Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 338
by one rail with every kind of weapon and tool in their hands,
fighting to get to the longboat which was now over the side but
not yet cut free. I stood in the door under the madly turning
wheel and watched as they killed one another. The line was
suddenly cut and the boat began to heave away and those left at
the rail dove for it in their frenzy to escape what they were
certain was a doomed ship.
In moments the deck was vacant save for the dead, who
with strange animation slid from rail to rail. The longboat
vanished behind enormous waves. Alone save for my
cowering maids, I and the doomed ship drove into the open
ocean.
The rock we had hit was part of an out-thrust of the
archipelago few navigators knew of. It lay in a direction no
sane man had need to venture. But before the ship could sink,
it was driven aground. In the terrible light of the storm the
coast we were upon was visible only as a jumble of black
shards. My duennas refused to leave the familiarity of the
cabin even though the deck tossed under them as the ship
bucked to free itself from the rocks that held it. I cursed them
for fools and, binding my long hair behind me and taking a
knife and matches, climbed out along the foremast and leapt
into the dark.
I awoke to a fine morning. I was above the tide, half
buried in the sand. As I sat up and looked out at the sad
wreckage of the ship, I wept. I did not pause to think why
now, with no human audience, I did this. The ship was
submerged save for its masts, which tilted each in a different
direction. No one clung to them; I was certain my maids had
perished in the storm.
As I sat up I left an indentation of my own shape in the