For fans of Fable by Adrienne Young or To Kill a Kingdom by Alexandra Christo, this romantasy debut is filled with sirens and mysterious magic, swoony romance and cutthroat betrayal.
Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Rachel Greenlaw’s Compass and Blade, which releases on February 27th 2024.
This world of sea and storm runs deep with bargains and blood.
On the remote isle of Rosevear, Mira, like her mother before her, is a wrecker, one of the seven on the rope who swim out to shipwrecks to plunder them. Mira’s job is to rescue survivors, if there are any. After all, she never feels the cold of the frigid ocean waters and the waves seem to sing to her soul. But the people of Rosevear never admit the truth: that they set the beacons themselves to lure ships into the rocks.
When the Council watch lays a trap to put an end to the wrecking, they arrest Mira’s father. Desperate to save him from the noose, Mira strikes a deal with an enigmatic wreck survivor guarding layers of secrets behind his captivating eyes, and sets off to find something her mother has left her, a family secret buried deep in the sea.
With just nine days to find what she needs to rescue her father, all Mira knows for certain is this: The sea gives. The sea takes. And it’s up to her to do what she must to save the ones she loves.
The thunder sends me running. As lightning cleaves the sky, casting a flash across the sand, I see the ship. An outline. A struggling beast in the water. Its carcass is spilling cargo, wood splintered and swollen. I gasp, pulling in a breath as I stumble over the rocks. The wind whips the rain against my skin, a sharp spray of cold dashing across my cheekbones.
“Am I too late?” I ask as I reach the group on the beach. A hand reaches for mine, callused fingers gripping my own. “You’re cold, Mira,” my father says, blue eyes hidden under the folds of his hood. “Take my gloves when you go in.”
I nod, avoiding the fact that we both know I don’t need them. That as soon as I hit the water, I will no longer feel the cold. Moving toward the line, I find my place along the length of slick rope. Six others are with me. Six other islanders who have the song of the sea in their blood, and can last in the ocean and not succumb to her ways so easily. But none of them can last as long as I can. None of them can find warmth beneath the waves.
I touch the rope, the rasp of the twine biting into my palms. Waking me. Igniting the fire in my blood. I look out at the ship, imagine the dying gasps of the sailors. My heart lurches, prickles of heat shivering through my veins. I was born for this, the tide and the foam and the cold. I am ready.
I will save as many as I can. We all will.
But we will never tell them the truth. That we light the fires along the cliffs. That we are the beacon their helmsman followed. That we wrecked their ship on our rocks to plunder all they have, to take any cargo we can eat or trade.
This is how we survive.
Agnes is just ahead of me, her fist gripped around the rope like a promise. It’s her job to cut the cargo from the ship so it floats toward the crew on the shore. I look behind me, catching Kai’s wink. He’ll be with me, saving as many as we can. The roar of the sea echoes in my chest and I beat my feet against the sand, in step with the others. We work as one and I match my rhythm to theirs. We haven’t lost any of us, any of the seven who swim out to the wrecks, this season. Or last.
“On three! All together!”
The answering call goes up all around as we shout back his words. All together. My father appears beside me as we walk, tugging his gloves over my hands, gripping my shoulder.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, turning back to the tide. He says nothing, but I feel his love, the ghost of it lingering as he disappears into the night. It wraps around me, a little too stifling. The first lash of sea batters against my thighs, reaching for my chest. I take a deep breath, keeping the rope tangled in my fist, then in a rush of fire and ice, I dive under. Agnes surfaces first, just ahead of me. Her red hair flashes, floating like a beacon. I keep her in sight as I work through the waves, feeling out their song. Feeling for their pull and beat. The sea is a fickle creature and on a night like this, she can be wicked and cruel.
I fall into a rhythm, keeping the rope tucked in on my right, feeling the knot of the spliced twine, which is tied around my waist and attached to the main rope, digging into my middle. Wood floats past, cargo released from the hold. Perhaps they were already sinking before we lured them in. The rocks are like teeth, hidden in the gums of the ocean. And surrounding our islands there are rows and rows of them, far more than we can chart on our maps.
I dive once more, catching my rib against something heavy. A thumping ache dulled by the water flares across my side. I bite my lip, stilling the hiss behind my teeth as my body instinctively curls inward, losing the rhythm of the others. I stretch out, hauling my arm overhead to cut through the water, bubbles escaping my lungs as the dull ache sharpens to a point. I surface, panting, my legs tangling with the rope. Letting the others carry me for half a breath. I consider hanging on to the rope in my hands, allowing myself to be pulled to the wreck—there’s no way of binding my side until we reach the shore again—but I can’t throw the others off. We’re a team, I have to pull my weight. I carry on, sipping the air before diving down to push more flotsam away. My side grates angrily, pain roaring up my arm. I hope my ribs aren’t broken. That I’ll still be able to haul in any survivors.
“Mira!” calls Bryn from near the front. “Mira and Kai, you’re with me!”
I look up, finding the ship looming above me. She’s keeled right over, a gaping hole in the starboard side, the ocean roaring as the waves claw at her. Wood and crates float past us and I scan them for bodies. For eyes and limbs and hearts, anyone that I can save. But there’s no one gripping the crates, clinging to their floating backs.
I hope we aren’t too late.
