The Ship Beyond Time (The Girl from Everywhere #2)
By: Heidi Heilig
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone leaping the gap from the ship—could they reach me in time? I hit Crowhurst again, but he didn’t even seem to feel it. He stepped back, and I clutched desperately at his sleeve, his shoulder. My hand tangled in the chain at his neck as he heaved me toward the sea.
I dragged him to his knees as I fell, one hand on the flask and one scrabbling at the edge of the wall. I let go of the chain and grasped the slick stone with both hands. The high tide pulled at my ankles as I struggled to haul myself up. Crowhurst scrambled to his feet above me. The chain had snapped; the flask slid to the wall and clanged on the stone beside his right foot. As I watched, he lifted his boot above my fingertips.
But then—over the wind, the sound of running feet, and a small shaped barreled into him.
My mother.
They grappled on the wall, he with new fury, and she, fierce but overmatched. Gasping, I dragged myself back up to the wall as he wrapped his hand around her throat. She beat at his chest with her fists, but he did not let go. But then a sound like the crack of a whip, and Crowhurst staggered, eyes wide. Above the red sash he wore, a darker crimson started to spread.
There, in the lee of the tower, Blake was propped up on his elbow, the silver derringer smoking in his hand.
Crowhurst met my eyes—in his own, the shock of loss. He took one step, then another. The third took him over the wall, and my mother went with him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The wind was screaming, and so was I. Out on the water, my father shouted Lin’s name as waves rammed the Temptation. The ship tilted on the tide, the stern swinging toward the wall; Slate had abandoned the helm to stare down at the clouds of spray, drifting up like smoke.
Bee scrambled for the wheel as it spun freely. But the captain only looked up at me, and the air between us seemed to dim and thicken before my eyes. His words were drowned out by the sound of the waves, but I knew what he said.
Then he leaped over the rail and vanished into the mist.
“Captain!”
I crawled to the edge of the wall. The water eddied and swirled in the fog below. On the wind, was that a siren song?
“Dad!”
There was no sign of him.
“Mom!”
No sign of either of them, as the waves splintered into fog and obscured the furious sea.
My ears rang, echoing with my father’s voice. Or was it the cries of the crew? Or Gwen’s own grief? Or the distant screams that rang from the town? I did not know, I did not care. This wasn’t right, it wasn’t happening. He had to surface, and soon—he couldn’t hold his breath much longer. Where were they? Where were they?
I rolled to my side and curled like a nautilus. The cold had numbed me, but not enough. Beside me, Crowhurst’s broken chain, and the copper flask; it was like a chip of ice in my palm. Starlight glittered on its surface. How much of the Lethe water remained?
A scream brought me back to my senses as the ship loomed out of the mist. The storm was too high, the wall was too close, and with a sound like snapping bones, the Temptation drove into the wall.
The rising waves ground her ribs against the rocks. Rotgut had left the sails, using a pole to try to fend off the stones, and Bee was frantically signaling the Fool, but there were not enough hands, not with Slate gone, not with Kashmir . . . Kashmir—
In a flash I was on my feet; spinning, I nearly ran into Blake. He grabbed my arms, steadying me—or perhaps himself. “Miss Song!” He squinted at me; his eye was swollen where Crowhurst had hit him. “We must get to the ship.”
I stared at him—in his face there was such sorrow, and I rejected it. “No!” Something snapped in me. “Let go of me! Let go!” I shoved him; he staggered back, slipping on the ice on the wall.
“Where are you going, then?” Blake said.
“To save Kashmir!” Out on the water, Rotgut called to me—there was desperation in his voice. But Gwen would help them, wouldn’t she? I started toward the stairs.
“Nix!” Blake grabbed my wrist and spun me around. “He’s gone!” I followed his stare to the city, the water swirling around the slate roofs of the houses. “He was locked in the pit. He had no picks. The water is ice cold, and you would drown in it too. He’s gone, Miss Song.”
With a roar, I flung him away and sprinted toward the stairs, but I didn’t get far. Blake tackled me to the stones, wrapping me up in his arms and crushing the breath out of my lungs. Kicking, I tried to regain my footing, but he swung me over his shoulder.
“No!” I pounded on his back. “I won’t lose him too!”
But Blake did not listen, or if he did, he did not stop, not until we reached the ship. He tossed me to the deck and leaped aboard after me. I landed in a heap.