The Glittering Court
Page 37
“Cedric . . . you never told me. What am I to you?”
“You are . . .” He started to lift a hand to my face and then dropped it. “Out of my reach.”
I closed my eyes for a heartbeat as I let those words burn through me. My world swayed, and not because of the storm outside. I turned away, scared to meet his eyes, and entered the room. There, a pale-faced Miss Bradley paced, surrounded in the rest of our girls.
“Thank Uros you’re here,” she said, upon seeing us. “I just heard from Master Jasper—we’re in some kind of storm. The captain said it came out of nowhere. We’re ordered to stay below.”
“I need to go back out,” Cedric said.
I’d been about to sit and shot back up. “What? It’s dangerous! Now isn’t the time to do something stupid.”
“Adelaide,” scolded Miss Bradley, obviously not aware of the informality between Cedric and me.
“No more stupid than usual,” he replied and disappeared out the door.
I looked around the room, assessing my cohorts. Some stood alone, fighting their fear in their own stoic way. Others huddled in groups, crying and wailing. I did a quick head count and noticed we were one short.
“Mira! Where’s Mira?”
Miss Bradley shook her head, clearly distracted by her own panic. “I don’t know. We’ll just have to hope she took refuge in some other room.”
A sickening feeling—intensified by the almost constant rolling and rocking of the ship—welled up within me. Mira wasn’t in some other room, I was certain of it. She’d probably been on one of her illicit above-deck excursions. She was resourceful—but would she be able to get below in time?
I strode to the door, my gait unsteady. “I have to find her. I have to make sure she’s safe.” I struggled to make my voice heard above the creaking of the ship and wind wailing outside, both of which seemed to be increasing by the minute.
“Adelaide!” exclaimed Miss Bradley. “You will most certainly not!” She took a step toward me, but a wave threw her off-balance. I moved out the door, not looking back.
Getting through the corridor was a terrifying ordeal. The lurching of the ship kept slamming me into the walls, and my progress was slow. My whole world was disordered, and I became more aware than ever that I was in a great expanse of water in a small enclosure of wood. I’d never, ever felt such fear—not even when sneaking out of Osfro. Then, I’d risked the punishment of man. This was the wrath of nature.
I finally reached one of the hatches that allowed access above. I climbed upward and was entirely unprepared for the mighty wind that slammed into me. It pushed me back, sharp and cold with stinging sleet. The sky above us was a sickly greenish-gray, and everything around me was in motion. Sailors ran, following the barked orders of the captain and first mate, grabbing lines and securing loose items. I was soaked in an instant, pushed into a post by another blast of wind. A wave that seemed to reach up to the sky rolled into us, nearly turning the ship on its side. My grip on the pole held me steady, but I saw many sure-footed sailors tossed about, screaming and desperately seeking to hold on to something—anything.
Between the haze of the blowing sleet and the stinging of my eyes, I could barely see. But then, across the deck, I caught sight of a familiar form. Mira sat on the deck, pinned by a large, broken beam that had fallen across her. She was dangerously close to the ship’s edge, giving me a sudden sense of déjà vu to all the times I’d worried about her standing by it. Without hesitation, I hurried to her—as much as I could hurry in such conditions. Most sailors didn’t even notice me in their frantic scrambling, but I got a second glance when I passed Old Lefty.
“What are you doing, girl?” he shouted. “Get below!”
I pointed to Mira. “Get help! You have to get it off her.”
“You get it off her,” he snapped back. “We’ve got to keep this ship from sinking.”
He left, and I moved swiftly to Mira’s side. Fine. If it was up to me to move it, I would do it. I knelt and tried to pull the beam away from her but couldn’t budge it. “It’s too heavy,” she yelled to me. “Leave me, and get back below.”
“Never,” I shot back, tugging and pulling more. Splinters dug into my fingers, and my muscles burned. I managed to shift it slightly, but I was nowhere near setting her free. If it was so immobile, I supposed that meant Mira wasn’t going to fly off the ship anytime soon, but I’d feel better if she were below with everyone else. Steeling myself, I strained again, swearing I’d get it off her no matter the cost to myself. Nearing tears, I was startled when another set of hands suddenly joined me. It was Grant Elliott. I hadn’t seen him throughout most of the voyage. He’d made a couple more attempts to talk to me during our first week aboard, and after that, he’d all but disappeared.
“Pull with me,” he barked, in a tone much different than the genteel one he’d used on me. He glowered when the beam remained obstinate. “Damn it, are you even trying, girl?”
“Of course I am!” I yelled back.
“You both need to go—” attempted Mira.
“Be quiet,” Grant snapped to her. To me, he said, “We’ll do it on the count of three. Put all the strength you’ve got into it, and then dig up some you didn’t even know you had. One—two—three!”
We pulled, and I did what he’d ordered, digging deep into my reserves. I felt like my own arms were going to get ripped off, but Grant and I finally lifted the beam just enough for Mira to slide out her leg and free herself. He helped her unsteadily to her feet. “Can you walk?”
She gave a shaky nod, but as she moved forward, it was obvious her ankle was slowing her down. Grant and I each took one of her arms and helped her, making our coordination that much more difficult in the treacherous conditions. Winds wailed around us, mingling with the sailors’ cries. More than one yelled at us to get below, but most rushed past, uncaring if we fell overboard.
We finally made it across the rolling deck to one of the entrances below. As we were about to enter, Mira pointed and cried, “Adelaide.”
I followed where she indicated. It took a moment to see what she was pointing to, since nearly everything was a blur from the storm. But then, far out on the dark waters, in the haze of the tempest, I could make out what her sharp eyes had seen. The Gray Gull. It was a little farther out than it usually was from us, and from this distance, it appeared to be tossed about on the waves like a child’s toy, rocking precariously back and forth. Sometimes it tipped so far right or left that I was certain there was no way it could right itself.
Tamsin. Tamsin was aboard it.
Did we look the same to them? Were we flailing that much? I had no time to give it much thought. “Stop gaping! Go!” Grant ordered us. “Hurry!”
We made it below, but all we gained was a reprieve from the sleet and wind; the ship still pitched frightfully. Grant saw us back to the Glittering Court’s common room and turned around. “Where are you going?” Mira asked.
He barely glanced back. “To see if any other fools need help.”
Mira watched him dash away, her eyes smoldering with anger. “Men get to do everything.”
“You are . . .” He started to lift a hand to my face and then dropped it. “Out of my reach.”
I closed my eyes for a heartbeat as I let those words burn through me. My world swayed, and not because of the storm outside. I turned away, scared to meet his eyes, and entered the room. There, a pale-faced Miss Bradley paced, surrounded in the rest of our girls.
“Thank Uros you’re here,” she said, upon seeing us. “I just heard from Master Jasper—we’re in some kind of storm. The captain said it came out of nowhere. We’re ordered to stay below.”
“I need to go back out,” Cedric said.
I’d been about to sit and shot back up. “What? It’s dangerous! Now isn’t the time to do something stupid.”
“Adelaide,” scolded Miss Bradley, obviously not aware of the informality between Cedric and me.
“No more stupid than usual,” he replied and disappeared out the door.
I looked around the room, assessing my cohorts. Some stood alone, fighting their fear in their own stoic way. Others huddled in groups, crying and wailing. I did a quick head count and noticed we were one short.
“Mira! Where’s Mira?”
Miss Bradley shook her head, clearly distracted by her own panic. “I don’t know. We’ll just have to hope she took refuge in some other room.”
A sickening feeling—intensified by the almost constant rolling and rocking of the ship—welled up within me. Mira wasn’t in some other room, I was certain of it. She’d probably been on one of her illicit above-deck excursions. She was resourceful—but would she be able to get below in time?
I strode to the door, my gait unsteady. “I have to find her. I have to make sure she’s safe.” I struggled to make my voice heard above the creaking of the ship and wind wailing outside, both of which seemed to be increasing by the minute.
“Adelaide!” exclaimed Miss Bradley. “You will most certainly not!” She took a step toward me, but a wave threw her off-balance. I moved out the door, not looking back.
Getting through the corridor was a terrifying ordeal. The lurching of the ship kept slamming me into the walls, and my progress was slow. My whole world was disordered, and I became more aware than ever that I was in a great expanse of water in a small enclosure of wood. I’d never, ever felt such fear—not even when sneaking out of Osfro. Then, I’d risked the punishment of man. This was the wrath of nature.
I finally reached one of the hatches that allowed access above. I climbed upward and was entirely unprepared for the mighty wind that slammed into me. It pushed me back, sharp and cold with stinging sleet. The sky above us was a sickly greenish-gray, and everything around me was in motion. Sailors ran, following the barked orders of the captain and first mate, grabbing lines and securing loose items. I was soaked in an instant, pushed into a post by another blast of wind. A wave that seemed to reach up to the sky rolled into us, nearly turning the ship on its side. My grip on the pole held me steady, but I saw many sure-footed sailors tossed about, screaming and desperately seeking to hold on to something—anything.
Between the haze of the blowing sleet and the stinging of my eyes, I could barely see. But then, across the deck, I caught sight of a familiar form. Mira sat on the deck, pinned by a large, broken beam that had fallen across her. She was dangerously close to the ship’s edge, giving me a sudden sense of déjà vu to all the times I’d worried about her standing by it. Without hesitation, I hurried to her—as much as I could hurry in such conditions. Most sailors didn’t even notice me in their frantic scrambling, but I got a second glance when I passed Old Lefty.
“What are you doing, girl?” he shouted. “Get below!”
I pointed to Mira. “Get help! You have to get it off her.”
“You get it off her,” he snapped back. “We’ve got to keep this ship from sinking.”
He left, and I moved swiftly to Mira’s side. Fine. If it was up to me to move it, I would do it. I knelt and tried to pull the beam away from her but couldn’t budge it. “It’s too heavy,” she yelled to me. “Leave me, and get back below.”
“Never,” I shot back, tugging and pulling more. Splinters dug into my fingers, and my muscles burned. I managed to shift it slightly, but I was nowhere near setting her free. If it was so immobile, I supposed that meant Mira wasn’t going to fly off the ship anytime soon, but I’d feel better if she were below with everyone else. Steeling myself, I strained again, swearing I’d get it off her no matter the cost to myself. Nearing tears, I was startled when another set of hands suddenly joined me. It was Grant Elliott. I hadn’t seen him throughout most of the voyage. He’d made a couple more attempts to talk to me during our first week aboard, and after that, he’d all but disappeared.
“Pull with me,” he barked, in a tone much different than the genteel one he’d used on me. He glowered when the beam remained obstinate. “Damn it, are you even trying, girl?”
“Of course I am!” I yelled back.
“You both need to go—” attempted Mira.
“Be quiet,” Grant snapped to her. To me, he said, “We’ll do it on the count of three. Put all the strength you’ve got into it, and then dig up some you didn’t even know you had. One—two—three!”
We pulled, and I did what he’d ordered, digging deep into my reserves. I felt like my own arms were going to get ripped off, but Grant and I finally lifted the beam just enough for Mira to slide out her leg and free herself. He helped her unsteadily to her feet. “Can you walk?”
She gave a shaky nod, but as she moved forward, it was obvious her ankle was slowing her down. Grant and I each took one of her arms and helped her, making our coordination that much more difficult in the treacherous conditions. Winds wailed around us, mingling with the sailors’ cries. More than one yelled at us to get below, but most rushed past, uncaring if we fell overboard.
We finally made it across the rolling deck to one of the entrances below. As we were about to enter, Mira pointed and cried, “Adelaide.”
I followed where she indicated. It took a moment to see what she was pointing to, since nearly everything was a blur from the storm. But then, far out on the dark waters, in the haze of the tempest, I could make out what her sharp eyes had seen. The Gray Gull. It was a little farther out than it usually was from us, and from this distance, it appeared to be tossed about on the waves like a child’s toy, rocking precariously back and forth. Sometimes it tipped so far right or left that I was certain there was no way it could right itself.
Tamsin. Tamsin was aboard it.
Did we look the same to them? Were we flailing that much? I had no time to give it much thought. “Stop gaping! Go!” Grant ordered us. “Hurry!”
We made it below, but all we gained was a reprieve from the sleet and wind; the ship still pitched frightfully. Grant saw us back to the Glittering Court’s common room and turned around. “Where are you going?” Mira asked.
He barely glanced back. “To see if any other fools need help.”
Mira watched him dash away, her eyes smoldering with anger. “Men get to do everything.”
