There’s so much pressure as we enter the water’s surface. I want to open my mouth and scream, or breathe, but then the pressure lightens and air graces my face once more. I open my mouth before my eyes. Water washes off of the deck as I breatheraggedly, somehow still pinned to this spot. Looking around, the swells of the ocean are like a giant beast coming to life, as if the ocean’s surface is the skin of a demon.
Never thought I’d be so happy to be this close to Misery or to him holding onto me, as I could have been wiped away if not for him. I don’t even register how soaked I am anymore, the braziers still bright and lit, keeping us warm. I pant as if I just ran through the entirety of Skull’s Row.
This miserable god needs me to regain a body, so he can actually be powerful again, right? Which means he’s a weak little shit now? I’ve never once seen him without his staff, so I bet heneedsit. Could I just grab it when he doesn’t see that coming? I flinch when I think of him feeling those thoughts, until Cypress’s image comes to me.
Him not feeling me is the sole purpose of this.
It’s as if I’m staring at a clear night sky and can finally see how the stars connect to form a constellation.
Cypressison my side. Because of her god, and becauseI’mthe one that could get closest to Misery without him killing me because he needs my skin.
Me choosing to take down Misery is essentially choosing to help Cypress’s god, but at least he’s not the one that plans to wear me like a jacket.
This is it.
This isthemoment for me. And this ugly asshole is so focused, I can almost feel the fear in him. Something about Tempest unnerves the shit out of him, and he’s focused on preventing that. I’d also be willing to bet he’s helping Darkwater burst through these waves without crashing, as I don’t know why else he’d be up here. It’s clear he needs the help of the mages, so maybe the fire gives him power?
Either way, he’svulnerable.
I think of the tattoo on my chest and what the depth of it means. It’s actually a unique design, what it might look like if it was actually for me.
Itismine.
Mine.
I’m surrounded by people with their own legends, and there’s no reason I can’t have my own. There’s no reason I’m worthless, and so far, my magic has been used in waysotherthan to heal.Maybe it will work here…As we’re about to crest over another swell and Misery lifts the staff, I throw everything I have at grabbing it.
I reach deep into every well of healing power and let it drain me as it bleeds from my hands, the blue glow matching the brightness of braziers that whip around underneath this masked sun.
A growl so demonic emits from the forgotten god, who thenshrieks, his staff cracking apart as blue light seems toemitfrom it, the obsidian rock at the top glowing blue.
The boat tips over a wave, and a wall of water once again collides into us all.
It happens so fast and slow at once, the way the water overtakes me, and I get lost in it. It’s freeing, almost, until my body slams into something hard. Instinct kicks in as I reach for anything, grabbing something metal and clinging to it for dear life.
When my knees are on a solid surface, and I feel my balance pivot to a center, I realize I’m not dead. As the water washes away, my hand immediately touches my calve that’s bleeding from a nasty wound.
“BLOODY FLAGS!” someone shouts at the wheel, and it’s not Blackwell. “The Sea Wolf has been spotted with bloody flags!”
A bell tolls.
Darting my gaze around, I can’t spot the braziers anymore. Seriously? Were they wiped out, too? It makes sense if Misery is what was keeping us all planted there.It’s going to work.I spot the door that could take me below deck, and so far, no one is coming for me.
It’s my life’s purpose now to set this thing aflame.
S O R E N
The three of us—Basilisk, myself, and Ritter—are guided up to the wheel while the rest go down below. Tempest glares out at the churning ocean with a fury that makes the hairs on my arms rise. Her rage feels elemental, as if she herself is part of the storm brewing around us.
“We’re welcome back?” I yell out over the howling winds, lowering my head to keep the rain from pelting into my eyes. Igrip the rail’s handles like my life depends on it—which, to be fair, it certainly fucking does.
Her face contorts with rage that carves deep lines in her face, her grip fastened to the pegs of the wheel. “He. Branded. My.DAUGHTER!” Her scream pierces the storm, a flash of lighting briefly illuminating us all.
It’s a shout that looks like madness, but the determination and primal hunt in her eyes, mixing with an aura that I’ve never felt so coherent, tells me exactly whysheis the pirate queen.
Blackwell is absolutelyfuckedif she gets a hand on him.
“HOLD!” Tempest shouts, the few men around her all kneeling down and gripping the rails. We all do their actions, and the shout to hold echoes through the ship. She glances at the three of us. “Get your feet tucked in!”
