Page 69 of Sea of Stars

Herovinci stepped around the wheel to the edge of the quarterdeck. "Gentlemen!" he called.

Some of the sailors looked up. Some didn't.

"Gentlemen, we've spotted a storm ahead. But if we can make it through..."

"We should turn back," mumbled one of the deck hands under his breath.

"You're going to get us all killed," added another. "This is a fool's errand."

Enzo stepped to Herovinci's side. "Your captain wasn't finished speaking yet." His voice boomed across the deck. The entire crew immediately stood at attention.

"If we can make it through," continued Herovinci, "land will be waiting for us. We've seen a pelican."

There were again murmurs among the crew, but this time they were murmurs of excitement.

"Now, let's show this storm what we're made of and rewrite the history books." Herovinci was no great orator, but he was satisfied with his speech. For the first time in his life, he finally felt like he had his men's respect.

"What's the plan?" asked Enzo. "Over or under?"

"Over. We'd take on too much rain going under."

Enzo nodded. "Increase altitude!" he yelled as he hurried down the stairs, barking orders to every sailor he passed. Within seconds, the deck was alive with sailors tying ropes, dodging beams, and greasing gears.

The storm was upon them before they could gain enough altitude to fly over it. Herovinci could feel the moisture on his cheeks as the thick grey clouds blotted out the moon. The wind started to pick up. Herovinci had grown accustomed to the wind blowing in his face as the airship sailed eastward during their journey, but this wind was coming from all directions with an intensity he had never experienced. He pulled the thick leather collar of his jacket tight around his neck and tied one of his hands to the wheel to ensure he wouldn't be blown overboard.

Enzo fought to make it up the stairs to the quarterdeck. The wind blew his usually perfect hair into a wild mess and puffed up his coat as if it was the main sail of a ship. He gripped the handrail and leaned forward. Every step was a struggle. It was as if an invisible hand was trying to yank him into the sky.

"These winds are too strong," yelled Enzo. "We can't keep this up for much longer!"

"How much..." Herovinci's sentence was cut short by the crash of thunder. A powerful wind gust from the port side of the ship brought with it the first raindrops of the storm. Enzo just barely grabbed the railing in time to avoid being blown away. One of the sailors on the deck was not so fortunate. The sailor caught a rope as he was lifted off his feet, but the rope snapped. The noise from his scream never reached Herovinci's ears. It was swept overboard as easily as the sailor's body, like a mere feather in the breeze.

Within seconds, every surface of the deck was slick with water.

"Rusted pipes!" yelled Enzo. "That was one of the ropes holding the balloon."

Herovinci squinted through the relentless rain to survey the damage. It wasn't ideal, but as long as no other ropes snapped, the ship would hold. He looked port and starboard to see how the other two ships in his fleet were faring, but there was no chance of locating them through the oily darkness. He could barely see to the bow of his own ship, much less all the way to the others.

Then a dark shadow in the corner of his eye caught his attention. A particularly dense cloud? No. The hull of one of his other ships? No, not that either.

"Did you see that?" he asked.

"What?" Enzo yelled.

Another lightning strike illuminated the clouds just enough for Herovinci to see it clearly: the peak of a mountain.

"We need to increase altitude," said Herovinci.

"What?" yelled Enzo again.

"Mountain!" shouted Herovinci. "We need to climb!"

"You steer. I'll give the order." Enzo jumped down the stairs and sprinted across the deck, shouting the order as he went.

Herovinci gripped the wheel with both hands and prepared to make a sudden turn, but he knew such a maneuver would be useless. With their current speed in these winds, any course change drastic enough to avoid the mountain would put too much of a strain on the already damaged rigging.

Herovinci shielded his eyes from the torrential rain with one hand as he squinted up ahead to get a better look at the jagged mountain. They were headed directly for the highest peak. Even when Herovinci felt the ship pitch upwards, he knew that they were still doomed.

Most men might have prayed to a god, but Herovinci knew that gods weren't real. Men lived in a physical world. Everything was controlled by equations. Some he understood, others he didn't. But whether or not they had yet been discovered, the equations existed. And they left no room for Arwin or Wazir or any other god to interfere. But maybe, just maybe...