Page 78 of Of the Stars and Sea

Grayson calls out to him, and that’s when I recognize the name—Flynn. He’s the man I tested when I first walked the plank to board theCaelestiaweeks ago. Flynn moves to stand and I find myself shouting “No!” at the same time Grayson does.

My heart lurches into my throat.He’s going to die.

The ship dips to my left and I know we’re about to be swarmed with another swell as the deck slowly starts to level out. Grayson is closer to the edge now, keeping low as he reaches out for the man.

“Don’t stand!” I hear Grayson tell him. “Get low and crawl forward!”

Worry and anticipation lick up my spine as Grayson continues to edge forward, trying to help his mate before he makes another move out of fear and ends up killing himself in the process.

The ship starts to shift again, the right side pulling down low. All it would take is for us to hit a band of reef, or for the ship to turn, and Grayson could be thrown off the side as well.

A desperate plea burns on my tongue. I want to call out for him, to tell him to leave the man to his fate—but I can’t. Not when a distraction could mean the difference between life and death. So, I watch with bated breath and pray to the heavens that Flynn listens and Grayson is able to pull him back to safety.

My feet almost slip out from under me as the wave makes its final pass beneath us and the right-side railing of theCaelestianearly hits the water.

Just as the side shoots back up, Flynn rises to his feet but . . .No! Oh gods, no!

His momentum is off and he takes a step backward. And another. Then the back of his legs hit the railing and he starts to fall over.

Still clinging to the pillar, I reach out with my other hand and scream as if I can summon some ancient power that pulls him forward. But I ampowerless. Like so many moments in my life, I am forced to bear witness to something terrible and have no ability to stop it.

Then I see Grayson move faster than any living thing should be able to, grabbing his mate by the wrist and yanking him forward hard. My lungs catch fire as I let out a shuddering breath once Flynn crashes to the deck and Grayson grabs the back collar of his tunic, pulling him toward the center of the ship.

Grayson reaches one of the loose ropes secured to the base of the mainmast and ties it around Flynn’s waist. Meanwhile,Flynn stays low to the ground, on his shaking hands and knees, and I can’t tell if it’s the rain or tears in his eyes.

Relief shudders through me when Grayson makes his way back to my side. Shielding me from the rain, he moves both his hands above my head and wraps them around the pillar. His wet tunic clings to his skin, revealing the distinct outlines of his abdomen. Even now, I feel my blood grow warm from the sight of him and it has nothing to do with the fever coursing through my veins.

“That was close.” I wipe the rainwater from my eyes.

“Too close,” Grayson agrees. “Flynn was recruited when we were last at Silvermoon Landing. This is his first time enduring a storm.”

“It was almost his last.”

Grayson nods. “He let fear win and it almost cost him his life.”

I remember how he cornered me several nights ago at the bar in Harrick’s inn, forcing me to face my own fears—the ones I’ve buried the deepest. As I look at him now, I can’t help but wonder whathisfears are. The ones that keep him awake at night, despite his best efforts to keep them at bay.

Or maybe he has none at all. Maybe he has seen too much in his long life.

“Come on.” He extends his hand toward me. “We need to get upstairs to the quarterdeck.”

Taking his hand, he puts me in front of himself, keeping his hands on my shoulders the entire way. Crouching down low, I move carefully up the stairs, gripping tightly onto the banister.

Zaos is waiting for us at the center of the quarterdeck. Fatigue threatens to pull me to the floor of the deck, but I manage to loop my arm through the railing and lean heavily on the slick wood as another swell rolls us from side to side.

“The anchor broke loose!” Zaos yells over the roar of the rain and wind.

“We know! We could feel the line snap from inside the cabin. We need to—” Grayson is cut off by the sound of screaming men. All three of us look forward onto the main deck that Grayson and I just came from. Toward the bow, there’s a group of five men crowded together pointing east. Shielding my eyes from the rain with my hand, I squint and try to make out what they’re pointing at.

My breath catches in my throat when my eyes land on twin waterspouts dancing around each other.

“Do you see them?” I ask, voice swallowed up by the storm.

“I see them,” Grayson says, coming up behind me, caging me in with his arms as he leans his hands onto the railing.

“We’re sitting ducks,” Zaos says. “The wind is too strong for us to release the sails. It’ll rip them to shreds.”

Monitoring the movements of the waterspouts, I gage the wind’s trajectory.

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