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Snowborn
Chapter 40 ~ Devil’s Breath

Chapter 40 ~ Devil’s Breath

Voices reverberated over the still water. Wisps of conversation and dark shapes danced like mirages through the thick fog. Suddenly, a whizzing sound filled the air, and something crashed into the water nearby. A wave jumped from the ocean and drenched him. He screamed in agony as the salt sank into the fresh cuts on his back and wrists. Tears filled his eyes, and excited voices filled the air. It seemed like gleeful spirits were dancing around the ship and watching him suffer.

What in Incari was that? he wondered, terrified.

Terrin trembled, listening closely to see if he could try to figure out who was there. For a few seconds, there was silence. The whizzing sound filled the air once more, and an explosion blossomed from the aft deck. A tiny inferno blazed where the boat was hit, curtained by the fog and smoke. Screams filled the air, and barrels flew in all directions.

“We’re unda attack!” someone yelled from below deck, and sailors poured out from the hatch, their mouths covered with rags. One of the men fixed his gaze on Terrin and froze as he carefully removed his cloth and took in a tentative breath.

“The mist was ah trap!” he exclaimed as he rushed to spread the word to his comrades.

The ship tilted as another explosion rocked it. Terrin flew toward the bow, but his handcuff jerked him out of the air and slammed him down on the deck. Something popped in his wrist or thumb; he wasn’t sure which. He wailed in agony and felt more blood flow down his arm, bathing the deck in crimson. His back felt like someone had forced him to lie on a bed of nails. He looked through the smoke, tears, and spots in his eyes to see his thumb at an unnatural angle, obviously broken.

I can pull my hand out now.

He forced himself to focus and not black out again. A column of water shot up from the sea and soaked the port side of the deck. Terrin clenched his teeth and slid his hand out. He inhaled sharply as pain laced his nerves. Another missile hit the ship, and he lurched forward, whacking his already battered head.

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He moaned, trying not to give into the physical ailments afflicting his body. Another hit burst the mast into flames. Fire rained down from the sky. Smoke, flames, fog, and screams filled the air. For a second, Terrin thought he found his way into hell. Men were running around with buckets. A bulky man ran past Terrin to douse a flame shooting from the cargo hold. The dreaded whizzing noise filled the air again, and a man shrieked as the missile exploded where he was standing. Terrin stared in terror at the charred hole where the slave trader had been.

I must get out of here.

His head spun, and every sound seemed muffled from the auditory effects of the detonations. Suddenly, the deck below him exploded. His mouth opened in a silent scream as he careened through the air, heading straight for an icy grave. Terrin plummeted down, fire and death raining from above. Fragments of charred wood and cargo splashed into the ocean below. It occurred to him seconds before impact to angle his legs toward the water and hold his breath.

He plummeted into liquid ice. The shock made him gasp, and he took in a mouthful of frigid saltwater. He felt like he fell into the mouth of a monster hell-bent on sucking him into the dark abyss below. He desperately clawed his way to the surface. His back burned, and his dislocated thumb screamed from the movement. His head broke through the waves, and he desperately gasped for air.

Ghostly shapes moved in the fog, and screams echoed over the water. Flames spewed from debris, and a cannon ball crashed into the water nearby. The resulting wave sent Terrin back under. He felt like he was in a trance. His mind wandered in slow motion, and his body didn’t seem to belong to him anymore. He was just a casual observer.

Abruptly, a splash sounded from above, and a body crashed into the water above him. He could not make out the other person’s features. Everything was too dark. All he could see was a faint outline through the burning in his eyes.

Are they dead?

Whoever it was must have noticed him, because they reached down to grab him. At that moment, Terrin realized he was slowly freezing to death. He was too cold to struggle or kick. The air inside of his lungs wanted to burst.

Terrin faced the reality of the situation: he was sinking. The figure shook their hand violently, trying to get him to grab hold. He reached up slowly. His vision was darkening. Bubbles escaped from his lips, and the person faded from view.