The Ship Beyond Time (The Girl from Everywhere #2)(86)

I blinked at her. How had she guessed I might go to him? Then again, how could she imagine I wouldn’t? I gave her a wan smile and slipped the bottle into my pocket. Then I went to the rail to face Crowhurst.

He smiled when he saw me, but there was something behind it, an edge I hadn’t seen before. “How was Boeotia?”

“Enlightening.” A gust made my wet hair crackle; the wind was so cold, I was crowned in frost. “But you know that. You drank from the Mnemosyne.”

“Didn’t you?”

I looked at him then—at the glint in his eyes. “The price was too high for me. What did you sacrifice, Crowhurst? What have you lost?”

“Nothing!” he called back, a touch too loud. “I’ve won, Nixie.”

“You knew I could bring the water for Cook.”

“I knew you might,” he countered. “I also know you won’t leave.”

“I don’t have to. Gwen is taking James back to London. Your gambit failed, Crowhurst. You’ve lost.”

“I still have Kashmir!”

“I don’t think Blake will let you keep him just to spite me. Would you?” I turned to Blake, and I saw the answer in his face. I smiled grimly. “In fact, there’s only one move left for the both of you, if you want to know if you can change the past.”

Blake glanced from me to Crowhurst—he had always had so many questions. “What is it, Miss Song?”

“Let us take Dahut. Now, before the storm. Before the myth has a chance to end.”

Dahut shifted on her feet. “What does she mean, Father?”

Crowhurst ignored her. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you can go back to your native time and read the myths about Ker-Ys. You’ll know if the legend is altered. You’ll know what’s possible.”

“Go back?” Crowhurst’s jaw worked. Was he considering it? His hand went to the flask at his throat—no . . . to the brass key. “I told you. I can’t go back, not yet. But I have another move.”

“What is it?” I asked, but I had my answer when he pulled the chain over his neck.

“Call Cook back,” he said; there was a threat in his voice.

My heart pounded, but I could not do as he asked. “No.”

“Kashmir’s in the pit, Nixie.” Crowhurst gave me a thin smile. “If the town floods, he’ll drown first. Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”

Blake turned to him, eyes wide. “You would flood the town?”

“Not if she brings me Cook.” Crowhurst fitted the key to the lock.

“You can’t do this!” I called, but he rounded on me.

“Prove it!” Crowhurst roared. “Prove we can change things, Nixie!”

There was a challenge in his eyes; did he actually want me to stop him? But he was not the one I was trying to save. “You can prove it to all of us!” I cried. “Throw the key into the water!”

But Crowhurst only shook his head.

“Stop him!” I shouted to Blake, to Dahut, to the gods—but my cry was lost in the squeal of the gears.

Underfoot, the mechanism rumbled. Metal groaned as the gates slid open. The pressure from the high tide warped them in their tracks; they ground to a halt a foot apart. But a green waterfall poured through, spilling into the harbor.

The flood was coming.

On the wall, Blake grabbed for the key, but Crowhurst belted him across the jaw. He reeled, sliding down into the lee of the tower. I had to help—I had to close the gate. “Slate!” I screamed over the wind. “Bring us closer!”

“This is as close as I can get!”

Swearing, I ran to the mast, pulling myself up the ratlines, the halyard in my hand.

“What are you doing, Nixie?”

I didn’t bother answering—my father knew what love looked like. Stepping quickly to keep my momentum, I teetered out to the edge of the boom; without stopping to think, I leaped, swinging across the gap. There was a moment of terrifying freedom between ship and shore. Then I landed on the wall and stumbled into a run, my bare feet slapping the slick stone.

Spray soaked my legs as I ran. The sea was whipped to a frenzy, the water swirling in spouts and vortices. The harbor was filling quickly. I careened toward the tower. But Dahut was already there.

She put her hand on Crowhurst’s arm. “Close the gate!”

He only threw her off. “Bring the yacht to the wall! Quick, before the wharf is covered.” Then he frowned, patting his pockets. “Where the hell are my other keys?”

“I won’t let you do this,” she said, shaking her head. “I won’t let them all drown!”

She lunged for the key again, but Crowhurst grabbed her. She twisted in his arms, struggling as he yanked her away from the mechanism. Her eyes flashed and she pushed him, hard—Crowhurst stumbled, catching himself on the very lip of the wall. She dove at him again, but she was so small. They struggled . . . she screamed—

He swung her around and let her go.

She tumbled off the wall and into the harbor.

“Dahut!” I skidded to a stop at the edge, breathless, disbelieving. Below, the green water swirled to white where she’d gone down. At my feet, Blake groaned, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from the harbor. Crowhurst stood beside me, panting, both of us watching for a sign of Dahut. Would she surface? I did not see it happen.