Page 55 of Tempest

“Do you think they saw us?” Cat whispered, doing her best against the current.

Daylight slanted through a crack in the hull, striking a line across Fell’s bleeding face. He was a good swimmer—or at least didn’t seem to struggle as much as Cat.

“You may hold on to me if you must,” he said, extending an arm. “Don’t let your pride drown you.”

“My pride sank with the Venerable,” she said, grasping at him. “What of your pride, Lieutenant?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“We face certain death out here. Sharks, storms, dying of thirst as we drift.” She fought to speak and tread water at the same time. “Surrendering to pirates might be the best option to survive.”

Fell sneered. “You first, Lady Rose.”

Her cheeks burned, her bluff called.

“Very well,” she shot back, taking a deep breath to fill her lungs.

Only for Fell to grab her by the shoulder, preventing her from swimming away.

“We are on a well-traveled sea lane,” he said, too close to her face. At such a distance, in the slanting light, Cat could see his eyes were not entirely silver but flecked with tiny chips of icy blue. “There will be a navy or merchant ship along in a day, or maybe hours. This smoke will not be difficult to spot.”

Her shift tangled around her kicking feet. She gritted her teeth, feeling like she might drown at any moment. “And if we drift off the lane, out to the ocean?”

Fell’s resolve wavered. “It will not come to that.”

“It might,” Cat muttered. “You know it might.”

His face tightened, a muscle feathering in his jaw. It was answer enough. The last thing either Catrine Rose or Jasper Fell wanted was to die at sea.

In this, at least, we are aligned.

“On the crossing from the Empire, our ship was waylaid by pirates. We were able to pay them off. Certainly, we can do it again.” Cat remembered the Credence too well, and what hard, fast lessons she had learned upon its deck. “To pay is to live. To fight is to die.”

They were not her own words but the words of a pirate.

Good advice, no matter the source.

Fell did not seem convinced. But before he could reply, darkness fell over the longboat, blotting out the light from the crack in the hull. Cat shivered beneath her shift, holding tight to Fell’s arm. Both ducked low against the water line, as if the waves might somehow hide them.

Splashes echoed outside, amongst the wreckage. Oars, Cat knew, hearing the hollow thwack of wood on wood as the pirate ship navigated the ruin of the Venerable. She imagined them bumping up against crates and barrels, long oars gently pushing aside debris and corpses. Then something heavier crashed into the water. Many somethings.

The pirates were diving into the destroyed warship.

“Lash those together!” A man shouted, barking orders. His voice sounded like grinding stones, destroyed by long years at the pipe.

“Aye, sir,” a few others answered.

The rough voice growled. “We may yet make something of this mess.”

Beneath the overturned hull, Cat felt sick. She bent her legs, one hand clawed to the wood, trying to find something to hold on to so she might lift herself higher out of the water. Fell’s hand on her shoulder froze her solid, his grip like a vise. His eyes widened, furious and cold, his message clear.

Stop moving.

Another splash echoed, bigger and closer than the others. Cat felt the force of it hit their hiding place, rocking the wreckage over them. She winced, squeezing her eyes shut.

A longboat, she thought. How many pirates it held, she could not say. But more than enough.

The voices glided around Cat and Fell, circling them.