Frozen

They ran toward the end of the deck. Wes stopped. Shakes, Roark, and Brendon were on board good old Alby with Farouk. Wes stopped short, glancing from Shakes to their former comrade.

“It’s all right,” Shakes told Wes as he boarded. “Farouk was the one who helped us out of our cages.”

There was no time for questions. Wes nodded to the boy and then turned to help Nat aboard.

“Donnie—your family is here!” she said as soon as she saw the smallmen.

“Where?” Brendon asked. “They’re alive?”

“Yes, they were in the line with us—”

“Come on!” Shakes was yelling, helping Liannan on board.

Wes was at the helm; he started the engines and pushed the throttle to its limit.

“We can’t just leave them!” Nat yelled, and she meant all of them, not just the Rimmels. The slavers had begun to retake control. They were running up and down the deck, executing prisoners one by one.

Wes swung past the Van Gogh as they headed for open sea. The way was clear. They were safe. He glanced back at the slave ship. Avo had made it to the Van Gogh and had taken charge of the revolt. “WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?” he screamed at the prisoners.

“BACK IN YER CAGES! BACK IN YER CAGES!” a fat pirate bellowed as he fired into the air.

“Wes!” Nat called.

“I know, I know.”

Wes turned the wheel hard and Alby groaned as it swung around in a tight arc to face the slave ship. The Titan was awash in fire, and its crew had followed Avo to the Van Gogh, where they now seemed to have the upper hand. Most of the pilgrims were in the Titan’s lifeboats, paddling or motoring as best they could to escape. The Ear’s scavengers, lined up along the bow, were taking shots at the unprotected lifeboats as they tried to escape.

Wes had grown attached to Alby, but as he powered toward the slavers, he realized it might be the last weapon in his arsenal. Wes told his crew to hold on and then rammed the Van Gogh.

There was enough smoke in the air that he caught most of the scavengers off guard when the two vessels collided. Wes just needed to buy time for the escaping slaves to get out beyond the range of the slavers’ guns. The ocean was thick with ice and trash—it wouldn’t take long for the small boats to find cover.

When they collided, Alby’s bow made a temporary bridge between the two crafts. Wes leapt up onto the bow and boarded the slave ship, Nat and Shakes at his side, leaving the smallmen, Farouk, and Liannan behind. Half the scavengers were tossed overboard from the impact, and the rest were throwing ropes to their fallen comrades. Wes grabbed a pistol from the hand of a fallen slaver and pointed it at the men. Shakes and Nat followed.

“Time to go for a swim, boys. You can paddle over to that raft of junk and hope some pilgrims find you.”

Wes put a slug through the shoulder of the biggest scavenger, nicking a chunk of flesh from his arm. He’d survive, but the wound would smart for a few weeks. The slaver glared and began to climb down, followed by the last of his men. “You’ll be fine.” Wes smiled as he tossed the ropes overboard. His joking words hid his anger. He had to force himself not to fire on them again.

Brendon’s parents were among the smallkind who had commandeered one of the small motorboats. They pulled up next to Wes’s ship.

“Donnie! Donnie!” his mother cried.

“I’m all right, Mum, come on, I’m okay.” Brendon laughed.

“Take the lifeboat to the port of New Crete. My people will find you, and lead you home,” Liannan told them.

“Right then, hop on board, boys,” Cadmael said.

“We’re going with our crew,” Roark said.

“Don’t worry, Mum, we’ll be right behind, I’m their new navigator,” Brendon shouted. “I can’t leave my ship.”

“What!” his mother cried, but his father looked proud. “We’ll see you in Vallonis.” He nodded. “Magda, let’s go.”

Roark and Brendon helped the rest of the team scramble back onto Alby. Nat stumbled as she fell on board, Shakes revved the engine, and the boat began to pull away.

“Wait!” she cried. “Where’s Wes?” She turned to see Wes still on the deck of the Van Gogh. He’d stayed behind to make sure everyone got on board safely.

“Shakes! Turn back!” Nat yelled. “Wes is still back there!”

She saw Wes making a run to leap on board when someone grabbed him from behind and he fell back. Avo Hubik and a dozen other slavers surrounded him. Seeing Alby return, the pirates began firing on them, bullets whizzing through the air, pummeling the ship’s hull.

Brendon yelped as a bullet grazed his arm, and another plugged Shakes in the shoulder. Wes’s crew tried to return fire, but they were badly outnumbered.

“WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING? GO! GET OUT OF HERE!” Wes yelled, even as Avo held a gun to his temple.

The slaver laughed. “Surrender, or I will make him eat his own fingers when I send him to the flesh markets.”

Shakes hesitated and killed the engine, unsure what to do.

“GET LOST! TAKE THE SHIP AND GET OUT OF HERE! NOW!” Wes screamed in fury, as the bullets continued to fly, one dangerously close to hitting Nat in the head. There was little cover on deck from the shower of gunfire.

“We can’t save him,” Farouk said. If they stayed any longer, the slavers would overtake them, and they would be back where they began, but in worse circumstances. The slavers didn’t take too kindly to slaves who tried to escape.

“No,” Shakes said. “No! We’re not leaving him.”

“But we’ll all get captured.”

“SURRENDER!” Avo screamed.

“GO ON! MOVE, YOU IDIOTS!” Wes yelled again.

That did it. Shakes tugged at the wheel and gunned the engine.

Nat remained on deck, her eyes fixed on Wes, surrounded by slavers.

“Bring the acid. Get him ready for the knives,” Avo ordered.

Wes shook his head at her. “Remember our deal,” he mouthed.

She knew what was in store for him. The flesh markets. The flaying. He would die slowly and horribly, as they skinned him alive, as they stripped the skin from his body; they would force him to experience every second of his own terrible death.

Nat felt tears spring to her eyes. No. No.

The slavers were upon him now. Three of them held him back as he stood on the deck, while another brought the bucket of acid to blind him, the beginning of the torture.

Alby was pulling away as the slavers kept firing on the ship. Nat had only a moment to act, a moment to decide.

Wes kept his eyes on her the whole time. “What did I say, Nat, I told you it wouldn’t come to this.” He smiled. There are worse things than getting shot, worse things in the world than dying quickly.

She knew what he was asking her to do.

But he was right. She wouldn’t let it come to this. There was a way she could save him and save them all.

Nat grabbed a sidearm from one of the boys. She remembered what Liannan had said the other night. She could feel the otherworldly strength rushing through her spirit as she locked eyes with Wes.

Her eyes filled with tears of hope.

“Do it,” he mouthed. “Hurry.”