The Deepest Ocean (Eden Series) (38 page)

Yerena drifted out of sleep, one sense after another coming to life. A hammock rocked slowly around her, and somewhere above, the rhythmic thuds of booted feet crossed a deck. The place smelled of lye-scrubbed boards and crushed herbs.

Her eyes blinked open. She had been hauled aboard
Hawk Royal
, unable to climb the ladder by herself, but she had passed out before her feet could touch its deck. Although she had woken periodically since then, she had always been too fevered to notice much of her surroundings. The fever was only to be expected, since there were sure to be plenty of bits of rotting meat between the shark’s teeth.

The shark. She hadn’t understood the dream, hadn’t realized the shark would save her life. There was a lot she hadn’t understood and hadn’t done, and now it was too late. Without expecting to feel the familiar presence, she reached out.

It felt like opening a door and letting in the first light of dawn. Startled, she let herself sink deeply into the shark’s consciousness. She knew
Hawk Royal
was moving, but how could the shark have kept pace for all that time? Faint stinging twinges flickered along its nerves, so it was still recovering, not yet completely well, but there was none of the raw agony that had worn it down to the point where it had stopped eating. Its belly felt full.

Well, perhaps driving off the megalodon had raised its spirits, and sensing its satiation made her aware of how thirsty she was. She wore only bandages, but no one else was in the cabin, and despite the sheer number of bandages, it didn’t hurt too much to move.

She raised her arms experimentally, pushing off the sweat-dampened sheet that covered her, and climbed out of the hammock before she wrapped the sheet around her. A ceramic pitcher was on a table nearby, and she poured a glass of water. She drank it in sips, partly to savor the cold taste and partly because there didn’t seem to be any clothes in the cabin, so she wasn’t in a hurry to leave.

The door opened. Darok glanced in—straight at the empty hammock, and a startled look crossed his face before he saw her.

“There you are.” He came in, closing the door. Yerena felt herself starting to smile, and for once she didn’t stifle it.

“How do you feel?” He took her hand in his without waiting for an answer. “Well, you don’t have a fever any longer. Are you hungry? It’s just past noon, so there’s some of the midday meal left.”

“I’m all right,” Yerena said, a little amused at the oncoming tide of questions and information. He was so different from anyone in Seawatch. “I take it we’re on the way home?”

“Oh, yes. Kiti wasn’t about to go chasing the rest of the Tureans after they scattered.”

Yerena wondered if those two warships had been held in reserve in case Darok failed or whether they had been sent to rescue any survivors. Perhaps both. “But how did she reach us so quickly? Those warships didn’t go through the strait, did they?”

“Hell, no. Kiti isn’t as rash as I am. She went south instead, right on the heels of that false ship. Turns out the Admiralty wanted the Tureans to see through the trick and to turn their attention to the north again. That’s how Kiti made such good time. She rode an ocean current north and wasn’t challenged along the way at all. But there’s nothing left to salvage on Lastland, so we’re sailing back.”

Yerena lowered her gaze to the table, tracing a line of woodgrain. She was relieved they were safe, but Denalay’s final secure foothold in the Iron Ocean was gone, and despite the Tureans’ losses, they had also sunk
Daystrider
.

Darok’s hand tightened a little on hers, and when she looked back at him, he was leaning back relaxed in his chair. Other than the scar that twisted its way down the side of his face, he looked younger than he had at the start of their voyage.

“There’ll be time enough to retake it,” he said. “Maybe with those new ships Lady Lisabe told us about.”

“Did you find her?”

“No, and that Turean bitch Jash Morender escaped. But at least we haven’t seen any giant sharks again.”

“Do you know if it’s…” Yerena didn’t finish. No matter how dangerous the megalodon had been, it hadn’t chosen to fight that battle any more than her shark had, and most of all she regretted hurting it badly rather than giving it a quick clean end.

“Dead?” Darok said bluntly. “Well, it’s not floating belly-up anywhere nearby, but one of the men on my boat said he saw it eat that coral-creature. Maybe that made it change its mind about coming after us.”

“I hope so.” But as she replied, she remembered what the coral-creature had said about budding, and why Seawatch was so wary of brain coral. On the other hand, maybe the wounded megalodon had retreated to the abyssal zone, diving too deep for almost anything to live. She wished she could be sure, even if it meant seeing either of those monsters again.

“Don’t worry,” Darok said. “They’re both likely dead. Even if they’re not, we’ll be far away soon, but if I command another ship and have the good fortune to be sent back here, I’m going after the Turean flagship. And its captain’s head.”

“After seeing that coral-creature, I’d go with you,” Yerena said. That brought a softer look to his eyes, but it reminded her of what she needed to carry out any such duties.

She drew in a breath to steel herself. “Darok, what happened to my shark?”

“Ah.” One brow went up. “Do you want to see it?”

“Of course.” She tested the link again, to see how close the shark was.
Why, it must be swimming right alongside
Hawk Royal.

“Wait here. I’ll get some clothes for you.”

As soon as he was gone, she began peeling off the bandages. Her eye was no longer swollen shut, but the flesh around it felt tender and she could imagine how she looked. Still, bruises would fade in time. The scabs itching beneath her bandages were another matter, and she wanted to see how bad the scarring would be.

Teeth marks arced across her belly like giant stitches on her skin, and a matching set of wounds was reflected on her back, but she felt like smiling again. She knew just how much pressure the powerful jaws exerted when they snapped shut; that the shark had managed to hold her without biting through her guts or liver left her both grateful and humbled.

A weight settled across her shoulders and she sank back into the chair. The shark hadn’t just held her, it had saved her life despite its injuries, and she was already thinking of their next assignment. Though what else could she do?
Seawatch would still expect her to earn her keep.

Darok returned before she could brood any further, and while the blouse and skirt he brought clearly belonged to someone with more height and broader shoulders, they were clean and she couldn’t afford to be finicky. She struggled into them and pushed her tangled hair back. He held the door open for her.

The men of
Hawk Royal
went about their work on the deck and in the rigging. A few Lastlanders and some of
Daystrider
’s
crew were topside as well, but Yerena had no eyes for anything but the shark. She went in the direction that Darok pointed to, stumbling a little—the cut across the back of her leg was still healing—and he slipped his hand beneath her elbow, but even that barely impinged on her awareness. Only the sight of the shark filled her vision.

It swam slowly beside the ship, and she realized
Hawk Royal
’s speed was deliberately held back so the shark would not fall behind, but what made her blink in disbelief was the semi-circle of boats surrounding the shark. Men rowed them, singing a song, and all around the boats were nets. Held to the boats’ outer gunwales to form a single unbroken sheet, they kept back anything which might dart in to attack.

Calm and unafraid, the shark pressed close to the surface, sensing her presence. Its size dwarfed any of the rowboats, but the sailors were clearly used to it and they didn’t react. Sunlight on the thin film of waves over its back turned them to a shining, shifting blue-grey mosaic. Its head broke water, but its eyes didn’t roll back. On the hide she knew as well as her own skin, the scars looked like strange new constellations in the sky.

Darok cleared his throat, and she tore her attention away from the shark; she had forgotten he was there. “We’ve been feeding it too.”

“Teaching it bad habits,” Yerena said, but the severity was feigned and he grinned. “You won’t have to for much longer.” Protected and allowed to swim at its own pace, the shark would be fully recovered soon, and although the damage to its fins could not heal, it would be able to hunt for itself again. She closed her hands around the rail and watched, drinking in the sight.

“Yerena,” Darok began. “The dream you had…”

“I know. I was wrong. He saved my life.”

His brows went up. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “I think you heard what you just said.”

She could imagine what Seawatch’s response would be when they heard it, but for once Seawatch didn’t seem important. “Just don’t ask me to give him a name or anything sentimental like that.”

“Not yet,” Darok said. “Come, let’s get something to eat.”

Yerena took one more look at the shark, then went with him.

The day after that, Julean was allowed to leave the surgery, though it was another three days before Darok spoke with him. Julean had thrown himself from
Dreadnaught
, obviously preferring to be either drowned or eaten rather than spend any more time in Turean custody, but since the galley had been fleeing by then, he’d been rescued by
Hawk Royal
before he could die. The physician aboard had treated him, but had also told Darok the damage to Julean’s hands was irreparable.

As for the less visible wounds, Julean hadn’t been approachable even on
Daystrider
, and the sight of him now kept everyone at bay. Not that anyone seemed to want to speak with him, since word of what he had done had spread to
Hawk Royal
’s crew as well. The men who had served with him on
Daystrider
looked through him, as though he had died on the Turean galley.

Darok couldn’t blame them. Julean had deliberately left his post and abandoned his duty, so he’d be lucky not to be thrown in prison when they returned to Denalay. Only Yerena spoke to him from time to time, and after hearing from her what had happened on
Dreadnaught
, Darok considered what to say to his former physician.

That he was planning it at all was unusual for him, but somewhere along the voyage he’d learned to tread more carefully—at least when dealing with people like Yerena and Julean. He waited until Julean was leaning over the gunwale, watching the waves while men finished their midday meal, then approached him. Though the clothes Julean wore were clean, they didn’t hide his loss of weight. The silver locket around his throat caught a fleck of the noonday sun and threw it back tenfold.

“The fever’s gone, I take it?” Darok said.

Julean nodded. Darok wished he had a cheroot to offer the man, just to give them both something to do, but even if he had, he wasn’t sure Julean could go through the motions of trimming and lighting and smoking one without pain.

“I’m sorry about your hands,” he said. They were wrapped in clean linen, and
Hawk Royal
’s physician was one of the best in the fleet, but there was no hiding the places where three fingers had once been.

“I’ll live.” Julean’s voice was quiet and neutral, and the word
somehow
went unspoken. Darok doubted he could manipulate a scalpel again, which didn’t leave him too many choices.

At least I can set his mind at ease about one thing.
“I won’t bring charges of desertion and theft against you.”

“Thank you. If I can, I’ll repay you.”

“I don’t want repayment.” They both knew Julean would not be hired to scrub down the deck on another Denalait ship. “What will you do?”

Julean breathed out, his chest falling slowly and shoulders slack. “I don’t know,” he said finally, though he didn’t sound bitter or despairing. Perhaps he’d faced too much on
Dreadnaught
for the prospect of pauperdom on Denalay to frighten him. “I just know what I won’t do.”

“What’s that?”

“Throw anything else away.” Julean raised his right hand and lifted the silver chain from around his neck with a single unbound finger. It passed over his head, ruffling his hair lightly, and he held it out over the waves. “Except for this.”

The locket swayed on the end of the chain, gleaming in the sun, and then it was gone, falling into foam and blue water. Darok thought of it sinking all the way down to the quiet depths of the ocean.

“You didn’t throw that away,” he said. “You buried it. That’s what people do with the past.”

Then he went to get his own food, something he hadn’t wanted to do until after he’d spoken to Julean, though that had left him feeling better than he’d expected. Yerena was belowdecks, so he was seated on the quarterdeck polishing off his meal when Kiti Marl’s shadow fell over him. A hat was tilted low over her eyes, but it didn’t hide the hard look in them.

“I have a message for you from the Admiralty,” she said.

Darok sighed inwardly. Ask Kiti to deliver eggs, and they’d be chickens when they reached the recipient. He held his free hand out for the message.

She folded her arms, glaring down at him. “You’ve made admiral.”