He left, and I moved swiftly to Mira’s side. Fine. If it was up to me to move it, I would do it. I knelt and tried to pull the beam away from her but couldn’t budge it. “It’s too heavy,” she yelled to me. “Leave me, and get back below.”
“Never,” I shot back, tugging and pulling more. Splinters dug into my fingers, and my muscles burned. I managed to shift it slightly, but I was nowhere near setting her free. If it was so immobile, I supposed that meant Mira wasn’t going to fly off the ship anytime soon, but I’d feel better if she were below with everyone else. Steeling myself, I strained again, swearing I’d get it off her no matter the cost to myself. Nearing tears, I was startled when another set of hands suddenly joined me. It was Grant Elliott. I hadn’t seen him throughout most of the voyage. He’d made a couple more attempts to talk to me during our first week aboard, and after that, he’d all but disappeared.
“Pull with me,” he barked, in a tone much different than the genteel one he’d used on me. He glowered when the beam remained obstinate. “Damn it, are you even trying, girl?”
“Of course I am!” I yelled back.
“You both need to go—” attempted Mira.
“Be quiet,” Grant snapped to her. To me, he said, “We’ll do it on the count of three. Put all the strength you’ve got into it, and then dig up some you didn’t even know you had. One—two—three!”
We pulled, and I did what he’d ordered, digging deep into my reserves. I felt like my own arms were going to get ripped off, but Grant and I finally lifted the beam just enough for Mira to slide out her leg and free herself. He helped her unsteadily to her feet. “Can you walk?”
She gave a shaky nod, but as she moved forward, it was obvious her ankle was slowing her down. Grant and I each took one of her arms and helped her, making our coordination that much more difficult in the treacherous conditions. Winds wailed around us, mingling with the sailors’ cries. More than one yelled at us to get below, but most rushed past, uncaring if we fell overboard.
We finally made it across the rolling deck to one of the entrances below. As we were about to enter, Mira pointed and cried, “Adelaide.”
I followed where she indicated. It took a moment to see what she was pointing to, since nearly everything was a blur from the storm. But then, far out on the dark waters, in the haze of the tempest, I could make out what her sharp eyes had seen. The Gray Gull. It was a little farther out than it usually was from us, and from this distance, it appeared to be tossed about on the waves like a child’s toy, rocking precariously back and forth. Sometimes it tipped so far right or left that I was certain there was no way it could right itself.
Tamsin. Tamsin was aboard it.
Did we look the same to them? Were we flailing that much? I had no time to give it much thought. “Stop gaping! Go!” Grant ordered us. “Hurry!”
We made it below, but all we gained was a reprieve from the sleet and wind; the ship still pitched frightfully. Grant saw us back to the Glittering Court’s common room and turned around. “Where are you going?” Mira asked.
He barely glanced back. “To see if any other fools need help.”
Mira watched him dash away, her eyes smoldering with anger. “Men get to do everything.”
“You want to go back out there?”
“I’d rather do something useful than sit around and worry about my dress being wet.”
Miss Bradley caught sight of us in the doorway. “Girls! Get in here! Thank Uros you’re safe.”
A number of the girls were praying to the god. A few others had gotten sick, but that was a small thing, compared to everything else going on. Mira and I found a corner and sat down, wrapping our arms around each other.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked.
She nodded, touching her ankle. “It’s sore, but nothing’s broken. A sprain, at most. I was lucky. The beam just fell in a way to trap me but didn’t crush it.”
I held her closer, trying to hold back my tears. “You saw that ship. Tamsin’s over there.”
“She’ll be okay,” Mira said fiercely. “She’s a survivor. She won’t let a storm stop her from landing a rich husband.”
But neither of us could find any humor in the thought. And really, I supposed we should worry just as much about ourselves as the roiling seas continued to toss us around. We clung to each other like that for hours, each of us holding our breath when we hit one of those tremendous waves that seemed certain to capsize us. It must have been the middle of the night by then, but there was no way any of us could sleep.
A lull came at one point, making me think we’d escaped, but it was short-lived before the storm swept us up again, plunging us into another excruciating vigil. When the heaving subsided again, returning us to a calmer pace, I didn’t trust it. I braced myself for another return of the tempest, but it didn’t come. Mira lifted her head from my shoulder and raised her gaze to mine, each of us thinking the same thing: Was it possible this was over?
Our answer came a little while later when Cedric arrived in our room. He too was pale, obviously shaken by what we’d just endured. He scanned the room, taking note of Mira and me in particular, and then turned to Miss Bradley.
“My father talked to the captain, and we’re out of it. Amazingly, no one was lost, and there was no damage to the ship. It’s unclear how the cargo fared, but we’ll figure that out later.” Around me, girls gave small cries of relief. “It’s still night, and as soon as the clouds clear, the captain can assess our position. In the meantime, get what rest you can.”