Thankfully, there was no one in the bilge hole, and Gem maneuvered Cloud as close as she could to the platform. Which wasn’t as close as Remy would’ve liked; there was still a good three or four feet from the dragon to the edge of the basket. It wasn’t a long jump; he’d made much harder leaps before, but not from a platform that was constantly bobbing up and down, wind tugging viciously at his clothes.
“Can’t you get him any closer?” he asked.
“Dragons don’t hover well,” Gem called back. “If I move him much closer, he’ll clip his wing on the basket. You’re going to have to jump.”
Jump. Remy looked at the edge of the basket, remembering the time he had to leap onto a floating rock over the Maelstrom to escape pirates.This is the same thing, he told himself.Just don’t look down.
Swinging his leg over the saddle, he waited until Cloud’s bobbing was at its highest, then jumped.
For a second, he didn’t think he’d timed it right, and the Vortex roared beneath him as he flew through the air. But then he hit the edge of the basket, bruising his chest as he clung desperately to the rim. Kicking and clawing, he heaved himself over the edge and fell into the basket.
Gem also swung her leg over the saddle, standing up in the stirrup as she contemplated the leap before her. She jumped and, like Remy, did not look down as she sailed through the air and hit the side of the basket. Grabbing her arms, Remy pulled her over the edge and into the space with him.
For a few moments, they sat there, gasping, waiting for their hearts to return to normal. Gem moved first. Climbing to her feet, she gazed at Cloud, still beating his wings as he hovered as close as he could to the basket.
“Good boy,” she told him, but at that moment, the ship overhead gave a shudder and started to move. Heart pounding, Remy scrambled to his feet, feeling energy ripple through the hull as the huge warship stirred like a beast waking up.
“Gem, come on.” Putting a hand on the ladder rungs, he looked back at her. “We have to move. TheWindsharkis going to start fighting back. Hurry.”
“Cloud!” she cried as the dragon gave a squawk, trying to move with the ship. “Stay here!” she told him. “Stay close, but fly below the ship and keep out of sight. We’ll be right back, okay?”
The dragon’s bellow didn’t sound like anything to Remy, but Gem nodded and turned to him. “Okay, let’s go.”
Pushing back the trapdoor, they climbed through the hole and into the bowels of theWindshark.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
They were inside.
Gem took a deep, steadying breath as she gazed around, trying to decide where to go next. The interior of theWindsharkwas much like the inside of theQueen’s Blade, dim and cramped, with low ceilings and narrow corridors. Barrels and crates lined the walls, and clutter like netting, lanterns, ropes, buckets, and other debris sat on shelves or in forgotten piles in the corner.
“I think we’re in the hold,” Remy whispered, looking around as well. “The cannon deck is probably above us. The brig should be close.”
As if in response, a deafening boom echoed somewhere overhead, the sound of several cannons firing at once. The ceiling shook, dust raining down on them from above, and Gem’s ears rang with the noise.
“Come on, then,” she whispered, moving between piles of crates and stacks of barrels. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
Carefully, they crept across the room. Above them, footsteps pounded back and forth, pirates rushing to load cannons for a second counterattack. Gem hoped Captain Cutlass and the crew of theQueen’s Bladewere all right. Nothing she and Remy were doing would matter if their ship was blown out of the sky. Plus, she was starting to sort of like the pirate captain.
A simple wooden door at the back of the room led to a narrow hallway when it was opened. A second door with a small, barred window stood at the end of the hall, yellow lantern light spilling through the cracks. The smell of mold, wet straw, rust, and filth suddenly wafted into the corridor, making Gem wrinkle her nose.
“Ew, that’s definitely the brig,” she muttered. “It smells awful.”
“It does?” Remy looked confused for a moment. “It doesn’t smell any different than the Salty Barrel,” he said.
Anything Gem said in response to that would have been rude, so she didn’t reply.
The door was unlocked and creaked when they pushed it open. Through the frame was a small, dark room, lit with a single hanging lantern. A pair of cells sat along the wall, thick, rusty iron bars spanning floor to ceiling. A cage dangled from a chain on the opposite wall, and shackles hung from the wall, rattling as the ship trembled.
“Sir Bartello?” Stumbling across the room, Gem peered into the first cell. The floor was covered in moldy straw, and a bucket sat in the corner, thankfully empty. At first, she thought the cell was empty, too, but then she noticed a lump of bundled rags in the corner, a pair of feet poking from beneath the covers.
“Sir Bart?” Her heart clenched. For a moment, she thought that this was a dead body. No living person could sleep through the ruckus and noise from the two battling ships. But then the lump in the corner stirred. It sat up, and a head emerged from the rags, the face of a thin, white-haired old man staring at her through the bars.
“Who are you?” he croaked.
Relief and uncertainty filled her. Relief that he was alive, but…thiswas Sir Bartello, the fabled sky knight of old? A skinny, unkempt, bleary-eyed old man? Would he even remember where the True Dragons were? Would he even remember his name?