Vengeance of the Pirate Queen(27)

They immediately jump into action, still casting looks this way whenever they get the chance.

When Kearan arrives, his face is blank.

“Helmsman,” I say, raising my voice, “when you passed this way on a previous voyage, did you ever hear singing coming from the sea?”

“No, Captain.” He answers loud enough for the rest of the crew to hear, too.

“Did you ever see folk swimming in the water?”

“No.”

“Did you see or hear anything at all that would suggest sirens, male or otherwise, were behind your sailors missing?”

“Not a single thing, Captain.”

“There,” I say, turning back to Enwen.

“But—he could be wrong,” Enwen says.

I want to snap at him. I want to throw him in a cell below and be done with it. But I can’t have the crew worried into stupid mistakes. I try to think of what Alosa would do.

Despite how ridiculous the words are, I say, “Are you saying you don’t trust the word of your best friend?”

Kearan tenses beside me, but he says nothing.

Enwen gets defensive. “Of course I trust his word! I’d trust Kearan with my life.”

“Then follow your orders, and don’t chalk this up to sirens again. I need everyone fully alert if we’re to get through this. Lives depend on us. Are you dependable, Enwen?”

“I’d like to think so, Captain.”

“Then fight your mental impulses and be the hero we need everyone to be right now.”

“Aye-aye.”

“Back to work,” I say, and the words are for everyone, including Kearan.

The two of us return to the aftercastle, and Kearan takes the helm back from Dimella, who can barely see over the pegs.

“That was crafty,” Kearan says as he looks out at the dark sea in front of us. “But did you have to encourage him by using me?”

It is with great effort that I don’t let any expression show on my face. “If I didn’t want everyone on the ship falling into panic? Yes, yes, I did. I don’t put your feelings before the safety of the whole crew.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you should.”

“Then what were you suggesting?” I ask, though I really don’t care.

“You enjoy irritating me.”

I don’t answer, because I know it will irritate him further.





Chapter 8





A FEW MORE DAYS go by without change.

And then the water starts churning.

Bubbles float to the surface. The water turns gray. I’d think it a whale feeding, except there are no whales to be found, and the tumultuous water follows the ship, rather than staying in one place. The state of the water doesn’t affect our pace. The wind carries us true as ever, but that water is concerning everyone on the ship.

“It’s a bad omen,” Enwen says.

“It’s air in the water,” I shoot back. “Even you should know what makes bubbles.”

I stand on the deck among the new night crew, our ship lit up like a tavern at night. Kearan’s at the helm. Enwen’s seated on the ground with his back to the exterior wall to my rooms.

“Maybe the sea is warning us to turn around,” Enwen says. “Air doesn’t follow ships, Captain. There’s no explaining that.”

He’s got me there.

“Until Alosa orders us back, we stay our course. We’re taking precautions, Enwen. No one else has gone missing. And need I remind you that you volunteered for this mission?”

“Of course I did. You think I’d miss out on witnessing this?” He does some weird motion with his hand, gesturing over his shoulder at Kearan and then to me.

I’m so glad he finds our arguments entertaining.

When I say nothing, not taking his bait, he continues. “You know, your epic romance?”

My whole being freezes up, but I shift my head toward him in an owllike way.

“Don’t look at me like that, Captain. You know something is happening there. But don’t think about it. Just let it naturally evolve.”

“I am not romancing anyone, Enwen.”

“Well, not on purpose.”

“Not on accident, either.”

“You can’t help it. Everything you say, everything you do—it just draws you nearer to him. There’s no stopping it.”

“I can stop anything with a well-aimed knife. Including your mouth, Enwen.”

“I’m shutting up now, Captain.”

Kearan steers us around larger and larger chunks of ice the farther we go. At one point, he threads two large icebergs, sailing between them with practiced ease.

And the churning water beneath the ship calms.

Until we reach the other side of the strait. Then the bubbles resume once more.

I climb the aftercastle, positioning myself next to Kearan.

“It’s a beastie of some sort,” I tell him.

“Aye,” he agrees.

“Too big to fit through that strait we sailed.”

“It had to go around, which means it’s sticking close to the water’s surface. Something that has to breathe regularly?”

“We’ve seen nothing crest the waves.”