I hit the black water with brain-rattling force, immediately sucked under by the undertow of the ship. I kicked wildly, spun around in the ocean currents, madly scrambling for something, anything to orient myself.
My head broke the surface, and I screamed for all my life. I wasn’t wearing a chem light. It was the witching hour. The ship was noisy and my screams were small.
Nobody knew I was out here. Nobody would ever know what had happened to me.
Above, and growing smaller, the small glow of the magic cradle flared, and then disappeared as Commander Gagnon turned and walked away from the stern of the ship.
My fear roared to life, morphing into such rage as I’d never felt. Jonah? Maybe if she’d read the Old Testament a bit closer, she would’ve remembered that Jonah survived. But no matter what, I wasn’t Jonah. I was Judith, and I was going to cut off that woman’s head with a damned ax, if I could find one. How dare she try to silence me? How dare that scumbag look me in the eye and threaten me?
I took several deep breaths. What did I have to fight right now? What would save me?
The answer came immediately: I had magic, and I wasn’t in the engine room tonight. I already knew how to turn it into explosive fuel in my body.
The small bit of magic I’d squirreled away inside me flooded into my legs, allowing me to swim as fast as Jordan up to the ship, unperturbed by the waves the ship threw up. I needed to get to the ladder on the side.
When I was beneath the ladder, I blasted the last of my magic into the water, giving me enough lift to grab the bottom rung with both hands.
Now the hard part. My magic had run out.
With a cry of effort, I hoisted myself up and grabbed the next rung. I lifted my legs and looped one on the ladder, allowing myself to finally rest a bit and catch my breath. If I climbed up about a million more feet, I could clamber over onto the fantail.
Arm, up. Legs, up. Again and again and again, with the waves crashing below me and my fake heart beating inside like war drums, I lifted myself up toward the railing. Though I was a ghost, I’d never felt more alive.
After ten excruciating minutes, I reached the railing and climbed over, falling down flat onto the stern’s deck and taking several deep breaths. Nobody was running over to see what wretched sea creature had climbed onto the ship—she obviously didn’t want the lookout team anywhere near the railing.
I stood on shaking legs, but my shoulders were thrown back, and I lifted my chin high.
Commander Gagnon had just made a big mistake.
15
I punched through the glass of the fire box and wrenched out the ax, sending shards of glass all over the deck. My cuts healed on their own. I didn’t even feel them.
The only thing I felt was the need for murder thrumming in my veins. And oh, I was going to murder Commander Gagnon. Her, and anyone foolish enough to try to stop me. I felt capable of anything, at that moment.
Another petty officer stopped in the passageway and balked. “What are you doing?”
I looked sidelong at him. “Go down into the engine room and tell Chief Bickley that he’s needed in the galley.”
“But—”
“Now!”
He ran off toward the stairs that led to the engine room. I gripped my ax and narrowed my eyes, feeling its solid weight in my hands. There were at least a dozen identical axes around the ship, and probably some knives somewhere. The quartermaster? Supply? Whatever. There were definitely guns in the armory, and plenty of magic running through the entire ship and its many systems. I could feed into it, if I really had to.
I stormed into the galley, where the late-night shift was eating dinner. All eyes turned to me: sopping wet, armed, and pissed off.
Stanholtzer stopped eating, his spoon halfway to his mouth. “Petty Officer? What’s going on? Why do you have an ax?”
I stood on a table, almost high from the fury inside me. “Commander Gagnon just tried to kill me!” My furious shout made everyone flinch. “And I’m very certain she killed Seaman Wayne tonight! Now,” I said, even louder, raising my ax, “Are we going to sit back and die as she kills us one by one, or are we going to do something?”
Stanholtzer bolted to his feet. “You mean a mutiny?”
I gulped. “Yes.” Worried whispers ran through the crowd, and I lifted my chin up again. “She’s been telling the captain that nobody on this ship can read nautical charts! Does anyone else thinks that’s weird, considering that there’s half a dozen quartermasters on this ship?”
One of the Canadian sailors stood up. “I’m a quartermaster! Gagnon told me that I was needed on the flight deck!” I thumped his chest. “I can read nautical charts! Why? What’s she doing this for?”
The twenty-five or so sailors abandoned their table and crowded around me, and I hesitantly lowered my ax. “Prince Jordan, that merman I know you all know about, gave me a magical artifact. She stole it from me at gunpoint. I think she wants magic, and I think she’s working with the pirates. We’re sailing blind by her design, and I’m not sure, but she may have had something to do with Captain Kellerman’s death.” The systems had been mysteriously non-functional that dark day, according to Rielle. Everywhere Gagnon went, there was a stench of feces.
“You said she killed Wayne?” Stanholtzer said. “In the brig? But why would she do that?”
“The pirates were all shot, and then it looked like he’d shot himself,” I said. “I’ll bet you anything she wanted to shut up any pirate who knew that she’s colluding with them. I found the bodies in there not even an hour ago, and then she pushed me off the ship. She said it was the water or a bullet.” My voice cracked, and I blinked back tears. I’d never felt so violated in my entire existence. But now was not the time to fall apart.
Stanholtzer assessed me, and then he nodded. “That’s enough for me,” he said, facing everyone. “I won’t serve under an officer like that. How about it, boys?”
The undercurrent of suspicion subtly shifted, and real anger appeared on faces. Hands reached out and patted me on my shoulders, and I gave them a wan little smile.
Stanholtzer held out his hands for the ax. “Petty Officer, go get the nukes. No offense, but you’re not the scariest-looking sailor on the ship.”
There was no laughter. Instead, they all murmured assent as I handed over the ax. “Remember, this is just against Gagnon,” I said. “Captain Hollander is being lied to, and we have to assume that the rest of the officers are, too. I don’t want this to turn into a massacre.”
He nodded, and then turned and faced everyone else. “All of you! Go wake up everyone in berthing! Now! Go, go, go! Muster in the galley!”
His deep shout was all I needed—I fled down the passageway. I ran all the way to my berthing and burst inside, flipping on the light. “Up, now! Muster in the galley!” I shucked my wet clothes once again and pulled on dry coveralls and boots. “All of you! Up!”
All four of my berthing mates slid out of bed and hastily pulled on their clothes. “What is it?” Rielle asked. “Is it something to do with that thing we were dealing with earlier?”
I opened her locker and pulled out the damning nautical chart. “It’s a mutiny against Commander Gagnon.”
Everyone’s eyes widened. Sailors were running in the passageway now, all of them heading toward the galley. Some of them were armed.
I turned to Torres. “Go get Bickley. Get as much magic inside you both as you can. Rielle, you’re coming with me. I want you to tell Captain Hollander exactly what you told me about the quartermasters. You two,” I said, looking at my fairy shipmates, “We’re taking down Commander Gagnon for her crimes against the crew. Are you with us?”
They nodded. “We’ve never liked her anyway,” Frost of Night said. “She’s a jerk to fairies.”
“It’s time to air your grievances,” I said. “Let’s go.”
We all ran out and went our different ways. With the chart tube in hand, Rielle and I pushed against the crowd toward the long officer’s passag
eway a few decks up. Certainly they would’ve heard the commotion by now, but probably wouldn’t have known it was a mutiny against Commander Gagnon.
The passageway was blessedly quiet, since there were no enlisted berthings near there. I ran straight to Captain Hollanders stateroom and banged my fist against it as hard as I could. “Captain! Captain, get up! You need to get up right now!”
A few officers poked their heads out of their staterooms. “Petty Officer, what are you doing?” one asked. “You can’t just—”
Captain Hollander opened his stateroom door, bleary-eyed and confused. He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. “What’s going on?”
I took a step back and slid the nautical chart out of the tube. “Sir, this is Petty Officer Rielle Guyon. She’s a quartermaster, and as such, she’s trained to read nautical charts. Rielle, tell him.”
Rielle unfurled the chart. “Sir, I calculated that we’re near this coordinate,” she said, pointing to the weak spot I’d identified earlier. “Was it Commander Gagnon who told you that nobody on board could read nautical charts?”
He stared at the chart for a long second, and then nodded. “Yes. Yes, it was. She said all of her quartermasters had been taken in the attack. I had no idea there was a quartermaster on board.”
“There are six of us,” Rielle said. “And we were all sent to other departments.”
Other officers were gathering around. I stepped up and looked Captain Hollander square in the eye. “Not only has she lied to you and the rest of the chain of command, it appears that she killed the pirates in the brig along with Seaman Wayne. When I discovered the bodies, she tried to silence me by throwing me overboard. She also took the magic cradle at gunpoint.” I leveled my coolest expression at him. “I also came to inform you that the crew is gathering in the galley as we speak. Sir, if you won’t remove Commander Gagnon from her command immediately, we will. There is no direct threat to you or any of the officers right now, but we mean business.”
I could appreciate the tight spot I’d put Captain Hollander in: his crew was spiraling into a mutiny against his XO, and now I’d told him we were going to do it whether or not he allowed it. In a way, he was no longer in command no matter what I said, and I was the one bringing the news to him. This was going to hurt our relationship, but at that moment, I had to care about removing Commander Gagnon more.
Captain Hollander inhaled deeply, then snapped his fingers and pointed at two ensigns. “Hilpisch, Dykstra, get dressed. Get Chief Buntin and arrest Commander Gagnon. You three,” he said, indicating three other officers. “Wake up the entire chain. Petty Officer… Guyon, was it?”
“Yes, sir,” Rielle said.
“Go get the other quartermasters, and report to my conference room. Bring that chart.”
“Yes sir,” she said again, before running down the passageway.
That left me with Captain Hollander. What could I say to him anymore? Decorum dictated some kind of apology, but… yeah, no, I wasn’t apologizing for this one.
But he laid an expressionless, if cold, look at me. “Petty Officer, what is the name of the lead mutineer?”
“It’s me, sir. I’m the lead mutineer.”
Whatever he expected, it wasn’t that. His coldness shattered, allowing me to see the hurt and shock. “You? This was your idea?”
“Yes, sir. I came up with the idea while I was in the water after your executive officer pushed me over the railing, and I solidified it when I was climbing back onto the ship.”
He winced. “What did I do to deserve this?”
“What do you mean?”
“This lack of respect.”
“Sir, I respect—”
“You never gave me a chance, Goldstein. That’s not even a chain of command issue, that’s personal.” He drew back from me. “You never gave me a chance.”
There was a beat as I realized that I’d broken my own rule. Nobody had disrespected Captain Hollander like I had just now.
My simmering fury quieted, and I swallowed. “So what would you like me to report back to the others in the galley?”
A muscle in his jaw flexed, but he took another deep breath and said, “I’m going to get dressed, and we’re going to the galley together.”
The sea of furious crewmen parted for Captain Hollander as he cut through them, his flashy dress blues a naked contrast to our grungy overalls, baggy sweaters, and smudged hands. Behind him, a line of ensigns and lieutenant commanders followed, their faces identical masks of consternation.
Bickley grabbed me and pulled me into the crowd, partially shielding me from the contingent of officers. “I thought you said you wouldn’t do anything stupid,” he whispered. “Declaring a mutiny is beyond stupid.”
“We’ll talk later, okay?” I whispered back.
Captain Hollander reached the middle of the crowd and surveyed us, his eyes all but sparking with anger. The low murmurs died down.
He threw back his shoulders. “I have spoken with Petty Officer Goldstein about the murder of Seaman Wayne, and the attempted murder of Petty Officer Goldstein. Let me assure you that Commander Gagnon will be dealt with, and punished according to the severity of her crimes.”
“We’ve been sailing blind!” one sailor shouted from the back. “If you’d asked the crew—”
“This is a naval vessel, and I will run it how I see fit!” Captain Hollander shouted. “I speak with my officers, and yes, I trust them to tell me the truth! This is how it is on every ship any of you has ever served on!”
An angry ripple of whispers and mutterings moved around the crowd. Stanholtzer twirled his ax.
“Now,” continued Captain Hollander, “Considering the extenuating circumstances of tonight’s events, I will be lenient and show mercy on all of you despite every person here being guilty of mutiny and sedition.” He unholstered a revolver. “You all have until the count of ten to disperse and go back to your stations, or you will find out why the ship placed me in command. One…”
Nobody moved. I thought I saw Captain Hollander sigh.
A gun’s blast rocked us all backward. “Go back to your stations!”
It was the voice that would not be disobeyed. The imperative shot through me, forcing my legs to move, left, right, left, right, as they carried me out of the galley and to the passageway that led to the engine room.
Other sailors cursed and hissed about Captain Hollander, but just like that, the mutiny was over before it had really begun.
As I descended the stairs, I mulled over my course of action. I’d obviously irrevocably destroyed my good relationship with Captain Hollander, but at least now everyone knew Commander Gagnon was in bad faith. I’d get my magic cradle back, hopefully. We’d be able to chart a course and rescue our friends.
Sometimes victories were tainted with loss. That was the way of both worlds, it seemed.
Bickley, Torres, and I joined up in the final passageway and walked into the engine room together. When the door was shut behind us, Bickley rounded on me. “Rachel. We have to talk about this.”
“I know,” I said quietly. “I expect you have some things to say.”
Torres sagged against a generator. “Why did you go directly to a mutiny?”
The sense of violation returned, and with it, the lump in my throat. “She threw me off the ship. In an ocean filled with monsters that eat ghosts, that’s tantamount to attempted murder. She’d already murdered Wayne. I couldn’t trust that going to Bickley first, or through the chain of command, was going to do anything. For all I knew, that would tip her off.”
I leaned back against a generator. “I’m sorry. I know I messed up tonight. I just go so angry, I got tunnel vision about it all and made a bad decision.”
“They might remove you from the ship yet,” Bickley said, crossing his arms and shaking his head. There was no good humor on his face. “Your human record doesn’t count, nor does Captain Hollander’s guilt over killing you. You’ve been acting wild since getting on the ship. R
unning to see the dragon almost got you eaten. And then there was the whole bomb thing, which I was part of too, but it’s still there on your record. People remember that you wanted to leave. You’re not in the greatest standing, Rach.”
“So what am I now?” I asked, no inflection in my voice. “Are you going to chastise me by calling me selfish?”
That’s what they did, because it worked. It always worked. It was a swift kick in the butt for me, regardless of whether or not it was true. And now, it was not true. I was a lot of unsavory things, but I was not selfish.
“You are being selfish,” Torres insisted. “You’re so worked up about your own feelings that—”
“Bullshit.”
Their jaws dropped. They probably didn’t believe that I knew that kind of language, since sweet, religious Rachel Goldstein had never sworn in front of them before in English.
Anger flooded through me, and I pushed away from the generator. “Torres, did it ever occur to you that I’m entitled to feel strong feelings when people harm me? I was angry that Captain Hollander wasn’t apologizing, but you called me selfish for actually feeling something about it. Someone just tried to kill me again, and you’re shooting straight from the hip because I went and did something you wouldn’t have. I protected the entire crew by throwing up the flag, knowing full well that this could be the end of my career on the ship. So maybe I screwed up by not respecting Captain Hollander enough to go to him, but what I did, I did out of concern for my shipmates, not selfishness. Back off.”
Bickley slowly put his arm between us. “Okay, let’s all just cool down.”
Torres and I were still scowling at each other, but I broke eye contact and looked at Bickley. “It’s my shift now. You can go back to berthing.” Despite my suspicion that I’d be targeted in the engine room because of its solitude, I didn’t want to so much as look at anyone at the moment.
I stepped onto the small dais where each nuke worked during their shift, placed my hand on the sphere in its spindly perch, and gently guided the magic into my core. My friends hadn’t moved, and instead we’re just watching me.
Sea of Lost Souls Page 16