Water & Storm Country

Barney helps me to my feet, loops one of myarms over his shoulders as I stumble, my feet like jellyfish. “Thenwhy didn’t you?” I snap, a flash of anger hitting me.

Surprisingly, Hobbs smiles at me. “BecauseI’d rather find out what the admiral will have in store foryou.”

My father. I try to swallow down the unwantedsour taste of fear that fills my mouth, but it sticks in my throat,lingers. I stare at Hobbs, trying to hide my fear. “Until then,stay out of sight until you’re called for,” Hobbs says with asneer. “Clearly you’re not needed up here.”

Barney grabs my arm, says, “We need to getyou cleaned up.”

I know it’s an excuse to run, to hide, butI’ll take it. With Barney acting as my crutch, I limp away, hatingthe way my heartbeat thunders in my chest when I see the rest ofthe ship:

The collapsed mast hangs eerily over the sideof the ship, angled like a plank into the water, leaving a trail ofsplinters in puddles behind it; half of the railing is bent anddestroyed, broken under the weight of the mast; dripping whitesails cover a full quarter of the ship, swirling with a tangle ofropes; barrels are shattered, spilling their contents—rice andbeans and recently caught fish—onto the rain-slick deck.

But despite the significant level ofdestruction, that’s not what causes my heart to pound, to speed up.No, it’s the people who shame me. Men and women, young and old,bedraggled and half-drowned and bone-weary, hanging on what’s leftof the railing and on each other, staring at me—and not withrespect, like they used to. Watching me with narrow eyes full ofaccusation.

For I abandoned them. No…it’s more than that.I abandoned them to save a bilge rat.

I should stay above, help repair the damagedship. But I don’t. The storm has passed, the sea is calm, and we’resafe for now. Hobbs is right: I’m not needed or wanted above.

Head down, I walk past them.

~~~

“What will they do, Barney?” I ask.

My humble steward sets a hot mug of tea onthe table next to me and snatches my sopping clothes that lay in ahaphazardly discarded pile on the floor.

Barney doesn’t answer, just stares at me withtired eyes.

“What will they do to her?” I say,modifying my original question to what I meant in the first place.Although I’m not so selfless as to not care what happens to me, I’mtrying not to think about that, to focus on Jade, whose life hangsin the balance once more. I’m not sure what was more dangerous forher: being tossed on the ocean’s waves of fortune, or being tossedback on deck by Lieutenant Hobbs.

Barney answers this time, but grudgingly,slowly. “She…was…where she shouldn’t have been.”

“She was scared. We all were. She was tryingto repair the torn sail and got spooked, went up when she should’vegone down. Should she be punished for that?” My questions aren’tfor Barney’s ears, but I ask them anyway, speaking my thoughtsaloud, testing them out before I have to use them for real on myfather.

“You went after her too soon.” His wordspound like nails in a dead officer’s coffin, just before it’s setalight and pushed floating across the Deep Blue.

I disobeyed a superior officer. I abandonedthe ship when they needed me the most. I climbed the mast to save aservant girl, before it was even clear that she required saving,putting my own life at risk.

And she will be blamed for all of it—that’sthe worst part. Sure, I might be punished, receive some harsh wordsfrom my father, perhaps sent to the new worst-performing ship inthe fleet.

But Jade will be…

My father is likely going to…

Knowing his temper he’ll…

(I can’t even think it.)

“My life is bloody well over,” I say.

Barney sighs, shakes his head, but he doesn’tcontradict me. Because he knows. He saw her peg me with the brush,saw the burning desire in my eyes not to tell anyone. He saw mespending hours with her repairing the sails, talking more than anyself-respecting lieutenant would ever talk in the presence of abilge rat. He saw what I did today. He knows she means a great dealto me, and if she dies, I will die a little with her. Maybe morethan a little.

Finally, he says, “You don’t know he’ll killher.”

“I do.”

“For your sake, I hope you’re wrong.”

I roll onto my side and pull the sheets overmy head. I hear Barney close the door. I’m alone again. My teagrows cold as I lay in bed, unable to sleep, my thoughts ru

I’ll die before I’ll let him kill her.

~~~

Eventually, I must have fallen asleep,however, because I jerk awake when I hear pounding on my cabindoor. I blink away the churning waves and rising bubbles that cloudmy vision, the last lingering remnants of an already forgottendream.

There’s a commotion outside my room. Angryvoices. But still the pounding continues.

“Yes?” I say, rubbing at the bubbles in myeyes.

Hobbs pushes through in a burst, but Cain’snot far behind him. “Leave him alone,” Cain says, pushingHobbs.

Hobbs shoves back, says, “I’m afraid that’snot a possibility. I have a message from your father. You are toappear before him at once, not as his son, but as a witness to anunfortunate crime involving a bilge rat girl.” Every word is anasally sneer, filled with sick joy.

“I said I would tell him,” Caingrowls.

“You…weren’t given the order,” Hobbssays. Giving Cain a final shove, he exits, slamming the cabindoor.

“What the ruddy hell happened?” Cain sayswhen we’re alone.

I can’t tell him, not when he helped me killa man to save her once already. And now I’ve gone and thrown thatsacrifice away. For what? To be forced to watch while she’s fed tothe sharp-tooths?

I stare at my feet, which are sticking outfrom beneath the blanket.

“They’re saying you saved her during thestorm,” Cain says.

He doesn’t mention any details, but I cantell he knows everything. His eyes sparkle with pride.

“I’m no hero,” I say.

“That remains to be seen,” Cain says, hiswords prying my eyes away from my feet.

“What’s going to happen?” I ask.

Cain answers with a ster

“But what if…”

(…the consequence is Jade being killed?)

“You’ll know what to do,” Cain says, readingmy thoughts.

Do I? What will I do? Fight him? Dive inafter her? I can’t see it happen, can’t see another person I careabout end up overboard.

(Blood in the water.)

“I don’t,” I say, sounding childish even tomy own ears.

“You will,” Cain says, his tone now more likea pillow than a plank. “When the time comes.”

He leaves and I dress quickly, strugglingwith the buttons and with getting my arms and legs in the rightholes. My hands are shaking.

Heart pounding in my throat, I climb thesteps to the quarterdeck. Sunshine hits me full in the eyes when Iemerge from below. Where were you yesterday? I think,cursing the skies for warring with the Deep Blue. If only they’dmade peace, everything would be the same and Hobbs would be leavingsoon.

But would things be the same? Howcould they? Knowing what I know, feeling what I feel: nothing canever be the same. Eventually I’d have to make the hardest choice ofmy life. The war between the ocean and the sky has only forced meto decide sooner.

The entire fleet is here, each ship anchoredand still in the calm waters. Although none of the vessels wereunscathed by the power of the storm—their sails hanging limply,their railings splintered and chipped, their decks a mess ofshattered barrels and snapped ropes—the Mayhem seemed to take theworst of it, the only ship with a broken mast.