Page 26 of Dragons' Bride
"Looks like we’ve met our first rift storm," I say, hoping I sound as brave as I intend to. I don’t feel brave at all though. Especially since Nora’s face is draining of color.
"Um, no. I don't think that was the wind."
She points to the lower of the windows, the one fully submerged beneath the water. It takes me a moment to work through the shadows that I’m seeing. A shudder runs through me. “Are those… worms?” I ask, though calling the horse-sized tubular creatures with maws full of sharp teethwormsseems a disservice to both.
"Piranhas," Nora says with a mirroring shudder. "They come up from the gloom here."
"Disgusting." That was an understatement. There are at least a dozen of them, all swarming around and making waves.
"They are dumb and perpetually hungry,” Nora says. “And their movements create currents. But they don’t go after ships. We are big and not edible. Now, if you were to end up in the water, especially if you were bleeding, well –"
“I got the idea. No need for details.” I want to look away from the worms, but I can’t. Especially given how active they are. As if aware that they are being watched, the piranhas suddenly turn to face us, their mouths open with rows of needle-sharp teeth. I can see the pink inside of their maws, which is disturbibg in a whole new way.
I flinch as the whole school of them suddenly starts swimming toward us at full speed. "I thought you said they don't go after ships?" I ask as the piranhas show no sign of slowing their approach. I swear they can see me. That their whole school is here just to munch on my flesh bit by bit.
"They don't," Nora says, but she doesn't sound nearly as certain as before. "At least they never –"
One of the worms shoots ahead of the others and rams right into the window I'm standing at. The ship shudders and I get a full glimpse of the maw up close. Not just one ring of teeth but three. My stomach churns, and I step away from the glass. Another piranha joins the first, slamming their heads into the window. A third.
“Bloody hell,” I whisper. “That’s not supposed to happen, is it?”
“No.”
The hull and glass that's between us and the carnivorous worms no longer feels safe. I stumble back, gripping the bulkheads as the ship recoils from the impact.
"Nora!" I point to a small leak between the planking, water now trickling to the floor. The piranhas have managed to crack the wood. Not good. Really, very not good.
Another worm hits the hull. The window. Again. Again. The water from the leak continues to pour onto the floor.
I grab Nora’s arm. "We need to go."
"We c-can’t,” she stutters. “This cabin is made to be the safest part of the ship.”
"Do you feel safe?" I demand incredulously. "Because I feel like I'm about to be canned warm food. And we need to tell someone there is a leak in the bloody hull."
"It's not that big of a –" Nora cuts off as the trickle of water turns into a steady pour, the puddle of water on the floor now creeping to cover the whole cabin. I don’t want to know what will happen to the Phoenix if it takes on much more water.
"We need to tell someone," Nora agrees.
I yank open the door and run to the deck, with Nora at my heels, bemoaning that the deck is the last place the captain wants us when the ship is at quarters. I know that too, but none of the drills we’ve done accounted for a pile of giant underwater worms breaking the planking below the waterline, or the ship coming apart at the seams.
The Phoenix is rocking violently as Nora and I climb through the final hatch. A part of me is distantly impressed with my body for being able to negotiate the ladder without falling, which I couldn’t do on even a stable ship when I’d first came aboard. Maybe Quinton’s brutality did accomplish something – though it will be a cold day in hell before I acknowledge as much to the asshole aloud.
As I climb onto the deck, the salt-laden spray stings my cheeks and eyes, the briny scent of the ocean heavy in the purplish air. The piranhas might be battering the ship, but so is the unnatural wind that howls its fury together with the sea’s answering roar.
Sailors and officers are rushing about, boots and bare feet thudding against the damp wooden planks in a synchronized dance. Tavias, Quinton, and Hauck are among the men, hauling and helping as they can. On the quarter deck, Cyril stands beside Captain Dane. The dragon prince’s shoulders are spread wide, his hands raised and glowing with magic. He looks like a god made flesh, fighting to calm the seas. Despite the chaos, I can’t help but pause and stare at Cyril’s power and beauty. And at the fact that, despite his concentration on the sea, he seems to be watching the whole ship with no less understanding than the captain standing beside him.
Then I hear acrackas a rope breaks, and my heart returns to a gallop. I have no idea what just broke, but nothing breaking in a storm can be good.
"Lose the fore-royal!" Cyril calls, his voice somehow penetrating through the tempest. The sailors in the rigging scurry to obey, their hands quick and deft as they rig the sail to catch the wind. The ship feels steadier the moment it fills and Dane tips his hat to Cyril. Interesting.
With the ship no longer in imminent danger of capsizing, Nora and I are finally noticed. Tavias and Captain Dane see us at the same time, both demanding we go back down this instant. Tavias’s shout is a great deal more heated and colorful than the captain's chilly order.
Holding on to a rope with one hand, I raise the other in a placating gesture. "There is a leak. The safe cabin is filling up with water,” I shout, trying to be heard over the howls. “It’s the piranhas. They are ramming into the hull. Or were.”
I can’t feel the impact now. I hope that’s a good thing, but something inside me warns that they didn’t just give up out of the goodness of their slimy hearts.
Captain Dane takes my report with a calm nod of the head, as if I’d just said the galley ran out of milk.
