“I think we’ve outrun the bastards,” he said finally. “Let’s head—”
Whistle let loose a piercing blast. Sebastian looked up to see the boy pointing frantically to the waters just aft of the ship. A moment later, Niven let out a cry of alarm.
“Niven!” Sebastian bellowed. “Get Selena!”
The adherent raced below, staggering slightly over the deck that canted under his feet.
Sebastian turned the wheel over to Helm and hurried to the rail. He peered into the white-capped waters of his ship’s wake. Three twisted merkind, their jaws impossibly unhinged and gaping, jumped and dove and jumped again, only spans away.
The colder waters had taken their toll; the merkind’s scales were gray and sloughing off in wide patches, and their skin had a blueish tinge to it. Of course, Sebastian had no way of knowing if that was actually due to the cold water. The merkind looked just as sick as those from the warmer waters, and if the cold hurt them, it sure as shit wasn’t slowing them down.
Of the three, one youthful mermaid was the fleetest. Her tail was smooth and shaped like a dolphin, though it looked bruised in places. She jumped and dove gracefully, an eerie contrast to her decimated appearance.
Selena climbed up to the quarterdeck, Niven at her side. She was bundled in a thick seal fur coat, and walked hunched over, like an old woman. Niven supported her while she held out her trembling hands. The merkind were drawing nearer, not three spans from touching the Black Storm.
Sebastian bit his tongue until it bled as Selena sent shards of light into the wake. The obscene screams that peeled up from the water were at once horrible and gratifying to hear. Sebastian watched in relieved satisfaction as all three—including that dolphin-tailed mermaid—recoiled and ceased their pursuit. They became lost in the white-capped wake and then Sebastian couldn’t see them at all. Selena slumped backwards against Niven, partly in relief, mostly in exhaustion. Sebastian nodded at her, and she nodded back, and then Niven helped her get belowdecks, to the galley and the oven where Ilior was crouched.
“Maintain northerly route,” Sebastian told Helm. “For now.”
“She’s cold,” Helm signed.
“Aye.”
“Maybe too much cold.”
Sebastian sighed. It had taken until the end of the first day of sailing from Uago for his crew to become smitten with the Aluren. She healed their rope burns and blisters with a gentle touch, and a smile that softened every one of the old salts, including Cur. Whistle was especially bad, mooning after her like a puppy, but Sebastian had thought Helm alone of all of them was immune to her charms.
I thought wrong.
“We have no choice,” Sebastian said. “We sail north.” He strode to the aft rail, his back to the wheel and his crewman.
Niven reemerged to retake his place at the watch.
“She can’t stand the cold.” His light hair hung in his eyes and he brushed it away with a distinctly boyish gesture. “To say nothing of Ilior.”
“Now here’s a familiar tune,” Sebastian muttered. “Right now we need a strong wind and we have one. Bloody bad luck that it’s blowing north, but at least we have it. If we veer too far south or east, we could lose the speed we need to outrun the merkind. Do you know how many of them are out there? Neither do I,” he answered before Niven could speak. “If the wind slackens or if we hit the doldrums, we could be overrun.”
Niven bit his lip, his face a mask of worry.
“If the possibility of a threat isn’t enough to sway you,” Sebastian snapped, “then perhaps the reality of our provisions will. Did you not tell me yesterday we are running low?”
Niven nodded. “But if we turn east now—”
“Our freshwater barrels are half empty too,” Sebastian said. “I give it a week before what’s left starts to go bad. We’re too far north to turn around now.”
“Where we will restock?”
“Isle Nanokar.”
“But, Nanokar is in the heart of the Ice Isles! She can’t withstand such cold! She already suffers…”
“I know that.” Sebastian gripped the rail so tightly his knuckles were white. “But it can’t be helped. It won’t do any of us any good to stay cozy and warm if it means being killed by merkind. You didn’t see what happened to Svoz. They killed him, boy. Him. A sirrak. Sucked him down and chewed him up. You saw the Seven Swords. That ship was like a shadow of itself. I’ll be bloody pissed before I let that happen to the Storm.”
“Very well,” Niven said, throwing his shoulders back. “I’ll tell her the situation. I’ve no doubt she’ll agree without complaint.”
“That’s because she knows we have no choice.” Sebastian retorted. He watched the churning white wake as the adherent left the quarterdeck. “None of us do.”
Selena searched for signs they were near the Ice Isles through her spyglass. As yet, there was no sign of the jagged white teeth of Nanokar’s icebergs. The sooner they arrived at Isle Nanokar, the sooner they could depart. The thought did little to assuage the fear that gnawed her gut. She stood on the main deck, bundled into her fur seal coat, shivering as if she were wearing nothing at all.
And when we’re encircled by Nanokar’s ice, what will become of me then?
She should have been down below, at Cook’s oven, but hours spent belowdecks crawled. Selena wanted to see the passage of the sea beneath the Black Storm. At least then she felt as though she was moving toward something instead of sitting hunched and suffering.
Foolish. I suffer more here, she thought and the fear twisted her insides harder. I am running out of tricks to fool myself that I can live with the wound much longer.
She watched the water slip under the Storm for a few moments more, and then started below. A plume of acrid smoke boiled up behind her. The crew went into a silent frenzy but for Julian who cried, “Fire!” and called for buckets of water.
Ilior and Niven scrambled from belowdecks just as the smoke cleared. Svoz was crouched on the deck, sodden and steaming. His blood-red skin was scarred in numerous places, scored by scratches and bite marks that looked only recently healed.
Julian heaved an audible sigh and ordered his silent crew back to their posts. They backed away from Svoz as if from a striking snake.
“You are well, Svoz?” Selena asked. “We had thought you had… passed on.”
“Am I well?” Twin plumes of smoke billowed out of the sirrak’s snout. “No, Master, I am distinctly unwell.”
“What happened?”
“The bite of those accursed fish people was severely injurious to my person, despite my superior stamina, strength, and changeable composition. They dragged me under where I could not alter myself and gnawed on my glorious form as if I were some sort of buffet. My doom was certain; especially since you abandoned me so terribly.”