Page 48 of The Isles of the Gods
“That’s exactly why we have to hurry,” she says, hardening her tone. “We won’t last long in a shore boat like this—no food, no water, no shelter, no sail. We can use an oar for a mast—it’s designed to fit into that bench in the center in an emergency—but we’ll need to salvage a piece of theLizabetta’s sails before they burn, and get some supplies from the ship.”
Leander was staring at the horizon—now he looks at her, blinking slowly. “What?”
She shoots him the same look a thousand teachers did back at school. “What were you planning on doing?” she asks, exasperated. “Just floating around out here?” She jerks her chin toward theLizabetta.The fire is growing quickly now, and the ship is listing hard to the right, her deck on a dangerous slope. “A ship like her won’t usually sink, she’ll just burn down to the waterline. The hull’s too thick. But a bunch of cannonballs hit her, and if the masts fall to leeward, they could tug her over onto her side completely. I think she’s going all the way under, so we need to get what we can first.”
“And then?” Leander murmurs.
She leans on her oars, regarding us each in turn. “And then we follow my captain’s last orders,” she says simply. “We survive.”
LEANDER
TheLittle Lizabetta
The Crescent Sea
The ship towers above us as we draw in close, and I can feel the heat of the flames on my face.
Selly ships her oars as the gentle waves carry us up beside theLizabetta,turning to regard her burning home. Her blond hair is plastered around her face in a wet curtain, and she’s white as a sheet, even her freckles pale.
She’s always had pink in her cheeks, the touch of the wind and sun, but just now she seems almost translucent. As if she could keep on fading, and simply disappear.
She hasn’t stopped since we hit the water, green eyes narrowed in determination, moving ruthlessly to the next step of her plan, and then the next. But for an instant as she gazes up at the ship, I catch a glimpse of what’s behind that purpose, behind her crisp orders. I see the way she presses her lips together hard, making sure they don’t tremble.
“First things first, Prince,” she says, her voice steady. “Can you help with that fire?”
I draw a shaky breath, and make myself nod. The truth is, I’ve already charmed more spirits today than I’ve ever comecloseto before, and most of it without anything to sacrifice. I’m not sure what part of myself I gave them in return for their help, but I felt something bleeding away. And I’m not sure how much I have left in me before I simply pass out, or worse. My arms and legs are shaky, my head aching.
But all of this is my fault, and whatever I have left, it’s owed to others.
I dig in my pocket for something to sacrifice, and find a copper coin. Usually it would be nothing. Now I’m pretty sure it’s all the money we have—and that means it’s everything. That’s what the spirits care about—how muchyouthink it’s worth.
My hand is cold, but I curl my fingers around it and draw back my arm, then send it arcing toward the deck, where it disappears midair, snapping out of existence somewhere above the flames as the spirits claim it.
Then I shift my focus until I can see the fire spirits dancing around the flames, playing with glee. Immediately they invite me in, and their presence is warm and tempting. Fire spirits are like the friend you know is a bad influence, but who’s always a whole lot of fun—before you end up in a whole lot of trouble.
So I suppose fire spirits are to me what I am to other people.
They’re the most dangerous of all the spirits, and around them I’m always half a bad idea away from letting them off the leash, to soar out and consume everything around us. They have a way of convincing you it would be a great time for everyone.
But I join their dangerous dance, and as I lay on the charm, they slowly part, leaving a clear way up onto the boat, the charred wood still smoking gently. Time for us to go aboard.
“Can you swim one more time?” Selly asks, sizing up Wollesley and me in turn. We each nod, no doubt both lying about how confident we are. He was treading water a long time and looks like a drowned noodle. I’m aching deep in my bones.
Together we all slip over the side, swimming and splashing the short distance to the ship. We use the broken and splintered wood from one of the cannonball wounds as a ladder, and as Selly climbs ahead of me, her soaking wet clothes stream water onto my head and cling to her body, weighing her down.
It’s a sobering reminder that we’re wet, and night is coming. The sky is already a velvety blue to the east, an angry orange to the west, toward Mellacea.
She scrambles over the railing, then turns to pull me up, and together we grip Wollesley’s hands and haul him after us. He’s been in the water longest of all, and he’s shivering.
Up on the deck the light is brighter—the flames dance and flicker, lighting our way, though it’s hard to see into the darkness beyond them. The ship herself is a wreck, tilting toward us. Farther along the deck I can see the crew’s bodies, already alight.
Selly sees them too, and she stops in place, staring, lifting one hand to press it to her mouth. A shudder goes through her.
I killed them.
If they hadn’t taken me aboard…
Selly tries to muffle the sound she makes, and tentatively I reach out to squeeze her shoulder. Silent witness is all I can offer her, and it’s so desperately not enough. I’m not even sureI should touch her—though I held her in my arms while they were shot, this feels different. But she lifts her hand and presses it over mine.
