The storm was worse than she had thought it would be, even though John, as he hurried them to their cabins, had assured her that it was milder than the one that had blown them so cruelly off course the year before. Madelyn inhaled sharply, dread coiling tight within her chest.
Great goodness—how long could it last?
The ship groaned, possibly replying that she had grown weary of the storm too. A mighty wave struck the hull with a thunderous slap, and Madelyn jumped, frightened. The timber rumbled wildly, then a splash and the entire vessel lurched so fiercely she cried out. She grabbed hold of the armrest, fighting to keep her fear at bay.
This was the life of seafarers?
Suddenly, it scared her. No one ever spoke of this—of how small one felt beneath such power. Of days spent battling mighty storms, or of the nights filled with fear of the ship giving over to the sea.
The same fear that now sat with her.
Suddenly—
"Get out of the way!" Someone cried.
