Midnight Jewel
Page 97

   “I see the Sun’s Promise,” a man in our boat said. I’d never met him. Tom had hired a lot of additional help for this.
   Tom nodded in approval. “Bring us in then.”
   The skiffs glided forward, dark shapes on dark water. A few strands of hair tickled my cheek, and I brushed them aside. “Finally, some breeze.”
   The temperature had dropped abruptly since we’d left, and I suddenly found myself thinking of the day the storm had hit aboard the Good Hope. I’d been studying Grant’s hair then, how still it had been when we first stepped outside, and before I knew it, it had been back to its unruly state as the wind rapidly picked up.
   I turned back to Elijah. His head was tipped up as he studied the sky. I looked up as well and saw the dark clouds Tom had mentioned earlier—the ones that would help give us cover. There were more of them now, stretching almost entirely across the sky. Ariniel’s star was gone. All the stars were.
   The Sun’s Promise was bigger than the Queen’s Grace—but not the biggest ship I’d ever seen. That honor went to the two naval ships farther down the harbor, which loomed over the smaller boats like sentinels. I could just barely make out the lines of gun holes, whose lids concealed cannons. As I watched, both of them began to trim their sails. Above us, the Sun’s Promise started to as well.
   “Excellent,” said Tom. “They’re all going to be busy with ballast and bringing in sail.”
   Elijah’s boat floated right next to ours. “Of course they’re bringing in sail!” he exclaimed. “Every bloody ship out here is—”
   “Enough.” I’d never heard Tom speak so fiercely to Elijah. “If you don’t want to do this, then swim back. You lot—get up there.”
   Five men made the short swim to the hull. Our cluster of skiffs wasn’t up against the side this time. We held position farther away, at an angle to the stern that made us harder to see. Tom’s men were skilled swimmers and moved swiftly through the choppy water. They climbed up the ship’s side and slipped in through a small round window about midway up the hull. Then we waited as our own boats began to bob more violently on the water.
   Tom stared unblinkingly at the ship’s deck, his tension tangible. Thunder rumbled, and I wondered what the men were doing inside. When a ladder unfurled over the hull, Tom relaxed. “Excellent. Let’s go.”
   We brought our skiffs in closer and boarded the ship. The five scouts had already subdued the topside crew, and the rest of us spread throughout the ship to search for other crewmen. Tom once more warned against using guns. There were more sailors here than on the Queen Grace, but their busy storm preparation had given us an advantage. After only a handful of scuffles, we were able to round them up and confine them to the brig.
   “Move,” Tom ordered us, once the brig was locked. “The storm’s helping us right now but won’t for long.”
   We had a lot more cargo to transport this time, and it was heavier too. As I climbed down to a lower deck and heard the wind howl outside the rocking ship, I once more had that disorienting feeling of being on Good Hope again, tossed around by the elements, not knowing if I’d live or die.
   Elijah nudged me. “You okay?”
   “Fine.” I kept moving. “Just thinking about another storm I was in. It was worse.”
   “This is going to get worse, and Tom knows it. He hasn’t been away from the sea that long, but he wants this—badly.”
   Lowering the heavy, bulky crates down to the waiting boats took time and had to be done carefully. It created a bottleneck. That was the disadvantage of raiding a ship that was anchored instead of docked. Sneaking aboard might be easier, but getting everything off wasn’t.
   Lightning tore apart the sky, and soon the rain came. One of the hired men and I carried a crate together and set it down near an expanding pile by the edge. I started to return below when I heard shouting: Tom and Elijah arguing.
   “Even if we get it all off, the skiffs won’t make it back in this chop!” yelled Elijah over the thunder.
   After a little more back and forth, Tom grudgingly yielded. “Get everyone back here,” he called to us. “We’re going to load what we’ve got and—”
   A bright flash near the stern made him stop. A hanging lantern had been knocked off by the wind and smashed to the deck. I knew from crossing the Sunset Sea that most lanterns were doused during storms, but these sailors hadn’t had time to finish their preparations. Flames started to spread over the deck, and sparks blew up onto some of the rigging. The rope ignited too quickly for the rain to put out, and the fire jumped up to a loose sail that also hadn’t had a chance to be properly brought in. That sail whipped into another sail, and I watched in horror as the blaze expanded and expanded. I looked at Tom and saw him wrestle with indecision. He glanced at the remaining cargo and finally shook his head.
   “Everyone, off! This’ll bring the navy.”
   He didn’t have to repeat himself. Everyone raced to the edge, lining up to scramble down the ladder. Anders threw a second one over. I started to join the line and then stared back at one of the doors leading below.
   “Tom,” I called. “What about the crew?”
   “There’s no time, Aviel. The wind’s feeding the fire, and this ship is gone when the cargo lights up. Go!”
   I couldn’t. Not when I thought of all those sailors locked in the brig, burning to death. “I can get down to them! I won’t take long.”
   “There’s no time! Don’t be stupid!”
   “I’m going!”
   “Aviel—”
   I’d already turned around. As I started to run, I just barely heard Elijah say to Tom, “Get the others off and away. I’ll stay back with a boat and wait for her. She can make it before the ship blows.”
   “The longer we wait, the more the cargo we’ve taken is at stake.”