The Black Ship by Diana Pharaoh Francis

Author:Diana Pharaoh Francis [Francis, Diana Pharaoh]
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fantasy, Action & Adventure, Fiction, General, Fantasy fiction
ISBN: 9780451462428
Publisher: ROC
Published: 2008-11-04T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Only two of the Jutras ships still pursued them. The renegade ship clung to the Eidolon like a barnacle. She was only two hundred yards off the starboard quarter, never gaining, never falling behind. The other Jutras warship was five hundred yards behind her and making steady headway. The other ships must have been wrecked on the Bramble or sucked into the bore. But now how to be rid of the remaining two?

Thorn didn’t let himself think about it. His strength was quickly ebbing and his breath was coming in short, gulping gasps. The numb feeling that had started in his feet and hands now claimed his lower legs and forearms. A spidery coldness spread out from his chest, looping strands of iron around his heart and squeezing. He knew without a doubt that he had precious little time to bring the Eidolon safely to shore. He just wished he knew what in the depths was happening to him.

He ought to have been frightened. Or perhaps angry—railing at whatever invisible leech was sucking the life from him. But all he could think of were the leagues of water that surrounded them, and the vescies and sylveth riding the waves behind them. At least the vescies would feed on the Jutras ships first.

The Eidolon passed the northernmost point of the Bramble. It dropped behind them steadily. The winds still raged, blowing above seventy knots, and the waves were towering. Despite the risk of losing the masts or shredding the canvas apart, Plusby called for more sail.

Thorn felt the ship jerk and lunge as more canvas was added. They were on a beam reach and pushing strongly. The ship’s timbers shook and shuddered as it rose out of the waves and dropped back down, battered by the wind. The masts creaked ominously, but still Plusby didn’t take in any canvas.

They were twenty leagues off the Bramble when a rogue wave rose suddenly up off the port beam. It swept so suddenly out of the sea that Thorn didn’t feel it building beforehand. He rasped a warning to Blot, who shouted the information to the captain. Instantly, they began to come about, heading the prow into the wave.

They had less than two minutes. It was not enough.

The black wall of water slammed broad on the port bow, crashing down on top of the forecastle and sweeping across the deck like a giant’s hand. The water wrenched Thorn away from the compass and shoved him across the deck. Blot clamped his arms tightly around Thorn’s thighs to prevent him from being washed overboard.

They slid over the deck and crashed heavily against the pinrail. Thorn’s head bounced off a rail rib, his skull filling with a smothering charcoal mist. He scrabbled to grab at his tattered consciousness as the mist settled heavily over him, pushing him down and down and down… .

Water filled his mouth and nose. Another wave rammed him against the rail again. He struggled to find the surface. His heart rattled inside his chest.

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