The Misadventures of Anna Cabbot

Mixed Media

Anna failed in such spectacular fashion to stick her dismount from her hammock that Carson laughed so hard he choked on air. Her elbow was going to turn all kinds of black and blue, and her pride was as dented as her ass felt, but she laughed anyway. Nearby crewmen who'd witnessed the carnage either studiously ignored them or hid grins behind their hands.

After a quick breakfast — and one of the baby aspirin from the bottle she'd had securely sealed in a plastic bag — she stood next to Jenny at the wheel.

"Our reaction is quicker because we're smaller," Jenny explained. "A frigate, like the one we need to find, is going to take longer to tack."

"Turning right?" Anna made a zig-zag motion with her hand.

Jenny swiveled slowly and fixed her with a look.

"I don't know shit about ships, remember? But I learn pretty quick."

"Your first lesson, then." She pulled Anna to her, sandwiching her between herself and the wheel. Jenny positioned Anna's hands correctly, and left her own overtop.

Anna shivered. Jenny's body heat was warm through the back of her her shirt, her breath soft in Anna's one ear.

"A lady likes a steady hand," Jenny murmured. "Firm and competent. If you're afraid so will she be."

Nodding, Anna swallowed audibly.

"The wind is on the starboard side," Jenny continued. "The right side. We are on the starboard tack. To switch to port tack, we give orders for the sails to be adjusted." She must have given some signal to Pudge, who stood to the side, who in turn relayed that to the crewman. A whistle sounded. Anna watched the man who'd been teaching Carson how to tie different knots scramble to his feet and dart for a place by the foremast.

Jenny's hands moved hers and the wheel turned quickly. There was a slight lag and then the ship responded, bearing left and momentarily into the wind. Yards were adjusted, lines tightened, and the bow slipped past. The sails filled and the Lady jumped eagerly through the water once more.

"Check your compass," Jenny reminded her.

Anna looked. Jenny's iron grip on her hands turned the wheel again. The compass wobbled and settled, the lantern next to it unlit in the daylight.

The lantern.

Her mind conjured an image of Deirdre, their lantern suspended by invisible threads between their hands. Deirdre and the lantern and the glowing light cradled carefully between Ian's fingers.

Jenny might have been real and solid behind her, but she'd come from the Endless Sea, hadn't she? Everyone in this odd middle ground who had come from there — barring herself, Carson, and Nigel — would eventually go back there.

Anna looked at the lantern again. It was a question of when not could.

She slipped her hands from beneath Jenny's and turned, the two of them nose to nose. "I have to send you back. I have to send you all back. Him included." She didn't need to specify who he was.

"Can you do that?" Jenny asked.

Theoretically, sure.

"Yes." Anna squared her shoulders. "Yes, I can. And I can find him, too." She'd done it once before, tracking the trail of magical onto the lake. Nigel had left her breadcrumbs — he'd lead them straight to him.

"Find me a course to set." Jenny's brown eyes hardened. "You're sure of this?"

"I'm sure enough." She slid out from between Jenny and the wheel. She took a deep breath, exhaled through her mouth, and felt outwards while stroking her Evrael. She blinked; magic glistened on the water like an oil slick, a definitive trail headed off to the right. She pointed.