The ship was dying.
Vera knew the sound of something breaking apart — she'd heard it once before, on a smaller boat, in darker water — and this was that sound multiplied by every plank and beam and nail holding the deck together. The giant's hand had done something irreversible when it grabbed them. The wood was splitting at the seams, slow at first, then faster, the way a crack in ice spreads before you realize you're already falling through.
Already by her side Soren straightened out from his hunch.
The dragged speech was gone the same way it had gone in the throne room. What was left underneath it was the same thing Naren had seen before he hit the floor — something efficient and cold and already calculating.
"Elaaaaarrrrraaa."
Elara stood at the edge of what remained of the deck. Her sleeping mask was still pushed up on her forehead. She looked at the giant the way you look at something you've read about but didn't believe until now.
She clicked her tongue.
"First class."
Not a question. Not panic. Just the flat acknowledgment of someone doing arithmetic they don't like the answer to.
"Soren. We just live here. Nothing more, nothing less."
Vera's ears perked as the realization settled in. Her heart heavy with decisions. The two girls beside her already running. To where though? Even if they swam a kilometer out they would still be within the Giant's clutches.
Vera's gaze landed on the lifeless body of a boy in crimson scarf. She thought back to the slave ship. To the Jackpot! piercing through her ears. To the boy in curly red hair who spoke with no worries.
Vera's mind focused on the last words he said about her. Calling her useless. She was more trouble than she was worth he had said. Her hands clamped into a fist. She had to grow up.
'Please don't die.'
The giant was ahead. She could see it, barely — the rusted metal fingers still wrapped around what was left of the hull, the massive arm rising out of the dense fog like a ghostly apparition. The eye was gone now. Fixated on something else. Maybe it was the Lieutenant, or maybe even the Captain. But she wasn't going to worry about that now.
Her own eyes fixed on the Giant's hand. Scratches and metal scraps hanging loose from it's fingers. There was a hole, just large enough to sit in. Maybe.
Vera grabbed Naren's arms and pulled.
He didn't help. Dead weight was the right phrase for it — she'd never understood the phrase until now, the specific horrible heaviness of a body that wasn't participating. She got him onto her back, grabbed him under the arms, and dragged.
Her boots slipped on the tilting deck. Her face landing on the wooden deck with a thump. Once more she dug her feet on the angular wood. Notching it as best she could.
The ship lurched. Something beneath them groaned and gave. The deck split six feet to her left, a clean dark gap opening into nothing, and Vera pulled harder without looking at it. Looking at it would only tell her how far down the water was.
She didn't want to know.
Her shoulders burned with pain. Naren's heels dragging two lined through the splintering wood behind her. Her back crumbled slightly, she pushed back up, readjusting her grip. Fingers locking even harder now.
The deck tilted further, gravity now staring her down with it's passive gaze. Nothing could stay still now — weapons, coats, the debris of ninety-seven privates — all moving in the same direction. Toward the edge, towards the dark murky waters that promised nothing but tragedies.
Vera's feet found a split in the deck and she used it as a brace, planting her heel, redistributing her weight. She pulled. Naren moved six inches.
She pulled again. Her thoughts swimming out of her head, leaving nothing but emptiness in her mind. Another six inches.
'Tooheavy.'
The thought was unconscious. She almost regretted thinking it. As if keeping it locked away would have somehow made Naren lighter. But now along with that thought came of wave of several others.
'Leave.'
'He left you.'
'What are you doing?'
The devil's soothing voice swirled around in her mind. He was just too heavy and the deck was still tilting. There was still at twenty feet until the Giant's fingers.
Vera's arms pulsed in waves. Her grip trembled, going numb. Her eyes wavered, vision blurry from exhaustion.
She pulled again anyway. Worth it or not. She needed pawns.
The ship screamed — that was the only word for it, the sound the hull made as something fundamental gave way in the middle — and the tilt became a lurch and Vera lost her footing entirely. She went down hard on one knee, still holding Naren's arm, sliding, the gap rushing toward them both.
Her free hand caught a broken railing. It shivered from the pressure.
For a second she just breathed. Her knee was bleeding. Her palms were torn. The railing was cracking under her grip and she could feel it giving, the way everything on this ship was giving, slowly and then all at once.
She looked at Naren's face.
He looked the way he always looked. Like he'd just decided to take a nap somewhere inconvenient. Like none of this was particularly his problem. The scarf had fallen partially over his face.
She pulled the scarf back from his face.
Then she grabbed him again and pulled.
'I can...do this.'
The railing snapped. Falling fast and splashing into the waters after a couple seconds.
Vera was already moving. Half crawling, having dragging across the last stretch of the deck. The wood cracked, splintering under her hands, little crumbs digging into her palms.
The giant's arm was close enough now that she could see the rust patterns on the metal, the barnacles crusted along the lower sections, the seams where different pieces of it had been joined together a very long time ago.
She reached the wrist.
The metal was cold and slick but there were ridges in it — joints, seams, places where she could get her fingers in. She got one hand locked in. Then the other, pulling her onto the little divot etched from who knows what.
Then she turned back for Naren, leaning out over the gap, grabbed his collar with both hands and hauled.
He came up slowly. His weight fought her every inch.
The ship finally dropped below them. Several pieces of the enormous awe inspiring construct now splashing into big rippled in the obsidian surface below. The stern going first, then the middle, the whole structure folding inward as deep dark waters called out to it. The sounds large, then absent. Disappearing just as fast as they appeared.
Vera's gaze lingered on the last of the ripples. Nothing reflecting up at her, just emptiness down below.
The giant moved slightly. Readjusting itself. It wasn't rough, just a shift in its weight. The arm rotating slightly, falling to its side. Vera tumbled around, holding onto the ridges with one hand and Naren with the other.
Then it settled. She leaned back on the cold metal surface. She was freezing, bleeding, hurting all over. Her palms were riddled with tiny wood particles etched in her skin. Her knees plastered open. Her hair rough and disheveled. Her chest heaving, deeply, in and out.
Above her she could barely make out small marmalade streaks slithering through the deep fog. The sun must be setting.
Tears swelled in her face, but she didn't cry. She wiped them away before they could stream. She wasn't allowed to cry. After all, grown ups don't cry.
She turned her face towards Naren. His peaceful face not at all acknowledging the hell that just passed. The crimson scarf barely latching onto his skin, refusing to let go.
"Please save me."