The vibration spread through the timber. He could feel how it seeped in from the water and into the cabin, the deep tremor shaking his jaw and making his teeth chatter.
Like an invisible giant hand slowly stroking across the hull, it slid along the ship's ribs, climbed onto the deck, and gave a muffled thud as it passed the base of the mainmast.
Then it continued onward, passing through the raised stern cabin, reaching the rudderpost, traveling along the wheel's spokes, and settling into the palms gripping the helm.
Oliver felt himself lifted for an instant, then sink ever so slightly.
There was no doubt about it—the bottom of the ship had struck something, and it was no lightweight. Enough to shake a vessel laden with cargo; even such a slight jolt meant that thing possessed an unimaginable weight.
If it had been pack ice, the part above the surface could not have gone unnoticed. And the odds of any other floating object appearing here were vanishingly small.
As for the possibility that it was not an inanimate thing, he did not dare think about it. Nor could he imagine it.
Of course, even knowing the answer would do nothing to improve their situation.
All a person could do was make slight adjustments to the wheel in the direction of the waves, submit to this stretch of sea, and let it carry the ship into the unknown.
Unexpectedly, that realization made him feel a little better. At least he no longer had to worry about making the wrong decision. It was like racing down a straight road with no forks—though the destination might be hell itself, one could still set the course with a clear conscience and enjoy these final moments of peace.
Another vibration came. Standing at the