Page 79 of Of the Stars and Sea

“We have no other choice. We have to get as far away from them as possible or there is no chance in us evading them!” Grayson orders.

“Wait.” I turn around, placing a hand on his forearm. “We can use the foremast to steer ourselves away. With the force of these winds, we won’t need to risk the main rig. We just need to get far enough away to give the waterspouts enough time to burn out.”

Grayson’s eyes roam the main deck and I know he’s assessing the state of his ship and whether or not his men will be able to raise the sails in time. A few more moments pass and I try to ignore the growing weakness in my muscles. Even Grayson’s wet coat feels too heavy on my haggard frame, but I stand up a little straighter to ensure neither him nor Zaos see just how tired I am and demand I go back downstairs.

“What’s the order, Captain?” Zaos asks, his words clipped with urgency.

Grayson looks down at me, his eyes searching back and forth between mine. I raise my chin a little higher and he smiles.

“You heard her. Raise the foremast. Let’s try to get around them.”

From the corner of my eye, I see Zaos grow eerily still. Turning toward him, I see that he’s staring at me. But not with the usual malice.

No. This time, he eyes me with blatant curiosity, almost as though he’s trying to figure out what it is about me that has drawn his captain in.

Smirking, I figure it’s a win. At least he’s not unsheathing his throwing knives to bury it in my spine.

Cupping his hands around his mouth, Zaos calls the order. Grayson’s men activate as they start to raise the foremast. Digging my nails into the wood of the railing, I watch as the sails whip wildly in the wind. One of the men gets knocked to his knees almost at once, sliding over the rain-wet deck and careening toward the edge of the ship—but the rope tied around his waist goes taught, keeping him safely on board.

We all watch as the wind fills the sails and theCaelestiastarts moving forward—right into the path of the waterspouts.

“Steer her port side!” Grayson yells to his helmsman. I look down and see him spinning the wheel as quickly as he can and once it stops, he leans into it with his entire body, keeping her steady as we sail high over a large swell.

“Brace yourselves!” Zaos calls out and I feel Grayson press his body into my back, pinning me against the railing. The men below us latch themselves onto whatever they can find and hold tight as we soar over the cresting wave and into the gap.

Bending my knees, I ready myself for the impact. It comes swift and hard, shaking the entire hull like an earthquake. Asplitting pain sears through my jaw as my teeth clatter together and I feel my feet slip on the deck beneath me, but Grayson’s embrace keeps me from falling down.

All I can do is watch as two of Grayson’s men slide toward the edge of the ship, their fates in their own hands now, as we start to crest the next wave. The sails strain and the sound of a cracking whip pierces the air as the foremast starts to splinter.

“She isn’t going to hold!” Zaos says, lowering himself as we reach the top of the swell again.

“She’ll hold!” I yell into the onslaught of rain.

Another loud crack sounds and the waterspouts shift toward us, whirling and winding their way around one another as they do. Muffled screams and hollers come from the deck below us as we crash over the wave, the hull shuttering beneath us once again. But I don’t look. Not at the chaos below when death is about to descend upon us.

Grayson moves his left arm across my chest, pulling me even closer to him, and I know he sees it too. It doesn’t matter the strength of the wind and whether or not the foremast will hold when the twisters are headed right for us.

All I can do is watch as the twin spouts rip apart the ocean’s surface.

One breath.

Two.

They edge closer, spinning even faster and closer together. A ripple runs through the fabric of the sails as their chaotic wind starts to pull at us.

“Come on,” I whisper. “Come on!”

Grayson tightens his hold on me and I feel the scruff of his jaw scrape against my cheek. “This will not be our end, Little Pearl.”

As soon as his words are spoken, the tornados start to slow. The spinning water at the ends of their tails falters and they startto disappear into the dark grey clouds above them until there is nothing left. No trace is left of the destruction they amassed upon the water’s surface.

My shoulders drop and I nearly collapse onto the railing as relief surges through my tired bones.

“Good call,” I hear Zaos say to my right. There’s something new written across his face. Something I’ve never seen before. Appreciation perhaps? His gaze travels upward and I know he’s looking at Grayson now. “She’s a good navigator, Captain.”

The rain almost drowns out his words and I shift in Grayson’s embrace to watch as Zaos moves down the staircase, clutching onto the railing as he goes.

Spinning around in his arms, Grayson keeps his hand around my waist and the other braced on the railing. “Did he just give me a compliment?”

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