An Immortal Descent

“There,” I pointed. “Do you see him? I think he’s waving a hat.”

 

 

Justine stared for a moment longer. Then she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Selah. We’re too far away for me to see anything clearly.”

 

The wind strained in the sails, pushing us even farther downriver. I blinked again, but everything on shore mixed together into an incongruent mess.

 

Justine looked at me closely. “Are you sure you heard your name? Could it have been a trick of the wind?”

 

“It could have been anything,” I admitted. The wind, a seagull, Henry...

 

“Well, there’s nothing to be done now other than wait and see.”

 

I gave my head a quick shake to clear it. Exhausted and worried beyond reason, it was no wonder my imagination was spinning like a pinwheel—first a ghost in Brigid’s garden, then my name through the midst of a storm. Would mermaids be next? Or perhaps Poseidon himself. Though he hailed from warmer waters, and any spotting would most likely be of the Celtic god Lir—

 

Oh, dear Lord, I’ve gone daft in the head.

 

Another hard shake put my thoughts to right. Sean was dead, Henry was aboard a ship bound for Wexford, and there would be no godly sightings from the Sea Witch.

 

With a sigh, I turned to go, only to run straight into the captain’s chest. Glancing up, the sigh stuck in my throat from the nearness of his face. “Hurry below, ladies,” he said softly. “Your good health is of the utmost importance to me.”

 

Justine put a protective hand around my waist and pulled me close. “Your concern is most appreciated, Captain. We shall not dally a moment longer.”

 

He dipped a shallow bow, taking in the length of my aunt as he moved aside to allow us by.

 

Julian waited at the hatch, a watchful eye on Captain Lynch. “Everything all right?”

 

“Just a noise in the wind,” I said. “How’s Mr. Roth?”

 

The captain stormed away amidst a string of orders. Julian turned to me, his sharp gaze protective to the point of possessive. “Not well. We’ll need a bed and a bucket if he’s to survive the voyage in one piece.”

 

The sound of retching came up from below. “Aah! Not there! Not there!” Master Calhoun bellowed as liquid splashed on the floor.

 

“Oh, dear. Here we come, Mr. Roth.” I descended the stairs with Justine and Julian close behind. At the bottom, my aunt retrieved a linen kerchief to help filter the stench of vomit that had mixed with the heavy scents of coffee and spices.

 

“Mind your steps,” Master Calhoun called, rather irritably. “Your friend’s after heaving on me boots.”

 

I went to James, who was bent over, his hands propped on his knees for support. He groaned when I touched his shoulder. “Sorry to be such a nuisance.”

 

“Nonsense,” I said, helping him to stand upright. “You’ve nothing to apologize for.” Calhoun grunted something unintelligible. Julian supported James’s other side, taking much of the weight from me.

 

A girl appeared out of nowhere, a lantern held close in one hand. The circle of light illuminated a plain heart-shaped face and mousy-brown hair as she stared silently at Master Calhoun.

 

“About time, me lass.” He took the lantern from her. “Clean up this mess afore the captain lays eyes upon it.”

 

She nodded, her face set in a blank stare.

 

“Come for me boots when you’re done.”

 

She nodded once more, then slinked back into the darkness, I assumed for a bucket and brush.

 

Master Calhoun held up the lantern and jerked his head to the side. “This way, if you will. Let’s get that lad off his feet.”

 

We followed him past stacks of crates, down a narrow passageway to a low wooden door. Fumbling with the latch, Calhoun moved aside when the door swung open and he handed the lantern to Justine. “Here you be, nice and snug just like I promised.” We filed one by one into the small room, comprised of four bare wooden walls, low ceiling, and no window. “You’ve two bunks and a bucket in the corner for any calls o’ nature. A lad will be by shortly with fresh water.”

 

James groaned again. We helped him to one of the bunks where he curled to one side, giving no thought to his wet clothing or boots. I sat beside him, removed my gloves and waited.

 

“Thank you, Master Calhoun,” Justine said. “We shall be fine from here.”

 

“You’ve fifteen hours to port so you best get some rest.” He began to pull the door closed, then stopped. “I’ll not advise wandering the ship. If’n you need anything, send a lad to fetch me.”

 

“Yes, of course,” Julian said brusquely, without inquiring as to which lad we were to send. “We must see to our friend now.”

 

“Good luck to you.” Master Calhoun chuckled, and the door clicked shut.

 

Justine removed her wet cloak and flopped down on the other bunk. “That man gives me the willies,” she said in a low voice.

 

Kari Edgren's books