Beside him, Kiela peered out. “Where? I don’t see—” She spotted it, a white craft being tossed like a ball from wave to wave. “Who would be out there in this?”
“Someone foolish,” he said.
“Or desperate.” She thought of how she and Caz had fled Alyssium. “Is it a fishing boat? Someone from Caltrey?” As she said it, she knew it wasn’t. The fisherfolk were all aware of the weather. Bryn had been shocked she hadn’t noticed the clouds—everyone else had known to haul in the boats, board up the windows, and seek shelter.
“Looks smaller. Sleeker. It’s not one of ours.”
Its sails were flapping uselessly against its mast. A wave reached up like an arm and wrapped itself around the hull, and the boat disappeared from view. Kiela gasped. Like that, it was gone. No, wait—it had surfaced again, but it was listing to the side.
Larran pushed away from the window and strode toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Kiela said, nearly a shout.
“They aren’t going to make it to shore. Whoever’s on that ship is going to drown.”
She jumped off the chair. “That doesn’t mean you should join them!”
“I can help.” He grabbed a coat and pulled it on.
“But—” The storm would swallow him! He couldn’t go! “How will you even reach them? The waves! The wind!” And the lightning and the rocks and—“You don’t even know if there’s anyone alive on that boat.”
“I can do this,” Larran said. “I’ve ridden a merhorse in a storm before.”
This was a terrible idea. She didn’t know what to say to make him see that.I can’t stop him.“Let me help. How can I help?”
“You’ve ridden a merhorse once and that was on a perfect day. Stay here.”
“And just wait? But what if—”
He pulled the door open, and the storm rushed in as if it had been waiting for an invitation. Everything in the house blew. Seashells clattered onto the floor. Lanterns rattled as they shook, and the nearest candle was snuffed out. “Watch for me. Listen for me. I’ll knock—don’t open the door until you hear me knock.”
And then he was gone.
She shut the door and rushed back to the chair by the window. Pressing her face against the glass, she strained to see—there he was, leaning into the wind at a deep tilt as he walked toward the stone jetty. “No, no, this is a terrible, terrible idea,” she murmured.
His arm was flung up to shield his face against the wind. Leaning forward until his entire body was tilted, he fought against the storm, taking step after step. Kiela squeezed her hands into fists. She could imagine how it felt—the rain and the wind pushing against him.Don’t fall,she thought.Please don’t fall.And:
Come back to me.
Three-quarters of the way out onto the rocks, he halted.What’s wrong?She wanted to rush out to him, but she knew that would be a mistake. If she went out there, he’d worry about her, not about himself, and it would make the situation twice as dangerous.
Kiela saw the sea shoot up before him, and she clutched the edge of the window, willing herself not to scream. But the wave didn’t fold over him and sweep him away. Instead, out of the foam burst a merhorse. She saw the mare silhouetted against the stormy sky, her head flung back, her mane flowing like a waterfall.
Larran leaped off the rocks.
The horse-fish twisted in the air, and he grabbed her mane, swinging himself onto her back. She thundered away from the jetty, toward the floundering ship, deeper into the maelstrom. The cloud serpent had been joined by two more, and they fought, snapping their jaws with every crack of thunder, twisting and writhing as they tore one another apart.
Rain smashed into the window, and Kiela flinched back.
When she pressed forward again, she couldn’t see him. “Larran!”
Her voice was instantly swallowed by a crack of thunder so loud that it shook the walls. She felt wetness on her cheeks. Not rain. Tears. She hadn’t noticed when she started crying, but at some point she had. She ignored the tears and searched the sea. Where was—
There.
Carrying Larran, the merhorse leapt out of the waves. They were halfway to the ship. Above, the sky twisted as if it were being strangled. It bled rain.
He reached the ship.
