Jedit

Something was very wrong.

Adira Strongheart revived because she was freezing.

Wind sucked and slobbered at her wet hair and chilled her lax body. Every gust set her teeth chattering, but she couldn't move to get warm. People carped to hold still until she wanted to lash out and thump someone. Gradually words filtered through the fog infesting her brain.

'Not much seaway, so b-bear down! H-help me h-hold her, she's prickly as a s-s-sea robin! J-Jedit, will you?'

Adira was mashed by a sopping wet arm big as a rolled carpet. Spray stung her face, a salt chill. All this water, she fretted. Surely the ship must be sinking. Then she recalled and her eyes flew open.

'Wh'where are we?' Her lips could barely move, she was so cold. Her hand throbbed too, as if a shark gnawed it.

'M-marooned,' chattered Wilemina.

'S-soon to d-die,' added Simone.

Even awake, Adira couldn't see. The night sky was streaks of dark and darker gray. Wind howled all around. Spume from breaking waves spattered them like rain. Adira tried to turn, but couldn't.

Simone the Siren rasped, 'Damn your eyes, Dira, stay put! There's barely room enough without you jigging like a lobster in a pot!'

Groping and floundering, Adira was pulled up half-sitting almost in Jedit's sopping lap. She croaked her feeble question again. Song of the Sea King, but she was thirsty! And the night so black!

'We're cast away, Adira.' Jedit's voice was a shuddery purr. 'On a rock barely big as a oxcart. Nine of us. Simone and Wilemina and Whistledove, and you and I, and four from Buzzard's Bay.'

'What? How?' Adira peered at darkness. The only luminosity was the clash of sea foam on breakers. She couldn't even make out her companions. 'Why not swim for shore?'

'It's three or four miles, Adira.' Simone could barely speak for shivering. 'We'd never make it.'

'Nor can we tell direction in the dark,' whimpered Wilemina. 'The tide changes and the surf runs every which way. And my arm is broken!'

'We can't anchor here!' Adira's reason and strength were returning, though every time she moved her head, it throbbed as if kicked by a horse. Nor could her right hand function. 'We'll shrivel from exposure!'

No one answered.

'Maybe with the dawn…' purred Jedit.

The crew huddled like puppies, packed so tightly one's shuddering shook the next. Jedit radiated heat like a sheet-iron stove compared to the fish-cold humans. The tiger seemed not to suffer in his coat of fur. Adira thanked her lucky stars and foresight for buying her crew the thick sweaters, for oily wool kept a body warm even when wet. Still, their predicament was dire.

'Maybe you should shove off, Jedit.' Spray slapped Adira's face, and she almost raged at the sea. 'You can swim like a squid. And those sharp ears must pick out breakers on the beach. You could fetch help!'

By appointment and nature, Adira took command and gave orders but knew they were useless. True, the tiger might reach the shore, but it was likely sheer cliff with no beach. He'd be bashed to death against stone. And the Goat's Walk was barren and unsettled. There'd be no rescue boats, ropes-or volunteers.

'The tide rises,' said Simone. 'We need Jedit's help just to cling to this rock. Every rogue wave threatens to sweep us off.'

'At least in drowning,' said Wilemina, 'one feels warm. Or so they say.'

'I can't believe my own Circle would give up the ghost!' groused Adira. Despite her throbbing head, she grew angry at the sea, the fates, and her wastrel crew. 'You blatherskites will just sit quietly and die?'

'Some are dead,' whispered Wilemina. 'This woman beside me grows cold. I poke her but can't rouse her.'

'If she's dead,' said the oft-callous Simone, 'shove her off. We need the room.'

'What of the others?' Adira cast about, but the world was thrashing darkness and spinning spume. She might have struck her skin alight, her favorite trick spell, but she was too addled and exhausted. And chilled. Early autumn in northern latitudes meant frosty nights. Adira was astonished they'd survived this long. Dawn would see their corpses sheathed in rime ice.

'Where's Virgil, and Murdoch, and Peregrine? And Heath? Surely he can't be gone!'

'Murdoch's nearby,' said Simone. 'We shouted until our voices gave out. Murdoch answered, but only he. Peregrine couldn't swim. Virgil sank. He was badly bashed by that tiller. It broke his ribs or guts. He claimed to be all right, but spit blood at every breath. He refused help when we jumped from the wreck.'

'I see.' Hot tears spilled down Adira's chapped cheeks, the only touch of warmth she'd ever felt in her life, it seemed. Cold gripped her like an iceberg.

'It's only hours till dawn,' panted Wilemina through chattering teeth. 'Maybe a fishing boat will see us.'

'It's two hours still till the tide turns,' countered Simone. 'We'll be knee-deep in water soon and too stiff to stand.'

'Where's the Conch?' asked Adira. 'If it fetched on rocks we could climb aboard.'

'Five fathoms deep,' said Simone. 'We only chucked loose a few hatches and lost those when we broached these rocks.'

'I wish Lady Caleria would open the skies and pour sunshine upon us,' whispered Sister Wilemina.

'Keep wishing,' sniped Simone.

Screaming wind whipped away words, so silence fell. The sailors knew soon would come the silence of the grave, for their body heat ebbed even as the water sloshed around their legs and buttocks. People tried to scoot closer to the center but lacked room.

Adira croaked, 'Jedit, shove off.'

The tiger didn't answer.

In stubborn silence, with teeth chattering, Adira said, 'Cub, you moor here only for our sake. You alone can survive this trap. Swim to shore and explore that cliff. Find a way up. Atop is forest. Build a fire or burrow in the mold. We can't, but you can. Go, swim. We need deck room. Go, damn your eyes!'

Rocking, stiff as a stone statue, Adira shoved with two hands and knocked Jedit off the rock. The tiger flopped with a great splash unheard above wind and surf. Exhausted and dizzy from her head wound, Adira crumpled again. People scooched together for warmth, none speaking.

Time passed. An eternity of cold. Simone, Wilemina, the tiny brownie Whistledove, Adira, and the bay sailors pondered death, and cold, and the unfairness of losing one's life on a windswept rock, their thoughts jumbled as the angry waves. No one spoke as water washed the rock.

From the wet darkness, a throaty purring call startled them. 'Adira Strongheart!'

Dully Adira opened her eyes to surging blackness. Frozen, barely able to move her jaw, she gargled, 'J-Jedit, I or-ordered you-'

'Leave, yes.' Water gurgled and slopped, and suddenly they all felt the great tiger surface like a leviathan alongside the rock. With only clawed paws clutching the rock, Jedit spewed water like a fountain. Something in his voice suggested humor, and instantly buoyed their hopes.

'You ordered I go, and I did. But I fetched friends.'

'F-Friends?' gibbered Adira. 'Who?'

A gasp echoed around the group as lights flickered below the black water. Paired orbs glowed soft green like undersea fireflies. As the doomed mariners watched, the lights rose all around, and for a second some thought of a sea monster with a hundred glowing eyes and a gaping mouth. Narrow heads with seaweed hair broke the surface, illuminated by green eyes shining like bullseye lanterns.

'Merfolk!' chirped Wilemina.

'Do not re-mem-ber us, do you?' A woman with a hatchet face sported rippling gills at her neck. Her voice piped and squeaked like a dolphin's. 'Not very friend-ly, we call that.'

It was a toss-up which notion stunned the humans more: that someone familiar rose from the sea, or that they teased as if meeting over beer. Reckoner, shaman of the Bom of the Beck tribe of the Lulurian Clan, had never been known to joke.

'Impossible!' stammered Adira. Scores of doubly glowing heads popped from the water smiling. To the merfolk, the autumn storm was as gentle as a summer breeze. 'You can't… How did… I don't…'