I select one of the smaller ships, a vessel along the edges of the fleet formation. Fewer chances for us to be seen, this way. And should we get caught, there will be a smaller crew for us to battle.
The Serpent is the perfect choice. Lanterns are lit on its decks, but there is little movement. The majority of the crew must be below, hopefully already asleep.
I find a handhold on the ship, a line tied down along the side. Riden reaches an arm up and begins climbing first, water running down his body, trickling into my eyes as I follow after him.
He stops at one of the gun ports and pokes his head inside. After a few breaths, he hauls himself through, and I follow after.
The gun deck is empty, but not quiet. We can hear voices below us, trickling up from the open stairway at the opposite end of the ship.
The water from my clothes pools onto the floor. I whisper a song to expel some of the power before absorbing the water and drying myself.
Riden huffs out a breath before pointing to himself.
We won’t make it far with his boots squeaking or the sound of water dripping.
Without saying a word, I press him back against the empty wall between two cannons, and cover his body with mine. More words float on the air from my mouth, much too quiet to be heard by anyone other than Riden. Then I start to draw the water from him.
He lets out a little gasp as he starts to dry. Of fear or awe or something else entirely, I’m not sure. My head is over his shoulder, my hands roaming his hair, his back, drawing every last drop into me.
“My backside is still wet,” he teases.
“Deal with it.”
I smack his shoulder and glimpse his amused face before turning away. I realize now that I’d been touching, well, a lot of him. Something I haven’t done since the last time we kissed.
A time that seems forever ago.
But there’s no time for those kinds of thoughts. Thirsty crew. I have a thirsty crew.
The galley is one deck above us. We take the stairs carefully, watching the lower decks to make sure no one looks up. I can see two heads of hair from up here. A couple of men sit on the stairs, laughing loudly at some joke a person I can’t see said.
We veer around tables and benches to reach the storage rooms in the back. Drying meats hang from the ceiling in the kitchen. The stove is full of nothing but soot and ash. The dishes from their dinner are already clean and put away.
A locked door provides us little trouble. I didn’t bring my lockpicks with me, but I use a knife to pull apart the hinges.
A light scraping noise is all the sound I make. We freeze, but no one comes running. Not with all of the chatter below to mask what we’re doing.
Inside, we find an assortment of foods: breads, pickled vegetables, flour, sugar, and other cooking ingredients.
And in the back: water barrels.
Riden cracks one open, sticks his whole head in, and drinks.
“Careful, you’ll make yourself sick,” I say.
“I don’t care,” he says and dips his head in again.
When he’s done, we carry the barrels (one at a time, the two of us using our combined strength) down the stairs, back to the gun deck. From there, we tie them together with rope found on the ship. Then we toss them out the gun ports.
Riden starts to climb through the hole, but I halt him.
“Just a moment.”
I open the storage rooms off the gun deck, these ones unlocked, smiling when I find what I’m looking for.
I sling an ax through the belt around my corset.
Riden eyes it, but doesn’t ask any questions before holding me again as we fall back into the water. When we surface, we’re both smiling at our success.
“Can you wait here for a moment?” I ask him.
“Where are you going?”
“To slow down the fleet.”
“With an ax?”
I grin wider before dunking my head below the surface. I swim far below the ships, sizing up the hulls, until I find the largest of them at the head of the fleet.
And just like I did with the harpoon during the sea battle, I swim like a shot for the Dragon’s Skull, the ax held out in front of me with two hands, angled so the honed blade will hit first. It connects with the rudder, sending a sharp reverberation up my arms. The whole ship must jerk at the contact. I wonder what my father will make of it.
I brace my feet on the base of the ship, tugging at the break until the rudder comes clean off. With my work done, I return for Riden and the barrels.
The swim back is the best swim of my life.
I’m me, fully in control. I’m towing the water that will save my crew’s lives right behind me. Four glorious barrels’ worth. And the best part is, if we need more, Riden and I can make the trip again to another ship.
It’s nearly dawn when we catch back up to the Ava-lee.
“Toss down a hook and line!” I shout.
The call is obeyed, and I place the hook around a section of rope looping the barrels together.
“Tug!”
They pull the barrels from the water. I hear them bounce onto the deck. Another line is thrown down to help Riden and me up.
As we step onto the deck, we’re met with the sounds of slurping, swallowing, laughing. Laughing.
They take turns, sharing freely, passing cups around.
And when they’re done, they have me surrounded. Hugging me, clapping me on the back, murmuring sorrys and thank yous.
“I couldn’t have done it without Riden,” I say, and then they leave me to surround him.
Niridia catches my eye, and I stride over to her. She scratches at the bandage over her left hand.
“Captain, I apologize,” she says. “I shouldn’t have argued with you in front of the crew. I shouldn’t have spoken so directly, I—”
“Don’t you go calling me ‘captain.’ Not right now,” I say, hugging her.
She lifts her head from my shoulder, looking behind us. “The fleet is gone.”
I grin. “That’s because I took out the Dragon Skull’s rudder before Riden and I left.”
“Of course you did.”
I would love to stay and celebrate with the rest of them, but I’ve been up all night. “I’m going to sleep. Keep things running out here?”
“Of course.”
*
I hear them out on the deck, their laughter and singing. Someone else must pull out Haeli’s lute and strike up a song. It makes my heart warm to think of how they’re honoring her. By keeping what she loved most alive.
I’m so tired, still fully dressed in my corset and boots. I take off the latter and pad over to my wardrobe.
Knocking.
I hope Niridia doesn’t have bad news for me.
“Come in,” I say, searching for some nightclothes.
I stop when I see not Niridia, but Riden enter my bedroom.
“Aren’t you tired?” I ask him. I’ve had the sea nourish me for hours today, so if I’m sleepy, he must be exhausted.
“I don’t think I could sleep right now,” he says.
“Why not?” I step away from the wardrobe, face him.
“I can’t stop thinking about what we’ve been doing together. All the practicing. Can’t stop wondering why it’s me that keeps you human.”
My heart pounds heavier in my chest, but I shrug. “One of life’s mysteries,” I say.
I turn my attention back to the clothing in front of me, but his footsteps grow closer.