Miss Bradley caught sight of us in the doorway. “Girls! Get in here! Thank Uros you’re safe.”
A number of the girls were praying to the god. A few others had gotten sick, but that was a small thing, compared to everything else going on. Mira and I found a corner and sat down, wrapping our arms around each other.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked.
She nodded, touching her ankle. “It’s sore, but nothing’s broken. A sprain, at most. I was lucky. The beam just fell in a way to trap me but didn’t crush it.”
I held her closer, trying to hold back my tears. “You saw that ship. Tamsin’s over there.”
“She’ll be okay,” Mira said fiercely. “She’s a survivor. She won’t let a storm stop her from landing a rich husband.”
But neither of us could find any humor in the thought. And really, I supposed we should worry just as much about ourselves as the roiling seas continued to toss us around. We clung to each other like that for hours, each of us holding our breath when we hit one of those tremendous waves that seemed certain to capsize us. It must have been the middle of the night by then, but there was no way any of us could sleep.
A lull came at one point, making me think we’d escaped, but it was short-lived before the storm swept us up again, plunging us into another excruciating vigil. When the heaving subsided again, returning us to a calmer pace, I didn’t trust it. I braced myself for another return of the tempest, but it didn’t come. Mira lifted her head from my shoulder and raised her gaze to mine, each of us thinking the same thing: Was it possible this was over?
Our answer came a little while later when Cedric arrived in our room. He too was pale, obviously shaken by what we’d just endured. He scanned the room, taking note of Mira and me in particular, and then turned to Miss Bradley.
“My father talked to the captain, and we’re out of it. Amazingly, no one was lost, and there was no damage to the ship. It’s unclear how the cargo fared, but we’ll figure that out later.” Around me, girls gave small cries of relief. “It’s still night, and as soon as the clouds clear, the captain can assess our position. In the meantime, get what rest you can.”
He left, and many of the girls took him up on the suggestion. Mira and I couldn’t sleep. We stayed together, adrenaline pushing us past exhaustion. The seas remained calm, and I did manage kind of a hazy trance near the end. Mira, who must have been keeping track of the time in her head, looked over at Miss Bradley. Our chaperone hadn’t slept either.
“It must be morning, ma’am,” Mira said. “Can we go above to see what’s happened?”
Miss Bradley hesitated. I knew her better judgment counseled we stay below, but her own curiosity won out. “All right,” she said. “If we go together. They may send us back below.”
She led us and the girls who were awake through the corridor and then up to the deck. Gray morning light greeted us, and we found we weren’t the only ones whose curiosity had been piqued. Many of our fellow passengers, including Jasper and Cedric, stood gazing around. Signs of damage and disarray were everywhere, but the ship sailed on strong and true. Sailors scurried around to make repairs and keep us moving.
“Look,” said Grant, coming up beside us. He pointed to the west.
Mira and I turned, jaws dropping, when we saw a dark, greenish line on the far horizon.
“I could’ve sworn that storm blew us to the ninth hell—but if so, it apparently blew us back,” he said. “That’s Cape Triumph.”
“Adoria,” I whispered. Slowly, a burst of joy flowered within me, penetrating the numbed state I’d been in since the storm. I turned toward Mira and saw my excitement mirrored in her. “Adoria!”
Somehow, by the grace of Uros, we’d survived the storm and reached the New World. I glanced around eagerly, expecting to see all of my companions gleeful and dancing. A few girls shared our excitement, but almost everyone else was subdued. Grim even. That included Cedric and his father.
I caught Cedric’s eye and was startled by the haunted look I saw there. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
He nodded toward a sailor who was holding a broken piece of wood. I stepped closer, trying to identify it. It looked like part of a woman’s face. I stiffened, knowing where I’d seen it before. The Gray Gull’s figurehead.
“Fished it out of the water,” he said.
“No,” I said. “No. It can’t be.”
And that’s when I noticed our sister ship was nowhere in sight. Every day of the trip, it had been in orbit. Sometimes ahead, sometimes behind, but always—always—close by.
But not any longer.
The first mate, standing nearby, gave a sad nod. “The Gray Gull has been lost.”
Chapter 12