Free The Drowning Eyes by Emily Foster Page A

weird look and opened her mouth, but shut it again and turned her eyes back to the shore. The two of them stood there in silence as the Captain moored the
Giggling Goat
at what was left of a short dock near the northern rim of the harbor. The crew disembarked with stony faces and hushed voices—fitting for visitors of the dead.
    “There’s a fresh spring not far from here,” said the Captain, gesturing to the south. Without comment, the crew followed her into the worst of the destruction.
    The main street of town was strewn with debris. A dog was harassing some chickens in the fractured remains of a butcher’s shop. Overripe fruits had washed out of their seller’s stall and lodged themselves in all kinds of strange places. A woman with long locked hair lay half-buried in splintered wood, her filmy eyes barely cracked open in the sun.
    Shina stumbled, then sank to her knees. This was all too much—too much to even understand. The awful images swirled around her head, vivid before her eyes even after she had covered her face and begun weeping. There was no holding the tears back anymore. Her grief surged out of her chest in huge grey waves, salty and painful.
    “It should have been someone else,” she moaned into her damp palms. “Anyone else, anyone
better—
”
    “Hey, now,” the Captain said, at her side once again. “You did what you had to.”
    “But I did it
wrong,
” Shina said.
    Tazir put a hand beneath her arm and drew Shina to her feet. “Nah,” she said. “Whoever—whoever did the thing before the storm went in your stomach.
They
might have screwed up, but you—you’re innocent.” She took Shina by the hand and led her forward. “You didn’t have a choice in this.”
    Ahead of them, Kodin and Chaqal were looking through the rubble, lifting boards and logs and stones, calling for people who’d been trapped.
    “They must’ve been in a hurry,” Kodin called back, “but I think most of them got out.”
    From down the beach, a fresh wail of grief confirmed his guess. Shina shut her eyes and took a deep breath.
I’m the last Windspeaker,
she reminded herself.
I’m the best option we have.
    A man’s voice came from uphill, although they couldn’t see where. “Hey!” he was calling. “Hey! Hey, over here!”
    The Captain and Kodin looked around, blinking. The Captain chewed on her lip.
    “Hey!” the voice repeated. Another voice asked something in a dialect Shina didn’t understand.
    “There, coming toward the harbor mouth!” replied the first. “Ships!”
    The Captain looked back at Shina and raised her eyebrows. From where they were, what was left of the marketplace blocked the view of the harbor.
    “Come on,” Shina murmured to Tazir. “I need to get back to the ship.” She pulled her hand from the Captain’s grip and ran toward the ruin. Her stomach felt like she’d just swallowed a big gulp of air—or maybe a handful of Galinese death chiles. “I forgot my—”
    When they rounded the corner, they could see those red-striped sails, those painted dragons.
    “—compass.”
    For a few moments, Shina and Tazir watched the almost silent advance of the Dragon Ships. There were three this time. One of them—going by the fire kindling in Shina’s stomach, at least—had the icon on board.
    “I need to eat,” Shina said. She turned around and started searching the street for something that wasn’t too badly damaged. Wedged in a wrecked doorframe, she found a mango that was just beginning to rot. With shaking fingers, she peeled off the spoiled part and devoured it like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. Her stomach ached more and more with every bite—by the end, it was a chore to chew the oversweet pulp and get it down her throat.
    “Here,” Tazir said, tossing her some browning bananas she’d found beneath an overturned rowboat.
    “Go get Chaqal and Kodin,” Shina replied. She scanned the ruined city for a good place to sit. “Get to safety.”
    Tazir nodded. “And