And now, I have someone to think about when facing death. And it comforts me.
S O R E N
Inarrow my eyes when it seems like there’s something bright in the distance, and it’s not the prow of the ship. It’s hard to make sense of it when the waves continue to roll into view.
Someone comes down the ladder to the mess hall—a straight shot from up top—their legs flying in the air when we dip down before he’s able to anchor himself on the bars. “Blackwell’s ship is on fire!” he shouts.
As soon as we’re able, we all stand, holding on as Tempest descends down the ladder after him. She’s completely soaked, dripping all over the floors. “We’re still boarding his ship!” she declares, holding onto the ladder as she looks around the space. “We’re almost on him. If you fall into trouble, jump into the ocean. The sirens can feel human energy and will know immediately where you are.
“Liam Rackham will fire cannons just before we collide, and he will provide the escape ship as we ram Sea Wolf into Darkwater. Antony Blackwell ismine, and I’ll kill the man that robs me of my vengeance. Do you all understand?”
“AYE!”
She walks over to us, leaning sideways as the ship dips more, although she doesn’t need to hold onto anything. “Doyouall agree?”
“I’m here for Jane,” I state.
“I as well, and Jesper,” Ritter replies.
Tempest nods, then looks at Bones. “I’m here for Anya.”
“I’m literally here for the fun of it,” Basilisk adds as she looks at him.
She doesn’t seem amused. “Affiliation? Aside from the witch?”
“Death’s Wing.”
Even if the two rarely interacted, it’s true that we rise to the call of each other when in need. And right now, Anya is in need of vengeance. Tempest tilts her head to the side, as if she accepts it. “Follow the crew when it’s time to board. Get yourselves ready.”
She climbs back up the ladder as the crew hoots and hollers. Heat sears my blood while I examine every possible outcome in my mind. Closing my eyes, I focus on the waves of energy around me. Everyone vibrates with eagerness, and I’m even able to sense out the utter chaos of Darkwater in the distance.
I swear Misery’s energy is missing, always a source of something putrid. It’s as if he’s either shut me off, or he’s notthere.
Cannons fire—my eyes shoot wide open at the sound of them consecutively firing off, only having heard that once before.
There’s a disturbance in my heart that overshadows the battle cries, my mask calling to me that something is wrong with Jane. Her life is in danger. I can sense out her fading heartbeat, like a precarious warning to what needs to be saved.
I engulf myself in the calm that is second nature to me, one that is purely guided byyearsof training in warfare. I don’t question anything else, knowing I need to be surgical in my approach so I may reach her. Get her in the waters. I can’t do shit for her when it comes to healing, but the sirens might.
That’s my duty.
Iwillfind her.
And the fucking world better hope she’s alive.
I take over the directing of everyone to go above deck, looking at each man’s face before they ascend the stairs while Tempest’s crew climbs the ladder, keeping it quick and uniform, before I move up myself. Once up top, I don’t even fully feel the rain that pelts against me.
Not when every step, every breath, is now fueled with a deep purpose. Every time my heart beats, I worry about Jane’s.We’re moving too slow.My eyes widen in shock when I realize what I saw belowdeck, only to blink as rain pelts in. The entire center of Darkwater is on fire, caved in right at the middle. The flames lick the air with a signature, as if imbued with the energy of the person who ignited them. Without thinking, I shout, “Jane set the fire!”
Ritter gives me his full attention as he stands to my right. “What?”
“I can feel it. Her energy, her anger, it’s all over the flames.” I peer around for Basilisk until I find him in the crowd, taking two steps toward him. “Do you feel Misery?”
“No!” Concern is etched in those golden eyes, furrowed brows hanging heavily over them. “I think we can risk boarding. I don’t know what happened to him!”
We all reach for something to stabilize ourselves, the black expanse of the rolling ocean like the surface to another dimension. We’re nearing Darkwater as if the winds have stopped brushing against Blackwell’s ship, as if theyfuelTempest’s more than before. I can even see Blackwell at the wheel, glancing at us before he leaves his post.
“HANG TIGHT!” ripples through Sea Wolf from Tempest’s crew, and I glance over to the other side to see Storm’s Fury is close enough to visualize the dots along his hull for the cannons.
