Rising tide - Mel Odom [97]
Turning his attention back to the cog now that he was near enough to see it, Jherek knew from the way it had broken in half that the ship had been sheared by its enemy. Arrows jutted out along the hull above where he believed the waterline would have been. A man's body, bloated and swollen from its time at sea and showing signs of having been attacked by small marine predators, twisted in the ship's rigging that dangled down from the broken deck.
With the way the cog was tilted, Jherek knew nothing survived in the cargo hold. It had been broken open to the sea and all compartments filled. That left only the stern cabin.
Evidently Mornis had the same thought because the first mate swam for the cabin at once. The cabin's door was tucked away under the ladder leading to the stern castle. On its side as the ship was, the cabin door faced down.
The thumping echoed through the sea, sounding eerily displaced and more immediate in the water. The first mate put his shoulder to the door and pushed but couldn't budge it.
The thumping repeated, suddenly showing more vigor, and Jherek knew someone was still alive on the ship. He swam to the first mate's side. Mornis moved the candle, showing the gaps between door and frame had been pressed together by the structural damage done to the cog and the depth's pressing in at it. The lock inside held it closed.
Desperate, his time to stay underwater with the oxygen in his lungs already growing short, Jherek used his knife to pry out the hinge bolts, letting them drop to the ocean bed hundreds of feet below. He sunk his hook into the wood beside the door to give himself more leverage, then flipped around so he could slam his feet into the door.
When he kicked out the third time, already going lightheaded from lack of oxygen and from the effort he was expending, the door turned sideways in its frame.
Mornis reached up and yanked it away, then swam inside with the candle leading the way.
Jherek went after him, trusting that some kind of air existed inside the cabin if someone was still alive. If there wasn't, he felt he could still make the surface before he passed out.
Books and other debris swirled around in the murky water, lit up by the candle. Even as he neared the surface inside the cabin, he glimpsed the boy standing there against one wall, immersed up to his chest.
The boy couldn't have been over nine years old, Jherek knew as he surfaced. Small framed and lean, the boy clung to the sconce mounted on the wall with fading strength. He held onto a brass candlestick with the other, using it as a weapon. His black hair was plastered against his head, and his eyes and nose were reddened from crying.
Jherek took a deep, shuddering breath and waited, giving the boy space. Mornis knew the boy was panic-stricken and stayed back as well.
"Easy, lad," the first mate said softly. "We're here to help you. Heard you knocking. You look like you're about all done in."
"They're all dead!" the boy screeched, fresh tears wetting his face. He held the candlestick threateningly.
"I know, lad. We seen 'em." Mornis swam forward, offering his hand. "I need you to come with me. We've got to be getting you out of here."
"Stay away!"
"Lad, you've been trying to save yourself for a long time from the looks of things," Mornis said, "but you can't hold on much longer. This old ship, she ain't going to last much longer neither."
"I don't know you," the boy shrilled. "I want my father!"
Jherek felt helpless, watching the boy trapped between grief and fear. It was a bad place to be. He knew from personal experience. His father's voice haunted him. So, are you gonna be a pirate and take your place proper on Bun-yip, or ain't you? Live or die, boy. The choice is simple. He forced the words away, tucking them back into that piece of his mind where the nightmares hid.
"What's your name?" Jherek asked softly and calmly.
The boy refused