Iron Tide Rising

by Carrie Ryan

  But more arresting than anything else was the sound. People chattering and creatures chittering, voices babbling in panic as they leaned over the railings, staring back at the horizon behind them. It was that panic that puzzled Marrill. She tried to figure out what could cause so many giant ships to crowd the Pirate Stream, with seemingly no regard for the poor Kraken.

  “It looks like they’re running from something,” she shouted. She looked to Fin. “Maybe we should get…”

  They reached the peak of their swing. For a long moment, they hung motionless in the air.

  Her lips formed automatically

  the word

  “Ardent.”

  Fortunately, the Kraken rocked back before the wizard’s name came out. Marrill bit her tongue as they swooped down over the deck, her eyes catching the closed door to what had once been Ardent’s cabin.

  She braced against the twisting daggers of sorrow and betrayal that stabbed her heart every time she thought of him. Sorrow for losing him; sorrow for what he had lost: his love, the wizard Annalessa. Betrayal at what he had done—what he had become—because of his grief.

  She couldn’t wallow in the feeling, though, or it would paralyze her. The Ardent she knew was gone, she reminded herself as they neared the peak of their backswing. Even so, she couldn’t quite bring herself to name their new companion, either.

  “…the wizard?” she finished,

  the words dangling

  in the moment

  of still.

  Fin spun as he swung back to starboard. “He doesn’t seem much like the helping sort,” he called over his shoulder to her.

  Overhead, tackle squealed as the Ropebone Man—the Kraken’s living rigging—shifted and moved. He tightened the lines that stretched from him in all directions, while the many-legged pirats scampered along the yards, adjusting the sails. The Kraken turned, taking advantage of a break in the onslaught to veer wide.

  “Almost through,” Remy shouted, tension lacing her voice. “I think we can skirt around the rest of these big ones.”

  Marrill’s swinging slowed as the Kraken steadied into her new course. Her feet skipped lightly, tripped slightly, then gained purchase on the deck. She pulled loose the knot at her waist, dropping the rope and running with the last of her momentum to the port railing.

  The remaining enormous ships smashed through the waves toward them, but the Kraken was fast; there was plenty of room to slip around them. Up ahead, the big ships thinned out into smaller ones at the edge of the fleet. Beyond them were calmer waters the Kraken could handle with ease.

  Marrill’s breath caught. “Look!” she shouted, pointing. A ship smaller than the Kraken had gotten ahead of itself. It must have been sucked in by the wake of the remaining massive ships; it was caught between two of them, clearly struggling to turn and escape.

  She gripped the rail, feeling the wood grain press into her skin. The little ship was about to get smashed to pieces, like a nut in a nutcracker.

  “It’s not going to make it,” a girl Marrill didn’t recognize whispered beside her. She sucked in a sharp breath. “They’re caught in the recirculation.”

  Marrill felt ill. “Remy!” she cried. “Turn in! We have to help them!”

  “You’re crazy,” the captain replied calmly.

  Fin leaned dangerously far over the port railing beside her. “Remy, Marrill’s right,” he said. “That’s not just any ship.” He pointed to the black flag flapping from the tip of the mast.

  Marrill hadn’t noticed it before, but now that she did, she recognized the ship instantly. After all, she’d seen a flag like that before, on a ship shaped just like this one. Twice, in fact. Once had been the Black Dragon, the ship that nearly destroyed the Pirate Stream. Then again on the Dragon’s smaller replacement, the Purple Serpent. She and Remy had hitched a ride on it after a flood of Stream water had picked up their car from an Arizona parking lot and turned it into a fish.

  This ship was even smaller yet, but in nearly every other respect, it was identical.

  Marrill spun toward Fin. He looked back at her with the same tense concern in his eyes.

  “Stavik,” they said as one.

  CHAPTER 2

  Smash Course

  Fin leapt onto the railing, eyes wide as the two gargantuan ships tilted toward each other with no regard for the smaller boat between them. In a few moments, she’d be crushed to timbers, and any survivors would go straight into the Pirate Stream. The magical waters might change them into monsters, or memories, or a million other things he could think of, and a million he couldn’t. But whatever they became, one thing was for sure: If they went into the Stream, they wouldn’t be “survivors” anymore.

  Stavik and his crew would be killed.

  They had to do something. Stavik had been the most important adult in Fin’s life growing up aside from his adopted parents, the Parsnickles, the Pirate King had been a mentor and a role model, albeit one with a penchant for thievery, and Fin loved him for it.

  Now, Fin only knew one thing: Whoever he was, he was the opposite of Vell. And that meant there was no way he was going to let Stavik get squished.

  “Quick,” he yelled to Remy, “we have to go in after them! We have to save them!”

  She gave him a sad look. “I wish we could, Plus One,” she called back, using the only name that she knew him by: the other kid on the ship—Marrill plus one. “I want to save them, but I don’t see how. If we get between those two ships, we’ll just end up crushed as well.”

  Fin exhaled. His shoulders fell. She was right. But he couldn’t give up. “There has to be a way.”

  “Welp,” the Naysayer grunted, “ya could just ram ’em a quarter tilt off their bow, pushin’ ’em around and out the recycle while still maintaining enough momentum to carry us clear of the collision area.”

  As one, Fin, Marrill, and Fig turned and stared at the old lizard. Fin could practically hear Remy’s jaw drop.

  “Course ya could just stand there gaping like your brains fell out; that’s fine, too,” the Naysayer sneered. He casually tied off the three ropes he’d been holding and lurched toward the hold. “Anyone needs me, I’ll be downstairs cobblin’ together a life raft.”

  Fin looked back at the struggling ship, mentally mapping out the Naysayer’s plan. “I think it’ll work,” he breathed. He bounded up the stairs to the quarterdeck without missing a beat. “I think it’ll work!” he yelled to Remy.

  “Hmm, maybe.” Worry creased the older girl’s forehead. “I can get us in, probably fast enough to get us out again. Probably,” she stressed. “But it’ll be hard to line up unless they know what we’re doing.”

  Fin glanced toward the floundering ship. She was too far away to hear them, too far away to catch a signal. He’d have to have wings to reach her in time. His fingers twisted in the strings on the arms of his skysails. A smile crooked across his mouth.

  “Leave that to me,” he told her. “Just go, now!”

  “Fine,” Remy said through gritted teeth. “Hope you know what you’re doing.”

  She turned the wheel sharply. The Kraken swooped a half-moon through the water, lining up to run straight down the middle of the rapidly closing gap between the two massive ships.

  “Full sails!” she shouted. Up above, the Ropebone Man flexed his knotty muscles, snapping the sails to life. The Kraken sped toward the opening, even as the big ships raced on, oblivious. Their giant hulls grew closer until their sides almost kissed as they smashed through the waves. The Kraken would barely have room to scoot through.

  Fin took a deep breath. Showtime.

  Before he could talk himself out of it, he leapt off the quarterdeck railing, hit the main deck at full run, vaulted the forecastle, and darted toward the bowsprit.

  “Fin, what are you doing?!” Marrill cried after him. He didn’t have time to stop and explain. He snagged a loose rope just as he hit the tip of the bow and swung out to one side.

  A breathless second and
his feet touched the hull of one of the big ships. He kicked, clinging to the rope as he ran sideways along it. And then, just as gravity started to catch up, he let go of the rope, yanked the strings on his sleeves, and jumped.

  The skysails in his jacket burst to life. The howling wind created by the towering ships buffeted him, threatened to roll him. But it buoyed him, too. Below, the waters of the Stream shimmered and roiled, practically whispering all the things he might turn into if he crashed. He struggled to keep his arms out, to keep his back straight and head up as he swooped toward Stavik’s boat.

  A few harrowing heartbeats later, there was dullwood beneath his feet. He staggered to a stop, his hand clenched in the thieves’ sign and a “Hello, fellow shady-fellows” on his lips. Confused stares surrounded him. Better than sword blades, he thought.

  Shadows dropped across the pirate vessel. Overhead, the ships’ towering walls closed in, blocking out the sun. They’d be smashed to splinters lick-straight.

  “No time to tooth-rattle, bloods,” he said, darting through the stunned crowd toward the ship’s wheel. “Helmsman,” he called to the quaking pirate manning it, “turn quarter on, let that ship hit us just by the bow.” The pirate opened his scaly snoot of a mouth in confusion.

  “Do it!” Fin commanded, grabbing hold of the railing to brace himself.

  The helmsman nodded, stunned, and did as he was told. The ship turned, lining up just as the Kraken bore down on them. Pirates screamed, clutching each other in a very un-pirate-like manner.

  The ships collided. Timber cracked and snapped. The deck rocked. Fin’s gut heaved; he tasted bile rising up the back of his throat.

  At first, he thought they were wrecked for real, sunk and dead. But the Naysayer had known what he was talking about. The angle was just right; the ships glanced off each other. The pirate ship turned, shoved backward. Its figurehead, a coiled lavender salamander, shattered apart against the wooden wall beside them, but the ship itself washed free.

  The massive boats thundered on, leaving the smaller crafts spinning in their wake. A moment later, the two vessels crashed together, obliterating the space where the pirate ship had just been.

  A cheer went up from the pirates. Before Fin had time to think, hands slapped his back and lifted him high in the air. He laughed, soaking in the pirates’ admiration. Being the center of attention wasn’t an experience he had too often. And besides, he knew it wouldn’t be long before they totally forgot about him—everyone did, eventually.

  The pirates lowered Fin to the deck as the Kraken sidled up beside them. Fin had already started toward the railing when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. The pirate looming over him was more scar than skin, his frame lanky and angular in its dragon leather vest and pants.

  “Stavik!” Fin cried happily. Then he cringed at his own excessive friendliness. He’d forgotten—Stavik hated friendliness.

  But the Pirate King surprised him. “I don’t know ya, kid, but ya did good.” The scars on his brow struggled against each other in a show of admiration. “I owe ya, and I’m not a man to forget his debts.”

  Fin felt his throat tighten. He wished it were true, but he knew it wasn’t. On multiple fronts, really. He thought about the time Stavik had taught him to jimmy open a window latch while hanging from the eaves by his toes, or when he’d shown him how to skin the rings off the feeler-fingers of a merchant arch-nid without it so much as noticing they were gone. Those were good times. But Stavik would never remember Fin. That was just the way things were.

  He placed his hand over the Pirate King’s, watching the old thief’s eyes widen in surprise. “No, Stavik,” he said. “You don’t remember, but the debt was mine.”

  Stavik considered him for a moment, then nodded. “Call us square up, then.”

  Beside them, a rope dropped down, securing the Lavender Salamander to the side of the Kraken for Fin to climb up. “So,” he said, hoping to linger in Stavik’s attention for just a little while longer. “Mighty big fleet, not like you all to be in the middle of it. Were you… um, running from something?”

  Stavik snorted. “Don’t run from much, kid.” A sharp dagger slipped out from his waistband. Fin’s heart skipped a beat until the Pirate King started picking his teeth with it. “But yeah, this time. Yeah. Creeping metal.”

  The Iron Tide. Fin grimaced. It was a little weird to think the Tide could be in front of them, being as how they’d left it behind in Meres. But then, the Stream wasn’t exactly flat; it didn’t flow like other rivers.

  “Must have washed in on some weird current,” Fin said aloud.

  Stavik nodded. “And just keeps coming,” he murmured, “like a spreading plague. Anything it touches gets infected, turns into a statue. And I mean anything. Ground, Stream, flesh—dullwood, even.”

  Above, Remy popped her head over the side of the Kraken. “Hi!” she chirped cheerily, waving. At the sight of the teenager, half the pirates cringed and took an involuntary step back.

  “Ah, for the mercy of the moonless night, not that one again,” Stavik groaned. Fin started to say something more, but it was no good. The Pirate King’s attention was broken; Fin was forgotten. Remy had apparently made quite an impression on the pirates the last time she’d been on their ship. They’d taken her hostage briefly. By the end of it, the pirates would have paid a ransom themselves, just to get rid of her.

  Fin felt the warmth of the sun on his neck as he watched straggling ships race past the Salamander. The big ships were long gone, but the smaller ones still swarmed by like locusts. They cut a light spray of Stream mist in the air, filling it with a scent like cinnamon and rain.

  All of them fleeing the Iron Tide. Fin swallowed, thinking of the places the Tide had taken. And of one in particular. The Khaznot Quay. The place where Fin had grown up, learned to be a thief, lived most of his life.

  Dread coiled around him, tangling his arms and snaring his legs, threatening to drag him away from himself. He tried not to think about the unstable old house on Gutterleak Way. He tried not to worry about sweet Mrs. Parsnickle or her grumpy husband, Arler, two good people just doing their best to get by and make other people’s lives better along the way.

  Surely they were safe. Surely the Quay was safe. But then, it wasn’t like Stavik and his pie shop pirates had a den in every port on the Stream. Sure, they could have been at sea when the Tide came, but…

  To chase the thought away, he headed toward the Kraken. He didn’t have all day, after all. The pirates were milling about, making sure the Lavender Serpent was shipshape, but they weren’t going to stick around long.

  “…sure you don’t want to come up and see my ship?” Remy was saying. “I don’t bite. I mean, I know I did bite, but you had that coming.”

  Stavik rubbed his wrist. “Mmm, yes, I recall.” He flicked his tooth-picking dagger against the Kraken’s hull to clean it. Remy wrinkled her nose at him in disgust. “Oh, sorry,” he muttered. He pronounced the word like it was from a foreign language; Fin knew from experience that he didn’t say it often.

  Marrill’s head poked up beside Remy’s. “But where will you go?” she asked.

  The dragon leather vest wriggled on the Pirate King’s shoulders as he shrugged. “Well, that there’s the problem, in’it? All I know for sure is we can’t go home.”

  “You could come with us,” Marrill offered. Fin smiled, imagining traveling with his old mentor. But as much as a part of him wanted that, he knew it wouldn’t happen. Saving the world wasn’t the pirate way.

  “Pass,” Stavik said, eyeing Remy cautiously. “But I owe you a debt for saving us. Name your price, and I shall repay it.”

  Marrill giggled and whispered in Remy’s ear. Remy winked at her. Together, they pointed down at Fin.

  “How about we just take that one crewman?” Remy said. A smile danced on her lips. “He looks like he belongs up here anyway.”

  Stavik glanced down at Fin. Not even a hint of recognition crossed his face. “Fine. On with you, b
oy.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Good luck, lad. Watch the blond one—she’ll poke you right in the eye, no warning. Ain’t civilized, that.”

  Fin jumped to the railing and scrambled up the rope ladder dangling down the side of the Kraken. Halfway up, he turned around. “Stavik!” he yelled.

  The Pirate King grunted. “What?”

  Fin swallowed, not sure if he was ready for this. But he had to ask. Even though he knew the answer.

  “The Iron Tide… did it… did it really take the Khaznot Quay?”

  Stavik squinted at him. The ugly red scar on his chin twitched. “Aye, lad. Every last drab and drillet.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Things Obscured in the Mist

  Marrill stood beside Fin at the stern of the ship, watching the golden water turn ruddy as the Stream narrowed into a black-water bog. A smell like leather and decay filled the air. Rafts of creeping moss bobbed by. Tendrils of it twitched unnaturally and waved toward them as they passed.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly. She’d never seen his home on Gutterleak Way, never met the Parsnickles, his semiadopted family. But she remembered all too well the dream of her own mother. She remembered the feeling of fingers in her hair. The fear when her mother had first gotten sick. She knew how Fin must feel because the same feelings threatened to overwhelm her every time she thought about losing her mom.

  A girl lingered beside them. Marrill knit her eyebrows in confusion, but the girl just pointed to Marrill’s wrist. Fig—Fade—Friend, said a scrap of sail bound there. The handwriting was Marrill’s. Above it was a sketch of the girl, also in Marrill’s own hand.

  “Maybe the Iron Tide isn’t forever,” the girl—Fig, apparently—said.

  The rumor vines that twined around the ship’s railing echoed her:

  Fin’s frown deepened. Marrill swallowed. Sitting here wasn’t helping. “All the more reason for us to get moving and find out how to fix this,” she declared, trying her best to sound confident. She pushed away from the railing, tugging Fin after her. “Come on,” she said. “It’s high time we find out exactly what the plan is.”