Beneath the Surface

Knigh’s stomach dropped, and he threw open the door. Vee sprung after, tea forgotten.

Frowning, he called over his shoulder, “Vee, you can’t—”

“What have I told you about telling me what I can’t do?”

He huffed through his nose, running for the companionway. No time to argue, even if she was wrong.

If a sailor had fallen overboard, he’d be left behind in the darkness, floating on an endless ocean for cold or sea or creatures to snuff out. The only hope was to halt the ship as quickly as possible and send a swimmer or boat back.

But in the dark …

Legs pumping, Knigh took the steps two at a time.

Problem was, most sailors couldn’t swim.

“Llyr!” The shouts were louder. Llyr was one of the younger apprentices, a cheerful boy of fifteen with a keen eye.

Other cabin doors thudded open. Vee’s breaths huffed behind him. She was too weakened for this. If she exhausted herself, she could get ill again.

To aft, men clustered on the quarterdeck with lanterns. To fore, there was movement and the scrape and squeak of wood and metal—they were launching the ship’s boat.

“Heave!” Beyond the common room skylight, men braced the main mast, readying the ship to heave to.

Vee could halt it quicker, but …

He paused at the base of the quarterdeck steps and turned to the companionway as Vee emerged. Breaths heavy, she leant on the skylight.

“We need to stop.” Just saying it tightened his throat. She hadn’t been able to use her gift since Portsmouth, but if they didn’t reach Llyr, the boy would die.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded and clenched her jaw. “I—I can do it.” Another inhale and she closed her eyes, a frown running dark lines between her brows.

Something in the air changed. Maybe the pressure, maybe the wind, but it made his ears pop, like diving at the reef had.

The ship drew to a halt and shouts of surprise came from the men working the lines.

Face tense with concentration, Vee nodded. “I’ve got it.”

Torn between running to the quarterdeck and keeping an eye on her, Knigh started up the steps, constantly glancing between her and the lanterns raised over the stern.

When they reached the crowd searching over the rail, his muscles were thrumming with pent-up energy and she had paled a few shades.

“Llyr!” The cry went over and over. No response.

The sea was black and glinting like spilt ink. The night sky was lighter, spattered with a spray of stars, twinkling and serene despite the calamity playing out on the Swallow.