A sickening squelch made her gag, and Vel pushed herself away from the captain. Pulling a hand up, she covered her mouth, staring at his face. His mouth hung wide open like the whisper of a scream he never got to release, not when her dagger was more than halfway through his head, no crossguard to block it from doing so.

  “I killed him,” she said, eyes wide and hands shaking.

  The door burst open, and Vel whipped around to see Olave. While she would have liked the time to deal with her grim realization, she didn’t allow it. Instead, madness overtook her. She grabbed the dagger from Erl’s head, his body twitching as she yanked it out. In one motion, she chucked the bloodied weapon.

  It slid into the surprised Olave’s chest, and he fell backwards, hitting the deck hard.

  Leaning towards the captain’s sword, Vel picked it up, realizing the pirates that’d stopped to stare at her from behind Olave. Standing up, she gripped the sword tightly.

  “He’s dead,” she said. “He’s dead! Your captain is dead!” She screamed, curling her free hand into a fist.

  One at a time, each pirate drew his cutlass.

  So many, Vel thought, knowing she couldn’t face them all, and now she’d lost any leverage she had, though part of her wondered if the pirates would have even cared for their captain. Probably not. They were thieves and murderers after all.

  She stepped towards the door, then was thrown as the ship rocked violently, sword bouncing from her hand. Pressing her hands into the floor, Vel pushed herself up to look at what was happening. A monstrous cry sounded, followed by the sound of rushing water. It, along with the sound of screaming men, poured straight into the cabin, rolling over her.

  [Skill gained: Water Beam]

  [0.5 Magic added]

  Shoved against Erl’s body, Vel grabbed at the leg of a chair, sputtering water as she resisted its sweep and forced herself away from the evidence of her own crime. But as the water kept coming, the chair moved. Letting go of that, Vel grasped at the nearest table leg, using both hands to leverage herself against the tide.

  Finally, the ship rocked back the other way, the water’s momentum thrown to the side. Vel swung, cringing as her left ribs smacked into chairs that were still pushed in. She gasped at the new sharpness that shot through her torso from her left side, then coughed out the water she’d accidentally swallowed.

  [Tough Hide level 56]

  It was too much.

  Letting go of the table, Vel allowed the water to tumble her to the back of the cabin, coughing more as the water invaded her mouth and nose. Then she went under, water rolling over her form and drowning it as it pinned her against the base of the couch. She held a hand over her mouth and nose, if only to plug them and prevent her burning lungs from taking over.

  That didn't matter.

  Her form convulsed, jerking sharply in the water as she grew desperate for air. She pushed against the couch, and while the current was strong, her legs were stronger, if only minutely. It was enough to push her up and over the ledge of the couch, only to be pinned against the window.

  Still, she didn't surface. Her form shook violently, and she fought against the urge to breathe in. Opening her eyes, salt stinging at them, Vel looked through the blurry landscape, and saw something flying at her through the water.

  Removing her hand from her nose and mouth, she stretched to grab the window’s frame, and yanked herself out of the way as something large and metallic slammed into the glass.

  It cracked. resonating loudly in the water, more cracks sounded, and Vel could feel the glass behind her giving away. With one final push from the rushing water, the glass shattered, part of it scraping across Vel’s back as she flew from the captain’s cabin.

  For a brief moment, she fell, desperately gasping in air before plunging straight into the ocean.

  There's no floor! was her first thought, recalling her first “swim” in the river. She hadn't swam so much as bounced off the riverbed. Here, however, Vel just grabbed at water uselessly. She kicked, that part seeming like the smart thing to do, and for a brief moment, she managed to bob back up, taking in the smallest amount of air before sinking.

  Splashing with her hands to resurface, Vel managed to do it a second time before sinking. This time, however, everything ached, and that sharpness in her side was getting to her. Her muscles weakened, fatigued by her battle for air, but . . .

  Don't give up! she thought, fiercely kicking. Just a glimpse, that was all she needed for direction on where to swim to. Surfacing, sore eyes opened, she gasped, then sank under. She did not, however, close her eyes, watching the long tail of a massive blue sea serpent dance beneath the Roaring Beauty’s hull.

  The beast dived into the water on the other side, its body wrapping around the ship. It tightened, and Vel could hear the painful creaks of the ship as it resisted. It held strong for a long while, then caved, the beast shattering the ship’s hull and snapping the entire thing in half.

  Sigurd . . . Amalia . . . Vel thought, finally relieving her eyes against the stinging water by closing them. She kicked her feet, finding that she'd sunk much further than before, and feeling the pressure of her lungs begging for air. This time when she surfaced, the world spun, a lightheadedness settling in. She couldn't afford to do this much longer.

  Nor could her muscles. Her legs gave out, and her arms felt limper than her hair was. Swallowed by the water, Vel felt herself gradually sinking. Further. Further. She floated down, lungs beginning to burn and heart aching.

  Her friends couldn't have survived that wreckage, could they? They were trapped in a cage, and Vel was their best hope. She couldn't even swim.

  Further.

  This is it, she thought. Her body jerked in the water violently, its need for air nearly outweighing her refusal to open her lips and suck in a breath.

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  Further.

  Reincarnation. She would die here, then move on to the next life, never to remember what happened in this one. Trapped in an endless cycle all over again.

  Further.

  Edard. He'd never know that she didn't die on an altar. He'd go on, thinking she’d chosen to die over him. Never would he realize that she chose him.

  No! Vel thought. Mustering what strength she had left, she kicked her legs. Back and forth, rhythmically, then stretched her arms, pushing water beneath her. Opening her eyes, she stared up at the surface, crawling towards it. Bit by bit, she climbed.

  It. Was. So far. Her lungs were on fire. She pushed, and as she neared, Vel couldn’t take it anymore, opening her mouth prematurely.

  A hand thrust into the water, grabbing the shoulder of her shirt. Sucking in a large breath, Vel found herself coughing air. Oh, sweet, beautiful air. She shuddered as her form was dragged over the ledge of a small boat, then found herself looking up at a soaking wet Sigurd.

  He stared down at her with cross eyes. “I'll kill you myself if you ever let water drown you again,” he threatened.

  The smallest laugh left Vel between her coughs, and she winced, rocking the little rowboat as she sat up. Before her sat Amalia, looking like a soaked kitten, yellow hair flattened down to her waist.

  “You are terrible at greetings,” Amalia said.

  “Y’all just suck,” Aden said from behind her, then looked over Amalia’s shoulder and grinned. “Are those broken ribs I sense?” he asked.

  At the mention of it, Vel grimaced, moving a hand to hold her left side. “I,” she coughed, “suppose.”

  “Okay. I rescind my statement. Most of you suck,” Aden said. He held his hand out towards Velmira, and much like he'd done for her nails, he soothed the pain in her side. Being healed unnaturally was . . . discomforting to say the least.

  Vel cringed when her ribs snapped back into place, causing her to jolt a little too. She sighed once it was all over, and promptly decided that lying back down at her awkward angle wasn't such a bad idea.

  “Okay, now all of you suck again,” Aden said upon completion of his task.

  “Is that all you care about? Injured people?” Amalia asked the teenager.

  “No,” he retorted, “I care about custard too.”

  “Of course you do,” Amalia muttered.

  “Look, I'll be the best damn [healer] you've ever met,” he argued, as if that meant something important to the conversation. He certainly believed it did. At least, Vel thought, he had ambition.

  “You better be the best damn rower, Kid. Pick up those oars,” Sigurd shot back, gripping his own oars and heaving them through the water to push them further away from the sea beast.

  “How did you escape?” Vel asked, having caught her breath.

  “I didn’t miss!” Amalia said grinning.

  “Yeah, on the hundredth try,” Sigurd added. “She was going to blow our ears before she blew the lock.”

  “And here I thought I was dramatic,” Amalia huffed, resting her chin in her hand and her elbow on her knee.

  “You were!” Sigurd huffed. “Woman, you were practically sobbing when━”

  “Don’t you woman me,” Amalia pointed. “Disrespectful arse.”

  Vel laughed. She couldn’t help it, watching the two bicker. It was atrociously silly, the things they fought over, and at the end of the day, did it matter? No. They were alive. They were all ridiculously alive! Covering her mouth to quiet her hysterics, she watched as both Sigurd and Amalia stared at her, beginning to give their own nervous laughs until they were real.

  “What are we laughing about?” Aden asked.

  Oh, that only made it worse. Vel shook her head, waving a hand at Aden, as if to tell him not to worry about it, but . . . well, that likely wasn’t going to prevent the teenager from asking questions.

  “No, seriously, what’s so funny?” he asked again.

  “You, Kid, if you don’t keep rowing,” Sigurd said, a smile still across his face.

  “You’re no fun,” Aden huffed.

  “As I recall, you thought we all sucked,” Amalia said.

  “Well, yeah, but . . .”

  “But?”

  Aden conceded, sighing. “Fine,” he said, and rowed.

  Taking a deep breath, Vel pushed herself up a bit, if only to find a more comfortable position. “So what happened after you got out of the cell?” she asked.

  “A lot of running,” Sigurd answered.

  “You’re great at summaries,” Amalia said sarcastically. “We made our way up to the main deck after Sigurd knocked the daylights out of the guys in the lower decks. That was about the time we saw the sea serpent rearing its head for an attack. I tried to run to get you, but someone wouldn’t let me.” She eyed Sigurd.

  “Velmira is talented, she can handle herself, right?” Sigurd asked, looking at Vel. There was a knowing look on his face, one that made her feel guilty about what she’d done.

  Olave would have opened the door at about that time, Vel thought, considering that maybe the slimy man hadn’t come to save Erl, but had come to report about something else. If Sigurd and Amalia had been looking, they’d have seen her kill a man.

  “I . . .” Vel started, furrowing her brow. The guilt was there, but at the same time, she found herself far more worried about something else━she didn’t regret it. I’m not evil, she thought, looking down. She hadn’t killed anyone before, so how could she have been evil, but now she did it, and while it was a shock, she wasn’t sure what that turned her into.

  “It was you or them, Velmira,” Sigurd reminded. “What would have happened if you didn’t?”

  “He was going to kill you both,” Vel said, sure of that bit. She pushed herself up, looking past Sigurd and towards the wreckage. The sea serpent was busy dragging the second half down, and there were two other rowboats on the water, each containing a meager number of the crew. None, however, were bothered with their prisoners rowing away.

  “What happened?” Aden asked.

  The healer went ignored.

  “I feared they were going to do something more nefarious with me,” Vel whispered, watching the ship send ripples through the water as the serpent dragged it beneath the surface.

  “They were pirates. They would have done something more nefarious,” Sigurd said, looking towards where they were headed. “He could have had you create silk in the dungeon, but instead had you come to his cabin. What do you think he was doing?”

  Vel shivered at that thought, then shook her head. He deserved to die, a little voice said, and she grappled with it; argued with it. No, no one deserves to die, right? she thought, considering how many people would say the same about her. She deserved to die, if only for prosperity and posterity, and even more so for running away from her “sacred duties”, and . . .

  “I don’t know what’s right anymore,” she said, and looked up towards Sigurd.

  The man sighed, and looked at Amalia. “You any good at rowing?” he asked.

  “I can take over for a bit,” Amalia offered. Sigurd slid the oars from their homes on the edges of the boat, then handed them to Amalia, who gave them a new home in two slots on either side of her. She rowed, though not as vigorously as the hunter had.

  Sigurd turned to Vel, facing her. He reached out, offering a hand to her, and she took it. Pulling her upright, he placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Velmira,” he said, “I’m not your father, but . . . I was close to being one. If you were my daughter, I couldn’t be more proud. You protected yourself. There is nothing wrong in protecting yourself, even if it requires taking the life of someone that would do you harm.”

  Staring at the hunter for a long moment, Vel furrowed her brow. What he said resonated with her, but she struggled with the idea that any form of killing was wrong.

  “She’s fighting eighteen years of the church’s teachings, Sigurd,” Amalia said.

  The hunter sighed, nodding, his hands slipping from Vel’s shoulders.

  “I don’t regret it,” Vel said. “I killed them to save the lives of others, and . . . that has to be okay, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Amalia said, and Vel turned back to look at her. She’d stopped rowing, long enough for Sigurd to beckon the oars back with a hand. After handing them over, she looked at Vel. “It’s the same dilemma in war. Soldiers must take the lives of their enemies, else they’ll lose their own, or their comrades might.”

  Raising her brow, Vel opened her mouth, a thought coming to her. “Edard!” she said triumphantly. “He spoke of this before, and . . . well . . . Struggled with the same things. Soldiers have families and loved ones, they’re . . .” she sighed. “It will always feel wrong, and that’s a good thing, I think.”

  “Yes,” Sigurd nodded. “But you can’t let it slow you down from the things you need to do as well.”

  Velmira nodded, taking a deep breath. She felt as if she was letting the weight of her crimes out as she released her breath, even closing her eyes to do so. She had killed. It was hard, and certainly would haunt her more later, but for now, Sigurd was right. There were things she needed to do.

  “So, how do we get off this avenging ocean?” she asked.

  Sigurd chuckled. “That’s more like it,” he said, then pointed. “I see something on the horizon. We row until we get there.”