Chapter 68

  Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye. Ael thought often on their night, on what Nereida had revealed with her strong reaction to being called a pet. She took soce in the fact that Nereida or the sirens had drowned those responsible, sending their souls to the deepest hell. They made sure to take time for each other daily now, to talk about something real, even if it was only a few minutes. She had not realized how much she had pulled away from her wife once on the ship.

  Now, life was perfect. Routines were set. Everyone knew their pce. The shift in the crew toward her daughter (she would never tire of thinking of Epelda as her daughter!) had seemed monumental at first, but now, aside from the occasional tease calling her Countess, everything seemed settled. The baby, too, had finally, finally outgrown her constant screaming. Basiano was more present in his sister’s life again, though he still carried the baby everywhere. She supposed it was more difficult to be the only parent. The nursemaid only held the child to feed her. She and her husband joined them for stories at night, practically lived on the deck, and on calm, windless days, they would spend their time in the ocean, reconnecting with it. Even Nereida went to the ocean one very calm day, dressed in tight trousers that showed her shapely curves very nicely, especially once she had been in the water and the clothing clung to her.

  The Admiral showed her appreciation for the outfit, to her wife that night thoroughly.

  On the night of the new moon, however, the air was sharp and cool, heralding a storm. The Grand Admiral ordered All Hands, getting everyone and everything ready for the storm she was certain was coming. Her mind buzzed with visions that swam on the edge of her knowing. She went to find Jules. She had news for him that he would not like.

  “Admiral,” the boy said, saluting crisply as she approached.

  “Jules,” she greeted. “You need to go below deck and watch Alejo and Egaz.” He stared at her, and then looked crestfallen.

  “Yes ma’am, sir.” He looked at his toes. “Have I done something?”

  “No.” She softened her tone, let herself be Ael, and not the Admiral. She took a breath, and surrendered to her power, hating the vulnerability but knowing it was necessary. “In the shadows of grief, when the storm touches the tooth, the heart of the wind will be lost should the water touch his face.” She let the words tumble out, the images jumbled and painful, making her feel ill. The only thing she could truly make out was the rain on Jules’s face, his eyes unseeing. Her hands shook, and the boy reached out instinctively to support her. She let him. She felt a twinge of annoyance, not at him, but at herself. She was going soft. “I won’t let her first love end that way,” she said, more to herself than to him. The boy flushed in embarrassment, and he gave her a tentative smile.

  “I’ll be below with the boys,” he promised. “How hard can two well behaved boys be?” Ael waited until he was gone before she snickered. The boys WERE well behaved. But Jules would grow to hate the word why as much as she did before the night was out.

  Her unpleasant tasks were not yet complete, however. She found her wife on deck, working to secure the riggings alongside their daughter.

  “Nereida,” she called, using her Admiral voice. She put her title on like armour for her heart. She had to be the Admiral now. The princess came trotting over after squeezing Epelda’s shoulder.

  “The egg is with Dymion,” Nereida said as a way of greeting.

  “You need to go below deck,” she ordered. Nereida crossed her arms, and was about to argue, when the Admiral lifted her hand. “This is not a negotiation, and you are not my wife right now. You are a crewmember. Find the Nurse and her husband and bring them too. If I am right, we are going to be blown into a rock. I need you three keeping us afloat until I can send Dymion. It will be unpleasant, and likely dangerous. Can you go to the bowels of the ship to keep her afloat?” Nereida looked unconvinced, until the Admiral dropped her walls again. On the New Moon, the energies flowed into her like water, even behind the clouds. “The Tooth will be chipped by the body of the Ocean; grief will pour in.”

  “I thought prophecies were supposed to rhyme,” Nereida grumbled. Ael ughed, her armour slipping away.

  “I will see you soon, love,” Ael promised. “Be safe.”

  Once Nereida had left, Ael rushed to the edge of her ship and lost her supper. The magic pyed havoc with her body. She felt cold, the power draining her. It felt as if she had been crying for hours, her grief breaking her apart. The feelings were intense, and she was not sure what feelings were hers, and what belonged to the Moon Dragon. Small wonder her people thought the New Moon caused madness.

  The storm rolled in an hour ter. Everyone who was not completely necessary to the ship was below deck, positioned to warn the sirens aboard if water was coming in quickly. The helmsman was shed to the helm, holding steady. Epelda was also on deck, ready to sing. Ael had warned her daughter to only sing if it was dire. She had no prophetic words, just an uneasy feeling about conjuring the wind tonight. There was no secret to be kept, no worry for her beyond the danger from the storm, only a strange feeling of unease about singing this storm.

  The Admiral wished she could wear her hat, to keep the driving rain from her eyes. It was a heavy rain, so heavy she lost sight of most of the deck. The wind was wild, untamed, almost angry. Thunder crashed overhead, so loud it made her teeth hurt. The ship rocked dangerously, barely keeping above the waves. Ael let herself worry about the children, the baby and the egg for only a single moment, before she pressed the thoughts of her family from her mind. Ael had no pce in a storm like this. She had to be the Admiral.

  It was impossible for the helmsman, or anyone, to see where they were going. She knew Gregors would keep them on track as best he could. He was the strongest of those she let take the helm, arms like tree trunks. But even he struggled to keep the Tooth from spiraling out of control. They kept on course as best as possible, riding the waves, giving ground to the sea’s temper.

  This storm was angry.

  Lightning and thunder both intensified, and the Admiral felt the fine hairs on her neck stand up. No! She remembered this feeling, from before their mizzenmast had been struck. She yelled to Gregors, ran toward him, when lightning struck the Main Mast. The old girl did not catch fire, for which the Admiral offered up a prayer of thanks, but debris and broken bits went flying everywhere. She looked around, making sure the damage was minimal, when the boat began to turn in rough waves. She looked up and Gregors slumped forward. The Admiral could not make out wounds, but she moved toward him as fast as she could. The ship lurched about, tossed like a child’s toy by the waves. The Admiral hit the rails, the wind knocked from her, and it was all she could do to hold on and not be tossed into the angry, churning sea. She feared Gregors was dead, but had no way to get to him unless the storm calmed slightly.

  A sudden feeling of tranquility washed over her. The panic of her worldly concerns melted away as she felt the magic stir in her. Without knowing why, she reached for her whistle. It took her a moment to get it untangled from beneath her jacket, but she eventually pced the cool metal against her lips. And she saw three paths forward. She could completely deny fate, keep Epelda from singing, but her ship would go down. The sirens would live, her egg would live, but she would not. She could accept that Jules would die, and let Epelda finish her song. The boy would be drawn out when the ship calmed, only to die when the final piece of the damaged mast broke free to crush him. Or, she could call off Epelda’s song midsong, interrupting her at a crucial moment. They would strike a rock. The ship would be injured, but would live. They would find an isnd, and continue to do their part in the Great Works. The thoughts, the emotions, were too much for Ael to bear. But she knew the choice had to be hers.

  To make no choice at all was still a choice… and resulted in the deaths of three hundred people. She could sacrifice Jules, but her daughter… she couldn’t do that to Epelda. She could not knowingly let him die. And so she took the third path, the one she feared, because she feared it less than the grief down the other two paths.

  Four long toots, a call for the song. It was time. There was no more need to fear her daughter’s music. Epelda’s beautiful, haunting song rose up in the driving rain and angry wind. This one felt strangely hopeful. The Admiral had never looked for the emotions that drove her daughter’s songs before, but this one spoke of hope and bright things, without words. Ael felt it, felt the magic in the air with greater precision and power than ever before. The music sang to her skin; it made all of her tingle. She let herself be moved by the music, let herself cry. No one would see in the rain, after all.

  And after only a few minutes, she peeped four times again. Stop. Epelda’s song continued, hesitantly, and so Ael blew her whistle again. Four peeps. Please, daughter, LISTEN TO ME. She sent her will to her daughter, knowing she could not hear anything but the wind, the rain, and the whistle. The music ceased as the wind howled. They were in a worse part of the storm than when Epelda had started to sing. Ael closed her eyes. She held her ship’s rail tightly, not daring to do anything else.

  “Forgive me, old friend,” she said to the ship, just before the waves tossed them into something solid. Ael lost her grip and went sliding across the deck, ramming into a mast. The air was knocked from her lungs and she saw stars. She heard a terrible crashing sound behind her, but she could not turn enough to see it. She heard her daughter’s terrified scream, but Epelda was too far across the deck to see.

  The Tooth lurched again. The Admiral clung to the mast, holding for her life against the terrifying storm. Had she misunderstood the visions? Had she doomed them all? She did not want to die, not after all they had been through, not after finding someone she could be happy with! Fear choked her, a fear she had not let herself feel in a long time. A blinding, terrible fear that left no room for thought. The rain drowned out other sounds, blinded her. The thunder roared overhead, but it gged now, slower than the lightning.

  After half an hour more of being tossed about like a toy, the waves finally calmed as the storm left them in its wake. Ael, still battered from her trip across the deck, limped over to the helm as the rain was slowing. They needed to regain control of the Tooth. Gregors was still unconscious, or possibly dead. She hardened her heart. She could check him once they were all safe. She set a new course, guided by instinct or magic, she no longer knew the difference between the two.

  By the time the rain ceased enough to properly sea, Ael saw a dark shape in the distance… an isnd. She steered the ship toward the isnd. Evander was finally able to get to her side.

  “Drop the sails,” she ordered. “Then get Epelda to sing again. We need to reach the isnd fast.” He hesitated, looking back at Epelda. No doubt the girl was exhausted, frightened. “Evander! Now. Or we will go down!”

  That was enough for the first mate. He set about getting the crew up to help. One of them told him that the ship was taking on water, but that all four adult sirens were singing and keeping the water mostly out. The Admiral kept the wheel steady until a few of the bigger crewmen could untie Gregors. She whispered softly to her ship as she kept the wheel steady, only stopping when the crew arrived to help Gregors. Dymion led the charge, and started on healing what he could after the surgeon removed a piece of wooden shrapnel from the unfortunate helmsman’s shoulder. Once the medical team removed him, she stepped back to the wheel and resumed her apologies.

  Epelda’s song was high and full of worry and fear. Even those without magic could feel her panic. The Admiral felt her eyes burn with tears, but she locked them away. She could cry when they were safe, in the quiet of her cabin, with no witnesses except perhaps her wife. She knew what was necessary for them to survive. As they approached the isnd, a beautiful, plentiful isnd, Ael gave a hard, sudden pull on the helm, causing them to tilt to the side. Epelda’s song stopped abruptly as she was thrown off her feet. There was a horrible thud, and the ship ceased moving. The whole of the ship tilted. Ael knew, the way they had nded, that the damaged part would no longer be submerged.

  “I’m sorry, my friend.” Ael whispered once more. “But I had to run us aground.” She closed her eyes, feeling a pain in her heart. The ship could be fixed, but high tide was coming. It would not be safe. And so, she gave the order no captain ever wants to give.

  “Abandon ship!”