Page 19 of Veiled Fate
“You can’t go down there,” she shouted in my ear as I struggled against her grip. “It’s suicide.”
Panic bubbled up. Where was he? Why hadn’t he come out yet?
Behind me, the ship shook under a mighty blow. Andi let go of me as we whirled away from the flames as they leaped into the darkening sky. We searched for the source of the impact.
It wasn’t hard to find. Ten feet behind me, the deck planks were bowing upward from the force. A mighty shout rivaling the noise of the fire was followed by a shattering of wood.
Rushing to the spot, we fell to our knees. I grabbed a bulging board and yanked, putting all my strength into it. The toughfilmorewood resisted at first, but when Andi added her strength, it started to give way, splintering and cracking. Other sailors arrived, and together with Kiel slamming upward from below, we ripped apart the deck, freeing him from the trapped confines.
“Come on,” he said to both of us as I flung my arms around him. “No time to waste. Whatever this fire is, it has a mind of its own.”
Flames appeared in the hole behind him, already eating their way up through the thick deck. As Kiel had said, it was burning far faster than it should. The three of us ran for the edge of the ship and followed the sailors as they leaped overboard and swam for the small boats.
True to his word, the captain waited for us all to be clear before he, too, dove over the edge.
Strong hands were waiting for us, pulling us out of the water and into the boats. Kiel and I ended up in one while Andi waved reassuringly from the other.
“Thank you,” I said gratefully as I was deposited somewhat roughly. I ignored that and the muted looks of anger cast my way.
There was no sense in blaming the men for being upset with me. It was only logical for them to think that we had somehow caused the fire ruining their livelihood. They’d risked much to get us out of Arcadia, and how had we repaid them? By burning their ship.
My excuses meant little in our precarious situation. With the speed the ship was burning, it would slip under the water in minutes, leaving us in near darkness thanks to the setting sun and the incoming storm. Although the fire would be seen for miles, perhaps even as far as the shore, there would be no hope for anyone who saw the fire to pinpoint our location in time.
Not with the winds already beginning to blow us north across the lake.
“I’m sorry about your ship, captain,” Kiel grunted as the fishing trawler listed heavily to one side, beginning its journey to the bottom of the lake. “The rebellion will make good on your loss. You have my word. I know it won’t replacethatship, but at least you won’t be withoutaship for long. That I promise you.”
“Thank you,” the captain said, much of his anger easing at the clearly unexpected generosity.
“And I do mean anewship if that’s what you wish,” Kiel said. “Not just new to you. Unless, of course, that’s your preference. I know some fishermen are leery of unused things.”
The captain chuckled, looking around at his men. “We’re not of the superstitious sort ourselves. If it’s all the same to you, I think we’ll take that new boat.”
“Good,” Kiel said as the mood of the men around us brightened at the idea of getting a brand-new ship straight from the shipyards.
Lightning flickered off to the south, while in the west, the sun was dropping low in the sky behind a curtain of gauzy clouds. A dozen or seconds later, the rumble of thunder reached us, followed shortly by a gust of air as the wind picked up.
“Now, let’s just hope we survive tonight to be able to use it,” the captain said.
The men in both boats shifted uncomfortably at his ominous words.
Chapter Ten
Rain lashed at us while lightning crisscrossed the sky like a crazed web of cracks in a glass pane. The slow roll of thunder had long since been replaced by thecrashof vicious thunderclaps almost directly overhead.
We huddled in the boats, soaked to the bone. I wore Kiel’s pants and a shirt courtesy of one of the other sailors, but they were of no protection against the downpour that had been raging for hours. As the boats rocked wildly in the waves, I groaned and tried to slink a little deeper as my stomach mimicked the twisting, roiling motion.
“Listen,” the captain said sharply, sitting up.
“To what? The thunder?” someone asked.
“No.” The captain looked around sharply, then pointed. “There. Breakers! Up. Everyone up. Let’s go, let’s go!”
Men stirred from their misery at his shouts, shaking off the hours of cramped conditions as the boats were carried at the mercy of the storm and Lake Arcadia. We hadn’t seen a single ship before the storm hit us, and we’d begun to swirl into the depths of despair, just waiting for our boat to capsize.
But with the sound of breakers nearby, hope was renewed, flickering to light.
“That way,” the captain ordered as the oars were broken out for the first time. Men grunted from the sides of both boats as they dipped their wooden charges into the lake, muscles straining to keep themselves balanced as they fought against the wild churn of the choppy waters.
