Page 40 of Shiver Me Satyr

I held onto the helm as long as I could. A captain goes down with her ship, so I rode the wheel all the way to the bottom of the sea. One minute I’m reaching for Flint, and the next I’m tumbling in the riptide. The last time I lost control under the waves, I had gills.

My instincts scream at me to calmly open my gills and allow the ocean water to feed my air-starved body…but I’m human. I choke and cough as saltwater fills all the tubes and sacks within me. Coral and splintered planks scrape my limbs and back, threatening to steal my clothes. My hair tangles in debris and around boulders that hold me under like an anchor.

I can’t die. Not here. Not now.

Gathering my hair in one hand and yanking my short sword from my waist, I slice off my red tresses in one large arc. Happy with my sacrifice, the sea pushes me to the surface and carries me to the shore. My mind winks in and out of consciousness as pain wakes me every time I pass out. I roll over shards of shells and balls of seaweed until I slam into an unmovable mass of…

“Chub?”

“She’s alive!” Shouts my quartermaster.

The answering cheers pierce my brain and bring up what I collected into my stomach from the seafloor.

“I’ve counted heads,” Greenhorn says as he drags me to my feet. Damn, why are there three of him? Is it my eyes or my brain that’s addled? “We’re missing Gunter, Iyla, and Flint. What should we do first?”

What do they do? What should we do? What is first? The question rearranges itself in my head, but I still can’t make heads or tails of it. What’s wrong with me? Oh, here we go again!

I bend at the waist and throw up a second time. It’s mostly saltwater…but I think that fish is still alive. Yep, it’s flopping around. Definitely have fish living in me. Naturally, I’m a kraken. Nope…not anymore…my arm pinches and I drop to my hands and knees. I grab the sand in handfuls and release it to ground myself. Breathe deeply through my lungs…yes…lungs…because I’m human. I have lungs, and for some reason, I survived.

Why did I fight to live?

For him…Flint….born Hybris…claimed as Flint….

Images of him lying on the deck in a daze flood my mind. I reached for him. He smiled at me…that smile when he’s pleased to see me. Not the teasing one, the genuine one that tells me he loves me. Really loves me…and all my prickly moods and difficult attitudes. Why isn’t he comforting me? Where is he?

Oh…Greenhorn’s report makes sense and doesn’t at the same time.

“Flint isn’t on the beach?” I half ask, half say.

A cry of agony rings in my ears. My heart must be devastated. Wait, I didn’t make that noise…

“Captain, Catalina needs to go. We must get her to Chevelle’s hut. Her baby’s time is now,” says Eze. Were his eyes always that wide? He must be scared…scared for Catalina…Catty!

“I think she hit the daylights out of her head. Take Catty to the witch. I’m needed here if we’re to find Flint, Ilya, and Gunter,” Chub says as he swims from my vision.

“Flint’s not on the beach,” I repeat. “Catty needs the witch.”

“Avast ye! You’re as worthless as legs on a fish,” Chub grouses. “Eze go! And if my family isn’t in perfect condition when we’re reunited, you'd better disappear. I’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth—that witch, too. You tell her. She may have the spirits on her side, but I’m not scared of them. I will bring death and destruction to this island, the likes of which would make the devil take heed. Do you understand me?”

“No need,” Eze says. “What if Greenhorn and you go to the witch? I can handle this.”

“I thought you were in a tizzy to reunite with the villagers. You’ll abandon their rescue efforts once I’m out of sight,” Chub says, wagging his finger. My eyes follow it until my insides churn again. Luckily, I’m empty.

“I can’t abandon my current family for my past,” Eze says, rubbing the back of his neck. “You have my word as a pirate; I’ll be here when you return.”

“That may not be enough,” Chub murmurs. He mumbles something to Eze that I miss. The rest of their conversation fades into the fog consuming my brain.

“Avast ye, lassie, you’ve got to recover your wits, and fast,” Chub yells into my face. He’s stooped to my level to placehis bacon face in my view. “Your pupils shrink when I move, so your brain isn’t permanently addled.” He shakes his head as he stands again.

“She needs a drink or three,” Chub says with his hand clasping Eze’s shoulder. “First cask of grog to hit the shores. First one. Crack it open and dunk her head into it…and don’t mention Flint again. Unless he walks out of the foam like Venus, she’s not to know.”

“Aye! Aye! Quartermaster!” Eze yells at an ear-splitting volume. “But, sir, who is Venus?”

“Blimey, so much empty space must be in your melon head,” Chub says, nudging me with his knee. “Recover, Captain…and that’s an order.”

I try to give him a smile and a wave, but the result is a little crazed. He shakes his head and pulls the cart away, revealing a pile of sacks untouched by the sea. How are they dry? How did Chub get a cart ashore? Did he use it to pull Catalina? Why were there so many plants in the cart with Catalina? Are they important? Do we worship them? Visions of Chub swimming ashore, dragging a cart of trees, make me giggle.

“I found Gretta,” Hash announces over my head. She moans as her body is laid next to me in the sand. “What are orders?”

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