Page 43 of The Isles of the Gods
She’s not moving.
Leander snaps out of whatever trance he was in, and the wind and waves around us only grow worse, the spirits raging without his direction as he drops to his knees beside her, hands pressing helplessly at the wounds on her torso. Then he looks at her face, her staring, unseeing eyes, and he goes still.
A wave hits theLizabetta,and the ship heels wildly, forcing us to grab for whatever’s closest—the scholar grabs me as I nearly fall across the deck, and I climb back up him to hold on to the rail. I can’t imagine that cannonball stopped on the way down—water must be pouring into the hull even now, swamping the bilges and filling the cargo holds.
“Surrender, call off your magician, and you will not be harmed!”The voice is tinny, coming from the steamer through a loud-hailer.
Then, apart from the wind and the water, everything goessilent. No gunfire, no cannons. They’re giving us time to consider.
As the ship steadies, Keegan, Jonlon, and I hurry toward Rensa. Abri and Conor emerge from belowdecks, where they were building more bottle bombs. Conor takes one look at his brother’s arm and hurries over to him, pulling a rag from his pocket to try to stop the bleeding.
We gather around the captain and Leander, who still kneels beside Kyri’s body. Her gray eyes stare up at the sky.
“Selly, Keegan, behind the mast,” says Rensa immediately. “Out of sight.”
“What?” I say as the scholar grabs my arm, hauling me into the lee of the mast without asking questions.
“I don’t want them getting a count on us,” Rensa says. “Conor and Abri were belowdecks before. Let them count them now and think we’re fewer than we are.”
“You’re thinking of surrender?” Keegan asks slowly. “They’re lying about our safety.”
“Agreed,” says Rensa. “But the prince can’t keep this up forever, and one way or another, they’re going to sink us if we don’t stop running. If that happens, we’ll die. So we have to try and see if we can’t get some of us through it. Your Highness, time to stop the storm.”
The prince, still by Kyri’s side—his hand rests on hers, his skin bloodied—looks up at us as if he’s only just registering the captain’s words.
Then the wind begins to ease, and the waves sink to almost nothing. The wild gale and the huge seas are simply…gone. If any part of me doubted his magic created them, the quiet around us now reminds me how powerful this boy is.
TheLizabettaslows, the steamer pulling ahead of us, and the warmth of the late-afternoon sun reasserts itself. It doesn’t help—I can’t stop shivering.
“Conor, the wheel,” Rensa says, leaving it and stepping forward to grab Leander by the arm, hauling him to his feet. “Selly, with me, before they slow too.”
Already up ahead the steamer is losing speed, and soon she’ll wheel around to head back toward us. But right now, Rensa is marching the prince along the deck, and I hurry after her—I don’t understand what she’s doing, can’t make my mind slow down, make sense.
Rensa stops beside theLittle Lizabetta,the shore boat we keep lashed on the foredeck. “Listen,” she says quietly. “Stay down. Their count is two short. That gives us a chance to hide the two of you.”
I open my mouth and close it again, unable to speak. It’s like all the air’s left my lungs. Like I’m underwater. Beside me, the prince makes a wordless sound, pressing one hand over his mouth.
“When we’re gone,” continues Rensa, “however we end up gone, maybe the ship’ll still be afloat. That happens, young man, you listen to Selly. She’s your best chance. You can try the shore boat if the cannon holes are too bad.”
Her gaze swings around to me, and our eyes lock. I’m shaking.
“I’ve been trying to teach you to be a captain, girl, which means taking care of your people before yourself, seeing things through their eyes. It’s why I’ve had you doing every job on the boat, and the worst ones most of all. To learn what you’re asking others to do.”
I try to speak, but she keeps me silent with a shake of her head. “I’m out of time to teach you the slow way, so you’ll just have to listen: I don’t walk the deck handing out hugs, but I’d die for my crew, and they know it. That’s a lesson you need to learn this very minute, because you’re about to become all the prince has in the world.”
My breath’s coming jaggedly, and I make myself nod, staring up at her.
“And if you see your father again,” she says quietly, “you tell Stanton Walker I kept my promise, kept his daughter safe.”
“Rensa,” I protest, grabbing for words. “You can’t—”
“Arguing to the end,” she says. “The world’s bigger than you, Selly Walker. Bigger than me. That’s what I’ve been trying to teach you all this time. Keep the prince alive. Whatever happens—whatever happens—he has to survive.”
Before I can reply, she’s turning on her heel and striding back up the deck to Kyri’s body, where Jonlon, Conor, Abri, and the scholar wait for her. He’s white as a ghost, gazing at us without a word.
Numb, I force myself into action, dropping to crawl around behind the little shore boat, telling my arms and legs to move. But when I glance back, Leander’s sitting on the deck, one hand pressed against the satchel that holds his family’s journal, and I realize this isn’t just fear and horror. He’s spent, beyond exhausted by the magic he’s worked to try and save us all.
I grab his arm, pulling, and slowly he shuffles around after me until I can position him in the gap between theLittle Lizabettaand the railing. There, he leans back against the sun-warmed wood, his eyes closed, lifting the satchel to hug it against his chest.
