The Ship Beyond Time (The Girl from Everywhere #2)
By: Heidi Heilig
Kash glanced at the captain, a furrow forming between his dark brows. In an instant, his expression changed to surprise as another tentacle slung over the rail to wind around his waist. Lightning flashed, and odd colors rippled over the creature’s flesh. It pulled—and Kashmir’s hand slipped from mine.
His knife clattered to the deck as he disappeared over the side.
“Kash!” Thunder rumbled, drowning out my scream. I rushed toward the rail, ready to leap into the dark water, but something grabbed me roughly by the arm and hauled me back.
My father.
With a cry, I shoved him away. He reeled, still reaching for me with bloody hands; the ship spun like a weathervane with no one at the wheel. “Nixie,” he gasped. “He’s gone!”
The words hit me like a slap, but Billie started howling again, and before I could respond, I was thrown to my knees. The Temptation bucked like a wild thing as another tentacle heaved onto the deck.
It wound like a vine around the foremast. With a crack, the boom snapped, and the wet sail dropped over the squirming limb. Rotgut shouted curses from his perch in the crow’s nest as a second tentacle shook the main mast. A third wrapped itself around the captain’s right arm. Slate snarled like a dog, sinking his teeth into the monster’s slick flesh. The thing flinched, releasing him, and my father reached out for me. But I scrambled to my feet, swearing. “Just take the damn wheel!”
He stumbled back toward the helm as another wave hit us—this time over the bow—sending white spray high overhead as the tentacle undulated on the deck. Leaping over it, I pressed myself against the bulwark, ready to follow Kashmir over the side—but there he was, clinging to the rungs of the ladder embedded in the stern.
“Kashmir!” My voice was thick with relief, but he could not respond; the creature had a tentacle cinched around his chest, crushing the air from his lungs as waves crashed over his head. “Hold on!”
Fumbling on the deck, I grabbed his knife and wrapped my hands around the hilt. I leaned out over the bulwark, slashing downward, but the blade bounced off the monster’s leathery skin; had I swung with the dull edge? I changed my grip, but the creature released him to reach for me. Screaming, I hacked at the thing, and it wriggled away. Gritting his teeth, Kash hooked one elbow over the rail. Before he could pull himself back to the deck, the beast yanked him down again.
The sound of gunfire split the air as Bee leveled her revolver. The creature flailed, slamming a tentacle down at her feet. Boards splintered, but she stood her ground to reload until another arm reared up and knocked her backward. Bee rolled across the deck, her gun tumbling overboard.
Another tentacle swung past me to grasp the stem of the wheel. Slate stomped on it, swearing, while Bee wrestled with the arm winding about her torso. Billie danced across the deck, ripping into a coiling limb. But the stern sank lower as the dark bulk of the thing rose up from the water, looming through the fog.
Eyes bigger than my head gleamed in a flash of electric blue as the creature poured over the bulwark. It was enormous—the body alone taller than I was. There was another crack of thunder, and Kash cried out as one hand slipped free; he swung by his fingers as the ship tilted on the rising sea.
Waves drenched the deck. Another minute and the monster would capsize us, dragging us all down to the ocean floor. But it was like a hydra—each time I swung the blade, another arm appeared. The knife felt like a toothpick in my hand as I stared into the creature’s eyes, the pupils flat like a goat’s.
The eyes . . . the eyes. A thought . . . a memory came to me, something I’d read once: Hawaiian fishermen killed octopus by biting them between the eyes. Why was I hacking at the limbs? With a grimace, I drew back the knife and plunged it hilt-deep into the bulbous head.
A gout of black fluid washed the deck, darker than blood; the tentacles writhed like a nest of snakes. One caught me across the stomach, flinging me back. Dazed and gasping, I stared up as the arms fell slack around me. Was that a patch of night sky through the fog?
Relief came in a wave. If the mist was clearing, that meant we were nearly safe out of the Margins. As I lay there, the beast slid off the stern, limp and liquid, and sank into the deep, and the ship rose in the water. Pushing myself to my knees, I sucked in a breath. Then I staggered to the rail, ready to pull Kashmir up from the ladder.
He was gone.
For a moment I couldn’t make sense of it. I stared, stupidly, at the empty ladder, at the churning wake, at the thinning fog.
No.
No, no, no, no, no no no—
I didn’t stop. I didn’t think. I vaulted off the stern, hitting the dark waves like a hammer. The shattered sea collapsed over my head, but I fought the water, struggling upward, kicking frantically, finally bursting into the murky air.
“Kash!” I choked—my first call was drowned by the next wave. I spat. “Kashmir!”