Chapter 3

“Batten down the hatches!”

Cap’s order sledges the air, sending men tripping over their own feet in a rush to busy themselves. He catches Zane by the arm and marches him down the stairs, leaving only Vanth and the first mate at the helm, nose to nose, spitting words at each other.

Vanth rips away, stalks toward the back corner, and unlatches the scope on the huge, metal harpoon mounted on the deck.

My stomach knots, attention veering to the creature gliding through our wake. I mutter a curse and clamber down the ladder, skipping the last few rungs and landing in a crouch. Bare feet slapping against the deck, I run to the stairs, verging on the helm seconds after a shirtless, mussed-up Kavan, who looks like he just fell out of bed, snatched two spears, and charged onto the deck without his shoes.

“Did you see that thing, Vanth? It’s fucking huge!” There’s genuine fear in Kavan’s rushed, high pitched words. “It’s coming right for us—”

“Don’t worry,” Vanth says through a tight jaw, still locked in a stare-off with the first mate as he takes a spear. “I’m dealing with it.”

“You’re outta line,” the first mate growls. “The captain has given no such orders.”

I crouch into the shadow of a large water barrel—out of sight, but close enough to hear.

Observe.

“And by the time he does, it’ll be too late,” Vanth growls, fist crushing the edge of a nearby tarpaulin as his chest inflates. “You’re forgetting that I’m charged with protecting the High Master’s promised. I have direct orders to do whatever’s necessary to keep her safe.”

He snaps his arm down, ripping off the tarp in a ruffle of heavy leather, unveiling a pronged rack loaded with six claw-tipped metal bolts taller than me. Thicker than my arm.

My blood runs cold.

I look to the approaching creature again—closer now as it breaks the surface in a slither of frills and scales that reflect the sun. It frolics through our whitewash, stitching the sea in big, loping curls. Like it’s … it’s playing.

My pulse pitches, the boisterous stomping and yelling and bustling about the ship’s upper deck fading into oblivion …

I’ve seen the vicious charge of impending death.

It looks nothing like this.

Stomach swirling with a thick oil of unease, I barge from the shadow and move past the first mate, planting myself in the middle of it all.

Three pairs of wide eyes whip in my direction.

“I—I agree with the first mate.” My fractured voice echoes through the sudden void of silence, and I’ve never felt so loud.

So bare and small and silly.

I clear my throat and shove my shoulders back.

“It’s not showing signs of aggression, but curiosity. I’m guessing it’ll veer off once it’s had a sniff around.”

Vanth throws me a dirty look, setting his spear aside and dragging a bolt from the rack with a sharp scrape that pumps my skull full of pressure.Teeth clenched, he heaves it up, slides it down the hatch, and cranks it into place, cheeks reddening from the strain. “And what do you know about the outside world, Mistress?”

His righteous tone lacks the force to overshadow the desperateboom in my chest, my frantic gaze nipping at the creature dancing toward a brutal, bloody end.

“Not a lot,” I admit, trying to keep my voice steady. “But I do have experience with deadly, inquisitive creatures. It’s acting much the same as the sharks, probably lured by the offal we’ve been dumping overboard. If it wanted to attack, it would’ve hit from beneath before we caught a sniff of danger.”

There’s a digestive pause, feeding my courage with scraps of hope.

I step closer, a flutter in my chest as I offer a small smile. A silent plea to bury our differences. “Please, Vanth. Nobody needs to die today ...”

He looks me up and down, gives me his back, then rotates the weapon until it’s pointing toward the creature.

My stomach flips. Smile falls.

He peers down the scope. “If the High Master thought you were capable of guarding your own wellbeing, he wouldn’t have assigned you babysitters,” Vanth bites out. “Take her below deck.”

A big hand grips my shoulder.

I whip my head around to a blur of sun-kissed brawn and scuffing boots as the Captain wrestles Kavan into an armlock so deep I’m surprised his shoulder is still notched in its socket.

His discarded spear clatters across the deck.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, boy?” Captain lowers Kavan to the deck with such commanding poise, my own knees threaten to buckle. “That’s our future High Mistress you were about to manhandle like an animal.”

Lumped on the ground in a wheezing, red-faced knot, Kavan suddenly looks so feeble.

“Captain,” Vanth bites out, and I spin, stare flying to his finger curled around the trigger of the brutal weapon he’s wielding. I look at his target—a lengthy ruffle of corrugated silver, its movements fast and fluttery and so much closer now.

Happy.

Like it’s stealing the space between us one treasured inch at a time.

My heart batters my ribs.

“Vanth,” Captain grinds out, Kavan still pinned beneath his might, hissing spittle onto his polished black boot, “I see you’re perfectly capable of arming a harpoon. Well done. I hope you’re not planning to shoot anything with it.”

An easy out Vanth should absolutely tighten his fists around.

He clears his throat, tone defensive when he says, “Madame Strings tells stories about serpentine beasts launching from the water in rabid fits of rage, shredding vessels into splinters. I’m sure you’ve heard the same stor—”

Captain chuffs out a sound of disgust, strain etched around the edges of his pale blue eyes. “I don’t trust the slimy words of that agitator, even if she does claim to know everything. You shouldn’t either.”

A deep red creeps up Vanth’s neck and across his cheeks. His grip on the trigger tightens, blanching the tip of his finger and halting my heart.

My foot slides forward an inch.

Don’t do it. Please.

“Well, I count at least ten of your men down there who were raised around her fire, feeding on her legends—”

“You shoot that thing,” Captain growls with merciless candor, “and all you’re going to achieve is to anger it, earn yourself ten lashes, and a court-martial once we dock. Finger off the trigger, before I snap it off your fuckinghand and throw it to the gulls.”

Vanth’s eyes glaze with resolution, and he looks to the creature, strangles the trigger—

I leap, slamming into him as the boom of the discharged weapon knifes my gut.

The bolt plunges toward the snaking shadow at lightning speed, striking the water with a sickening whump. A serrated moan rips from the ocean, a swirling symphony of pain that rips my heart in two.

Hands fisting Vanth’s shirt, I release a sob as the creature writhes into a knot of soft and sharp frills. As it bulges above the surface like a glittering mountain birthed from the sea, spewing a river of red from the fleshy wound staked by that brutal bolt—straight through a fold of fins.

Silence sweeps across the ship as its tortured cries squeal through the still and ripple across the ocean, battering my skin like a tangible thing. Like the ocean’s crying—its tears a pattering attack I can’t wipe away.

I look at all that blood-tarnished beauty and fail to blink away the needling sting in my eyes.

The creature unspools in slow, spineless increments, slithering below the surface …

Gone.

All that’s left is a blossom of blood bigger than the ship; a temporary gravestone that fades a little with each of my hammering heartbeats.

“You monster,” I rasp through the fire in my throat and whirl on Vanth, looking past a sheen of tears into merciless eyes. “What have you done?”