“I think we’re close.” Lannadae leaned farther over the railing. “But I can’t say for certain. Without tasting the water, feeling the currents . . . how do you people keep from getting lost all the time?”
“We use maps,” Danielle said. “You’d have to ask Snow for the details.”
“The position of the sun and stars give you a general location, so long as you adjust for the seasons,” said Snow. “I can show you how to read the charts in the map room if you’d like. I’ve been plotting out our route as we traveled.”
“Maybe later?” Danielle interrupted gently.
Lannadae was searching the water. “Are the sharks still with us?”
“Two of them.” The rest had left earlier this morning when they ran out of food. These two would depart soon enough. Danielle called to them often, thanking them for their help and asking them to stay just a little longer, but eventually they would grow hungry and need to hunt.
Lannadae smiled and pulled her body up onto the rail.
“What are you doing?” Danielle grabbed her arm.
“Tell them to protect me. I need to make sure we’re still going in the right direction.” Lannadae moved one tail over the railing.
“They’re sharks, and they’ve got to be hungry by now. They might—”
“They’ll listen to you. You’re Cinderella!” With that, Lannadae pulled free of Danielle’s grip and dove into the water.
“She certainly trusts you,” Snow commented.
Danielle leaned out, trying to find where Lannadae had gone. She dreaded what she would see. Please don’t eat her.
The mermaid surfaced a short distance ahead of the ship, giggling like a child. She dove again, then leaped from the water. Her leaps were smaller than the ritual greeting of Lirea and her tribe, but what Lannadae lacked in strength and form she made up for in sheer joy.
Both sharks swam over to investigate, but a combination of shouting and begging convinced them to turn away. By now, several of the crew had come to watch Lannadae frolic in the water. Even Captain Hephyra chuckled as Lannadae skimmed the surface, crossing to and fro in front of the Phillipa.
“We’re close,” Lannadae shouted. Her gills were red slashes along the sides of her neck. Even though Danielle knew what they were, the sight still shocked her. “I know this place. Morveren is that way.”
Hephyra turned to shout, “Steady a-starboard!” The Phillipa turned slightly, following Lannadae’s directions. “Steady!”
“Captain, do we have any meat to spare?” Danielle asked.
“I’m sure we could find something. Why?”
“To thank the sharks for not eating our mermaid.”
Hephyra grinned and ordered one of the men down to the galley.
“Forget the sharks,” Snow said, her forehead wrinkling as she studied the sky. “You’ll want to throw her a line.”
“What is it?” Danielle asked.
“Another storm.” Snow pointed ahead.
“Captain!” The cry came from atop the mainmast. One of the sailors leaned out from the crow’s nest, ropes twined around his wrist and hand for balance. “Rough seas ahead.”
“Rotted hell. We’ve barely dried out from the last one.” Hephyra cupped her hands to her mouth. “Secure the ship. Reef the sails, and keep her on course. And someone get that mermaid out of the water.”
“I wanted to stay,” Lannadae was saying as two men hauled her up. She had managed to catch a large silver fish, though she had at least been smart enough not to start eating until she was out of the water and away from the sharks. Her nails had to be sharper and stronger than a human’s, the way they pierced the fish’s side. She sat down on the deck, water puddling around her, and began to eat. Between bites, she said, “I’ll be safer beneath the waves. My tails have been so dry. The scales are already starting to chip.”
“Your scales won’t matter if those sharks grow nervous enough to take a bite out of you.” Danielle started to take her hand, but Lannadae waved her away. She stuck the whole fish in her mouth and crawled along the deck.
“Not the cabin,” said Snow. She tugged Danielle toward the map room at the very back of the ship.
The masts bowed as the crew hurried to furl the sails. Danielle glimpsed Captain Hephyra taking over at the wheel, fighting to keep the ship turned into the wind. Talia met them in front of the map room, taking Danielle’s hand and helping her inside. When the door opened, the wind created a miniature storm of paper. Lannadae slid in after her, and Snow hauled the door shut.
With three people and one undine, the map room was quite cramped. Snow’s choker flared to light, illuminating the room. A single desk occupied half the room. An enormous map of Lorindar and its surrounding countries dominated the far wall. To one side, long drawers of red-stained wood were mounted to the wall, each one latched with a small brass hook.
Stone weights held another map flat on the desk. One of the mirrors from Snow’s choker stood in the center of the map, thin gold wires acting as both legs and pins.
Wind howled, and the Phillipa rocked to the side. One of the rocks slid onto the floor. Talia grabbed the ornately embroidered chair behind the desk before it could topple over.
Snow squeezed past Talia to claim the chair. The desk itself was secured to the floor to keep it from sliding. She jabbed a finger at the map. “The wind is all wrong for this part of the sea. This is magical, like the storm that chased us from Lorindar.”
Danielle held the other side of the desk for balance. The lines and arrows covering the map made no sense to her, but she trusted Snow.
“Could Morveren be the one controlling the storms?” Talia asked. She didn’t seem to notice the pitching floor. Her knees bent to shift her weight, easily compensating for the motion.
“She couldn’t have sent them all the way to Lorindar.”
“What about Lirea?” asked Lannadae. “If she’s followed us here—”
“I don’t think so,” said Snow. “This storm . . . it feels settled, somehow. It’s been here a while. Lannadae, you said that when you tried to find Morveren, the sea grew angry and the waves tried to batter you against the rocks.”
“That’s right.” Lannadae pulled herself up to look at the map, her tails spread back in a V for balance. She jabbed her partly eaten fish at the map. “You think the wind was deliberately keeping me away?”
Another rock slid from the desk, and the map curled back over Snow’s mirror. “I don’t know,” said Snow. “But it’s really starting to irritate me.”
“The Phillipa is tough, but if the wind smashes us into the rocks, we’re still going down. If this thing is guarding Morveren, we have to fight through it,” said Talia.
Snow cocked her head. “What do you mean ‘we’? What are you planning to do, throw a knife at it?”
“Can you fight it?” Danielle spoke quickly, trying to cut off the annoyance she saw in Talia’s eyes.
Snow grabbed her mirror from the map and returned it to her choker. “There’s no body to attack. It’s not a demon hiding in the center of the storm. It’s the whole storm.” She rose from her chair. “I need to be out there. I need to feel the wind on my skin, to allow its power to touch my own.”
Snow stepped to the door and pushed it outward. The wind yanked it from her grasp, slamming it open so hard the topmost hinge cracked loose from the frame.
Danielle and Talia both moved to brace Snow’s arms. When Snow cast her spells, she sometimes lost track of the world around her.
Waves crashed against the side of the ship, washing over the main deck below. None were tall enough yet to reach the map room, but that could change at any time. Salty spray chilled Danielle’s face.
Sailors shouted as they fought to secure the boat below. The guns were still lashed tight from the previous storm. Lifelines spread from the mainmast like a spiderweb. How could any storm have built so quickly?
Even with the sails furled, the wind still carried the ship along at a good pac
e. So far, Captain Hephyra had managed to keep the ship aligned with the wind. Danielle tried not to think about what would happen if Hephyra lost control of the wheel, and those winds struck the Phillipa broadside.
The door started to blow shut, but Talia snapped her foot out to stop it before it could slam into them. She grunted at the impact. “How long do you need to stand here, Snow?”
“The wind is bound to this place.” Snow’s eyes were squeezed shut, her face crinkled against the rain. “I’ve never seen a binding like this. I might be able to break it eventually, but it’s like trying to snap steel chain with a cooking knife.”
Danielle squeezed Snow’s arm to get her attention. “If it’s a guardian, can you hide us somehow?”
“Illusion doesn’t work too well on things that don’t have eyes.”
“So what would work?”
Snow tilted her head back, like a child tasting the rain. “That depends on what it is. If it’s elemental-based, it’s ‘seeing’ us by sensing where we block the wind. A demonic or spiritual creature would taste the blood and life aboard the ship. Given the nature of the Phillipa, it would probably see the ship just as easily. Though it could be some sort of controlled projection, in which case its master is probably watching through—”
Danielle tugged her arm again. “Guess!”
“Guess?” Snow opened her eyes and looked at Danielle. Wind whipped her hair into her face, spoiling her offended pose. “I suppose . . . I don’t sense a scrying, which means it’s likely to be an independent creature of some sort.”
A scream drew Danielle’s attention to the deck. One of the lifelines had snapped, and a man clung to the railing to keep from falling overboard. “Hurry, Snow!”
Snow ripped a mirror from her choker. With her other hand, she pulled a short-bladed dagger from her belt. She nicked the ball of her thumb, then smeared the blood over the mirror’s surface. After returning the knife to its sheath, she brought the mirror to her lips and began to whisper.
“Is she doing magic?” Lannadae asked from inside the map room. “I want to see!”
“She’ll show you some card tricks later,” Talia snapped. “Snow?”
Snow closed her fingers around the mirror. “We have to get this as far away from the ship as we can.”
“Give it to me.” Danielle grabbed the mirror, then stepped into the room to swipe the remains of Lannadae’s snack.
“Hey!” Lannadae tried to take it back, but Danielle was already moving out into the storm.
Danielle paused only long enough to jam the mirror deep into the half-eaten fish. “Talia, I could use some help.”
“That’s disgusting.” Talia shoved Snow into the map room and slammed the door.
“Try changing a diaper.” Danielle managed a grin. “Think you can get me to the rail without letting me go overboard?”
Talia pulled a small, spindle-shaped whip from her belt. Danielle recognized the zaraq whip as one of her preferred weapons. Talia pulled out the thin line and used it to lash her arm to Danielle’s.
They crouched low, practically crawling as they made their way toward the starboard rail. Bad as the wind had been before, now it was all Danielle could do to maintain her footing.
“Keep your head down,” Talia yelled.
By now, most of the crew had hunkered down, clinging to whatever they could find. The sails were furled, the deck secured, and there was little to do but wait for orders and hope the storm passed soon.
The whip bit deep into Danielle’s arm. The railing was only a few steps away, but Talia held her back.
“Not yet.” The ship tilted again, rearing back as another wave passed beneath them. “Now!”
Danielle stumbled forward and thrust an arm through the rail, clinging with all of her strength. The water was far too close for her liking. The ship settled again, raising her away from the waves. The ocean was too rough for her to see whether any sharks remained. Praying they hadn’t fled, she reached through the rail and threw the fish and mirror into the water. “Eat it and swim away as far and fast as you can!”
The Phillipa tilted again. Danielle braced her feet against the rails and tried to turn around, but Talia held her in place.
“Just wait!” Talia shouted. “Don’t go until the ship pitches forward.”
“What?” Danielle shook her head. “You’re crazy.”
“Don’t you trust me?” Talia grinned. The waves tilted the ship forward like a toy, and Talia shouted, “Come on!”
Danielle lurched to her feet. Water flowed over them both as Talia dragged them onward. There was no way to stop, and she would have fallen if not for the whip tying her to Talia. Danielle held her breath, but the Phillipa settled flat, allowing them to recover. The stern began to sink, tossing them both back toward the map room. Danielle’s shoulder slammed into the door, cracking the frame further. Talia managed to catch herself with her free hand.
Talia was laughing as she pulled open the door. “After you, Your Highness.”
“You’re a madwoman,” Danielle said, though she could feel her own manic laughter struggling to burst free. Or maybe that was her last meal. She gave silent thanks for Snow’s magical tea.
“Fun, wasn’t it?” Talia began untying her whip from Danielle’s arm.
“Can you tell whether it worked?” Danielle asked.
Snow nodded. “The mirror is racing away at a good pace.”
Even as she spoke, the motion of the ship began to ease. The wind quieted, and slowly the Phillipa steadied herself in the water.
“I knew it!” Lannadae cheered. “I knew Snow White and Cinderella would save us.”
“Snow White and Cinderella saved us?” Talia repeated. Shaking her head, she tucked her whip away.
A short time later, Captain Hephyra opened the door. Sunlight streamed into the map room. Water dripped from Hephyra’s clothes. Stub the cat was curled in her arms, meowing pitifully.
“Is he all right?” Danielle asked.
“He’s fine.” Hephyra scratched the cat’s ears. “He decided to hide out in one of the boats. By the time the storm passed, he was up to his neck in water, but he was too petrified to climb out. He’s not the brightest animal.”
Outside, Danielle could see the crew mopping the worst of the water from the deck. Those who had recovered enough to move, at least. Some were still doubled over the railing. Experienced sailors or not, such weather was enough to twist any man’s stomach.
“Are you expecting any more surprises on this voyage?” Hephyra asked.
“Probably,” said Danielle.
“I figured as much.” Hephyra wiped her face, then ran a hand over the cracked doorframe. “I’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from breaking my ship any more than you need to. It stings.”
Danielle nodded. “So noted, Captain.”
Hephyra turned to face the crew. “What are you lot waiting for? Bring the ship about and stand by to anchor.”
“To anchor?” Snow repeated.
Hephyra pointed to the front of the ship. “We’ve got rocks ahead. Any longer in that storm, and we’d have ripped the bottom out from beneath us. The Phillipa can’t sail through those waters. The rest of this journey, you make in the boat.”
“It’s all right,” Lannadae said, crawling past Hephyra to the rail. She pulled herself up and drew a deep breath. “We’re here.”
CHAPTER 6
LOOKING OUT OVER THE WATER, Danielle understood why Captain Hephyra didn’t dare take the Phillipa further. Rocks jutted into the air, as though the sea had flooded an ancient mountain range and only the peaks still protruded. Some were barely the size of their boat, while others were large enough to support clusters of tight-packed grasses and even trees.
Lannadae sat at the front of the boat, her tails pressed to either side. For this journey, Hephyra had ordered the cutter lowered. This was a larger boat than the dinghy, with room for them all as well as two oarsmen and, if all went well, a second mermaid passenger. J
ames had volunteered to row them out, along with a heavyset bearded man named Douglas. James clung to the rope ladder to hold the boat in place as Snow climbed down.
The waves filled the air with mist. “You’re certain you know where Morveren is?” Danielle asked.
“Morveren told us all before she left,” said Lannadae. “She said she went to live with the giants.”
Talia stepped from the ladder into the rear of the boat, seating herself in front of Danielle. “If we’re hunting giants, I’m going to need to grab a few more weapons.”
“There are two rocks that look like the heads of giants,” Lannadae said. “Morveren lives there.”
James pushed them away from the Phillipa as Douglas fitted the oars into the oarlocks. Though James sat facing Lannadae, he deliberately avoided looking at her.
“Are you all right?” Danielle asked.
“I’m fine, Highness,” James said. “Thank you.”
“If you prefer to stay—”
“I said I’m fine.” He flushed, apparently remembering who he was speaking to. “I’m sorry. The last time I was this close to one of them, they were dragging me under. I thought I was about to die.” He stared out at the waves. “We had over a hundred men on the Branwyn. Why am I the one who survived, Princess?”
Danielle searched for comfort, but what good were words to a man who had watched everyone he knew die?
It was Talia who answered. “Asking that question is a quick path to madness. There’s no reason. You lived. Use that life.”
James nodded and began to row. “I intend to.”
Atop the Phillipa, Captain Hephyra leaned over the railing to shout, “I want you back here by nightfall, mermaid or no mermaid. If you spy dark clouds, turn back at once.”
James and Douglas soon settled into a rhythm. Mist sprayed the air as the waves broke upon the rocks. Danielle could see the black shells of barnacles packed together on the rocks near the waterline. Higher up, some of the rocks carried patches of dark green moss.
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