#also i worked hard to keep the word count at 1069 during editing

[greatshell-rider]

89. holding your breath underwater (sensory prompts)

“Lani, don’t—”

She pushed him, square in the chest.

Jerry twisted, trying to catch his balance, but with his ankles shackled and no more gangplank to speak of—yeah, he fell. Plummeted, with all the extra weight of the chains pulling him down. But it was a long way to go, this being a flying ship and all, and Lani could hear the sweet sound of her brother’s screams turn into long strings of curses maybe, eh, halfway down. Then those were cut off, by the decisive splash of the ocean claiming him as their own.

And all was quiet, not counting the distant shrieking cries of cloudskimmer gulls high above.

Lani craned her head over the edge of the wooden board extending six feet or so from the rail of the ship, eyeing the ripples Jerry’s flailing body had made at impact. “Not even a good cannonball,” she muttered.

There was a cough behind her. And a heavy, exasperated sigh, this time from the captain. She turned to find him shaking his head as he ran a scarred hand over the braids of his hair. “See now, Lace, see, that is precisely the reason why we have to do this! You’re untrustworthy! I’ll admit, I’ll admit, I somewhat understood you backstabbing—literally, backstabbing—Rhodes, they got even on my nerves, with all their sneaking around and thievery. But this! This!”

First mate Crest tsk-ed, also shaking their head. “Pushed your own brother off the plank.”

“Your own brother!” Captain Yew cried, slamming a heavy booted foot on the edge of said plank, making it wobble dangerously. Lani bobbed up and down to its vibrations, easily keeping her balance, and smirked.

“Berry was good, too,” offered a lookout. “Took my night shift day before last, when I pulled the Red Angler from the draw.”

A chorus of  “ayes” and snippets of anecdotes from the rest of the crew affirmed her statement, the captain nodding along sadly to each until the last of them died out. Again it was quiet. All fourteen eyes rested unhappily on Lani. She waited, smiling, bouncing her bound wrists on her thigh.

“Nothing to say?” Captain Yew said at last, looking down his nose seriously at her as he leaned more of his weight on the gangplank, threatening to push it clear off.

“This must be the first time she’s shut her yap since setting foot on our ship,” muttered one of the crew, someone Lani couldn’t see.

“Since the docks!” another cried, which brought a healthy number of cheers.

The captain nodded, raising his eyebrows at Lani in a “they’re right, you know,” kind of expression. “So! What’ll it be, Miss Lace? Either join your brother, or agree to take another look at those charts. A good hard look at ‘em. I would choose the latter,” he added in a loud whisper.

“Charts,” Lani said, startling, as if just remembering. “The, the, um, what were they—oh! The uh, the starmaps! Kind of a dark purple, more of a cloth than paper, with silver and emerald embroidery? Literally silver and emerald—not just the color, but thread made from the materials themselves? Lots of pretty cross-stitch around the border?”

“The starmaps that lead to the Giantess Skull with the Eternal Ore inside, yes, yes!” the captain said impatiently. “Quit fooling around and make your decision already! Death, or the charts. Now!”

Lani snapped her fingers in recognition. “Right, those charts. The ones in the secret cubby in the wall behind your desk, yes, of course.”

Captain Yew hesitated.

Lani tilted her head, slipping a hand up her shirt. “Oh wait. Not those ones. Unless you meant . . . these super important, very expensive, one-of-a-kind, written-by-the-three-sea-gods starmaps charting the course through the Dagger constellation to that millennium-old black star?” And she pulled out a rolled-up violet fabric that glinted when she waggled it slowly back and forth before the crew’s astonished eyes. She flopped the charts across her shoulder and leaned her chin on her fists, grinning mildly. “Rhodes did have their uses.”

The captain, red-faced, sputtered with all the calm of a storm, “Give. It. To me.”

Lani took a step back. “Or what,” she said playfully. “You’ll kick me?”

Captain Yew drew in a shaky breath and slowly, carefully withdrew his boot from the plank, pulling himself up to his full height. “The offer still stands, Miss Lace,” he said stiffly, folding his arms behind his back in a facade of control. “Death by the sea, or come back with the charts.”

First mate Crest fingered the pistol holstered on their belt, eyeing Lani’s stance carefully. She winked at them.

Lani lifted her chin, meeting the captain’s gray eyes. “I’ve never liked either-or choices,” she told him. “I’m much more of an and-and girl myself. Have the cake, and eat it. Greedy, I know, but I was rather spoiled as a child.” She smirked, lifting the starmaps high overhead. “You want these so bad? They certainly are to die for!”

She took another step back, into open air. In a funny parallel to what had happened less than five minutes before, the captain screamed her name and lunged for her, but it was too late, she was off the gangplank, she was falling, she was plummeting, with all the extra weight of the chains on her wrists and ankles. As she fell she laughed, closing her eyes and tipping her head back to enjoy the cold bite of the wind rippling through her hair and clothes. She kept a firm grip on the charts—it would be a pity to lose them now, after all the hard work Rhodes put into thieving them for her—and straightened out her body, tight as she could, to make herself go faster, faster. She only squinted open her eyes near the end to judge the angle between her body and the water, and adjusted accordingly.

When she hit the waves, she was confident her dive had been much, much cooler than the . . . whatever her brother’s flail-and-smack . . . thing . . . had been, and really, in the eyes of the Second God of the Sea, that was all that mattered.

So when Lani, holding her breath as she hovered in suspension for just a second in the frigid waters, opened her eyes to the sting of salt, she was not surprised to see a myriad of pale green eyes open up all around her, and look back at her.