“Come on, come on—” he muttered. The motor roared to life just as another gust of wind rocked the boat. Elias held the cub against his chest, wrapped tight in the blanket, while anchoring his legs on the slick floor of the skiff.
Snow flew in sideways sheets. Visibility was down to meters. But through the storm’s haze, a faint shape emerged—a shadow, a ghost. “The boat!” Elias shouted. “Dead ahead!” The Odin’s Mercy loomed through the whiteout, battered and groaning.