The Sea is Deep
Aug. 27th, 2017 17:50![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
booksabakingA long while back I joined Inkitt and posted this story there. Inkitt turned out to be far too much + weirdly designed (you can't even delete your own account!) so I've chosen to move this story here. My first attempt at a non-fanfiction short story, so I'm not overly happy with it, but I'm not going to delete it either :)
The crash shook the ship, making every board creak and groan with strain. Nadina huddled closer to the barrels she’d hidden behind, kept a firm grip on her compass, and prayed. She wasn’t exactly sure who she was praying to. Her people had never had a god of the sea or for sailing. It seemed a waste of perfectly good gods when your people had lived most of their lives in a landlocked desert.
Above deck she could hear shouting and the trampling of boots. The general noise of the crew didn’t sound much different from the other sixteen days she’d listened to it, yet she now felt the need to pay close attention. Something had changed, and it wasn’t just the fog outside.
The fog was thick -- pea soup mist as Mary’s grandmother would have called it -- and it engulfed the entire fleet like a blanket. Nadina could barely make out the silhouette of the closest ship through the porthole. The fog had swept in on the wind at dawn and made the sun a mere shadow; its faint light made the fog seem like a curtain drawn across a bedroom window.
Nadina wished she was back in her own bedroom. But if wishes were horses and all that. She shook her head at herself and sat back down, her back to the wall. Her legs ached, her back ached, her stomach growled, and she was more homesick than she’d ever been. The fog was just the final drop. She’d scream soon, she knew it. She’d scream and they’d find her, no matter how well Mary had stacked the boxes and barrels.
A pair of footsteps separated from the crowd on the upper deck and began walking down the stairs, down the corridors, down through the mess hall. Nadina sat still as a statue and listened, counting the steps.
The door to the cargo hold creaked both when it was opened and when it was pushed shut. The steps walked deeper into the room, toward the boxes and barrels. The faint light from a candle flame broke through the dark. “Nadina?”
“I’m here,” Nadina answered, not getting up. “Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?”
The brown mop of Mary’s hair made an appearance as the girl in question pushed aside a barrel. The hair was followed by her freckled face. She was smiling. Always smiling. It annoyed Nadina. That apologetic smile made it next to impossible to be mad at her, even for a moment.
“Sorry about that,” Mary said as she climbed over the barrels and into the boxed off square that was Nadina’s current place of residence. “We’re only three days from the islands now. Please hold out a bit longer.”
Nadina sighed and made herself smile. It wasn’t hard when she was looking at Mary. “I’m sorry, I’m just bored. I’ve won ever single chess game I’ve played against myself thus far and I’ve run out of stories to tell myself.”
Mary put down the bucket she’d been carrying and pulled Nadina into a hug. They both stunk of sweat and Mary smelled like fish and the salt of the sea. Nadina didn’t pull back. Instead she buried her face in the other girl’s neck and drew in a deep breath through her nose.
Mary giggled. “That tickles!”
“Are you sure no one followed you?”
She could almost feel Mary roll her eyes. “Has anyone followed me the last thirty times I’ve been down here?”
“I didn’t mean to imply that you’re clumsy,” Nadina said. “It’s just good to keep you on your toes.”
“That’s why I like having you around,” Mary said, squirming out of the embrace, careful not to elbow Nadina. “Wouldn’t want to slack off and get myself arrested.”
“Don’t even joke about that,” Nadina said, but there was no anger or scolding to her words. “Now, what delicious breakfast did you bring me?”
Mary put down the bucket she’d been holding next to the blanket covered one in the left corner. She then stuck a hand into one of her pockets and produced a handful of scones.
“Surprise! I managed to sweet-talk the chef into giving me the remains of the captain’s afternoon tea from yesterday. They might be a bit stale, but they’re completely maggot free and not too dry yet.”
Nadina cupped her hands and let Mary pour the scones into them, smiling all the while. “Thank you,” Nadina said, stowing away the morsels in various pockets upon her person. “You on latrine duty again?”
“Best way to get left alone,” Mary said. “And it makes emptying your bucket ever so much easier.”
“You’d think they’d get suspicious with you volunteering for such an unpleasant task over and over,” Nadina said. She licked the crumbs of the scones from her palms before she helped Mary lift the stinking bucket over the boxes.
“I’m at least as clever as you,” Mary said. “I’ve been faking vertigo from day one. I trade every assignment in the crow’s nest for latrine duty, deck scrubbing, you name it. You’d be surprised how quick my dear crew mates were to gang up on me. I have crow’s nest duty every other day now.”
“Sounds like you’re working hard.”
Mary leaned their foreheads together and wrapped her arms around Nadina’s shoulders. “Not as hard as you. And what do we always do?”
“We always do the right thing at the right time,” Nadina said, the words old and worn but comfortable, like a pair of good walking boots.
“We always do the right thing at the right time,” Mary echoed and hugged her tighter. “Have I told you how amazing you are for putting up with this? If it was me you know I would have been barking mad after the first week.”
Nadina chuckled. “Flatterer.”
“For you, always,” Mary said. “Just hope my flattery doesn’t get me in trouble.”
“We’re both too clever for that,” Nadina said, believing each word. “Now go play good sailor to that sandstorm of a captain you’ve got. I’ll be fine.”
Mary gave her one last, long look before she nodded, grabbed the blanket covered bucket and left.
Nadina sat back down on the floor, steeling herself against the ensuing darkness. She pulled free a bottle of water from its hiding place inside a broken box and took a gulp. There were only three bottles left. She did her best to push her thoughts elsewhere. If the winds stopped favoring them they’d think of something; she and Mary always did. After all, they’d come up with this brilliant plan, hadn’t they?
Nadina’s father had always told her to hide where the enemy would least expect it. What could be less expected than one of their warships?
Above deck she could hear shouting and the trampling of boots. The general noise of the crew didn’t sound much different from the other sixteen days she’d listened to it, yet she now felt the need to pay close attention. Something had changed, and it wasn’t just the fog outside.
The fog was thick -- pea soup mist as Mary’s grandmother would have called it -- and it engulfed the entire fleet like a blanket. Nadina could barely make out the silhouette of the closest ship through the porthole. The fog had swept in on the wind at dawn and made the sun a mere shadow; its faint light made the fog seem like a curtain drawn across a bedroom window.
Nadina wished she was back in her own bedroom. But if wishes were horses and all that. She shook her head at herself and sat back down, her back to the wall. Her legs ached, her back ached, her stomach growled, and she was more homesick than she’d ever been. The fog was just the final drop. She’d scream soon, she knew it. She’d scream and they’d find her, no matter how well Mary had stacked the boxes and barrels.
A pair of footsteps separated from the crowd on the upper deck and began walking down the stairs, down the corridors, down through the mess hall. Nadina sat still as a statue and listened, counting the steps.
The door to the cargo hold creaked both when it was opened and when it was pushed shut. The steps walked deeper into the room, toward the boxes and barrels. The faint light from a candle flame broke through the dark. “Nadina?”
“I’m here,” Nadina answered, not getting up. “Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?”
The brown mop of Mary’s hair made an appearance as the girl in question pushed aside a barrel. The hair was followed by her freckled face. She was smiling. Always smiling. It annoyed Nadina. That apologetic smile made it next to impossible to be mad at her, even for a moment.
“Sorry about that,” Mary said as she climbed over the barrels and into the boxed off square that was Nadina’s current place of residence. “We’re only three days from the islands now. Please hold out a bit longer.”
Nadina sighed and made herself smile. It wasn’t hard when she was looking at Mary. “I’m sorry, I’m just bored. I’ve won ever single chess game I’ve played against myself thus far and I’ve run out of stories to tell myself.”
Mary put down the bucket she’d been carrying and pulled Nadina into a hug. They both stunk of sweat and Mary smelled like fish and the salt of the sea. Nadina didn’t pull back. Instead she buried her face in the other girl’s neck and drew in a deep breath through her nose.
Mary giggled. “That tickles!”
“Are you sure no one followed you?”
She could almost feel Mary roll her eyes. “Has anyone followed me the last thirty times I’ve been down here?”
“I didn’t mean to imply that you’re clumsy,” Nadina said. “It’s just good to keep you on your toes.”
“That’s why I like having you around,” Mary said, squirming out of the embrace, careful not to elbow Nadina. “Wouldn’t want to slack off and get myself arrested.”
“Don’t even joke about that,” Nadina said, but there was no anger or scolding to her words. “Now, what delicious breakfast did you bring me?”
Mary put down the bucket she’d been holding next to the blanket covered one in the left corner. She then stuck a hand into one of her pockets and produced a handful of scones.
“Surprise! I managed to sweet-talk the chef into giving me the remains of the captain’s afternoon tea from yesterday. They might be a bit stale, but they’re completely maggot free and not too dry yet.”
Nadina cupped her hands and let Mary pour the scones into them, smiling all the while. “Thank you,” Nadina said, stowing away the morsels in various pockets upon her person. “You on latrine duty again?”
“Best way to get left alone,” Mary said. “And it makes emptying your bucket ever so much easier.”
“You’d think they’d get suspicious with you volunteering for such an unpleasant task over and over,” Nadina said. She licked the crumbs of the scones from her palms before she helped Mary lift the stinking bucket over the boxes.
“I’m at least as clever as you,” Mary said. “I’ve been faking vertigo from day one. I trade every assignment in the crow’s nest for latrine duty, deck scrubbing, you name it. You’d be surprised how quick my dear crew mates were to gang up on me. I have crow’s nest duty every other day now.”
“Sounds like you’re working hard.”
Mary leaned their foreheads together and wrapped her arms around Nadina’s shoulders. “Not as hard as you. And what do we always do?”
“We always do the right thing at the right time,” Nadina said, the words old and worn but comfortable, like a pair of good walking boots.
“We always do the right thing at the right time,” Mary echoed and hugged her tighter. “Have I told you how amazing you are for putting up with this? If it was me you know I would have been barking mad after the first week.”
Nadina chuckled. “Flatterer.”
“For you, always,” Mary said. “Just hope my flattery doesn’t get me in trouble.”
“We’re both too clever for that,” Nadina said, believing each word. “Now go play good sailor to that sandstorm of a captain you’ve got. I’ll be fine.”
Mary gave her one last, long look before she nodded, grabbed the blanket covered bucket and left.
Nadina sat back down on the floor, steeling herself against the ensuing darkness. She pulled free a bottle of water from its hiding place inside a broken box and took a gulp. There were only three bottles left. She did her best to push her thoughts elsewhere. If the winds stopped favoring them they’d think of something; she and Mary always did. After all, they’d come up with this brilliant plan, hadn’t they?
Nadina’s father had always told her to hide where the enemy would least expect it. What could be less expected than one of their warships?
****
“You sure it’s in here?”
The voice woke Nadina. She rolled over, landed on all fours and rose up on the tips of her fingers and toes, knees and elbows bent. Keeping low she made her way over to the cracks between the barrels.
“Nicholas said it was,” a second voice answered the first. Nadina tilted her head to the left and caught sight of two pairs of legs right by the door.
“Better hop to it then,” the first voice said. The second one grumbled something, but they both began to move about the room.
Nadina held her breath. She calculated. She focused.
“Behind those barrels, do you think?”
Nadina edged closer to the barrels, until she was practically plastered to them. With practiced ease she held on to the barrels and folded out of the way as the two sailors stepped closer, not touching the floor once as she made her escape.
“It’s spooky, isn’t it?” the first voice said. A barrel cracked open, likely thanks to the voice’s owner. Nadina kept a close eye on the sailors as she stayed in their blind spot. She couldn’t get caught like this -- that would be a humiliating way to die.
“What?” the second voice said. Nadina hadn’t been able to place the first voice, but this one she knew. Eartha was one of the sailors that worked the mess hall often and seemed to be on good terms with Mary; she’d help her carry the buckets now and then, passing by the room where Nadina hid.
“Knowing our maps are wrong,” Eartha’s companion said. She’d begun to sort through the opened barrel, making small disappointed noises every time she pulled something out that wasn’t what she was looking for.
Nadina heard Eartha spit. “Don’t bring such talk below deck,” the woman said with the conviction of the truly superstitious. “I’ll not have you bring the same bad luck onto our ship.”
Her companion didn’t comment on this, only shrugged and kept on digging.
It took them three barrels more to find whatever it was they were looking for. Nadina kept well out of sight, bending and holding in place along the barrels as needed. It was quite the thrill, much different from being alone all day. But that she enjoyed the challenge so much left her face burning and her thoughts shied away from Mary; Mary who’d had to do far more dangerous dances in the past month.
“Odd that,” Eartha’s companion said as the two of them prepared to leave the room, “leaving a hole right in the middle there.”
“I wouldn’t mess with the captain’s packing,” Eartha said. “Probably like that for a reason.”
Nadina peaked out from between the barrels, safely back on the floor, her arms and legs aching from the punishing exercise. She caught Eartha’s companion shrugging again.
“You’re right,” the woman said. “Wouldn’t want to be blamed if one of the captain’s souvenirs got smashed.”
“The gods’ praise to that, friend.”
And like that, they were gone. Nadina let out the breath she’d been holding since she’d set herself back down on the floor. “If only you could have seen me now, love,” she whispered to herself, giddy and filled to the brim with adrenaline, all thoughts of shame swept aside. “Oh Mary, if only you could have seen me.”
Telling would have to do. She’d better keep herself from exaggerating, though the temptation was there. After all, you should always be true to those you loved.
“Do you remember that time your dad tripped and fell into the pond?”
Nadina frowned at the question and leaned her head back further, until the back of it was resting against the back of Mary’s. “Yes, why?”
She felt Mary shrug. “I don’t know. It just popped into my head. It was such a fun little mishap… I wish we had more of those now and less of,” out of the corner of her eye Nadina saw Mary wave her arms around, as if gesturing to the entire ship, “this.”
Nadina closed her eyes and gave a curt nod. She tried calling up a picture of her father -- his thick beard and wide smile, his belly shaking laugh and arms that gave such comforting hugs -- and found herself thinking of him as he’d looked that day. He’d been soaked from head to foot when he’d gotten out, sans one shoe and laughing like a loon. Her brother and older sister had given him a hand up and he’d bought them all a slice of watermelon for helping instead of teasing him.
“I miss home,” Nadina said, not caring that the statement was both obvious and unnecessary between them.
“I understand that.”
Nadina’s frown returned and she opened her eyes. Turning her head to the right, still resting it against Mary’s, she did her best to meet Mary’s gaze. “You don’t miss it?”
“…it wasn’t really my home to miss.”
Red tinted the edge of Nadina’s vision. The color came over her like rising water and she had to bite the inside of her cheek not to whirl around and shake Mary by the shoulders. “Don’t you dare say that!”
“Nadina…” Mary sounded deflated, as if her lungs were giving out little by little.
Blood seeped from the wound in Nadina’s cheek. She let her tongue sweep over the jagged cut her teeth had made, before saying: “You were born there. How could it not be your home?”
Mary made a small sound Nadina had no word for. She got up, leaving Nadina to either lean forward or tumble backward, and began to pace their square of privacy.
Nadina wrapped her arms around her knees and watched Mary pace, letting her mouth fill with the taste of blood.
“It’s just that I feel...I don’t know,” Mary paused, waving her arms about again, “like an impostor.”
There was a torrent of words at the back of Nadina’s throat, pushing to be let through. But she knew they would do no good. This wasn’t the time. So instead of speaking them, she let out: “Is this because we’ll be meeting up with them soon?”
Mary gave a chuckle with no joy behind it. “Maybe. I keep thinking… What if my mothers…”
Nadina pushed herself to her feet before Mary had time to find other words and pulled her into a hug. She pulled Mary’s head down to rest against her shoulder and whispered into her ear: “Your mothers are the only reason we all got out safe.” Ice brushed against the red she was seeing, fading it. “Or did they say something to you that’s given you doubts?”
Mary shook her head, her nose rubbing against Nadina’s shoulder. “No. No they wouldn’t. I’m being stupid.”
Outside the waves crashing against the hull stilled. The boots trampling the boards above them grew quieter, or maybe it was the soft thud of Mary’s heartbeat that muted them to Nadina’s ears.
“I hope they’re all right,” Nadina said, the faces of her siblings, her father, Mary’s mothers, and so many others flickering before her mind’s eye.
“Your dad is tough as nails. He’ll keep your family safe,” Mary said. “And my mums would never let something as petty as a war end them.”
Nadina nodded.
A great crash echoed through the ship. Nadina and Mary both jumped, digging their nails into each other’s arms and shoulders. The crash was follow by shouting and steps thundering back and forth. The two of them stared at the ceiling before meeting each other’s eyes.
“I think that’s my signal,” Mary said, forcing a smile. “A cannon must have gotten loose. I hope no one’s hurt.”
Nadina pulled her in for a last hug before letting go completely.
“Be ready,” Mary whispered and Nadina could feel her lips trembling. “The islands are close and the fog will give us cover. Rest and be ready to run east.”
“And swim,” Nadina said, matching her tone to Mary’s. One of her hands found its way to her compass again, brushing against its reassuring brass. “Don’t work yourself to death up there. I’ll have enough of a tough time swimming in this skirt without having to pull you along.”
“You won’t have to.” And with that, Mary left.
The creaking of breaking boards was deafening enough. The cannon fire did little to spare Nadina’s eardrums. She huddled in her corner and prayed.
“Gods of the desert, please spare my dear love,” she whispered to her folded hands. “I know the sea is not your seat of power, but Ytraka, Goddess of the Rain, please do all you can to save my dear Mary from whatever horrors awa--”
Another loud boom cut her prayer short. She clamped her hands over her ears and curled in on herself, fighting back tears. She would not die crying in a corner while Mary was out there fighting! But what choice do I have? Showing myself would only put her in more danger.
Nadina pushed herself against the wall and uncovered one ears long enough to hook an arm around a loose board in one of the boxes. The ship was rocking from side to side so harshly it felt like it were tumbling up and down steep hills. She eyed the boxes around her, taking in how they’d been secured to the floor and ceiling. The ropes looked sturdy, but sturdy enough?
The waves kept crashing against the ship as if against a shore during a bad storm. But outside there was only fog and more fog, no howling wind and no rain.
Nadina tried counting the time between the rocks of the ship, tried to count how many times she was thrown left and right, but there was no use. The falls were irregular, as if something large had the ship by the main mast and was shaking it. Nadina refused to cry, bit her lips and cheeks not to cry, pressed harder and harder at her ears not to cry, but in the end she had to.
Sobbing and shaking was the way Mary found her, an hour later.
“Nadina?” Mary’s voice said, drifting from the doorway.
Nadina uncurled her arm -- bleeding and bruised as it was -- from its secure hold on the damaged barrel and peaked through the cracks in the boxes. She didn’t bother to dry her tears. “Are you hurt?”
Mary shook her head. “Not badly.” She was favoring one leg as she walked.
Nadina frowned and stood, to better be able to scrutinize Mary’s leg. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I get to keep my limbs.” Mary was shaking from head to toe, as if she’d been dropped into a bath of ice water and only just dried off.
Nadina was quick to pull her into an embrace the moment she got within reach. “What happened up there? Were we attacked?”
“Yes, but we don’t know by what.” There were tear tracks in the sooth and dust on Mary’s cheeks. “I-it came out of nowhere, out of the fog. It rocked the entire ship!”
“Yes, I felt that,” Nadina said, smoothing down Mary’s hair in what she hoped was a calming manner. “How badly are we damaged?”
“Not at all, aside from a shaken crew,” Mary said, her words hollow. “But the Flight…”
Nadina wracked her brain for an association to that name. She felt as tender as a beaten steak and about as intelligent.
“The ship next to us?” she asked, hoping she’d guessed right. Mary had gone through the fleet’s formation on more than on occasion, but without visual feedback the names and descriptions did little to help Nadina memorize it.
Mary only nodded, burying her face in Nadina’s shoulder.
“How bad?” Nadina dared ask. Her shoulder was getting damp from Mary’s tears.
“It’s gone,” Mary whispered, her voice muffled against the fabric of Nadina’s dress. “It just disappeared.”
“Magic?” The thought was a frightening one. Witches and wizards were usually a friendly bunch, or the ones that had lived in Kantra had been. She’d seen a few make rabbits or birds vanish, only to reappear under a hat or in a basket. But an entire ship…
“No. No, it wasn’t magic,” Mary said and pushed at Nadina’s arms until she was let up. She then put her arms on Nadina’s shoulders and pulled her closer, leaning their foreheads against one another. “Something pulled them down. I was on deck, scrubbing, when it started. Something began to rock us, as if a whale was crashing into our side over and over. The Flight was rocking in the same way and I could hear her crew shouting to each other.”
Nadina rubbed circles on Mary’s back, as one might do for a stomach sick toddler. She kept her mouth shut about how much her arm ached -- it could wait until Mary had finished speaking.
“We brought out the cannons, to be on the safe side. Thought it was a whale that had gone mad. I hear it happens sometimes.”
“But it wasn’t.”
“No.”
Nadina felt Mary’s shaking subside, leaving only small ripples and twitches in her arms. Her voice got steadier as she spoke. “They were screaming. Oh gods, they were screaming as if the Dark Ones themselves had caught up with their ship. I could see them running about their deck like headless hens, pulling at ropes and rolling out cannons. It was all useless.”
Nadina began to hum a tune as she listened; a lullaby or maybe a nursery rhyme making its way up from the depths of her memory. “The ship overturned?”
“Right on its side,” Mary said. “I’ve never seen a ship sink that fast. It was as if something had wrapped around their keel and pulled.”
It was Nadina’s turn to shiver. Images of the Sand Wastes popped into her head, as unwelcome as salt in an open wound. Sand that swallowed cities whole, sand that left nothing to be mourned but an empty horizon.
“I think. I think I want to sleep here, the rest of the night. With you.”
Nadina gave the hair on the back of Mary’s neck a gentle tug, making the other girl face her. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“No, it’s very, very stupid,” Mary said, wiping away fresh tears, “but tomorrow we go swimming in that water and I don’t want to be alone until then.”
It was ever so foolish. Nadina wet her lips, searched for the right words, for a logical counter argument. She found none.
“I should have known you were a stinkin’ traitor!”
Nadina felt Mary go rigid at the same second as herself. Her heart in her throat Nadina peaked over Mary’s shoulder. She had to choke back a cry of pure rage and grief as she saw what awaited them in the doorway.
Mary whirled around so quickly Nadina’s fingers got tangled and almost stuck in her shirt.
“Don’t shoot her,” Mary said, her back to Nadina and her arms spread -- maybe as a sign of surrender, maybe as an attempt at shielding Nadina. Most likely both. “Please, don’t shoot her, Eartha.”
Eartha spat on the floor, the pistol in her hand aimed straight at Mary’s head. “Witch must have gotten far into your head for you to say muck like that. No saving you then, I take it.”
“I don’t need saving, Eartha.” Mary’s voice was faint, little more than a murmur, her shoulders sagging. Nadina had to curl her hands in the fabric of Mary’s shirt to ground herself.
Eartha’s laugh felt like a slap in the face. “If you say so. But this fleet certainly does. Get a move on!”
Mary glanced over her shoulder at Nadina, who gave her a push and the faintest of encouraging smiles. With a slow nod, Mary turned her attention back to Eartha and started walking.
“A stowaway,” the captain said, her voice much like thunder and the smash of a judge’s hammer. “Really Mary, I expected better from you. And a desert rat at that! Such a disgrace.”
Nadina stood as tall as the weight of the rope they’d bound her with would allow. She could feel hateful eyes glare fire into her back, hear the rage behind the silence of the crew. She did her best to ignore them. The fog made whatever lay beyond the ship’s main deck into a gray haze, but there were plenty of barrels, cannons and other such equipment in sight to assess.
Mary, brave brave Mary, met the captain’s gaze without flinching. “My mothers like her.”
A frenetic whispering started up among the crew. The captain silenced them with a look, then said: “Mothers? Well, that explains quite a bit. What else have you got to say for yourself?”
Mary caught Nadina’s eye. As stoic as her expression was, Nadina could see how small her pupils were, how all the blood was rushing to her legs, urging flight. All she could do in response was give a tiny shake of her head before going back to her assessment. The rope had begun to dig into her wrists.
“Taking orders from witches now, are you, sailor?” the captain said. “Can’t speak for yourself anymore?”
“I’m consulting with my future wife, if you must know,” Mary answered, baring teeth in the manner of a cornered jackal.
“Captain!” Eartha said, “I must ask you to end this heresy. For each second you let these two live, we--”
The captain cut her off with a curt gesture. “That’s enough, thank you. I know my duty. But I also know that all souls that can be saved, must be saved. It’s for the good of our people.”
Nadina tuned out the beginning speech. Her mind was working itself into exhaustion, cataloging and pairing up the equipment she had in sight. She didn’t cry out as she popped her left thumb out of its socket, but it were a near thing.
The ship gave a lurch, which almost made Nadina drop the rope still around her wrists. The captain’s speech had come to a halt and all the people around her -- both the crew and Mary -- stood stock still, eyes wide and trained on the ship’s starboard railing.
Not daring to breathe, Nadina pulled her uninjured hand out of the tangle of rope. Shifting as close to Mary as she dared she reached out and began to work on freeing her as well.
Another lurch shook life back into the onlookers.
“Report!” the captain bellowed. “All hands not on lookout to the guns!”
Nadina felt Mary’s hand squeeze hers as she got the rope free. They both stood in place as the deck erupted with activity around them.
“Seaweed!” a sailor no more than fifteen years of age shouted. “Captain, there’s a tangle of seaweed the size of a ship right next to us!”
“You fool,” another, older sailor shouted, “that’s hair!”
The captain cursed. “Get a grip on yourselves and bring me useful information!”
The ship lurched again, and again, until it felt like there was a full storm raging under them. Yet the air remained free of gales or claps of thunder.
“Time?” Nadina heard Mary whisper.
Nadina looked out over the scrambling sailors, darting every which way. She took in the ropes again, the sails. She focused on the two that had gotten loose and were flapping in the breeze, chased by panicked sailors.
She nodded, both in acknowledgment and to indicate their route. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments. “Time.”
They dropped their ropes at the same time, the approaching wave of adrenaline and endorphin muting the pain in Nadina’s left hand to a dull throb.
“Give me a push!” Nadina said and Mary moved like lightning, grabbing Nadina around the waist and lifting her.
Somersaulting backward and up into the air, Nadina landed on Mary’s shoulders and dug her toes into the fabric of Mary’s shirt. She caught sight of a few sailors gaping at them and blew them a raspberry.
“Ready when you are,” Mary said, her voice high and thin over the bustle of the sailors. She was rocking her weight back and forth for each lurch, keeping on her feet, but only just.
Nadina jumped from Mary’s shoulders and grabbed a passing sail with her good hand. She felt Mary grab her ankles and push off the deck. The sail went spinning heedlessly and Nadina bit back a cry of both joy and fear.
They were headed right for a crowd of armed sailors.
“Let go!” Mary shouted and Nadina did. She felt Mary release her ankles and grabbed a hold of a rope that came swinging by.
A loud crash and the sound of breaking wood drew cries of pure fear from the crew. Whirling past them, Nadina saw a crowd rush to the starboard side, saw how the ship had begun to tilt that way.
“We’re taking on water!” she heard someone shout as she landed in the rigging and let go of the rope. “Get to the lifeboats!”
Lifeboats! Of course there had to be lifeboats!
“Nadina!”
She spotted Mary standing on the port side railing, waving her arms above her head as if her life depended on it. Nadina waved back and began to untangle her compass from the folds of her clothes. She had to find East.
“Die, witch!”
The bullet brushed past Nadina’s left ear, close enough to hurt. Eartha was climbing the rigging, pupils blown wide, the eyes of a cat stalking prey. She’d dropped the pistol, but was drawing her dagger.
Biting back panic, Nadina opened her compass and squinted down at the tiny arrow. The fog blocking the moonlight made reading the damned thing near impossible.
Another shot rang out, followed by a dull thud. Nadina looked up from the compass and spotted Mary. She was holding a pistol and staring as the limp form of Eartha rolled down the deck, toward the starboard side.
Nadina wanted to call out to her, to reassure her, but the words died on her lips when she saw the pure horror on Mary’s face. Heart beating so loudly in her ears that it blocked out all sound, she followed Mary’s gaze.
A gigantic hand was wrapped around the ship’s main mast.
Nadina felt more than heard herself scream.
“Jump!”
Instinct took over. Before she knew it water surrounded her, cold and salty. “Mary?”
“Here!” The word had come from somewhere on her right hand side. That stilled the panic to a faint cry at the back of her mind. “Whi--” The rest was drowned by loud creaking as the ship next to them overturned.
Nadina trod water and fumbled with the clasp of her compass. Everything inside of her was screaming at her to swim, to get away, but she pushed that aside and stared down at the tiny arrow again. And finally it revealed its secret.
“This way!” She began to swim as she shouted, one hand above water to catch what faint moonlight she could on the compass. Behind her the screaming grew louder, followed by snapping planks and gunfire. She felt tears spill from her eyes as Mary caught up with her, swimming with even strokes despite the terror in her eyes.
“What do you think--?” Mary began to say, but cut herself short.
“I’ll race you,” Nadina heard herself say and fought back hysterical laughter.
Nadina swam until her limbs ached. Her mouth and throat burned with salt, her ears rang with the screams of the dying and the dead and her mind kept finding its way back to the question: What’s below me right now? But she kept swimming, passing ship after ship until there was only water and fog to be seen.
And then, there was sand.
Nadina stumbled to her feet as soon as the water was shallow enough for her to stand, and grabbed Mary by the hand. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” Mary said and the laughter that followed her answer spoke of truth. “I’m all right. I’m completely fine. And so are you, aren’t you?” She hesitated, shaky on her feet. “Please tell me you are.”
“I am,” Nadina said, letting loose a laugh that was hysteria and joy mixed into one. She pulled Mary into a tight hug, followed by a deep kiss. “We made it!”
The fog was thinner here, revealing a sandy beach and a forest right behind it. The sun was rising and it took Nadina a moment to register that it was doing so from the west. Curious and high on the moment, she turned to observe the sunrise through the mist. And froze.
In the distance, silhouetted against the fog, Nadina could see the shadow of a woman the size of a mountain.
She heard Mary gasp, but neither of them moved as the silhouette faded from sight, lowering back into the sea. Wordless, they both walked the rest of the way to the beach and collapsed, side by side.
“Well,” Mary said, “that will be one monster of a story to tell the grandkids.”
Nadina fell back and stretched out on the sand. She couldn’t help but give a laugh. “You think we’ll have grandchildren?” she said, rolling over to look at Mary. “And exactly how would we manage that?”
Mary had a lopsided grin on her face and was covered in sand. She looked like something the cat had dragged in and thrown in the well. And still the sight of her made warmth pool in Nadina’s belly.
“How do you think my mothers had me?” Mary said. “I hear there are plenty of war orphans about. Giving some of them a home would be the right thing to do.”
“And we always do the right thing,” Nadina said, reaching out to take Mary’s hand in hers.
“Yeah,” Mary answered and squeezed Nadina’s hand. “At the right time.”
She’d dreamed herself back to her hometown, deep in the desert’s embrace. She could almost picture her room; not like it had been the last time she’d seen it, with crumbled walls and blood smeared floor, but as it had been last spring. The breeze had been blowing in through her window and the birds had been singing outside. She’d heard her father calling from the kitchen -- Mary’s family was coming to visit.
It had been a good day. She clung to it now as the cold seeped in through the badly thatched porthole.
Mary had promised to steal her blankets, but Nadina had told her not to take any foolish risks. A scrap of food here and there, mostly from Mary’s own plate, would bring no questions, neither would the extra latrine bucket, but a missing blanket? Much harder to excuse.
A loud crash echoed outside. Nadina jumped and clamped a hand over her mouth, choking back a scream. Her other hand automatically darted to feel that she still had her compass in the pocket closest to her heart. The sound continued, crashing across the waters like a siren. It was the sound of breaking wood, of screaming, drowning people.
It tore into her and buried deep.
Nadina moved her hands from her mouth and compass, covered her ears and curled up into a ball. There was nothing she could do. Nothing. She kept telling herself that they were enemy soldiers, that their loss was a win for her people, but the words rung hollow against the blood curdling screams from the sinking ship. It had to be sinking. But how?
Above her there was shouting as well, and running, but no screams of pain. Just panic.
Nadina stayed as she was until the noises faded. She dared throw a glance at the porthole from between the barrels, but the fog still lay too thick outside. How long could fog last?
Mary’s steps took longer than usual to part from the crowd upstairs. She threw open the door as she entered the cargo hold. Nadina would have scolded her if she hadn’t had trouble keeping her breaths even and her legs from shaking.
“Are we under attack?” Nadina asked, her voice a whisper in contrast to the cacophony of noise outside and above.
“One of the other ships must have hit unmarked shallows,” Mary said, her face as pale as a ghost’s. “It was at the far end of the fleet so we can’t see much on deck either. Damn fog’s too thick.”
“Then why did you come down here?” Nadina asked.
“Don’t be stupid,” was all the answer she got. Mary reached in between the barrels and took Nadina’s hands in her own. “I wish I could stay with you, but that’ll get me caught for sure. I’m supposed to be searching for the captain’s spare looking glass. First mate dropped the usual one when the other ship ran aground.”
“I’ll help you look.”
They fumbled through the boxes as the world outside and above grew quieter. No more screams were heard, no more breaking of wood or ripping of sails.
Looking glass found Mary rushed out without saying a word. This left Nadina strangely relieved. She curled up in her corner and put her ear against the wall, straining her hearing. It was faint, but below she could hear something moving through the water. Right under them. Something big.
It had to be her imagination. She had always had good hearing, but these water were much too far west for whales to swim here.
She prayed it was her imagination.
It had been a good day. She clung to it now as the cold seeped in through the badly thatched porthole.
Mary had promised to steal her blankets, but Nadina had told her not to take any foolish risks. A scrap of food here and there, mostly from Mary’s own plate, would bring no questions, neither would the extra latrine bucket, but a missing blanket? Much harder to excuse.
A loud crash echoed outside. Nadina jumped and clamped a hand over her mouth, choking back a scream. Her other hand automatically darted to feel that she still had her compass in the pocket closest to her heart. The sound continued, crashing across the waters like a siren. It was the sound of breaking wood, of screaming, drowning people.
It tore into her and buried deep.
Nadina moved her hands from her mouth and compass, covered her ears and curled up into a ball. There was nothing she could do. Nothing. She kept telling herself that they were enemy soldiers, that their loss was a win for her people, but the words rung hollow against the blood curdling screams from the sinking ship. It had to be sinking. But how?
Above her there was shouting as well, and running, but no screams of pain. Just panic.
Nadina stayed as she was until the noises faded. She dared throw a glance at the porthole from between the barrels, but the fog still lay too thick outside. How long could fog last?
Mary’s steps took longer than usual to part from the crowd upstairs. She threw open the door as she entered the cargo hold. Nadina would have scolded her if she hadn’t had trouble keeping her breaths even and her legs from shaking.
“Are we under attack?” Nadina asked, her voice a whisper in contrast to the cacophony of noise outside and above.
“One of the other ships must have hit unmarked shallows,” Mary said, her face as pale as a ghost’s. “It was at the far end of the fleet so we can’t see much on deck either. Damn fog’s too thick.”
“Then why did you come down here?” Nadina asked.
“Don’t be stupid,” was all the answer she got. Mary reached in between the barrels and took Nadina’s hands in her own. “I wish I could stay with you, but that’ll get me caught for sure. I’m supposed to be searching for the captain’s spare looking glass. First mate dropped the usual one when the other ship ran aground.”
“I’ll help you look.”
They fumbled through the boxes as the world outside and above grew quieter. No more screams were heard, no more breaking of wood or ripping of sails.
Looking glass found Mary rushed out without saying a word. This left Nadina strangely relieved. She curled up in her corner and put her ear against the wall, straining her hearing. It was faint, but below she could hear something moving through the water. Right under them. Something big.
It had to be her imagination. She had always had good hearing, but these water were much too far west for whales to swim here.
She prayed it was her imagination.
****
“You sure it’s in here?”
The voice woke Nadina. She rolled over, landed on all fours and rose up on the tips of her fingers and toes, knees and elbows bent. Keeping low she made her way over to the cracks between the barrels.
“Nicholas said it was,” a second voice answered the first. Nadina tilted her head to the left and caught sight of two pairs of legs right by the door.
“Better hop to it then,” the first voice said. The second one grumbled something, but they both began to move about the room.
Nadina held her breath. She calculated. She focused.
“Behind those barrels, do you think?”
Nadina edged closer to the barrels, until she was practically plastered to them. With practiced ease she held on to the barrels and folded out of the way as the two sailors stepped closer, not touching the floor once as she made her escape.
“It’s spooky, isn’t it?” the first voice said. A barrel cracked open, likely thanks to the voice’s owner. Nadina kept a close eye on the sailors as she stayed in their blind spot. She couldn’t get caught like this -- that would be a humiliating way to die.
“What?” the second voice said. Nadina hadn’t been able to place the first voice, but this one she knew. Eartha was one of the sailors that worked the mess hall often and seemed to be on good terms with Mary; she’d help her carry the buckets now and then, passing by the room where Nadina hid.
“Knowing our maps are wrong,” Eartha’s companion said. She’d begun to sort through the opened barrel, making small disappointed noises every time she pulled something out that wasn’t what she was looking for.
Nadina heard Eartha spit. “Don’t bring such talk below deck,” the woman said with the conviction of the truly superstitious. “I’ll not have you bring the same bad luck onto our ship.”
Her companion didn’t comment on this, only shrugged and kept on digging.
It took them three barrels more to find whatever it was they were looking for. Nadina kept well out of sight, bending and holding in place along the barrels as needed. It was quite the thrill, much different from being alone all day. But that she enjoyed the challenge so much left her face burning and her thoughts shied away from Mary; Mary who’d had to do far more dangerous dances in the past month.
“Odd that,” Eartha’s companion said as the two of them prepared to leave the room, “leaving a hole right in the middle there.”
“I wouldn’t mess with the captain’s packing,” Eartha said. “Probably like that for a reason.”
Nadina peaked out from between the barrels, safely back on the floor, her arms and legs aching from the punishing exercise. She caught Eartha’s companion shrugging again.
“You’re right,” the woman said. “Wouldn’t want to be blamed if one of the captain’s souvenirs got smashed.”
“The gods’ praise to that, friend.”
And like that, they were gone. Nadina let out the breath she’d been holding since she’d set herself back down on the floor. “If only you could have seen me now, love,” she whispered to herself, giddy and filled to the brim with adrenaline, all thoughts of shame swept aside. “Oh Mary, if only you could have seen me.”
Telling would have to do. She’d better keep herself from exaggerating, though the temptation was there. After all, you should always be true to those you loved.
****
“Do you remember that time your dad tripped and fell into the pond?”
Nadina frowned at the question and leaned her head back further, until the back of it was resting against the back of Mary’s. “Yes, why?”
She felt Mary shrug. “I don’t know. It just popped into my head. It was such a fun little mishap… I wish we had more of those now and less of,” out of the corner of her eye Nadina saw Mary wave her arms around, as if gesturing to the entire ship, “this.”
Nadina closed her eyes and gave a curt nod. She tried calling up a picture of her father -- his thick beard and wide smile, his belly shaking laugh and arms that gave such comforting hugs -- and found herself thinking of him as he’d looked that day. He’d been soaked from head to foot when he’d gotten out, sans one shoe and laughing like a loon. Her brother and older sister had given him a hand up and he’d bought them all a slice of watermelon for helping instead of teasing him.
“I miss home,” Nadina said, not caring that the statement was both obvious and unnecessary between them.
“I understand that.”
Nadina’s frown returned and she opened her eyes. Turning her head to the right, still resting it against Mary’s, she did her best to meet Mary’s gaze. “You don’t miss it?”
“…it wasn’t really my home to miss.”
Red tinted the edge of Nadina’s vision. The color came over her like rising water and she had to bite the inside of her cheek not to whirl around and shake Mary by the shoulders. “Don’t you dare say that!”
“Nadina…” Mary sounded deflated, as if her lungs were giving out little by little.
Blood seeped from the wound in Nadina’s cheek. She let her tongue sweep over the jagged cut her teeth had made, before saying: “You were born there. How could it not be your home?”
Mary made a small sound Nadina had no word for. She got up, leaving Nadina to either lean forward or tumble backward, and began to pace their square of privacy.
Nadina wrapped her arms around her knees and watched Mary pace, letting her mouth fill with the taste of blood.
“It’s just that I feel...I don’t know,” Mary paused, waving her arms about again, “like an impostor.”
There was a torrent of words at the back of Nadina’s throat, pushing to be let through. But she knew they would do no good. This wasn’t the time. So instead of speaking them, she let out: “Is this because we’ll be meeting up with them soon?”
Mary gave a chuckle with no joy behind it. “Maybe. I keep thinking… What if my mothers…”
Nadina pushed herself to her feet before Mary had time to find other words and pulled her into a hug. She pulled Mary’s head down to rest against her shoulder and whispered into her ear: “Your mothers are the only reason we all got out safe.” Ice brushed against the red she was seeing, fading it. “Or did they say something to you that’s given you doubts?”
Mary shook her head, her nose rubbing against Nadina’s shoulder. “No. No they wouldn’t. I’m being stupid.”
Outside the waves crashing against the hull stilled. The boots trampling the boards above them grew quieter, or maybe it was the soft thud of Mary’s heartbeat that muted them to Nadina’s ears.
“I hope they’re all right,” Nadina said, the faces of her siblings, her father, Mary’s mothers, and so many others flickering before her mind’s eye.
“Your dad is tough as nails. He’ll keep your family safe,” Mary said. “And my mums would never let something as petty as a war end them.”
Nadina nodded.
A great crash echoed through the ship. Nadina and Mary both jumped, digging their nails into each other’s arms and shoulders. The crash was follow by shouting and steps thundering back and forth. The two of them stared at the ceiling before meeting each other’s eyes.
“I think that’s my signal,” Mary said, forcing a smile. “A cannon must have gotten loose. I hope no one’s hurt.”
Nadina pulled her in for a last hug before letting go completely.
“Be ready,” Mary whispered and Nadina could feel her lips trembling. “The islands are close and the fog will give us cover. Rest and be ready to run east.”
“And swim,” Nadina said, matching her tone to Mary’s. One of her hands found its way to her compass again, brushing against its reassuring brass. “Don’t work yourself to death up there. I’ll have enough of a tough time swimming in this skirt without having to pull you along.”
“You won’t have to.” And with that, Mary left.
****
The creaking of breaking boards was deafening enough. The cannon fire did little to spare Nadina’s eardrums. She huddled in her corner and prayed.
“Gods of the desert, please spare my dear love,” she whispered to her folded hands. “I know the sea is not your seat of power, but Ytraka, Goddess of the Rain, please do all you can to save my dear Mary from whatever horrors awa--”
Another loud boom cut her prayer short. She clamped her hands over her ears and curled in on herself, fighting back tears. She would not die crying in a corner while Mary was out there fighting! But what choice do I have? Showing myself would only put her in more danger.
Nadina pushed herself against the wall and uncovered one ears long enough to hook an arm around a loose board in one of the boxes. The ship was rocking from side to side so harshly it felt like it were tumbling up and down steep hills. She eyed the boxes around her, taking in how they’d been secured to the floor and ceiling. The ropes looked sturdy, but sturdy enough?
The waves kept crashing against the ship as if against a shore during a bad storm. But outside there was only fog and more fog, no howling wind and no rain.
Nadina tried counting the time between the rocks of the ship, tried to count how many times she was thrown left and right, but there was no use. The falls were irregular, as if something large had the ship by the main mast and was shaking it. Nadina refused to cry, bit her lips and cheeks not to cry, pressed harder and harder at her ears not to cry, but in the end she had to.
Sobbing and shaking was the way Mary found her, an hour later.
“Nadina?” Mary’s voice said, drifting from the doorway.
Nadina uncurled her arm -- bleeding and bruised as it was -- from its secure hold on the damaged barrel and peaked through the cracks in the boxes. She didn’t bother to dry her tears. “Are you hurt?”
Mary shook her head. “Not badly.” She was favoring one leg as she walked.
Nadina frowned and stood, to better be able to scrutinize Mary’s leg. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I get to keep my limbs.” Mary was shaking from head to toe, as if she’d been dropped into a bath of ice water and only just dried off.
Nadina was quick to pull her into an embrace the moment she got within reach. “What happened up there? Were we attacked?”
“Yes, but we don’t know by what.” There were tear tracks in the sooth and dust on Mary’s cheeks. “I-it came out of nowhere, out of the fog. It rocked the entire ship!”
“Yes, I felt that,” Nadina said, smoothing down Mary’s hair in what she hoped was a calming manner. “How badly are we damaged?”
“Not at all, aside from a shaken crew,” Mary said, her words hollow. “But the Flight…”
Nadina wracked her brain for an association to that name. She felt as tender as a beaten steak and about as intelligent.
“The ship next to us?” she asked, hoping she’d guessed right. Mary had gone through the fleet’s formation on more than on occasion, but without visual feedback the names and descriptions did little to help Nadina memorize it.
Mary only nodded, burying her face in Nadina’s shoulder.
“How bad?” Nadina dared ask. Her shoulder was getting damp from Mary’s tears.
“It’s gone,” Mary whispered, her voice muffled against the fabric of Nadina’s dress. “It just disappeared.”
“Magic?” The thought was a frightening one. Witches and wizards were usually a friendly bunch, or the ones that had lived in Kantra had been. She’d seen a few make rabbits or birds vanish, only to reappear under a hat or in a basket. But an entire ship…
“No. No, it wasn’t magic,” Mary said and pushed at Nadina’s arms until she was let up. She then put her arms on Nadina’s shoulders and pulled her closer, leaning their foreheads against one another. “Something pulled them down. I was on deck, scrubbing, when it started. Something began to rock us, as if a whale was crashing into our side over and over. The Flight was rocking in the same way and I could hear her crew shouting to each other.”
Nadina rubbed circles on Mary’s back, as one might do for a stomach sick toddler. She kept her mouth shut about how much her arm ached -- it could wait until Mary had finished speaking.
“We brought out the cannons, to be on the safe side. Thought it was a whale that had gone mad. I hear it happens sometimes.”
“But it wasn’t.”
“No.”
Nadina felt Mary’s shaking subside, leaving only small ripples and twitches in her arms. Her voice got steadier as she spoke. “They were screaming. Oh gods, they were screaming as if the Dark Ones themselves had caught up with their ship. I could see them running about their deck like headless hens, pulling at ropes and rolling out cannons. It was all useless.”
Nadina began to hum a tune as she listened; a lullaby or maybe a nursery rhyme making its way up from the depths of her memory. “The ship overturned?”
“Right on its side,” Mary said. “I’ve never seen a ship sink that fast. It was as if something had wrapped around their keel and pulled.”
It was Nadina’s turn to shiver. Images of the Sand Wastes popped into her head, as unwelcome as salt in an open wound. Sand that swallowed cities whole, sand that left nothing to be mourned but an empty horizon.
“I think. I think I want to sleep here, the rest of the night. With you.”
Nadina gave the hair on the back of Mary’s neck a gentle tug, making the other girl face her. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“No, it’s very, very stupid,” Mary said, wiping away fresh tears, “but tomorrow we go swimming in that water and I don’t want to be alone until then.”
It was ever so foolish. Nadina wet her lips, searched for the right words, for a logical counter argument. She found none.
“I should have known you were a stinkin’ traitor!”
Nadina felt Mary go rigid at the same second as herself. Her heart in her throat Nadina peaked over Mary’s shoulder. She had to choke back a cry of pure rage and grief as she saw what awaited them in the doorway.
Mary whirled around so quickly Nadina’s fingers got tangled and almost stuck in her shirt.
“Don’t shoot her,” Mary said, her back to Nadina and her arms spread -- maybe as a sign of surrender, maybe as an attempt at shielding Nadina. Most likely both. “Please, don’t shoot her, Eartha.”
Eartha spat on the floor, the pistol in her hand aimed straight at Mary’s head. “Witch must have gotten far into your head for you to say muck like that. No saving you then, I take it.”
“I don’t need saving, Eartha.” Mary’s voice was faint, little more than a murmur, her shoulders sagging. Nadina had to curl her hands in the fabric of Mary’s shirt to ground herself.
Eartha’s laugh felt like a slap in the face. “If you say so. But this fleet certainly does. Get a move on!”
Mary glanced over her shoulder at Nadina, who gave her a push and the faintest of encouraging smiles. With a slow nod, Mary turned her attention back to Eartha and started walking.
****
“A stowaway,” the captain said, her voice much like thunder and the smash of a judge’s hammer. “Really Mary, I expected better from you. And a desert rat at that! Such a disgrace.”
Nadina stood as tall as the weight of the rope they’d bound her with would allow. She could feel hateful eyes glare fire into her back, hear the rage behind the silence of the crew. She did her best to ignore them. The fog made whatever lay beyond the ship’s main deck into a gray haze, but there were plenty of barrels, cannons and other such equipment in sight to assess.
Mary, brave brave Mary, met the captain’s gaze without flinching. “My mothers like her.”
A frenetic whispering started up among the crew. The captain silenced them with a look, then said: “Mothers? Well, that explains quite a bit. What else have you got to say for yourself?”
Mary caught Nadina’s eye. As stoic as her expression was, Nadina could see how small her pupils were, how all the blood was rushing to her legs, urging flight. All she could do in response was give a tiny shake of her head before going back to her assessment. The rope had begun to dig into her wrists.
“Taking orders from witches now, are you, sailor?” the captain said. “Can’t speak for yourself anymore?”
“I’m consulting with my future wife, if you must know,” Mary answered, baring teeth in the manner of a cornered jackal.
“Captain!” Eartha said, “I must ask you to end this heresy. For each second you let these two live, we--”
The captain cut her off with a curt gesture. “That’s enough, thank you. I know my duty. But I also know that all souls that can be saved, must be saved. It’s for the good of our people.”
Nadina tuned out the beginning speech. Her mind was working itself into exhaustion, cataloging and pairing up the equipment she had in sight. She didn’t cry out as she popped her left thumb out of its socket, but it were a near thing.
The ship gave a lurch, which almost made Nadina drop the rope still around her wrists. The captain’s speech had come to a halt and all the people around her -- both the crew and Mary -- stood stock still, eyes wide and trained on the ship’s starboard railing.
Not daring to breathe, Nadina pulled her uninjured hand out of the tangle of rope. Shifting as close to Mary as she dared she reached out and began to work on freeing her as well.
Another lurch shook life back into the onlookers.
“Report!” the captain bellowed. “All hands not on lookout to the guns!”
Nadina felt Mary’s hand squeeze hers as she got the rope free. They both stood in place as the deck erupted with activity around them.
“Seaweed!” a sailor no more than fifteen years of age shouted. “Captain, there’s a tangle of seaweed the size of a ship right next to us!”
“You fool,” another, older sailor shouted, “that’s hair!”
The captain cursed. “Get a grip on yourselves and bring me useful information!”
The ship lurched again, and again, until it felt like there was a full storm raging under them. Yet the air remained free of gales or claps of thunder.
“Time?” Nadina heard Mary whisper.
Nadina looked out over the scrambling sailors, darting every which way. She took in the ropes again, the sails. She focused on the two that had gotten loose and were flapping in the breeze, chased by panicked sailors.
She nodded, both in acknowledgment and to indicate their route. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments. “Time.”
They dropped their ropes at the same time, the approaching wave of adrenaline and endorphin muting the pain in Nadina’s left hand to a dull throb.
“Give me a push!” Nadina said and Mary moved like lightning, grabbing Nadina around the waist and lifting her.
Somersaulting backward and up into the air, Nadina landed on Mary’s shoulders and dug her toes into the fabric of Mary’s shirt. She caught sight of a few sailors gaping at them and blew them a raspberry.
“Ready when you are,” Mary said, her voice high and thin over the bustle of the sailors. She was rocking her weight back and forth for each lurch, keeping on her feet, but only just.
Nadina jumped from Mary’s shoulders and grabbed a passing sail with her good hand. She felt Mary grab her ankles and push off the deck. The sail went spinning heedlessly and Nadina bit back a cry of both joy and fear.
They were headed right for a crowd of armed sailors.
“Let go!” Mary shouted and Nadina did. She felt Mary release her ankles and grabbed a hold of a rope that came swinging by.
A loud crash and the sound of breaking wood drew cries of pure fear from the crew. Whirling past them, Nadina saw a crowd rush to the starboard side, saw how the ship had begun to tilt that way.
“We’re taking on water!” she heard someone shout as she landed in the rigging and let go of the rope. “Get to the lifeboats!”
Lifeboats! Of course there had to be lifeboats!
“Nadina!”
She spotted Mary standing on the port side railing, waving her arms above her head as if her life depended on it. Nadina waved back and began to untangle her compass from the folds of her clothes. She had to find East.
“Die, witch!”
The bullet brushed past Nadina’s left ear, close enough to hurt. Eartha was climbing the rigging, pupils blown wide, the eyes of a cat stalking prey. She’d dropped the pistol, but was drawing her dagger.
Biting back panic, Nadina opened her compass and squinted down at the tiny arrow. The fog blocking the moonlight made reading the damned thing near impossible.
Another shot rang out, followed by a dull thud. Nadina looked up from the compass and spotted Mary. She was holding a pistol and staring as the limp form of Eartha rolled down the deck, toward the starboard side.
Nadina wanted to call out to her, to reassure her, but the words died on her lips when she saw the pure horror on Mary’s face. Heart beating so loudly in her ears that it blocked out all sound, she followed Mary’s gaze.
A gigantic hand was wrapped around the ship’s main mast.
Nadina felt more than heard herself scream.
“Jump!”
Instinct took over. Before she knew it water surrounded her, cold and salty. “Mary?”
“Here!” The word had come from somewhere on her right hand side. That stilled the panic to a faint cry at the back of her mind. “Whi--” The rest was drowned by loud creaking as the ship next to them overturned.
Nadina trod water and fumbled with the clasp of her compass. Everything inside of her was screaming at her to swim, to get away, but she pushed that aside and stared down at the tiny arrow again. And finally it revealed its secret.
“This way!” She began to swim as she shouted, one hand above water to catch what faint moonlight she could on the compass. Behind her the screaming grew louder, followed by snapping planks and gunfire. She felt tears spill from her eyes as Mary caught up with her, swimming with even strokes despite the terror in her eyes.
“What do you think--?” Mary began to say, but cut herself short.
“I’ll race you,” Nadina heard herself say and fought back hysterical laughter.
Nadina swam until her limbs ached. Her mouth and throat burned with salt, her ears rang with the screams of the dying and the dead and her mind kept finding its way back to the question: What’s below me right now? But she kept swimming, passing ship after ship until there was only water and fog to be seen.
And then, there was sand.
Nadina stumbled to her feet as soon as the water was shallow enough for her to stand, and grabbed Mary by the hand. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” Mary said and the laughter that followed her answer spoke of truth. “I’m all right. I’m completely fine. And so are you, aren’t you?” She hesitated, shaky on her feet. “Please tell me you are.”
“I am,” Nadina said, letting loose a laugh that was hysteria and joy mixed into one. She pulled Mary into a tight hug, followed by a deep kiss. “We made it!”
The fog was thinner here, revealing a sandy beach and a forest right behind it. The sun was rising and it took Nadina a moment to register that it was doing so from the west. Curious and high on the moment, she turned to observe the sunrise through the mist. And froze.
In the distance, silhouetted against the fog, Nadina could see the shadow of a woman the size of a mountain.
She heard Mary gasp, but neither of them moved as the silhouette faded from sight, lowering back into the sea. Wordless, they both walked the rest of the way to the beach and collapsed, side by side.
“Well,” Mary said, “that will be one monster of a story to tell the grandkids.”
Nadina fell back and stretched out on the sand. She couldn’t help but give a laugh. “You think we’ll have grandchildren?” she said, rolling over to look at Mary. “And exactly how would we manage that?”
Mary had a lopsided grin on her face and was covered in sand. She looked like something the cat had dragged in and thrown in the well. And still the sight of her made warmth pool in Nadina’s belly.
“How do you think my mothers had me?” Mary said. “I hear there are plenty of war orphans about. Giving some of them a home would be the right thing to do.”
“And we always do the right thing,” Nadina said, reaching out to take Mary’s hand in hers.
“Yeah,” Mary answered and squeezed Nadina’s hand. “At the right time.”
