I won’t be offeringthemany dogwarth tea if they end up with crippling flatulence or a blood infection.
He flicks me a glance, violet flecks bursting from the pupils of his powder blue eyes. “I tune them out. They’re easy to steal from when their tongues are flapping.”
“Makes perfect sense to me.”
There’s a thundering sound from above, and I look up to see Gage descending the ladder at a rapid pace. He leaps off it from ten rungs up, lands heavily beside us, then sprints up the stairs on a beeline for the helm.
Movement stills, a hush falling over the ship as men seem to watch and listen. Some even file up the same stairs toward the back of the ship to catch their own glimpse of whatever it was that ripped Gage from his perch.
“Weird,” Zane mutters, standing. “I’ll go check it out.”
He trots off in a flutter of velvet.
I shove to a stand, reaching onto my tippy toes in an effort to see through the congregating crewmen, then stab my stare up the aftermast. I climb a few rungs, pausing to peer past the stern over a gathering of loose hair and tawny, low-hanging buns.
The sharks are gone. Even the gulls have scattered.
A ripple in the water draws my eye almost ten ship-lengths beyond us, and a shock of silver scales disrupts the surface before drifting out of sight.
The men mutter … point …shout.The Captain bellows something that cleaves a path for him to charge through—spyglass in hand.
Frowning, I continue to climb, settling high enough that I have a decent vantage point to cast my gaze back upon the water.
My heart lurches.
There’s a long, slithering shadow double the length of the ship that’s weaving just below the surface.
Closer than it was a few moments ago.
A massive, gossamer dorsal fin volleys out of the water, leaving a trail of misty spindrift.
A lump lands in my belly, thrashing like a creature swallowed alive …
Something’s following us.
“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 thatI’mcharged 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.
