Page 41 of Valour

Hester opened her eyes and blinked.

“Hello, Captain,” Fliss whispered, her face inches from Hester’s, her eyes shining with tears.

Hester’s face split into a grin, and she wrapped her arms around her first mate’s neck, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Hello, mate.”

“You gave us quite a scare,” Fliss muttered into Hester’s hair.

“You know me,” she chuckled. “I like to keep you all on your toes.”

Fliss breathed a laugh and hugged Hester tighter. “Let’s get you back home.”

14

IN WHICH THERE IS A SHANTY AND A VOW

Hester walked out onto the deck of the Intrepid, supported on either side by Fliss and Rufus, the Intrepid’s crew lining the deck to bid her farewell. Sooty, Septimus’s black wolfhound, almost tripped her over a few times, winding through her legs and licking her hands. She couldn’t fathom how such a sour man could have raised such a sweet dog. Sooty hadn’t left Hester’s side while she’d rested in bed.

Victor was absent, though she quickly pushed all thoughts of him aside. He was not worth the energy.

Septimus stood by the rope ladder that led down to the lifeboat. “You still plan on journeying to Vahsel Bay?”

“Of course,” Hester said, puffing out her chest. “A little drowning wouldn’t prevent me from beating you, Septimus.”

Septimus rolled his eyes. “It was barely worth asking, was it?”

“No,” she said, a smug smile creeping over her face. Barring this little mishap, she was having the time of her life. No other expedition compared to it. There was no way she was giving up now.

Rufus climbed down into the lifeboat first, then Hester, though her arms felt weak and sore, and finally Fliss. Hester sat in the bow as Rufus and Fliss pulled at the oars, and the boat drifted away. The Intrepid’s crew were waving, and Septimus stood a little way back. He inclined his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and a peace settled in Hester’s heart. She sat upright, startled, and then threw him a wink and a salute. She couldn’t be going soft on him. Especially if she planned on beating him.

It wasn’t far to the Valour, and as they approached, the crew cheered raucously from the deck. Ah, her crew, her dearest friends. She sniffed and tried to stop her lower lip from wobbling.

The lifeboat bounced against the hull, and Hester climbed the ladder, her muscles screaming at her. As she neared the last few feet, Winston reached down to grab her, hoisting her up. She fell into his arms, her knees nearly buckling as her feet hit the deck, and Winston scooped her up, carrying her like a baby down below decks and to her cabin, the others following. She buried her face in his chest so no one would see the tears that spilled, and by the time he set her on the bed, she had composed herself.

“What on God’s green Earth did you all do to your hair?” Hester asked, chuckling as she surveyed the crew crowding into the cabin.

“There may have been a…small party to celebrate your return to life,” Winston said, sitting on the bed next to her. “Things may have gotten out of hand.”

“Peggy gave us all Hester haircuts,” Charlotte said, her hands clasped in front of her, her smile so wide that her cheeks bore dimples. “Well, obviously not the men. For some reason they just decided on cutting it all off. You know what men are like.”

Hester snorted, then scowled. A party? Without her? “I cannot believe you had such a fine time without me.”

“Once you’re fully recovered we’ll have another. Though we may have to start adding more water to the rum,” Betty said. “We made a rather large dent in the stocks.”

Hester rolled her eyes. As if drowning wasn’t bad enough.

Charlotte came to her bedside and bent to kiss her cheek. “I thought you should see this.” She pulled out a small book titled Myths and Legends of Shape-Shifting Animals and opened the page to one that read ‘Devil’, showing an orca. “Do you think this could be the orca that tried to eat you?”

Hester frowned at the picture. “I suppose it could be?” She took the book from Charlotte and flipped through the pages, stopping on the one with the winged man and staring. ‘Aquiline’. She shifted her shoulder blades. The winged woman she had seen. The wings on her own back. Angel or…this?

“We made a song about your heroics,” Mei said, and Hester tore her eyes from the picture and beheld the coy smile of her cook.

Now, this was more like it. “No,” Hester breathed, delight dancing in her eyes. “A song? About me?” She handed the book back to Charlotte.

“We’ll play it later,” Mei said.

“Oh, no. Now. I want to hear it!”

“Charlotte wrote the words,” Valerie said, clapping Charlotte on the shoulder.