Mihail gritted his teeth against the pain from the burns on his shoulder and back. His first mate was a good sailor, but right now they needed him at the wheel, needed his connection to the sea to draw every breath of speed he could coax from Sweet Selkie. When he was at the wheel, he felt like a bridge between wind and water, knew exactly how to turn his ship to keep the sails full and fast.
The Black Coats’ ships were still gaining on them. Bigger ships. More sails. They would catch up to them. Sooner or later. He couldn’t think about that. He had to keep his mind on his ship, on the sea, on the wind.
His first mate stepped close to him, and said quietly, “We don’t have enough fresh water to see us through the journey. Not enough food, either. The smaller boats that fled with us couldn’t have taken on enough supplies for the people they’re carrying.”
“I know,” Mihail replied. “But if we stop anywhere, the Black Coats will have us.”
“And if we don’t, the lack of water will finish us off for them.”
“I know.” Mihail swallowed, wishing violently that his first mate hadn’t mentioned water. “We can’t lead the Black Coats to Sealand. We can’t lead them to safe harbor.” Can’t lead them to Jenny and the boys. “That big island we pass on our way north, the one across from the western bay. What have you heard about it?”
The first mate rubbed his chin and gave Mihail an uneasy look. “Awhile back, when it was still safe enough to visit a tavern in Seahaven, I had a drink with a man who usually sails out of Wellingsford. He said the folks north of there call it Selkie Island. Said it’s not a place to go unless you’ve no choice. Strange folk there.”
“Fae?”
“Maybe. He wasn’t sure—or wouldn’t say. Just said the captains he’d shipped with preferred to stay closer to the mainland shore, but if a captain spotted a lot of seals that seemed a bit too interested in his ship, he’d lower some sails and call out to any fishing boat nearby, asking if they could deliver a small gift to the Lord of the island. Said the captains always kept a little cargo in easy reach for just that reason.”
“Did the fishing boats take the gifts?”
“Aye, they did—and most headed straight back for that island. Safe waters. That’s what the man said. Sea pirates are afraid to sail within sight of that island. Those that do usually don’t sail away again.”
Safe waters. They needed safe waters. Could they find food and fresh water on the island? Could they find any help against the Black Coats?
He looked up at the sky sliding toward twilight. There were still birds riding the air currents. Were they real birds, or were the Fae already watching them? If there were Fae on Selkie Island, did they know the Fae on Ronat Isle?
Safe waters. They needed safe waters.
“We’ll adjust our course,” Mihail said. “We’ll head for that island. If the Fae do live there, maybe they’ll help us.” Maybe.
Right now, it gave him a grain of hope—and a grain was more than he’d had an hour ago.