Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 93948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“Captain?” asks Eyal.
“I’m thinking.” I scrub my hand over my face again. No good options. Well, we’ve faced no good options before. I straighten and turn back to them both. “North. Now. We can’t afford to sail any closer to the ships trying to pen us in. Especially when we don’t know which ships those are.” Between Siobhan and me, I’m confident that we have information on most of the ships in the Cŵn Annwn’s fleet. We just need to know who we’re dealing with, and then we can form a proper plan to flee or attack.
Really, though, fleeing is the only option. An attack will slow us down, and even if we survive, it will cut the distance between Morrigan’s pursuit significantly. That’s more dangerous than anything.
Eyal nods. He’s tense as he guides the ship north, a slow turn that causes our sails to dip before the crew readjusts and they snap full again. Within seconds, we’re skimming over the surface of the waves.
The awful feeling in my stomach worsens. We have a fight on our hands, one way or another. “I’m going to check on the crew. Give me a few.”
“Might want to tell them to batten things down,” Poet says, eyes on the sky. “I suspect we’re in for a rough ride.”
“Poet.” I inject a level of charm into my voice that I certainly do not feel. “Keep talking like that and I’ll think you’re sweet on me. A little bit of optimism never hurt anyone.”
Her only response is a tight smile. It’s enough. I go. It feels like so much of my time as captain is spent choosing between one bad option and another even worse option. Understanding that doesn’t make me have any more sympathy for the late Hedd, but damn if my stress level hasn’t risen significantly since I have an entire crew’s safety resting on my shoulders.
An hour later, Siobhan finds me in the process of tying down whatever I can find on the deck. In the time since we turned north, the wind has picked up, slamming at the ship from side to side, causing it to shudder even with my crew’s best efforts. Despite that, Siobhan moves easily. Her long hair whips about her face, obscuring her features. Every few seconds, the light catches her eyes and they shine eerily in the growing light. “Why are we headed north?”
I could remind her that I’m captain and I don’t have to answer to her, but she’s the leader of the fucking rebellion, so I guess I do. I open my mouth, but pause when I realize that my foul mood is going to make me come across as an absolute asshole. If Siobhan were anyone else, I wouldn’t bother to censor myself, but I can’t completely forget the thoughts that circled my mind while I lay in my bed. So I swallow hard and moderate my tone. “We have another three ships closing in. They’re trying a prolonged pincer move. If we didn’t turn, we’d end up in between six ships, and while I’m good, not even I am that good.”
She frowns down at me and then twists to look east, where the sun is a bloody orb in the sky. I can barely see the ships our lookout spotted, but Siobhan goes tense. “How did they recover the Crimson Hag so quickly? We broke a hole in that ship that should’ve sunk it.”
“Magic, darling. What else?” In the short time between the attack on the Crimson Hag and Siobhan and the others finding our ship, I received no word of what happened on Drash. So I have no idea what magic they pulled to bring that ship out of the bay and patch it up in such a short time.
Siobhan sighs. “I don’t have to tell you that the storms are probably going to rip this ship into a thousand pieces.”
“Nope.”
“Even with your crew, we can’t—”
“I know,” I cut in gently. “But it’s a choice between a certain death and a less certain death. We have to take our chances.”
She hesitates as if she might keep arguing, but finally nods. Because she’s a leader, too. She understands that sometimes there are no good decisions, only bad ones measured in mere inches’ difference. “What do you need from me?”
I’m tempted to tell her to go belowdecks and stay safe until this is over. It’s a selfish desire. I should know better than to try to hide away those I care about to keep them safe, but I can’t stop myself from trying over and over again. It’s never worked before. It certainly won’t work now. Siobhan is a warrior. She’s going to be in the middle of the approaching fight, regardless of whether our opponent is the Cŵn Annwn or a storm. Or, if we’re unlucky, both.