The Path of the Storm (Evermen Saga, #3)

"What do you want?" Miro said. He knew he would do anything to prevent Amber being thrown over the side again.

"Thanks to the lovely lady here…" Carver frowned down at Amber's comatose form. The sheer nightdress she'd worn when they were captured had ridden up to the backs of her thighs, now made transparent by the water. It clung to her breasts, while the sailors leered at her nipples. "Cover her up!" Carver cried.

A blanket was thrown over her.

"Where was I?" the rat-faced man asked. "Thanks to the lovely lady here, we've lost most of our provisions. Whatever her device was, it destroyed half our food and water and put a hole in the hull. The seawater ruined much of what was left of our stores. We've managed to stabilise the hull and pump out the water, but we're now in a predicament."

Miro looked around, trying to gauge the mood of the sailors. Those close by were definitely Carver's men, but some of the men in the rigging were stone-faced. Miro guessed that Amber's device had made Carver's plans go awry. He had probably planned to kill them all quietly and make up some story for the authorities. Now, with the sailors witness to the mutiny, there would be no turning back for Carver and his supporters.

Miro received an enigmatic look from Werner, the helmsman. He remembered that Werner had done little more than wave his cutlass around, and wondered if he had a potential ally.

"So," Carver continued, "we've been left with no choice. We have to find these islands of yours in order to reprovision. That book's been cut into ribbons. Where are the islands? What can you tell us?"

Carver looked significantly at Amber. Miro had read over Toro Marossa's directions enough to commit them to memory.

With no other choice, Miro told him everything he knew.

~

AMBER moaned through her gag.

"What is it?" Miro asked.

She wriggled until her back was to Miro and he could see her hands. Her wrists were tied too tightly, with blood seeping at the edges of the twine, and her hands were white with pink spots.

Looking through the bars of their small cell, Miro couldn't see any of Carver's men. They had been left to their own devices as Carver fought to keep control of the ship and make as much headway as possible. If Carver couldn't find the Ochre Isles, they would all die of thirst.

Miro threw his body flat onto the ground, feeling the pain of his own bonds cut into his wrists. He kicked with his legs until his mouth was close to Amber's hands.

Miro took some cord into his mouth until his tongue found one of the tough sailor's knots, and he began to chew.

He kept his ears pricked for the sound of anyone coming to the brig; often the bare-foot sailors were difficult to hear. If he managed to free Amber's hands they would be punished, but there was no use worrying about the future. Amber must be in excruciating pain, and Miro needed to do something about it now.

Miro had managed to loosen one of the knots. He worked at it with his teeth and tongue until he could feel the cord stretch and give. Amber moaned again.

Miro moved to the next knot, learning the knack of it now. His teeth hurt and his jaw ached but he kept working until he felt the knot go. Amber wriggled her hands and he felt her sigh with relief. He continued until the cord fell away and Amber's hands were freed.

She rubbed at her wrists, her eyes closed and chest heaving, and then she pulled the gag away from her mouth.

"What about your hands?" she whispered.

At that moment Miro felt the regular pounding of the ship on the waves slow, which could only mean Carver had reefed the sails. The motion of the ship calmed, and for the first time in an eternity the Delphin wasn't rolling on huge waves. Miro scampered over to their tiny window and looked out, then gasped.

"What is it?" Amber said.

"We're here," said Miro.

Miro was surprised at the pleasure he felt in seeing land for the first time in an eternity. Outside the window birds were wheeling over a nearby rocky outcrop. Miro's view was restricted, but he could see the galleon had just passed through a narrow channel, with a headland on one side and the treacherous darkness of a barrier reef on the other. The water was a vivid light blue, and they had entered a tranquil lagoon. He wished he could properly see land, but all he could see were the rugged trees that spotted the headland.

He heard the stroke of oars rumbling in their rowlocks and then a longboat entered his vision, pulling away from the ship with each of the men's strokes. Barrels were stacked high on the vessel, and Miro recognised Beck, the second mate, leading the provisioning party.

There was the grunting of men, and then a mighty splash as the Delphin's anchor was thrown out, plummeting through the water on a thick hawser of gnarled hemp.

Miro heard a throat clear outside the bars of their cell.

He twisted his body and saw the helmsman, Werner, standing and watching him silently.