Page 87 of Cursebreaker

“Aster.”

“I know,” she says simply, and with a flick of her tail, she dives below the water again.

I breathe, try to focus. Elsie. Elsie’s here. She shouldn’t be here.

I whirl, trying to find her in the chaos. I spot her climbing the dark, rocky hill to the Tidesinger.

But I’m not the only one racing after her.

One of the pirates gives chase. He draws back, preparing to throw a dagger.

I open my mouth to scream at her, but before I can make a sound, the pirate’s hand drops, tumbling down the rocks behind him. He turns, watching it go, and when he lifts his eyes, I follow his line of sight to where Titus stands, a small iron ball in his grasp.

The pirate doesn’t move an inch before Titus throws out his hand and a thin wire wraps around his victim’s throat, slicing his head from his shoulders with a flick of his wrist.

No hesitation. No mercy. No remorse.

Titus smiles, but there’s something about his eyes—heavy-lidded, glazed with bloodlust—that sends a shiver down my spine.

Another pirate barrels toward him from behind, but he just rolls his shoulders. Looks at me. Winks. And when he turns, drawing his cutlass as he spins with lethal grace, I lose sight of him in the frenzy.

Rook and Diana fight together, their movements fluid, and nearby, surrounded by four pirates and the captain himself, Owen—

Owen laughs.

“Aster!” Lewis calls to me, and my head whips in the direction of where Elsie had been a moment before.

I’m at his side in moments.

“Is this an illusion?” Lewis asks me, his eyes wide. “I could have sworn—”

“It’s her,” I say, already moving toward the small gap in the hull where she must have slipped through.

Lewis lets out a long string of curses, crouching to follow me inside.

Whatever magic gives the exterior of the ship the appearance of having just washed ashore, it has no effect on the rotting interior.

“Careful,” I say.

“Elsie?” Lewis calls out, his composure slipping. “Elsie!”

“Up here!” she calls from somewhere above.

Relief washes over me. I step blindly in the dark, trying to find a way up by the thin streams of silver radiance filtering through the gaps in the ceiling, but Lewis grabs hold of my arm, guiding me through the shadows. We move as one; I trust Lewis as we duck under low-hanging beams and up a crumbling companionway.

We find Elsie in the dilapidated captain’s quarters, standing in front of a gilded trunk.

The air around the chest glows, glittering with gold dust.

“What were you thinking?” Lewis asks, already moving toward Elsie.

I grab her arm, pulling her away from the cloud of Manan. “You shouldn’t be here!”

She throws off my grip. “I wanted to help!”

“Help?” Lewis shakes his head. “You could have been killed! It’s not safe for you—”

“I can help!” she insists, her chin held high. “I found it!” She points at the chest. “I can hear it. It sings.”