7 INTO THE DEEP

ASTRID FROWNED WHEN she spied the storm clouds looming to the west.

They'd set off from Sanna with the first blush of dawn, with a brisk wind filling the birlinn's sail. Once again, Astrid had been grateful for her thick cloak, for the wind, which gusted in from the west, had teeth.

But those clouds on the horizon had an ominous look, and as they boiled closer, they seemed to grow darker, almost purple, in hue.

Still frowning, Astrid twisted on her seat, her gaze shifting to where Finn gripped the steering oar. "There's a storm coming," she informed him. "We should find a safe haven."

His mouth twisted, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Already noted," he replied, raising his voice to be heard as a particularly vicious gust barreled into them. "I'm already steering us toward the Isle of Rùm."

Astrid cut her attention east, hoping to see the shadow of land on the horizon, yet they were still surrounded by water. Misgiving feathered through her then. They were in the midst of the sea now, having sailed past the Isle of Muck, the first of the Small Isles, around an hour earlier. She didn't like not being able to see land, especially with those threatening clouds racing toward them.

A loss of control, a sense of vulnerability, quickened her breathing and chilled her limbs.

Likewise, the faces of the men surrounding her were grim. The sky had been clear when they'd set off, yet the weather had taken a turn. The seas off the west coast of Scotland could be perilous, all sailors knew that, but May was usually a safe enough month to travel between the isles.

Astrid's belly clenched as she turned her focus back to Finn. "Will we make it in time? "

His lean face tensed. "I thought we would," he muttered. "But judging from how fast those clouds are moving, I think the storm will hit us before we reach Rùm."

Astrid tightened her hold on the plank where she was sitting. Murmuring an oath, she looked west, wishing a glare would send those clouds scurrying away. But of course, that was a foolish hope.

Moments later, the sea around them grew choppy and whitecaps appeared. The birlinn, which was at full sail now, angled through the waves, helped by the oarsmen who propelled it forward. The Sea Eagle was flying, yet it wasn't fleet enough to outrun the coming storm.

It wasn't long afterward that a shadow fell across the sea, angry purple and slate clouds closed in, and the storm hit them like a mailed fist.

Astrid thought she knew what fear was—but as the storm howled around them, she tasted true terror.

Clinging with one hand to the side of the galley, the other to her seat, she bit down on her tongue to stop herself from screaming—so hard that she tasted the iron tang of blood.

Finn hadn't changed course. They were still heading for the Isle of Rùm. But with the storm on all sides now, it was impossible to see more than a few yards in any direction.

The waves grew to the size of hills, dwarfing the twelve-oar birlinn as it climbed a dark, glossy slope. The galley perched on the brow of that watery promontory, teetering there in midair for a few heartbeats, before it plunged down into the valley below.

The motion was so swift that it left Astrid's belly behind her. She couldn't help it. A scream tore from her throat. However, the roar of the wind and sea drowned out the noise.

The faces of her escort, pinched and pale, betrayed their own fear; yet they still tried to row their way through the storm. It was useless though, for the tempest had them in its claws.

Up and down they went—and they were barreling down a particularly steep trough when one of the oarsmen toppled over the side into the churning water.

Astrid screamed again, horror washing over her as Norris's dark head went under the water.

Next to her, Finn spat out a curse and lurched forward. He then leaned over the side, with Roy grabbing his legs, and tried to catch hold of the man overboard. But the sea had sucked Norris under, and as the birlinn climbed the next hill, they didn't see him again.

Astrid twisted around, a sob clutching at her breast as she fixed on the spot where Norris had disappeared. She couldn't believe the sea had taken him. Panicked shouts from the other crew members rose and fell around her.

Tears scalded Astrid's chilled, wind-chapped face while they climbed to the summit of another great wave.

Norris was her age. They'd grown up together in the keep. He was the son of one of the grooms, a big-hearted lad everyone liked. And now he was gone.

Panic assailed her then, fear swirling in a wild vortex inside her chest. Her heart was beating so hard now she feared it might stop, and crippling despair—a sensation that reminded her of how she'd felt after her failed escape months earlier—barreled into her.

They were all done for. There was no way out of this.

The Sea Eagle dove once more, heading toward another terrifying trough—and this time, an ominous ‘crack' clove through the howling wind and roar of water.

The mast had just snapped in two, and as it fell, the heavy sail billowed and the rigging creaked and pinged as it gave way.

Three of the oarsmen tried, foolishly, to save the mast. They launched themselves toward it, grabbing hold of the tough woven wool. But it merely yanked them off the galley and into the churning water.

The sight of the men struggling in the sea pulled Astrid out of the claws of despair. Without thinking, she lunged forward to help them. However, a strong arm looped around her belly and hauled her back.

"Stay seated," Finn growled in her ear, "or it'll be ye who goes over next."

Astrid rounded on him, driving her elbow into his belly as she fought to get free. "Let me go, knave! We have to help them!"

"Aye," he grunted. "We will … but ye will sit down and hold tight. That's an order."

Heart pounding, she relented. Finn released her then, moving past her as he tossed a coil of rope out to the flailing warriors .

One of them, Colin, caught it, and was just about to haul himself back toward the galley, when the sail billowed down over the top of him.

Finn swore viciously as he, along with Dougie, tried to yank the sail away so they could get to the men in the water.

Dougie was shouting their names, his voice raw with fear.

The same fear that pulsed like a stoked ember inside Astrid now, fusing her to the spot. She'd had a moment of foolish bravery earlier, when she'd moved to help Colin and the others, but now terror seized her once more.

Her limbs felt cold and dead. She couldn't move.

A wave crashed over the boat then, sending an avalanche of freezing water over them. The impact of it hitting Astrid was like striking a wall.

She'd been clinging onto the side, but her grip wasn't strong enough to withstand the impact. The wave knocked her over the side, and then she was being pulled underwater.

Panic kicked her in the chest, and suddenly her limbs worked again. She clawed her way upward, breaking the surface and heaving in a deep breath.

The boat was just yards away, yet to her horror, it was breaking up, and sinking into the whirling, churning maelstrom in the base of the trough. On either side, dark, gleaming walls of water rose up overhead.

They were trapped in a watery abyss with no way out.

Finn appeared over the edge of the birlinn then, grappling with the side as he looked wildly around.

"Finn!" she screamed, panic pulsing inside her.

Hearing his name, he looked her way, and their gazes fused for an instant.

And then another wave swept over them, blinding Astrid and dragging her under.

Clawing her way to the surface once more, she found herself alone. Where was the Sea Eagle ? Where was the rest of her party?

"Finn!" she screamed, desperately trying to keep afloat as the water tried to suck her down. She'd learned to swim as a bairn, but it was difficult to fight this churning sea.

"Over here!" A voice rasped from behind her.

Astrid turned to see Finn clinging to a large plank of wood. His hair was plastered against his skull, his eyes were wide, and his face was taut. He then kicked, pushing himself and the plank toward her. "Grab ahold."

With a sob of relief, she lurched toward him, grabbing onto the flotsam, just as another wave hit them.

The piece of the birlinn's hull kept them afloat in the churning water. When they were able to see once more, Astrid looked wildly around her, blinking salt water out of her stinging eyes. "Where are the others?"

"Nearby … we just can't see them."

"But we—"

Waves swept over them once more, and Astrid choked on a mouthful of briny water. Wheezing and spluttering, she clung to the plank, misery twisting inside her.

The storm had destroyed the Sea Eagle . The crew were all in the water. How many of them had already drowned?

A sob caught in her throat, yet she choked it back.

No, she couldn't let hysteria take over. She wanted to find the others, to help them, but the truth was that she too was in grave danger right now.

"Just keep ahold of the plank," Finn ordered. His face was slick with water, his features even sharper than usual as his gaze fused with hers. "It's the only thing that'll save ye."

Astrid clenched her jaw tight and nodded. She wasn't in the habit of doing anything this man told her. But right now, as the storm howled its fury, and they bobbed like two corks on the wild sea, her enemy was the only thing between her and a watery death.