Page 13 of Beneath the Haunting Sea

She couldn’t help but thinkof her mother’s gods, and the stories she used to tell about them: Tuer of the mountain and Raiva of the trees. Mahl and Ahdairon, Lord and Lady of the air. Uerc of the beasts and Huen of the earth. Caida of the Stars and Hahld of the rivers. Aigir of the sea.

Watching the storm through the porthole, she could almost believe the stories were true. She was struck by her own helplessness, caughtin the middle of the vast ocean at the mercy of the waves, or maybe even the gods.

Another flash of lightning, anothercrrraaaackof thunder. A wave hit the ship so hard it tipped sideways, throwing Talia against the door. Her bare foot caught on something sharp and she hissed in pain. The next moment she was tossed back toward the porthole. She touched it with one hand, and the icy coldnessof the glass shot through her.

And then she saw something out there in the storm: a huge shape gleaming in the rain. Her thoughts tangled with images of sea monsters or gods come suddenly to life. She and her mother could die tonight. Drown in the black sea amidst the splintered remains of the ship.

Lightning slashed across the sky, illuminating the world for an instant, and there it was: awhale, nearly the size of the ship, swimming beside them in the storm. She stared, transfixed. Thunder crashed overhead, and once more the ship lurched, tipping her away from the porthole.

She scrambled back toward the glass, fighting the roll of the vessel, desperate for another glimpse of the whale. Just as she reached the porthole, lightning flashed again, but there was nothing out there anymore.The creature had vanished from sight like the sea had swallowed it whole. Like it had never existed at all.

Her mother awoke as the ship tipped again, and the porthole was suddenly on the ceiling. “Talia!”

“I’m here!”

“Talia!”

“Here.” She grabbed her mother’s hand in the dark, alarmed at the terror in her voice.

Her mother wept, sobs wracking her entire body and Talia clung to her, desperateto calm her down. The ship shuddered around them and the lightning roared. Any moment now Talia thought the vessel would break apart and they would all be devoured by the sea.

“She’s angry. She can feel us here and she’s so angry.”

Her mother’s words frightened Talia more than the storm. “What are you talking about?”

Another wave hit, knocking them both onto the floor. Talia heard somethingsnap, and her mother screamed.

“Mama!”

Her mother screamed again. She couldn’t seem to stop.

Talia wrestled to her feet, scrabbling in her pocket for a packet of matches. She lit the lamp on the ceiling. Orange light spun crazily through the cabin, illuminating her mother writhing on the floor with tears streaking down her cheeks. Her right wrist was bent almost entirely backwards against herarm.

Talia ran out into the storm to get the Captain.

Her mother wouldn’t stop screaming.

Captain Oblaine came bolting down to their tiny cabin, hard on Talia’s heels, and lifted her mother back into the bunk, careful not to knock her broken wrist.

“She’s so angry!” her mother cried, writhing in the Captain’s grasp. “She’ll kill us all!”

The storm lashed the ship from side to side and lightningflared outside the porthole. Her mother kept screaming.

The Captain pinned her into the bunk while Talia watched, helpless and horrified.

“Find Hanid!” the Captain barked. “Ask him for the medical kit!”

And then Talia was running back up to the main deck, wrestling against the clawing wind and icy rain, shouting Hanid’s name.

The ship lurched starboard, and Hanid was there, grasping her elbow.

She shouted into his ear so he could hear her: “My mother’s hurt! We need the medical kit!”

He squeezed her arm and was gone, sliding across the deck.

She clung to a rope lashed about the main mast to keep herself upright and waited for him: one heartbeat. Two. Sailors swarmed the deck like frantic insects, hauling lines and trimming sails and fighting to keep the ship afloat. Their shouts andcurses tangled with the memory of her mother’s screams.

She counted to twelve and Hanid was back, lugging a large leather box with him. He pressed it into her arms. “Gods keep you!” he cried, then turned back to help his men.

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