A Respite From Storms Read online

  The wet was rising to his ankles now.

  How the hold fared, he dreaded to think.

  The damned scourge—and these damned people, with their superstitions and cages. If the beast had just been allowed to stay with him and Alixa, Alixa would never have gone charging off … and he wouldn’t be charging off after her.

  He forced himself back into motion again. For now, the water was not deep enough to drag on his legs, but he’d need to make haste, the way it kept rising.

  Around the next corner, and the stairs leading down were in sight. No Alixa, though.

  “Alixa!” he shouted—

  The ship rocked again, groaning under the surging sea hitting against it—

  From out of one of the side corridors lurched—something. Jasen barely had time to brace—

  Hands grabbed him from behind, pulling him clear.

  A crate crashed to ground. Half the size of Jasen, it landed on an edge. The noise was like the crack of a whip. The impact threw up its own wave, soaking Jasen with a frigid spray. The crate did not buckle or split, falling heavily onto a side and stilling.

  “What’re yeh doin’?”

  Kuura had him. Jasen turned to see the man, who gripped him fiercely. His madman’s leer was gone. His eyes bulged, mouth twisted down haggardly.

  “Alixa,” Jasen began—

  “That crate could’ve crushed yeh!”

  “My cousin is down there!”

  Kuura stared. “What?”

  “Alixa went down to get Scourgey.”

  “Yer—Jasen, that’s madness. The hold—the cages aren’t all secured, and any water fillin’ this deck, it’ll run down to the bottom—”

  “I need to get to her,” Jasen said, and broke free.

  “Jasen, wait!” Kuura called.

  But Jasen was already over the crate that had nearly knocked him through death’s doorway. He leapt over, landing with a splash, then sprinted for the stairway.

  Kuura was after him. “It’s not safe!” The ship shuddered again. A door swung open, impacting hard against the wall as the hinges let it travel a full hundred and eighty degrees around. Jasen braced on the opposite wall—

  The cabin was a mess. The bed had splintered. A trunk lay on its side, contents spilled into the water.

  Dark liquid sluiced from under the porthole.

  All the more reason to hurry to Alixa.

  Jasen regained his footing and hurtled for the stairs. He mounted them—water was flooding down them like a miniature waterfall in a stream—and sprinted down—

  “Jasen!” Kuura called from just a couple of paces behind—close, but not close enough to grab Jasen’s shoulder.

  He turned at the landing halfway up, looked down—

  Jasen’s fear that the Lady Vizola would come apart was replaced by another as he stepped foot into the hold. Seawater had flooded in from some burst seam in the hull. Already it came up to Jasen’s knees—and still it rose.

  The ship would not break. No, it would fill, and then sink to the bottom of the ocean—taking him and Alixa and everyone else with it.

  “Can’t you do something?” he asked Kuura as he joined him on the stair.

  “Men are patching holes as we speak!” he answered. “Now come to safety before—”

  Another furious crash rocked the ship. The world turned sideways. Jasen, still on the stairs, was shunted off. His head rebounded from the ceiling. Stars erupted—then were doused as he landed headfirst in the icy water filling the hold.

  Kuura fared better, somehow. When Jasen spluttered into the air once more, Burund’s first mate was pressed low to the steps, gripping them with one hand. He had a pained look on his face.

  Jasen had no time to see if he was okay. Alixa was somewhere down here—and the cages were not as secure as Jasen had thought. The aisles carved through them were a mess where they’d shifted. Where the ship was thrust to the side over and over, the water coming to Jasen’s knees was whipped into a frenzy. It rose and fell in mad waves that came from all directions, meeting and cancelling each other out, or joining and building in the small space, washing over entire cages.

  Animals squealed madly, cries only adding to the relentless churn and the ship’s near-ceaseless groaning. Those that could clawed at their cages, using human-like hands or strong clawed paws to hold themselves as high to the top as they could manage.

  The animals in the smaller cages would have been long drowned by now.

  They were not Jasen’s concern. “Alixa!” he shouted.

  Her voice came back, panicked and shrill: “Help!”

  He bolted after her before even knowing where the cry had come from. Shoving cages aside, he forced his way forward. The water pushed at him in all directions, yet still seeming to drag him backward with every step. It was so terribly cold, his flesh broke out in goosebumps. No winter had felt like this in Terreas.

  The impact of another wave shoved two cages hard into Jasen’s body. He stumbled, almost landing on one knee.

  The long-armed thing obsessed with the sow occupied one. It screeched, reaching out and clutching to Jasen.

  “Let—go!” he wheezed, prying its hands loose.

  It screeched at him in reply, holding tighter. It had claws, and as Jasen pried a finger loose, it readjusted, dragging them along his skin painfully.

  “Get off!”

  “Jasen!” Alixa cried, from somewhere out of sight.

  “I’m—coming! Would you just get—off!”

  Kuura appeared. He wrapped the creature’s arm in one fist, then pulled—hard. It screeched again, baring fangs—but its hands were loose, and Jasen was free to move again, to find Alixa—

  Kuura shoved the animal back and pushed its cage away, letting the water take it back toward its original resting place. He cast Jasen a manic look. “Yeh’re mad,” he said. “Both of you.”

  “My cousin—”

  “Come on,” Kuura grunted. “But then we’re gettin’ yeh out of here.”

  He forced the way ahead, shoving cages aside. When another wave rolled the boat sideways, he snatched out for Jasen’s arm. His fingers were calloused and dug hard into the skin beneath his armpit. But it stopped Jasen from going sideways and getting soaked again.

  The aisle had been vanquished entirely toward the rear of the hold. Kuura muscled through. Fortunately these cages were smaller, or empty. The cage with the cow, two down from Scourgey, was weighed down enough not to have moved—yet.

  Alixa was fighting with the door to Scourgey’s cage. Soaked through, her hair plastered to her body, she had a wild, deranged look about her. Her fingers clawed at the bolt.

  It would not move.

  “Please!” she cried to Jasen, Kuura. “Let her out!”

  Scourgey was pressed as close to the front of the cage as she could manage. Her nose stuck out of a hole. Mouth wide open, she made a ceaseless, keening whine, rising in pitch every time a wave rushed in.

  The water rose to her haunches. Heavier waves churned by the Lady Vizola’s shifting were enough to reach her chest.

  “The men won’t like your beast out,” Kuura said. “They already think it brought this upon them!”

  “Scourgey is safe!” cried Alixa. “She wouldn’t hurt anyone! And we haven’t died!”

  “The storm—”Another wave rocked the boat sideways. Jasen stumbled; Kuura held firm. Alixa kept herself upright with clawed hands around Scourgey’s cage.

  Scourgey seemed to scream.

  “Please!” Alixa cried. “She’ll drown!”

  “So will we!” Kuura roared back.

  “Then let her out of here!”

  Kuura sighed, a gruff, unfriendly noise that didn’t seem anything like him. He pushed Jasen aside with one big paw, Alixa too—and then he worked Scourgey’s lock with hard fingers.

  For a few seconds, it was stuck—

  Then it burst open.

  The door flew apart—and Scourgey lurched out, shrieking madly.

 
Alixa wrapped her arms around the scourge’s neck. “I’ve got you!”

  Kuura clamped a hand on her other arm, by the shoulder. “And I’ve got you. Now get out of here, both of you!”

  “The other animals—”

  “You got the one yeh wanted! I’m not freeing anymore! Now follow!”

  And he forced his way back across the hold, dragging Jasen and Alixa, who in turn dragged Scourgey. She fought, seeming not to understand that safety lay ahead. But with Kuura pulling her, Alixa had no choice but to tug on Scourgey harder than she would’ve otherwise, and the scourge had to move across the deck.

  Kuura didn’t stop on the stairs to the next deck, instead dragging them round to mount the next flight.

  “Where are we going?” Jasen asked.

  “Top deck,” Kuura grunted.

  “But—why—the storm—”

  “Just follow, would yeh?”

  They rose and rose. The deck directly below the Lady Vizola’s topside, the largely empty one with those strange metal contraptions, was driest. Men were shoving the metal things back on runners, and checking the seals on the holes aligned with them.

  Into the short top deck—through the door—

  Jasen stopped dead.

  The noise was calamitous.

  Sheeting rain fell. It came almost horizontally, and hit Jasen so hard he recoiled. It was like being stung by wasps, over and over and over.

  Men worked furiously on the deck. Shipmaster Burund was yelling to them, but a shrill wind blew through, obscuring his words. He was shouting commands, surely; and between him and the dozen or so men on the deck, they fought with the sails on each of the three masts—perhaps for control, perhaps to steer them out of this nightmare somewhere.

  And it was a nightmare. The sky and sea were almost equally wild and dark.

  But most terrible of all was—

  CRACK!

  That noise broke through it all: a lightning strike, so close to the ship that Jasen could almost have touched it. Instead of forking through the sky, it connected directly from stormcloud to rioting seawaters, in a long line.

  A long, bright green line.

  Jasen stared in horror.

  Another bolt rent the air in two, red, like the flowers of a budding rose. It left a dazzling after-image on Jasen’s retinas.

  “What’s happening?” he cried.

  “Hell if I know,” Kuura answered. “Come on!” He dragged Jasen and Alixa along the deck, Scourgey following in their wake. If she was whimpering now—and surely she was—the noise was inseparable from the wail of the wind.

  Burund gave them nary a look as they passed.

  The men, however, cast eyes their way, their faces hardening at the sight of Scourgey.

  A bolt of vibrant blue lightning arced from the heavens. It exploded on the water no more than five hundred feet distant.

  Jasen ducked.

  Burund’s shouting intensified, vying for volume with, and briefly overpowering, the wind.

  The men tugged their attention from Scourgey and pulled the sails, which billowed and tilted sideways on their vertical axis.

  “What are they doing?” Jasen asked.

  “Shipmaster is bringing her around!” Kuura shouted back. His words were barely audible in the whipping gale. The elaborate folds of fabric that set him apart from his crewmates caught it and filled, like the sails, making him look misshapen and much larger than usual. If a gust blew strongly enough, surely it would carry him with it, dumping him somewhere in the whorls.

  Jasen had no time to think of anyone’s safety but his own and Alixa’s. If Kuura was snatched, so be it.

  Kuura led them to one of the stubby top decks. A ladder was built alongside it. “Up!”

  Jasen hesitated. “Why—”

  “Get up there!” To Alixa: “Follow your cousin! I’ll bring your bloody dog!”

  Jasen clambered. The steps were slick.

  Alixa followed. Then came Kuura, Scourgey slung over a shoulder.

  “Stand against it,” Kuura ordered, pointing at the mast, “both of you.”

  Jasen stared. Rain came slanting down, stinging his eyes.

  “But what—” Jasen began.

  “Just do it! Quick, now! Yeh want a wave to wash yeh away?”

  Jasen looked to Kuura, panicked.

  “Yeh’ll be safe,” Kuura promised. “I’ll secure you. Just do it, would yeh?”

  There was desperation in his words—and another rolling wave crashed against the ship, canting it over. Jasen stumbled; Kuura caught him before he spilled over the edge.

  Foam had spilled over the main deck. It sloshed about the feet of the men down below.

  A bigger one might come at any moment—and, like Kuura said, could wrench them from the deck and cast them into the waters.

  He’d drown.

  “I promise,” Kuura said, “yeh’ll be safe.”

  Alixa moved for him. Clutching Jasen’s wrist, she said, “Come on.” Her eyes blazed, wide with fear—but with the choice removed from him, an external force pulling him forward, Jasen allowed his paralysis to leave him so that Kuura and Alixa could move him over, press his back against the mast.

  “Yours too,” he said to Alixa when Jasen was still.

  “Scourgey—”

  “I’ll secure her too,” Kuura said gruffly.

  The words came to Jasen from a great distance—as did, some seconds later, the feel of Kuura wrapping a cord of rope around and around his midriff, pulling it tighter, tighter … He was barely aware of any of it. All he saw was the rain, pelting him, stinging his skin like thousands of angry wasps; and the lightning, ripping the sky open in unnatural pulses of fantastic, terrifying color. Bright green—blue—yellow—it strobed madly, breathing life into fresh waves that assaulted the Lady Vizola.

  “Stay,” said Kuura. He’d finished, apparently—the rope was out of his hands, his circling complete, a knot tied—somewhere. And then, after another word which Jasen did not catch, he gave them a final look, and descended to the main deck.

  Purple lightning boomed. A faint smell like spent gunpowder wafted past on the wind, little more than a ghost as it was carried away.

  Alixa gripped Jasen’s wrist.

  She said something, but he wasn’t sure what. Not because her words had been overpowered; he surely should have heard them. His senses were just … shutting down. Overloaded past the point they could continue working, they had all just given up, leaving him a shaking, shivering mess—and afraid. Terribly afraid. Like a wave he’d kept at bay over the past days, as he ran from scourge, then saw Terreas buried in fire, then ran again; then this ship, and chasing Alixa, and seeing the storm, and climbing—

  It was all too much.

  He sat and stared.

  Alixa rubbed his wrist. Talking, talking.

  Jasen heard no words.

  But he saw the strikes as the heavens opened, again, and again, and again. Saw their colors: blue, green, yellow, pink, red, purple—

  Felt the rain. Felt the wind.

  Felt the sway of the Lady Vizola as waves displaced it, and the foremast canted, Jasen and Alixa and Scourgey lashed firmly to it but tilting all the same, toward an ocean that was black as the throat of a beast, and just as ready to swallow them.

  For hours, it went on, and on, and on.

  And Jasen shook.

  6

  Dawn came.

  Jasen and Alixa lay at the bottom of the foremast, still lashed to it by Kuura’s rope round their middles. Only in the early hours had the storm receded, the sea quieting. Yet still thundercracks cleaved the air for hours, striking the surface of the water. Each bright bolt seemed to set off a new barrage of waves, radiating out from the impact point like ripples from a stone. They buffeted the Lady Vizola for ten, twenty minutes, until slowly giving over to calmness.

  Eventually, Jasen and Alixa fell into a muddled sleep.

  They were woken by Kuura’s voice.

  “Yeh survived,
then.”

  Jasen cracked his eyelids.

  Kuura filled his vision.

  Behind him, the sky was cloudless and blue..

  Jasen squinted, frowning.

  Kuura laughed heartily. “Wond’ring how the sun could ever shine again after that? Trust me, boy: see it enough times and yeh won’t question it, yeh’ll just thank your gods that yeh made it through. Right then—both of yeh in one piece?” He gave them a cursory look over. “Well, are yeh? I’m not Medleigh—I need confirmation.”

  “I think so,” said Alixa weakly.

  Jasen wasn’t so sure. His insides felt as though they’d been rattled to pieces. Kuura was looking at him for an answer though, so he ceded with a nod.

  “Good. Let’s get you out then.”

  He untied them. The knot was a tangled mess, and Jasen was not convinced he would be able to pry it open at first. When he suggested a knife, after a solid minute and no discernible progress he could make out as Kuura’s fingers worked, he was answered with a laugh. “Yeh think we c’n afford to cut our ropes when we can’t be bothered untying them? Where’s this limitless supply space yeh’ve found on this ship then, Jasen? Shipmaster’ll be pleased to hear about it.”

  The rope loosened, fell away.

  It was like a weight had been pressing down on him. He hadn’t realized just how constricted his lungs felt. Now, he sucked in a full breath. The saltwater air felt revitalizing.

  It also hurt. Confined for so many hours, his body flailing against his bonds, his entire midriff must now bear a belt of bruises.

  “Right,” said Kuura when Scourgey was finally released. “Burund would like to speak to yeh.”

  Alixa cast Jasen a nervous look. “About what?” she asked.

  “Speak to him an’ see.”

  The shipmaster was on deck, as were a number of other men, most of whom were taming the sails or—from what Jasen could glimpse—assessing damage. As for the rest of the hands, Jasen could only assume they were inside the Lady Vizola. The alternative was that they had gone overboard during the night—not a very pleasant possible outcome, even for Hamisi and company.

  The first steps were difficult. Jasen’s body seemed to have forgotten how it worked overnight. Alixa stumbled too.

  Scourgey wouldn’t move. She just quivered at the foremast’s base. Her eyes were unreadable for their perfect blackness. If they were, Jasen was sure he’d see her staring off into infinity.