“Potentially the most dangerous,” Jon said, staring back at Sovereign. “According to what I’ve heard, at least.”
“‘What you’ve heard’?” Sovereign’s bleak amusement filled the cabin. “Do you find there’s typically a lot of truth in rumors?”
“A grain,” Jon replied. “Enough to concern me.”
“Let me put you at ease,” Sovereign said. “I’m not taking the girl without her permission. I’ve been seeking her out—”
“That much is plain,” Jon said.
Sovereign smiled. “I need to talk to her.”
Jon stared back at him. “So talk.” He looked back at Elizabeth. “She’s listening.”
Sovereign stood quietly for a moment as the little girl quivered wordlessly in her mother’s arms, and a look of discomfort came across his face. “Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but I’ve not been after you to hurt you in any way.” He laughed nervously, surprising Jon. A man this powerful gets nervous? “I mean, we haven’t even had a chance to meet face to face until now. I don’t know why you were so afraid of me—”
“Because I have a child, sir,” she said, staring at him, the little girl clutched across her chest, a blanket separating them, wrapping the little girl up wholly so that she looked like a waif. “And when a powerful man starts inquiring about you, trying to find you, track you down, if you’re in my position you don’t wait to find out his intention.” She looked away. “I know the intentions of most men—”
“I promise you, mine are different,” Sovereign said.
“Yeah, well, it hasn’t worked out so well with any of them,” she said bitterly.
“It would be different with me,” Sovereign said, “because I’m different.” He took a step forward and Jon held out a hand to stay him. “Put your hand down before you hurt someone,” Sovereign said.
Jon shook his head. “Just keep your distance until she asks you to get closer.”
Sovereign’s face reddened. “I’m not here to hurt her.”
“Fair enough,” Jon said calmly, “then you won’t mind keeping your distance, will you?”
Sovereign’s nostrils flared. “You’re a creature of the wind, are you not?”
Jon stared at him levelly. Looks like this is about to turn hostile. “I’m an Aeolus, yes.”
“Let’s call you what you are,” Sovereign said. “A Windkeeper. A creature of the wind.” His face darkened. “And all that’s left of you when I’m finished with you will be able to float away on the wind, so don’t tell me what to do. I don’t take kindly to being interfered with.”
Jon stared at him, felt the fury and fear rise in equal measure in his gullet. This isn’t going to get any prettier by waiting. He’ll kill me in an instant. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and hurled a burst of wind so hard that the man called Sovereign was flung bodily into the wall.
“Let’s go!” Jon shouted, grabbing for Elizabeth’s arm. He caught her by the wrist and she ran with him, unbattening the hatch and slamming it behind them, leaving Sovereign behind, shaking his head from where it had struck the bulkhead. A little bit of blood was visible on the man’s face in the flickering light of the Edmund Fitzgerald’s passenger cabin as Jon slammed the door and cranked the wheel to batten it shut.
Jon’s feet pounded as Elizabeth followed, the child in her arms. The little girl was crying, but the sound was barely audible as they crossed metal stairs toward the deck. Out into the storm. I can carry us in the storm, maybe lose him in the clouds ... with wind drifts like these, even the woman and child might not be too much for me to carry ... Just have to harness it, tame it.
They burst onto the deck as a wave crashed over the bow and the ship tilted. Jon felt his balance tested, but he caught himself on the side of the conning tower, holding Elizabeth steady along with him. The night was dark, the driving rain highlighted in the deck lamps, coming in nearly sideways and frigid cold as they steadied themselves between waves. “Hold tight to me!” he shouted as the world started to list again.
There was a grinding of metal once more, and something burst in the middle of the ship. The deck peeled back and Jon saw it split, the forecastle of the ship breaking off from the strength of the impact. He adjusted to grab for Elizabeth but failed, snagging the little girl’s blanket instead.
Elizabeth let out a cry as the deck pitched, a wave crashing over the side with such force that the whole thing shuddered, and Jon watched as the Edmund Fitzgerald was snapped in half, the damage done beneath the deck compounded and revealed by the strength of the waves. He grabbed hold of a recess in the conning tower, feeling every tendon in his shoulder yanked tight by the sudden drop of his entire body, the shift in gravity as the ship dipped, sinking into the waves.