Chapter 6

“No!” Mateo roared, pulling at the chains so hard the thick iron links ground against the pipe. Blood trickled down his wrists. “Take me! Kill me! Let them go!”

Silas ignored him. He walked over to a heavy rusted wheel on the wall and began turning it.

The sound of rushing water echoed through the hull. I looked down in horror as freezing seawater began pouring through a grate in the floor.

“The ship is rigged to sink in ten minutes,” Silas said calmly, adjusting his coat. “The books are destroyed. Gabriel is dead in the warehouse. And you three will disappear into the harbor. A tragic family reunion.”

He turned and walked toward the heavy metal door.

“Silas!” Mateo screamed, his voice cracking with desperation.

The heavy door slammed shut. The deadbolt locked from the outside.

We were trapped.

The freezing water was already ankle-deep. Ethan clung to my leg, shivering violently.

I waded through the rising water to Mateo. I fell to my knees, throwing my arms around his neck. He buried his face in my shoulder, sobbing—the first time I had ever heard my husband cry.

“I’m so sorry, Maya,” he choked out. “I tried to come back. I tried to keep you safe.”

“You’re here,” I cried, kissing his bruised face. “That’s all that matters.”

The water was rising fast. It was up to our knees.

I grabbed the heavy chains binding his wrists, pulling desperately, but it was useless.

“Look in my left pocket,” Mateo said urgently. “There’s a lockpick.”

I plunged my hand into his soaked jacket pocket. My fingers brushed against something hard. But it wasn’t a lockpick.

It was a small, heavy piece of brass.

I pulled it out.

It was another compass. An exact replica of Ethan’s.

“No,” Mateo breathed, his eyes wide. “Silas must have taken the pick when he searched me.”

The water reached our waists. Ethan was crying, struggling to keep his head up. I lifted him onto a metal shipping crate, but it wouldn’t buy us much time.

Mateo looked at Ethan. “Buddy. Do you still have yours?”

Ethan nodded, reaching into his soaked pocket and pulling out his compass.

“Open it,” Mateo commanded.

Ethan flipped the brass lid.

“Look at the dial, Ethan. Remember what I taught you?”

Ethan sniffled, looking at the needle. “The red arrow points north.”

“Under the arrow,” Mateo said frantically. “Pry the glass off. Use your thumbnail.”

Ethan dug his little fingers under the glass face of the compass. With a sharp pop, the glass popped off.

“Under the needle,” Mateo said. “There’s a small piece of metal.”

Ethan pulled out a tiny, curved wire hidden perfectly beneath the compass dial.

Mateo looked at me, a wild, desperate hope in his eyes.

“It’s a tension wrench and a pick,” Mateo said. “I had them custom-made. I knew if I ever gave him that compass, he might need it.”

I snatched the wire from Ethan’s hand and forced it into the padlock holding Mateo’s chains. My hands shook violently. The water was up to Mateo’s chest.

“Steady, Maya,” Mateo whispered. “Turn it left.”

I twisted.

Click.

The heavy padlock popped open.

Mateo ripped the chains off his wrists. He grabbed me and pulled me into a fierce kiss, then lifted Ethan off the crate.

We waded toward the heavy metal door, but the water pressure was too strong. We couldn’t pull it open.

Suddenly, a massive explosion rocked the ship.

The hull groaned violently. The metal door above us groaned, buckling inward.

Someone was kicking it from the outside.

With a deafening screech, the door ripped open.

Standing on the catwalk above, bleeding from a gunshot wound to his shoulder, was Gabriel.

He reached his good arm down into the rising water.

“I told you,” Gabriel panted, his eyes locking with Mateo’s. “Nobody takes my brother from me twice.”