It’s no sailor’s yarn, this is real, Selena thought, her body rigid with fear.
She watched the main deck as if it were a nightmare unfurling before her eyes. Ilior clung to a gunwale on the port side, scrabbling his legs to keep from sliding across the planks. Cur, clinging to a loose line, grabbed Whistle as the boy almost went overboard. A trio of barrels holding fresh water snapped free of their lines and went careening across the deck. One struck Grunt, knocking him down and rolling over him. Somehow, under the cacophony, Selena heard the snap of the old sea dog’s leg. His face contorted in silent scream. She looked behind her in time to see the wheel spin free of Cat’s grasp and send the woman sprawling to the boards. Svoz was nowhere to be seen.
Selena started to call for him but it was too late and there were too many merkind. We never had a chance.
Another voice spoke in her mind; a husky woman’s voice, tinged with wry amusement. Skye’s voice.
I’m sure you can think of something.
Selena banished the thought before it could take root in her mind.
The merkind had ceased their song and now swam among the spinning waters of the maelstrom. Selena saw tails and fins and streams of coppery hair flowing gracefully with the current, ready to escort the broken ship to the Deeps and its crew to their watery graves. The ship went round and round…
You can stop this. You know how…
“No!” Selena cried out, as a terrible fear wrapped itself around her heart, numbing her more than the cold water that soaked her through.
Julian appeared in her line of vision and gripped her about the collar. Water poured over his face that was contorted with real fear—the first strong emotion Selena had ever seen him wear. He’d found his long black coat again and it whipped behind him.
“Do it!” he screamed above the tumult. “Do it now! Before it’s too late!”
His words batted at the stupor of fear that enveloped her, but did not break it. He yanked her so that their noses were nearly touching.
“You can’t close your wound from under the bloody godsdamn sea!”
Water plastered her hair to her cheeks. She shook her head, trembling. “Not again. Last time…the god…”
There came a crack, like lightning. The foremast’s topsail yard, its torn sail flapping behind it, crashed down, tearing down rigging as it went before splintering into pieces over the main deck.
Julian clutched her tighter. “Save my ship.” He was no longer shouting but she heard him anyway. “Save us.”
Then he released her suddenly and loped down to the main deck, toward Grunt. A deluge of icy water crashed over him, rolling him across the deck and the splintered yard.
Another wave crashed and cold water bit Selena to her bones, reminding her of the first weeks and months of the wound, reminding her of the cost of casting such a spell.
Water plastered her hair to her face, blinded and stung her eyes, but she could still see Whistle. He sobbed soundlessly as he clung to Cur, who held the boy in his bloodied hands. She saw Grunt, crouched against the starboard gunwale, holding his leg, his face ashen. Julian was beside him, blood seeping through a gash in his side and leaking over the deck that was awash in seawater and debris. Niven and Cat were out of Selena’s sight, possibly lost.
A different kind of terror swelled in her heart. The Black Storm was below the lip of the maelstrom, and the curl of water was filled with merkind; shadows who swam along its spinning current. One more revolution, and the ship would capsize and break apart.
And we’ll die.
Ilior had found his way to her. “Selena…”
“Ilior,” she cried, tears streamed down her cheeks already wet with the sea. “I can’t…”
“You can,” he croaked. “It’s not like last time…”
The ship canted more steeply. One final curve…
“No!” Selena screamed. At the storm, at the merkind, at the fear that clutched her in its merciless grip. “I can’t do it! Never again! Gods, please, never again…”
“Once more,” Ilior said. “You can…”
“They all died, Ilior!” She sobbed. “I killed them all!”
“No one dies!” Ilior cried. “This time, no one dies!”
Selena clung to the rail with both hands, unwilling to let go. The terror shook her worse than any cold; her wound pulsed with it, her heart raced so that she could scarcely breathe. No one dies, but they would all die. This time, if she did nothing she’d kill the crew. You’ll die too with a final thought rattling in your head that you could have saved them instead…but for your own selfish fear.
With a half-sob, half scream, Selena tore herself from the rail. She felt Ilior’s hand on her sword belt, steadying her, propping her up. May the god have mercy…she thought and then with a long, drawn out susurration of the syllables, she spoke the sacred words.
She called the sea.
“Undai portat aestan estus.”
The last word left her lips just as the Black Storm rounded its last curve. Selena felt a surge of magic well up from the bottom of the ocean, through the ship, through her booted feet, through her body, and up, up, to her raised arms.
Too much! It’s too much!
Her terror swelled until she thought she’d go mad. A cry tore out of her throat as the power surged out of control, upward and out of her body, leaving her hollow inside.
Like Isle Calinda. I am a fool…
She was torn out of Ilior’s grasp and thrown forward. The deck rose to meet her and she struck it hard, her head knocking against the planks. She could not raise her cheek from the cold, damp wood. From under the howling wind and churning water, she heard the merkind, not in the unison of song but keening in panicked terror and anger.
The ship was rising. Some giant had reached its hand down and had lifted the Black Storm out of the swirling mouth of the merkind’s maelstrom. Selena struggled to her feet and hooked her fingers onto the rail. By sheer force of will, she hauled herself to standing and peered over the side.
There was no giant. There was nothing. The ship was suspended in the air, high above the maelstrom that was collapsing in on itself. From this high vantage, Selena saw the perfect swirls degenerate into a boiling froth of white foam, like a soup left on the kettle too long.
We’re flying, Selena thought as the ship hung on the edge of nothing. Exhaustion infused her to the core but her bleary mind grasped what was happening when the ship canted downward.
We’re atop a wave. My wave…