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’splaying.
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 looksnothinglike 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, butcuriosity. 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 frombeneathbefore 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 ananimal.”
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 easyoutVanth 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—”
