Best not to think about it and instead concentrate on what she could do: get out, with as many as wanted to come. Let the fighters fight.
The first musician to return was a woman with pink hair and even pinker skin. She wore a billowy cloak and carried two bags over her shoulder. An array of flutes and pipes was strapped to her belt.
She was followed by an elderly man with silver tattoos on his bald head. He carried only a lute, his arms wrapped tight around it.
A third came, carrying a drum.
Marin almost laughed. She would have, if it hadn’t all been so awful and dire. She should have expected that musicians wouldn’t be gathering up clothes or food or survival essentials. Of course they’d gone for their instruments.
She nearly protested when two more came down the stairs, hauling the mayharp that she’d brought here for Dax, but she didn’t. She let them carry it onto her boat and down into the hold. She heard their surprise as they saw how much bigger it was on the inside.
More came, thanking her and offering their names. She didn’t listen. She wasn’t intending for them to be on her boat long enough for who they were to matter.
Come on, Dax. Move.
At eight minutes and ten seconds, Dax appeared. He had multiple bags over his shoulder. She could see that one was bursting with papers and scrolls. In his arms was what looked like a lute, except it had three necks and three sets of strings.
“Get on,” Marin said. “We’re going now.”
“How many…”
“Fourteen.”Oh, yay.The original half dozen must have found friends. She didn’t care. They were on board, and Dax was here.
He began to pivot back toward the stairs. “Do you know if Shiare—”
Shooting out of the water, Perri slapped into Dax with his fin, knocking him onto the deck. Marin untied the lines from the dock and shoved off.
Ree hopped next to Dax. “Hi. I’m Ree. I’m on her crew.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Ree,” Dax said. He struggled to his feet, still cradling his lute and bags. “I need to see if my friend made it…”
From belowdecks, a woman called, “I’m here, Dax! We’re all here!”
“Come this way,” Ree said to Dax, leading him toward the steps to the cabin.
Marin called to her little sailor. “Ree, tell them all to sit down or hold on—it’s going to be a fast ride. And then get back up here. I need you on map duty.”
“Aye, Captain,” Ree said.
“Marin…” Dax began.
“Belowdecks,” she ordered.
Once all the musicians and their paraphernalia were stowed safely within the cabin and Ree had returned, Marin said to Perri, “How fast can you swim us out of here?”
He trilled a series of notes in rapid sequence.
Very fast.She liked that answer. “Ree, can you hold on tight toboth the boat and the map? If not, I’ll need you to go below with the others. I don’t want to lose you.”
He responded by weaving his branches tight around the base of the mast. He poked holes in the map with other branches so that it was stuck to him.
Marin lashed herself to the helm with a stretch of line. She kept her hands free to control the wheel. Then she said to Perri, “Go.”
He used the tunnel the way a bird used a stretch of water—as a runway for gathering up speed. By the time they reached the mouth of the tunnel, he was going peak speed. He pivoted fast, whipping the boat to the side, to take the first turn.
Ree screeched, “Left!”
Perri turned left.
