Page 54 of If I Go Down with This Ship

I finish my stew and chug down the ale, and when my stomach is full and I’m standing solidly, the harsh wind whipping my hair into my face, I can sigh in relief.It wasn’t easy, but I have acclimated to life at sea, to the sway of the ocean, the food, to ale all day, every day.

Laughing, I grip the railing, looking out over the water, the fear of it minuscule now.It’s unbelievable, but I love this place.Despite the whole nearly-being-killed bit and the fact that these pirates will do anything to protect themselves and this ship, I love it here, and nothing can change that.

“I hate it here!”I yell as I tug on the lines.

It’s been only a day since I’ve returned to my work, and the rain is coming down in a torrential downpour.We’re allsoaked to the bone, and I’m so numb I can’t feel my thighs or my ass.My hands, which had mostly healed in the days I’d fallen seasick, slip and slide along the rope, making it nearly impossible to hold.

They burn as the line slithers from my grip again, and several splinters from the rope have embedded themselves deep in my palms and fingers.I hiss and shake out my hands before scrambling for the line once more.

“Keep it straight!”Hux says.

“Couldn’t if I wanted to!”I yell back, cracking a smile.

Hux gives me an odd expression over his shoulder but says nothing.

I squint against the rain and see Mick across the ship.He is striding up and down the deck, helping crew members.Mick secures cannonballs as they roll from their places, and he ties the crew to their jacklines—short tethers along the ship to prevent us from slipping overboard—as the storm rages on, pausing to help tie off lines, even going so far as climbing up the ratlines to help secure the sails.He has fully embraced his role as the new first mate.

And Hux hauls on the lines beside me.He says nothing as the choppy sea tosses us about.He’s dressed in thinner clothes than me, rolled-up sleeves exposing his tanned arms and a series of tattoos, but he doesn’t complain once, lips clamped together and jaw set in determination.

I blink against the water, my lips parting as I take in the storm and the advancing waves.They’re worse, they’re so much worse than I could have imagined, and the crew takes turns emptying the contents of their stomachs into the roiling sea.No wonder I was seasick; even the strongest of constitutions can’t handle a storm of this caliber.

“Tie down!”Mick calls.“Make certain you are tethered and secure!”He checks everyone’s jacklines, tugging on them as he passes each crew member, preparing for the storm that is waging against us, and I wish I’d never stepped out of that cabin this morning.It feels like we’re sailing to our deaths, like the worst of it is yet to come.

Mick stops beside me, his expression warped with concern as he yanks on my jackline.“Are you all right?”His attention goes to my stomach and back to my face, brow pinched together.

“Yeah, I think so.”My stomach roils in protest, but I swallow and tighten my hold on the lines as Mick continues to check the others’ jacklines.

I widen my stance and plant my feet, preparing for the worst.

And then the world around us stills.There’s a phenomenon people talk about, the eye of the storm, when everything freezes, if only for a moment.I certainly never thought I’d see one.The rain quiets, and when I glance up to the sky, there is a single opening of blue above us.I hear the patter of the rain dripping down the mast, hear the creak of the ship as we drift.

But then the storm is back, harder and harsher than ever.Wind and water thrash against me, and I grit my teeth and wrap my hands in the lines as one wave and then another crashes against us.The ship teeters all the way to our left, and I stumble, certain we’ll capsize, but it rights itself with a creak of the wood beneath us and a flood of water over the deck.It feels like we’re on the precipice of ruin.

My muscles relax, my hands loosening just as a second wave hits me in the face, and then I’m falling as the ship careens to my right.I scramble for purchase, coughing and sputteringup seawater, but the deck is slick, and my hands and nails slip over everything as I fly through the air and sail past anyone who could help me.The jackline tied securely around my waist catches me as I slide over the edge of the main deck and into one of the cannons below.

I hiss as the rope yanks at my side and digs into my flesh.I tug at it frantically as I flail in midair, searching for the knot to undo it with trembling hands.My gaze goes to the door leading to Silas’s cabin, and I wish I’d taken him up on his offer; I should have stayed in bed today.

But soon there’s a tug on my rope as someone pulls me upward.Using the last of my strength, I grip the upper deck and drag myself up and over, trudging through the water and back to my spot at the foremast with a gasp.

“Are you all right?”Hux asks.

I nod and reach for the lines once more.

And that’s when I hear it.There’s a crack, a deep, billowing sound from somewhere nearby.It sends a shiver down my spine, and I don’t want to look, but I can feel myself turning toward it all the same.I blink away the water, clenching my jaw as I squint up at the foremast.

There are people up there, holding on to it for dear life just moments after they’ve tied down the sails.But halfway up the mast, the wood splinters.Another crack and I can see the vein-like lines traveling down to its base.

“What do we do?”I scream.

If Hux can hear me, he shows no sign.His lips part as he takes in the mast and the crew scrambling to free themselves, but he makes no move to do anything, to say anything.

“Don’t move!”Mick calls.

One of the people hanging on to the mast scurries towardthe deck.His foot slips partway down and he slams his head into the mast, falling back and swinging in the air, foot trapped in the rope of the foremast as another crack travels up the wood with terrifying speed.

“Help me!”someone else screams, but the mast creaks under the shifting weight.

“Don’t.Move!”Mick calls again as the others search frantically for a way down.Mick’s deep voice is assertive as he crosses toward Hux.There is anger in his features, hands fisting as he fights to control it.“Command your men,” he growls to Hux.“Or they’ll die.”