Page 150 of The Shadowed Oracle
Only silence, followed by a low hum.
And then, finally, a voice.
“Ingrid? Ingrid, are you alright!?”
Dean was calm through all of it, as if he only needed to hear her voice.
“I’m here,” she said. “Follow my words. I’m here!”
The sound of footsteps approached, soothing her. In the wake of it all, their hands met. They embraced, holding each other as the world around them began to reform, taking shape.
The sea glimmered in the half-light of the clouded sun. Blues and greens filled in the emptiness like watercolors on blank parchment. Grey clouds again hung in the sky.
And the jagged sea-mountain, what remained of it, suddenly appeared right before them.
“Brace!”
The captain hadn’t stopped yanking at the wheel. He had no choice. He tugged as hard as he could, leaning at an impossible angle and yelling out to his crew, “Brace! Brace!”
The islet was just feet from them. Sharp rock that could cut into the ship and send them falling to the bottom of the Jemii. The crew held tight to the mast ropes. A great and horrible crunch came from below.
“Hold on to me,” Dean said, reaching for Ingrid.
She did. And over his shoulder, she watched. Watched as the captain worked, veins popping from his forearms and face reddened with effort.
The ship tipped at a dangerous angle, able crew members piling on one side to aid the turn.
“We’re going to make it,” Dean said into her ear. “No matter what.”
From Ingrid’s perspective, a crash looked inevitable, but she closed her eyes, whispered back, “No matter what.”
And then she prayed.Actuallyprayed. Not some desperate and mindless declaration. It was a full submission to the ways of her birthplace, begging her new God, her blessed Mother, her true home, to save them.
The crew bellowed out in unison.
Ingrid couldn’t deduce if it was in agony or exaltation, and she only kept her eyes closed and her arms around Dean. As long as she remained there, she thought, she was safe. Time seemed to slow again as she held on. Feeling the weight of him, the strength of him.
And finally, falling safely into his assurances, “We made it.”
Her eyelids shot open. She took in the scene, hardly believing what she saw. The crew was celebrating, abandoning their professional demeanors to indulge in embraces of their own. The captain had narrowly avoided complete and utter devastation by inches, steering them back into open water.
“We made it,” she repeated back to Dean.
She’d never been so glad to peer out at the empty sea. Forgetting her distaste, she pressed her stomach hard into the wood of the taffrail, assessing the depths below.
“She’s gone.” Ingrid whipped her head around in every direction. “Enitha is gone.”
“Thatwas Enitha?” Dean asked breathlessly.
“Long story.”
One that would have to wait. All Dean or anyone else aboard had to know was that the beast was nowhere in sight. For now, he took her word for it. Sifting through the carnage for survivors was the most important thing.
Together, Dean and Ingrid circled the ship and tended to the first injured crew member they happened upon. Just as they’d gotten him to his feet, Raidinn called out to them.
“Guys! I think you need to see this.” He waved them over to where he was kneeling next to Arryn, and just feet away, Tyla tended to Callinora.
The princess was stirring, showing signs of recovery. Miraculously, her radiant complexion was clear of any wounds or markings, but she was still barely conscious, only moving when her short, shallow breaths puffed her chest out slightly.
