, letting out a whoop as the ship carried him down, down, down.

  Ahead, Rose twisted, slipping easily between the mirrors. “Follow her through that gap,” Fin gasped, trying to talk around a stomach that had lodged in his throat.

  Remy shot him an anxious glance. “What if it isn’t wide enough for us?”

  Fin didn’t have a good answer. “Brace for impact?”

  Remy scowled at him. Or at least he assumed she did beneath her mask of bandannas. One had slipped to the side slightly, he noticed. An odd shadow seemed to twist on the exposed skin underneath.

  The ship hurtled forward, still gaining speed as she dropped. Rose zipped and wove, the Kraken right behind her. And then the bird dove again, disappearing between two massive mirrors that faced each other, creating a glass canyon with no bottom, barely the Kraken’s width apart. It was too late for Remy to pull out of the dive, or veer off. They were going too fast.