Page 20 of By the Flames of Her Fury

“Thought you might want this,” Starke said, coming up behind me with a steaming wooden mug. Behind his tricorn and long hair, a stack of storm clouds gathered in the distance.

I eyed the mug. “I’m guessing that’s not rum.”

“Close. It’s chamomile tea.” He handed it to me, and I raised an eyebrow as I wrapped my hands around the warm cup. He shrugged and said, “Odessa got me hooked on the stuff. It helps me sleep, and she says it’s better for me than rum.”

“Well, we don’t drink it for our health.” I lifted the mug in mock cheers, then took a sip. The scorching liquid nearly scalded my tongue. I coughed it down with a gasp. “Fates, that’s hot.”

“Yes, I thought the steam would have clued you in.”

“I can’t taste anything now,” I mumbled, sipping it more slowly. My tongue felt like it had been burned off, but the warmth was comforting as it slid down my throat. “Thanks, Starke.”

He tipped his hat in response. He opened his mouth as if to say more, but before he got the chance, the ship lurched and knocked us both into the railing. I lost my grip on the mug, and it flew into the sea below. The ship rose and fell on choppy waves, the storm clouds now dark and menacing against the bloodred sunset.

“Strike the royals,” Starke turned and commanded the crew. “We need to stabilize her. I don’t like the look of those clouds.”

The crew scattered. Wind slapped against the mainsail, tangling the lines as men rushed to the mast. I leaned into the breeze with a deep breath, and my nose twitched. The wind smelled wrong—sharp and heavy, with a musty tint.

“Storm came out of nowhere,” Lenny, the helmsman, muttered behind me. I turned to see his white-knuckled grip on the wheel.

“Aww, Lenny. Scared of a little rain?” I quipped. The first hint of trouble always made something dark and excited unfurl beneath my ribs. One would think after twenty years of constant danger I’d want a lifetime of peace ahead of me, but there was an instinct inside that made me need the fear. Starke thought I was reckless. He said I gave him weekly heart attacks—picking fights at bars, diving headfirst into the Shattered Spine, all the times I chased Mortep without a thought for my own safety.

Maybe he had a point.

I closed my eyes and focused on the impending storm rustling the nerves in my gut. We hit a particularly bad swell, and water crashed onto the main deck. My boots skidded when I spun around, forcing me to grip the rail.

Starke stood at the helm with his arms crossed, jaw set, that blond hair yanked back in a messy leather tie. “Reef the mainsail,” he called to the crew, and there was a chorus of “ayes.”

Over my shoulder, the wind whipped the sea into a frenzy. It was getting more difficult to see into the distance, but something caught my eye. The waves to the north looked strange, almost as if they were crashing in on each other. I leaned forward so my head stuck out the side. They weren’t crashing, more like circling⁠—

“Vera!” Starke barked. I jerked my head back to him. “Don’t get any smart ideas.”

“I don’t have any other kind,” I called out, earning me a glare.

“You should get below deck!”

“What?” I yelled, pointing to my ear as if I couldn’t hear him over the wind.

“Vera…” There was that warning tone of his. I gave him a sheepish shrug.

Lenny suddenly lurched forward into the wheel. “Somethin’s fighting me, Cap’n,” he bit out. His arms were rigid as he struggled against the wheel.

The floor trembled, and I grabbed the rail again to keep from falling. Starke and Lenny both lost their balance at the helm. When Lenny let go, the wheel spun faster, and the bow of the ship shifted north.

I sucked in a breath. The water ahead of us no longer churned with high waves. The sea flattened and then spiraled. A pale circle, then darker, deeper, the hole widening to show an endless abyss.

“Fates,” Starke cursed.

The air thrummed in time to my pounding pulse. Crewmembers shouted around me, the entire ship thrown into chaos at the sight of the whirlpool.

Starke leaped to help Lenny at the wheel, both men now drenched. The ship pitched forward again, and I barely avoided a barrel sliding across the deck.

“Secure the ship!” Starke roared from the helm. “We have to abandon course. We just need to get out of this.”

Rain pounded the waves. The crew's shouts grew more and more frantic by the second. I joined in to stow anything that could move as the water got even rougher.

Despite Starke and Lenny both pushing at the wheel, the ship continued to succumb to the pull of the whirlpool. I couldn’t stop myself from pausing at the railing, eyes wide. The sight was as incredible as it was terrifying. The whirl stretched, and the sea around it sloped like a bowl. The White Moonstone careened toward it as if the water had grown hands and was trying to drag us under. I leaned forward, entranced by the motion. I briefly wondered what it would feel like to let go. To swirl around and around until⁠—

Behind me, lines snapped free.