Page 76 of His Noble Ruin

I coughed the seawater from my lungs. “Thanks,” I managed to get out between coughs.

We tugged the rope together, bringing the sailboat all the way out of the cave. I climbed aboard, hoping I could handle this thing without my father. The sea was so powerful, and I felt so small. Mist hung over the water and the faintest pink light shone through the vapor. We were almost too late.

When the sun came up, the Enforcers would find us.

I reached toward Graham and helped him clumsily climb over the edge of the boat.

He landed on the deck with a thud and lay there catching his breath before propping himself up and getting to his feet, almost falling back to the deck again when a wave lifted the bow.

The tide was against us, but the wind was at our backs. I released the sails. They caught the wind and hung on, carrying the boat westward. We repeatedly glanced back at Cambria, watching for a glimpse of the black and white uniforms that would prove we’d gone too slow.

Thoughts of my father weighed me down. When he discovered I had taken Graham on my own, he’d be furious and wild with worry, but I couldn’t imagine what steps he’d take next. Would he and Cael both go after us? Would he stop me?

“Can I help?” asked Graham.

“No,” I snapped, unable to control my tongue as the consequences of my actions sank in. I’d gotten us into a situation I couldn’t control and I just wanted to figure it out in peace.

Graham was quiet.

I should’ve apologized, but I was too stressed and exhausted to hang on to any virtues. A tiny bit of relief joined my fear when the green island with the scar of the city wall disappeared into the fog behind us.

The cloudy sky lit up gradually, like a fire burning behind a curtain. The sun flashed off something in the distance behind us and the angular shape of a sailboat appeared through the fog. My eyes shot to Graham, but he was looking the opposite direction. It was probably just a fisherman, I told myself, but my instincts told me we weren’t so lucky.

* * *

As we sailed,I showed Graham how to angle the sails to catch the wind so we would stay on course. He’d learned the basics from my father’s journal but putting it into practice was something else entirely.

The boat’s deck was narrow, with sleeping cabins on each end with doors just large enough to crawl through. The center was lower than the bow and stern, which were above the two cabins, and the deck had a hatch for storage. It held a few water barrels, dried seaweed and meat, fishing supplies, and navigation instruments.

“Where’s the bathroom?” asked Graham from his perch on the bow.

I gestured to the ocean. “It’s all yours.”

His face reddened. “This will be a bit of an adjustment.”

I smiled. “Are you wondering where the maids are, too?”

“No, I didn’t expect . . .” He laughed when he realized I was making fun of him. He flipped through the maps in the journal and rotated the compass. “I’ve never seen one of these. It’s incredible.”

“I know.” I loved the feel of the smooth, round brass compass. It signified adventure and freedom—like holding power in your hands.

He turned to a page with a map of Tramore, the farthest island to the west. “So, this is your home. Do you have a lot of family there?”

“Some. My father. My aunt and uncle. There are plenty of islanders there, but most aren’t relatives.”

“I wish we could go to all the islands.”

“That’s not an option,” I said. “Not if we want to stop the attack in time.”

As long as we were able to catch an occasional fish, we wouldn’t have to stop at any islands along the way. We had plenty of water and a decent amount of food. If we stayed on course, we’d get to Tramore in nine days. Right as the islanders set sail for Cambria.

Graham looked up at me. “I’ll do whatever it takes to avoid a war.”

“So will I.”

I reached for the backstay, securing the sail more tightly to the stern and angling it against the changing winds. On my order, Graham walked shakily across the deck and rotated the tiller, pointing us to the west.

“Help yourself to the food,” I said, gesturing to the storage hold, “but it won’t be what you’re used to.”

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