Page 42

“Lerick’s gone!” Rorun shouts, and my eyes find him across the ship. “He was standing right behind me a second ago.”

“There’s something in the water!” This from little Roslyn up top. “I can’t make it out.”

When the water begins churning again, I realize what it must mean. It’s feeding. It releases air while eating, and the churning water is from its efforts to keep apace with us. But we can’t let this go on. Not when it just snatched another of the crew without a soul noticing.

“Weapons out!” I shout. “Gunwomen to your posts. Backs to the deck, everyone. Eyes on the water. Stay vigilant.”

Dimella takes up the call, repeating it belowdecks and waking the rest of the crew. I run to the ballista at the other end of the ship. It’s already loaded, harpoon slung in place. My muscles strain as I turn the weapon, angling it straight down into the water. The trajectory isn’t perfect, but if this beastie’s as big as I think it is, the harpoon will hit.

“Ready yourselves!” I shout.

I fire.

A larger rush of bubbles flies to the water’s surface. Something like a clicking sound erupts from the midnight depths below.

“Reload,” I order.

Visylla uses two hands to put another harpoon in place. She helps me at the crank to pull back the spring. I change angles, this time aiming for the other side of the bowsprit. I shoot.

This time the noise is unmistakable: a keening moan akin to a whale yet sharper. The sea is frothing madly beneath us, and something finally makes an appearance above the surface of the water.

It’s a tentacle of some sort, but not like that of an octopus. It’s smooth, not puckered with suction cups. It looks like a thick whip, except at the very end, which doesn’t come to a point. No, it’s large and rounded. And when the tentacle finishes rising out of the water, my eyes widen.

An unblinking eyeball stares at us all.

Enwen shrieks, but I’ve already got my pistol out. I take aim, sighting that bulbous eye at the end, and pull the trigger.

Blood and flesh rip apart. Another moan sounds below the ship, and I hear the splashing of water as the wounded tentacle retreats.

Not for long.

More of those whiplike appendages breach the surface. They surround the ship, each with a large, grapefruit-sized eye on the end. One of them still holds Lerick’s body, the tentacle wrapped around his neck. It releases him onto the deck of the ship with a horrible crunch. We stare at our fallen crewman, who is missing the lower half of his body.

There’s a moment of silence where I wait for Alosa’s orders; then I remember Alosa’s not here. This is my ship. And the crew looks to me.

“Open fire!” I yell, and gunshots erupt into the night. More eyes explode, bits raining down into the sea. But a lot of the shots miss, skimming the arms of the beastie or flying wide.

The boat shakes, the creature moving us from beneath the waves. I don’t hear the cracking of wood, so I hope that means we’re all right. I see Radita take off belowdecks to check. Then those whiplike arms lurch forward.

“Swords!” I shout, but it’s too late to be a warning.

Tentacles wrap around the crew, trying to drag them into the sea. One catches Visylla around the neck, and I hack downward with my rapier. Rapiers are usually for stabbing, but I keep the edges of mine nice and sharp. The beastie must not have bones in its limbs, because my sword goes straight through, severing the tentacle. Visylla shrieks as she unwraps the eyeball-tipped limb from her person.

Looking toward the stern, I see sailors being pulled toward the edges of the ship, nails scraping along the deck, trying to find purchase. Kearan drops the helm and lets his cutlass slide free, rushing for the nearest caught sailor. I’m doing the same from this end.

I manage swings with my sword as I run, freeing sailors left and right. I stomp on tentacles, stunning them for a time, allowing other members of the crew to step in. Soon the deck is covered with sticky black blood. Explosions sound from behind me, and I know it means Visylla has begun making use of her bombs.

When I reach the mainmast, Kearan is already there, covered in black streaks of beastie blood, a path of destruction behind him. We’ve met in the middle, each of us panting and filthy. There’s a moment of quiet where we both survey each other. And then, without even communicating, we turn back-to-back, preparing for the next wave.

It is utterly bizarre how attuned to him I feel in this moment, but I don’t question it. A fight is happening, and instinct drives us both.

Someone screams as they’re pulled into the sea, and I don’t see who it is in time. The deck is a mess, pirates running for cover, reloading weapons, tripping over severed limbs.

“Reload the ballista,” I call to Visylla as I slice at a slimy limb that tries to grab me by the neck. I’m faster than it is, and I sever the tentacle right below the eyeball. It bounces twice before rolling across the deck.

Once Visylla has another harpoon ready for me, I resume my position at the ballista. More arms sprout from the water, unblinking eyeballs trained on individual members of the crew. We crank back the mechanism as shots blast through the air and shouts fill my ears. I take aim and fire again.

The creature grunts, but its limbs don’t falter. We’re not doing enough damage.