Page 42 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

Lanterns rattle. Plates jump.

I yelp along with the other sailors. Silas, Darius, and I exchange startled glances. It was sunny minutes ago. Could a storm have arrived so quickly?

Another boom rips through the air, followed swiftly by the loud shouts of the crew on deck.

The sailors at the end of the table jump to their feet and race out of the mess hall.

“What in—” I start, but the ship lurches violently, throwing me sideways.

Silas and Darius keep their seats, but I slip off the bench and land hard on my side.

“PELAGOR!” someone roars from above. “Pelagor attacking the starboard side!”

Silas is already on his feet.

Darius’s easy grin vanishes, replaced by cold focus.

“Stay here!” he orders, all traces of charm gone.

I push myself upright and grip the edge of the table. “Wait⁠—”

They vanish in a blur of shadow.

The ship tilts sharply. Screams echo from above.

I ignore Darius’s order and scramble to my feet, heart pounding.

The narrow stairs pitch under my boots as I stumble up toward daylight. My palms slam against the walls to keep from falling. I practically throw myself through the door leading to the deck.

And freeze.

The world has gone black.

Clouds churn low over the sea, thunder cracking so close it shakes the masts. Lightning spears the sky in blinding forks. Sailors race across the deck, shouting orders, weapons flashing—swords, rifles, harpoons.

I don’t see the Fae.

Then—

A loud, shrill cry reverberates through the air, punching against my eardrums with such force that I can’t help but fall to my knees and clutch my hands over my ears.

My eyes water.

I look up.

The magic in my veins flares hot with warning as a slick, coiling tentacle, thick as a tree trunk, rises from the churning sea. The stench of brine and rot fills my nose.

Before I can blink, another tentacle flies over the railing and snakes around my waist.

And yanks me off my feet.

9

My head slams against the deck with a sickening crack. Stars burst behind my eyes. For a heartbeat, I feel nothing. Then pain floods in, raw and blinding, as I’m dragged across the boards toward the ship’s railing.

Rough planks scrape my legs. Splinters bite through my skirt. The roar of the storm drowns out my cries. I twist, throwing my weight to the side, trying to wrench free, but the tentacle’s muscles ripple with horrible strength.

My fingers claw at the slippery, rubbery flesh with no success. The sea monster hauls me closer to the ship’s edge. A torrent of rain crashes down from the sky, making everything slick and that much more difficult to escape.