I grip the railing at the bow of the boat, trying to ignore the stinging pain in my upper arm. Behind me, Mistress Krier's invective-filled speech is cut short as a teenage dockhand stuffs a handkerchief in her mouth and manhandles her into a chair for attacking me. I sigh; it's bad enough that we're sailing in the middle of a storm to find her son, I don't need to listen to her screaming, too.

The boat rolls as the waves crash up against the hull and my feet skid sideways on the slick floor. Rain splatters into my eyes; I dash a sopping wet sleeve across my face and stare out onto the angry sea. When the Kriers came banging on our hut's door this afternoon, begging for help, I hesitated. Not because I didn't want to search for the boy, but because I didn't believe I could do it. My talents, I told them, were connected to the sea—not people. I could sense fish and dolphins and whales, but not little boys.

"Please," Mistress Krier sobbed as Master Krier jangled a pouch full of silver in my face.

Yes, it makes me a morally-poor person, but the sight of that silver did prove motivating.

In a village such as ours, it's not unheard of for boys to test their mettle against the sea on a dare. Even during storms. Typically, the boy is instructed to sail out in a questionable dinghy or row boat around the Wall, to the end of the processing docks, and back.

Sometimes, during storms such as this one, they drown.

According to his friends, young Master Krier made it as far as the processing docks and disappeared near the piers. No one says it out loud, but the outcome is grim: there are massive pipes under there that dump waste from the processing plant into the sea. Anyone tossed overboard is surely doomed to drown as the waves crash up against the pipes.

Other vessels besides the one we're on trudge ahead, the wind ripping at their sails. It's risky business having so many boats out during a storm. If one is blown off-course, it can plow into another vessel and we'll all sink.

I'd rather not die this afternoon.

No, I'd rather be home, safe and warm, working on my charms and potions. Or ensconced back at the bookstore with Klaus, the air heavy with the scent of new and aged paper. We talked long after the meal and wine had been finished, about magic and books and philosophy, my walls falling down one by one as the day stretched into evening. But he still managed to have me home before dark, as he had promised my father.

Yes, I would like to be anywhere but here.

Seawater splashes my face like a cold, hard slap, bringing me back to the present. Spitting salty saliva over the bow, I shake my head and drag heavy wet locks away from my eyes. My senses stretch across the water, but all I can feel are the fish trembling far below the surface, waiting for the storm to pass.

"Bippi," I whisper, unsure if the octopus can even hear me, "what do I do?"

I haven't seen Bippi much since my initiation. Perhaps, I wonder as I grip the slick railing, he has returned to the Grey God, leaving me to my own devices. Maybe his abandonment of me is my own fault—I have been too confident as of late.

We're nearing the end of the processing plant's docks now. Fishermen, lashed to the railing, lean over the side of the boat, peering into the grey, angry waves. I hear them shouting between themselves that the boy is lost. Behind me, Mistress Krier wails around her gag and struggles against the ropes binding her to the chair.

"Think, Sina."

I jolt and nearly lose my grip as a small black tentacle curls around the rail, followed by the rest of Bippi. The octopus rolls over the bow and plops onto the deck, big blue eyes staring up at me unblinkingly.

"I have given you all the tools you need," Bippi continues placidly as the boat rolls to the right.

"Bippi!" I exclaim in surprise, causing several fishermen to turn around at the sound of my voice.

"Sea monster!" one of them shouts, yanking the rope from around his waist. He grabs a gaff from the side of the vessel and runs at Bippi, taking a swing at the octopus.

"No!" I scream, reaching out to grab the man by the arm. Our feet slide on the slick deck and we struggle with the gaff.

"Get off of me, sea witch," the fisherman spits, thrusting the gaff out and shoving me against the railing. Pain shoots across my lower back and I feel my feet slipping out from under me. My head tilts back and all I can see is violent grey water and eminent death should I fall. NO. My magic stretches and snaps through an unseen barrier. The rain sings, the wind howls, and the sea beats like a mighty heart. Power surges through my veins and I shove myself forward with a snarl as the fisherman takes another swing, but Bippi is gone.

"What?" he calls out, confused as the iron hook passes through empty air. The cry is cut short as I reach out and grip him by his wet canvas shirt.

"Don't you ever do that again," I hiss between clenched teeth, shaking him like an errant child. The gaff drops from the fisherman's hand to clatter on the deck. "He didn't do anything to you," I continue to berate the man as he stares at me in fear. "He was harmless and you tried to kill him."

"S-sea witch," the man stammers and twists himself out of my grip, running back to the others at the rail.

I glower as the fishermen watch me in silent terror until the captain leans out from the wheelhouse and shouts at them to get back to work. As I swing around, I see Mistress Krier's eyes go wide and her skin pales.

I know how to make charms of protection, potions to heal. The denizens of the sea cannot hide from me. I can find a boy in a storm.

Mistress Krier jumps in her chair, the legs banging against the floorboards. I march over to the woman and yank a cluster of hair from her sodden head.

Magic crackles in my hand as I walk over to the railing, Mistress Krier's muffled sobs fading behind me. The deck has gone quiet, save for the howling of the wind and the drumming of the rain. "Find him," I command, throwing the hair overboard.

Gripping the rail, I look down. The cluster of brown locks hits the turbulent waters and sinks below the white-capped surface. I wait, eyes narrowing.

As a massive thunderclap echoes overhead, the waves suddenly begin to glow phosphorescent green. Like a snake, a trail shoots outward, rocketing towards the rocky cliff at the far end of the processing plant.

"There!" I shout over the storm, pointing to the rocks.

The captain rushes out of the wheelhouse and looks down on the glittering trail. "I'll be," he mutters, staring at me in awe, rain streaming down his thick, ruddy beard. Shaking his head, he turns and shouts at his crew, "What are you standing around for? Get to your stations!"

"She's leading us to our deaths!" one of the men shouts, jabbing a finger at the rocks.

Waves crash up against the sharp, jagged edges of the cliff, spraying foam into the air. As anyone in our village knows, it's suicide to attempt to sail close to the cliff; the ocean will simply pull a vessel into the rocks and smash it to pieces. Even now, through the driving rain, I can see broken bits of wood crashing up against the base of the cliff. But that is where the trail leads; that is where it ends.

"You do your job and I'll do mine!" the captain shouts, slapping the other man on the back of the head. The man cowers but runs for his station. The captain turns back to me and looks me dead in the eye. "I don't want to die today, sea witch," he grumbles before running back to the wheelhouse.

Suddenly, the deck is alive with activity, men hauling on thick, wet ropes, turning the sails toward the edge of the processing plant. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the other ships follow our lead.

I don't want anyone to die, either. I look out over the bow, at the phosphorescent trail and take a deep breath. Klaus once asked me if I could summon storms and I told him "no". Well, now we'll have to find out if I can banish them.

Releasing my grip on the rail, I stretch out my arms and lift them over my head. My fingers grasp the rain, the wind curling against my palms. "Be calm," I command.

The boat creaks beneath my feet as we turn towards the cliff. I close my eyes and dig down deep, touching a part of my soul that I've never explored. Sweat breaks out upon my brow and along my back, salt mixing with sea brine and rain. "Be calm!"

Power tingles down my arms and along my palms, dancing between my fingertips. A heaviness falls around me, causing my knees to buckle and my feet to slide. Electricity crackles in the air as the wind picks up. All around, I can hear the shouts of the fishermen as we glide closer and closer to the cliffs.

Gritting my teeth, I lift my head to the sky and scream, "BE CALM!"

It stops.

Everything stops.

The rain that lashed the sails and skirted the deck comes to a halt. The wind ceases its howling and the sea is no longer turbulent.

"By the Grey God!" more than one fisherman exclaims.

Slowly, I open my eyes and see that the village ships bob in placid waters. I cannot believe what I'm seeing: a perfect circle, a hundred meters in circumference, surrounds us. Outside the circle, the storm rages, but inside the dome, it may have well been a normal summer day. Even the waves that crash upon the cliffs gently lap at its lichen-covered base. Bits of broken wooden hull bob towards us.

I did it, I sigh loudly in relief. I've commanded the sea and wind. My arms sag with fatigue, but I'm forced to keep them aloft as the circle we sit in wavers.

"There!" a fisherman shouts, pointing up towards the cliffs.

Slowly, I turn my head as the captain begins to order a rowboat into the water. Next to us, three other vessels drop their own small boats.

Up on the cliff, wedged into a small alcove above the crashing of the waves, is a small figure pressed up against the rock. The trail of phosphorescence pools beneath his safe spot.

"Hurry," I pant as my temple begins to pulse with strain. I don't know how much longer I can keep the storm at bay.

Distantly, I'm aware that someone has untied Mistress Krier and she rushes to the side of the boat, screaming her son's name.

Be calm, I groan to myself as a fisherman reaches the cliff and calls up to the boy. Be calm.

My vision begins to blur and I start to sink towards the deck. Droplets of rain begin to penetrate the shield I've created and the boat starts to rock as the sea regains control.

"Oh," I sigh and collapse, darkness washing over me.