Page 50 of The Demons in the Deep: Extended Edition
The other racing boats waited in a line across the bay. Feral’s boat was the nearest; it carried a yellow sail, and it had strange mechanical contraptions folded along its sides. Another boat had a red sail and a spiky black hull; it was rounder than the rest, an odd design choice, Rake thought. Sleek shapes slid more easily through the water.
A wild fanfare played, echoing across the bay. Then silence.
“At the sound of the horn,” Flay said.
Rake’s hand tightened on the rope.
The horn blared, a dreadful sound that pained Rake’s sensitive ears. He cringed, barely remembering to tug the rope like he was supposed to. He knew little of sailing, so once his part was done, he was glad to leave Corklan and Baz to do most of the work to get theKestrelunderway.
A bold breeze punched out the sails at once, swelling them taut, and the littleKestrelleaped forward. Foam spit from her bow as she plowed ahead through the azure surface of the bay.
Flay stood at the back of the boat, adjusting the wheel, his eyes trained on the first target. “Ready, Graves,” he said. “On my mark.”
But another ship was already angling across theKestrel’s path—a racer with a poison-green sail.
“Captain Cinux of theEstrence,” Flay muttered.
“Shall we knock him down a peg, Captain?” Corklan asked.
“Let him run,” said Flay. “We’ll hit him later, or someone else will. Save our weapons for the second half of this.”
The poison-green ship skimmed ahead and shot a green pellet at the target board. Green paint exploded across it. Instantly, podlike air-filled wings opened up from either side of the green ship, and it shot farther ahead.
“Is that allowed?” Corklan asked.
“Everything but rowing is allowed,” Flay answered. “Eyes on the target, mates. Let no one else reach it first.”
But Feral’s sailboat was nosing ahead, and its yellow paint splattered the board next. Flay cursed, long and loud, as the wake of Feral’s boat rolled against theKestrel. He clutched the wheel, turning it to compensate. “What’s that name on his ship?”
Rake leaned forward. “Looks likeSparrow.” He whipped around, staring at Flay. “That’s what you call Mai.”
Flay’s jaw tightened. “Feral danced with her at the ball. I think he has taken a shine to her.”
A burning haze rose from Rake’s chest into his head. His lips pulled back over his teeth.
“Settle down, Goldfish,” Flay said. “He’s trying to distract us. It’s what he does. Stay focused.” He raised his voice. “Now, Graves!”
TheKestrel’s blue paint struck the target.
“Angle the mainsail a bit, Corklan! Catch the full force of that wind. And run out the second lateen sail!”
The next part of the course was a maze of bobbing barrels. They wouldn’t damage the ship, but they could interfere with steering and speed. Rake kept an eye on Flay, but the captain seemed grimly determined to deal with it all one-handed. Occasionally he used his residual limb to help brace the wheel and lend extra pressure, but he winced whenever he did it.
Another target was struck, and theKestrelstill held third place. Mai’s design was doing wonders for their speed.
“Bless that girl’s brain,” Flay cried aloud, and he whooped as they sped past the second target. Rake laughed and lifted his face to the wind, reveling in the faint spray of cold droplets against his parched skin.
But they all sobered when they saw jagged spikes gleaming in the water ahead—lines of metal shards, fastened to long poles jutting up from the bottom of the sea. A maze of razor teeth.
If only they had had time to peel, soften, and reshape some of theasthoreplating from the hull of theWind’s Favor.But Flay’s builders had barely had time to finish the racing ship, let alone armor it.
Rake shifted closer to Flay, bracing himself against the boat’s side. “Let me help with the steering.”
“I’m fine,” Flay gritted out. He whipped the wheel aside, and theKestrelslanted sharply, tipping until its port gunwhale was nearly in the water. Rake braced himself, mimicking the angle at which the other sailors held their bodies, using his weight to help the ship turn. It was a lightweight craft, swift and strong, but its very lightness made the judicious use of their weight all the more important. Mai had explained it to him, but he hadn’t understood it fully until that moment.
Flay was sweating, his torso shining, his knuckles white. Legs apart and boots braced, he guided theKestrelthrough the razor maze. The boat nearly keeled over several times, and Rake’s heart thundered as it had during his lone journey through an ocean full of predators. It seemed to him that on this island, predators were just as numerous. Two-legged, but no less deadly.
A sudden blow to theKestrel’s hull shook the ship, Flay staggered, and Rake lunged for the wheel, catching it just in time to keep theKestrelfrom skidding against a metal spike.
