A few men from each longboat grab the ropes and immediately fix them to iron hooks, shouting up that we’re ready. Our boat gives a jerk as we’re slowly taken out of the water, rising alongside a painted hull.
Once pulled up from the side, quite a few small ladders wait for us that are only a handful of rungs. “Go on, Jane,” Tempest urges, motioning to one as she climbs another. It freaks me out a little to think my grip can slip, and I’d plummet below.
I haven’t really gone swimming a whole lot in my life... Soren’s presence behind me quickly eases my worries.
Climbing is swift, and when I crest over the side, all I can think is that the entire sun-kissed deck ismassive. I have to look firmly left or right just to see the entirety of it. The sails are gigantic, black strips of fabric. There’s so much rope, and they’re all sothick.
My feet thud on hollow-sounding floors as I gain my footing. Everyone is dressed differently than on land—breeches, looser, billowing tunics, nearly all wearing bandanas, and most are in shoes rather than boots, belts strewn about their bodies to affix many things to. Plain wool jackets are adorned by over half. Tempest is already speaking to a man, her own coat sharply contrasting the rest in how detailed and clean it is. “Misery was spotted in those caves. So was Blackwell. This ship is on war duty. Spread the word.”
“Aye, ma’am.”
Soren climbs over right behind me, and so do more of his men, and there’s an awkward separation of people before Tempest yells, “You greet these people as if they’re an extra body to help us fight Blackwell and thatmiasmathat follows him, because that’s exactly what they are. You’ll be thankful for them when the time comes. Keep your swords sheathed and mind your manners.” She then faces me with the sun behind her head. She flashes a grin, a few of her golden teeth shining. “Welcome aboard the Sea Wolf, Jane. Hope you have sea legs.”
S O R E N
Boarding the Sea Wolf allows my mind to finally accept what just happened; what we just escaped.
The gravity of abandoning my men’s dead bodies in the streets weighs deeply on me. Their death bought me the time to breathe in this air. It’s hard not to think about how they deserve better—a burial, burning their bodies,something.
It always feels wrong to know that the dead don’t get to see what they died for, even if every single one of us is aware our bodies might never be laid to rest.
Not with war.
“You can take off your mask,” Ritter says.
The two of us are standing at the ship’s helm, watching Skull’s Row harbor as it’s left behind us, and my gaze is wherever Mads and Silas are. The sound of waves crashing against the Sea Wolf fills our ears, mingling with the distant cries of seagulls that will soon be gone. Jane is secured down in Tempest’s quarters while the crew prepares for warfare, her energy felt securely below me.
“It enhances my powers, and I’m currently using them.” I glance at him, a briny breeze moving loose strands of hair into my eyes. “I haven’t seen you useyourmask.”
“It’s currently in use, as well. That purpose is not for you to know.”
My attention returns ahead, glad to have more ocean between us and Skull’s Row, even if the Spiraling Stone is still stationed high over us. Once the sun dips below the horizon, this place will be lost over the ocean’s surface line.
“So, is Jane safe in the captain’s quarters?” Ritter asks, more like confirming something rather than inquiring.
“About as safe as she was in that tunneled nest Cypress built… Something dark still haunts her.”
His sigh is heavy. “I can see it, too.”
Oh yeah, the eye shit. “So how the fuck doesthatwork?”
For a moment, he looks like he won’t tell me, but he seems to realize the value of being honest. “Your power,” he begins, choosing his words carefully, “as far as I’m aware, taps into the essence of the energies around us. You cansenseit. With mine, it’s essentially a broken version of yourself. A forced magic that we acquired over the Black Sea. With the Seeing Eye visible, Icanseeif energies align, but I can’t get more than that. When I look at Jane, traces of a putrid darkness surround her, one when I look at Blackwell, he’s saturated in it... ithasto be Misery.”
Hearing it from another somehow makes it worse, as if acknowledging how damning this is for Jane.
“Speaking of that,” I say, crossing my arms as the leather stretches. “You ever killed a god before?”
His laugh is short and sharp. “Not yet.” His humor fades, Ritter shifting his stance to straighten himself, then looks at me in my periphery. “I assume you’re aware that there’s no point in meddling your emotions with my daughter if all of our lives are on the line, and your focus is your sister.”
Oh, fucking great. He wants to talk aboutthis.
“It does go against logic.”
“And with your powers, I know enough to know that your magic tells you when not to associate with someone. And yet you continue to do the things you do.”
“I’m not spelling it out for you,” I snap, my voice grittier. “Nor am I going to sound it out, act it out, or fucking make any comment about it.”
His snicker contrasts the fierce side of his heart, the one that exists solely for Jane. “All I’m getting at is if your powers can tell you not to associate with someone, then I’m curious if they can tell youtoassociate with a person.”
