behind her closed eyes. As the water pushed and pulled, she curled her body inward and cupped her arms over her head until the wave spilled across the deck and finally lost its power.
Emmeline crawled toward the main mast, ignoring the searing pain in her knee. The central stairs, she believed, descended into the dark hold where she was hoped she could find a place to hide. She’d heard the soldiers complain about not being able to find anything in the belly of the ship, that the stacks of crates and barrels were too difficult to search. Emmeline pushed forward, knowing it might be the only place she could hide until the storm passed. That is, if they all didn’t end up at the bottom of the sea.
Only a body length from the stair opening, Emmeline’s heart quickened with hope. A gust of wind whipped around her, threatening to topple her, but she dug her nails into the slippery deck and pushed forward. Only a few more crawling steps and she would be safe from the sailors.
A booted foot crashed down on her back and her arms collapsed underneath the force. Emmeline cried out, but the sound stopped short as the full weight of the sailor pressed into her back, his boot pinning her to the deck and pressing the life out of her.
“Not so fast,” he said as he grabbed her bodice and yanked her to her feet. He pushed her forward but her knee buckled and she lurched forward. Catching her fall, the sailor tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of flour, seemingly unaffected by her kicking legs and pounding fists.
The sailors followed, cursing and spiting, and blaming her for the storm. “Witch! Witch! Witch!” they shouted.
The wind hushed and the rain lessened as if the elements were pausing long enough to witness the last Incenaga Witch take her final breath.
“She knows her death is near!” a sailor shouted. “Her powers are weakening.”
A muffled thump silenced the sailor.
“Ha! I told you, my Pap said water would stop her.”
“ Why don’t we just tie her up out here so we don’t have to kill her?”
Emmeline twisted her neck to see who had spoken. A sailor braced himself between two others, his arms over his head as the others walloped his head. She suspected he had been the one to suggest she live.
“We can’t just leave her,” one of the walloping sailors said. “She ’ll tell someone it was us who took her out here. Plus, she’ll only get mad and start a new storm as soon as she dries.”
“She’ll never dry in the ocean,” another shouted.
They reached the rail and Emmeline pushed against the sailor.
“Please! No!” she cried. “I have no power. I’m not causing the storm!” Didn’t they know she needed fire?
The sailor gripped her waist and began pulling her off his shoulder, but Emmeline grabbed a fistful of his wet shirt and held on. She figured he couldn’t throw her if she didn’t let go. Another swell rocked the ship and the sailor lost his footing. In an effort to catch his own fall, he pushed her away and Emmeline found herself plunging toward the sea.
Chapter 14. Unclaimed
Emmeline shrieked and threw her hands forward, desperate to find any sort of hold. Her fingers grazed the edge of the railing, and somehow managing to get a grip, she curled her fingers over the slick wood. Her body slammed into the side of the boat and her breath left her for the second time that night. With her feet dangling toward the turbulent waters, the waves licked up to drag her under. She held on with all her strength as the sky let loose another downpour and her hair whipped around her body like a thousand strips of cold leather.
Emmeline’s fingers strained, threatening to fail her at any moment. Gripping the rail from the safe side, the sailors looked down on her with sneers. One of them raised his fist as if to pound her fingers, but his hand stopped midair, his face turning white. He lowered his fist and turned his back toward Emmeline, concealing her fingers barely
Emmeline crawled toward the main mast, ignoring the searing pain in her knee. The central stairs, she believed, descended into the dark hold where she was hoped she could find a place to hide. She’d heard the soldiers complain about not being able to find anything in the belly of the ship, that the stacks of crates and barrels were too difficult to search. Emmeline pushed forward, knowing it might be the only place she could hide until the storm passed. That is, if they all didn’t end up at the bottom of the sea.
Only a body length from the stair opening, Emmeline’s heart quickened with hope. A gust of wind whipped around her, threatening to topple her, but she dug her nails into the slippery deck and pushed forward. Only a few more crawling steps and she would be safe from the sailors.
A booted foot crashed down on her back and her arms collapsed underneath the force. Emmeline cried out, but the sound stopped short as the full weight of the sailor pressed into her back, his boot pinning her to the deck and pressing the life out of her.
“Not so fast,” he said as he grabbed her bodice and yanked her to her feet. He pushed her forward but her knee buckled and she lurched forward. Catching her fall, the sailor tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of flour, seemingly unaffected by her kicking legs and pounding fists.
The sailors followed, cursing and spiting, and blaming her for the storm. “Witch! Witch! Witch!” they shouted.
The wind hushed and the rain lessened as if the elements were pausing long enough to witness the last Incenaga Witch take her final breath.
“She knows her death is near!” a sailor shouted. “Her powers are weakening.”
A muffled thump silenced the sailor.
“Ha! I told you, my Pap said water would stop her.”
“ Why don’t we just tie her up out here so we don’t have to kill her?”
Emmeline twisted her neck to see who had spoken. A sailor braced himself between two others, his arms over his head as the others walloped his head. She suspected he had been the one to suggest she live.
“We can’t just leave her,” one of the walloping sailors said. “She ’ll tell someone it was us who took her out here. Plus, she’ll only get mad and start a new storm as soon as she dries.”
“She’ll never dry in the ocean,” another shouted.
They reached the rail and Emmeline pushed against the sailor.
“Please! No!” she cried. “I have no power. I’m not causing the storm!” Didn’t they know she needed fire?
The sailor gripped her waist and began pulling her off his shoulder, but Emmeline grabbed a fistful of his wet shirt and held on. She figured he couldn’t throw her if she didn’t let go. Another swell rocked the ship and the sailor lost his footing. In an effort to catch his own fall, he pushed her away and Emmeline found herself plunging toward the sea.
Chapter 14. Unclaimed
Emmeline shrieked and threw her hands forward, desperate to find any sort of hold. Her fingers grazed the edge of the railing, and somehow managing to get a grip, she curled her fingers over the slick wood. Her body slammed into the side of the boat and her breath left her for the second time that night. With her feet dangling toward the turbulent waters, the waves licked up to drag her under. She held on with all her strength as the sky let loose another downpour and her hair whipped around her body like a thousand strips of cold leather.
Emmeline’s fingers strained, threatening to fail her at any moment. Gripping the rail from the safe side, the sailors looked down on her with sneers. One of them raised his fist as if to pound her fingers, but his hand stopped midair, his face turning white. He lowered his fist and turned his back toward Emmeline, concealing her fingers barely
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