“They aren’t after money,” Trix said. She hurried back across the castle deck and started barking orders at the confused crowd. “You there! Yeah, you. Grab that line and wench it tight. I need two of you to haul down on the main hawser lines. The rest of you start shedding ballast. We need to get rid of as much weight as possible.”
Allison caught her elbow. “What are they after?”
“Slaves,” Trix answered.
A nervous smile danced across Allison’s face. “That’s ridiculous. This is just a game…”
“A game you can’t log out of unless you are at a port of call on an outbound ship.”
Fear dropped into Allison’s belly like a hot brick. Her knees felt rubbery. The first notes of panic started to jingle in her brain like tiny bells. She said, “You mean to tell me we’re stuck in this game?”
Trix turned and fixed her with a hard stare. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. If those pirates catch up to us, they’re going to put us in chains and set us to work in the mines, or sell us for whores. Now help me lighten the load.”
She leapt down to the poop deck and hurried around the ship, using one of her daggers to cut away sandbags roped to the gunwales for ballast. Allison did the same on the other side, fumbling at the knots with trembling fingers. With the hawser lines taut and the extra weight dropped into the ocean, the lumbering vessel picked up speed, but not enough. The smaller corvette was closing the distance fast. Allison could hear the constant beat of the drum clearly over the wind and rushing waves. She turned to Trix. “Now what?”
The knight had come down from the castle deck. “We need to signal the mainland. Maybe a few of those merchant ships will come to our aid.”
“They’ll never reach us in time,” Trix said. Her face was tight with fear and one hand gripped the hilt of her curved sword.
“Has anyone got a mirror?” the knight shouted.
“Yeah,” came the reply. Another seasoned player in breeches and a leather baldric rummaged through a crude pack and came out with a small disc of polished glass which he handed over. The knight snatched it and hurried to the prow, where he used the sun’s reflection, aiming the little mirror at the port of Tanthus.
“This is never going to work,” Trix said.
“Have hope,” the knight told her. He used his hand, covering and revealing the mirror in beats, long and slow.
“Do you even know what you’re doing?” one of the new players asked.
“Sending SOS,” the knight told him. He sent three short flashes, followed by three long, then three short. They waited for a reply from shore and when none came, he started the series over again.
The whole time, the pirate ship was closing the distance.
Trix shook her head. “This isn’t working.”
“What choice do we have?” someone asked.
“We can fight,” someone else suggested. He was a large man with thick forearms and bulging shoulders.
A woman, not much older than Allison and about the same size with curly red hair, frowned at him. “Sure, you can fight. What about the rest of us?”
Trix shook her head. “They’ll be armed with sabers and clubs. You won’t last thirty seconds.”
Panic started to set in. The crowd debated hotly what should be done. The large man with the thick forearms insisted they fight for their freedom. Others suggested trying to barter for their lives. Allison caught hold of Trix and asked, “Isn’t there some kind of moderator to keep law and order?”
“It’s called the Savage Realms.” She drew one of her short knives. “Any woman who doesn’t want to end up a sex slave had better get out of the game right now. It’ll be quick.”
The redhead stepped forward with her fists clenched and tears streaking down her freckled cheeks. She trembled like a leaf in a gale force wind. “Will it hurt?”
“It’ll sting for a few minutes,” Trix told her. “Then it will all be over, and you’ll wake up back at the server site.”
Allison grabbed her wrist. “You can’t.”
Trix shook her off. “You know what’s going to happen when they catch us? They are going to beat the men in to submission and then every pirate on that ship is going to take turns raping these women. Better a cut throat.”
The redhead stepped in front of Trix, turned around, and got down on her knees. “Make it fast, okay?”
A chubby woman with pink splotches on her cheeks let out a sob.
Trix cupped the redhead’s chin in one hand, tilted her head toward the sky, and poised the dagger at her exposed throat. Allison watched in horror, her heart beating wildly at the wall of her chest. She wanted to stop it, but the pirates were almost on them. The drum was beating furiously now, filling her ears with a maddening rhythm that set her teeth on edge. Tears welled up in her eyes and doubled her vision. Trix took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and Allison saw the muscles in her forearm flex.
Chapter Twenty-One
Allison held her breath, waiting for Trix to slice open the redhead’s windpipe. Imagining the spray of arterial blood that would splash across the polished deck in gouts of bright red. It was an ugly end to the woman’s first foray into the Savage Realms. Then it would be Allison’s turn. The pirate ship was less than fifty meters back and gaining. The beating drum grew louder with each passing second. Allison could hear the coarse shouts of the buccaneers above the rushing waves. She didn’t want to be a slave, and the promise of rape was enough to end the debate. Better a cut throat and wake up back at the server site. Something told her having her throat slit open would finish her resolve, ending any notion of finding the money, and put her back on the path of looking for a job, but that was better than being a sex slave.
“Wait!” shouted the knight at the prow. “They responded!”
Trix checked the movement. A small scarlet thread showed against the pale skin of the redhead’s throat. Her eyes fluttered open and one hand went to her neck. Trix hurried across the deck. Allison followed. Two merchant vessels cut through the waves, their sails full of wind and foamy spray bursting over sharp prows. From the bow of the lead ship came a sharp lance of bright light that flicked off and on.
“What do they say?” Allison wanted to know.
The knight held up a hand for her to wait. His brow pinched as he worked out the Morse code. He said, “Only that they are coming as fast as they can.”
Trix bared her teeth. “The tide is against them and those pirates are gaining. They’ll never make it in time.”
“Maybe we can hold them off until help arrives,” the stout newbie suggested.
“With what?” The knight wanted to know.
The newbie pointed to Trix. “She’s got a dozen knives.”
“At least give us a chance to defend ourselves,” someone else said. The others urged Trix to surrender her wealth of weapons with shouts and angry curses. It took a lot of pleading, but Trix finally consented with a grunt and started passing out throwing knives. She gave Allison a short dagger and kept the two curved sabers for herself. The knight had a woodsman’s axe which he handed to the stout fellow with thick forearms and the other seasoned player produced a small smithing hammer. He gave it to one of the newbies and said, “I’m going to want it back.”
“Stay on those ropes,” Trix yelled to the men on the hawser lines. “Keep them taut. We need to keep up our speed. Make it harder for them to board.”
The knight ordered the rest into a rough skirmish line along the port side gunwale. “They’ll use grappling hooks,” he said. “You have to cut those lines as soon as they hook onto the railing. Don’t let them pull us in close or we’re finished. Put your shoulders together and fight two against one.”
Allison found herself paired up with the redhead, who stood shaking like a dog with worms. She had a dagger clutched in one hand. The freckles stood out on her pale face. She muttered to herself, but Allison couldn’t catch the words over all the commotion. Allison took a few experimental jabs with her dagge
r. The sharp point shook in her grasp. She felt every bit as scared as the redhead looked. Her fingers felt like numb bits of flesh wrapped around the dagger hilt. An hour ago she was in the real world, in a modern city, in search of a seat in a game. Now she was in a battle with pirates on the high seas. “This is crazy,” she told herself.
Trix raced back to the castle deck and spun the wheel. The large vessel leaned hard to port. The deck pitched under Allison’s sandaled feet. Her stomach lurched. She gripped the gunwale for support. Trix was trying to stay in front of the pirate ship and prevent them from boarding altogether. It was a losing battle. The pirate ship was lighter and faster, but it was buying time for the rescuers. The pirate captain veered hard to starboard, and Trix spun the wheel back the other direction. The deck lurched the other way. Sails boomed like thunder and a cold spray crashed over the railing. Allison got soaked. She spit out a mouthful of salt water, and her woolen gown clung to her frame.
One of the newbies lost his footing, went sliding across the deck, and managed to latch onto the center mast, but the knife Trix had lent him went overboard.
Allison looped her arm around the railing and hung on for dear life while Trix swung the wheel back and forth, blocking the pirate ship. The vessels topped waves and dipped back down into troughs, kicking up white spray. The chase ended when the pirates resorted to ramming. Trix saw it coming and yelled, “Hold on!”
The masthead of the pirate ship crashed into the stern of the transport vessel with a shriek of splintering timbers. Allison lost her footing and went down hard on the deck, but she managed to hang onto the gunwale with white knuckles. She still had the dagger in her right hand and thought about letting go in order to grab the rail with both hands, but didn’t dare. She might need it very soon. Instead, she hugged the polished wood with her left and clung to the knife with her right as the ship swayed drunkenly and then settled.
The ships groaned together, the starboard side of the pirate vessel scraping along the port side of the transport in a long grinding noise that set Allison’s teeth on edge. More water washed over the deck. The movement caused both vessels to cant down, and gravity slammed Allison into the railing. For a moment she was staring at the deck of the pirate ship and saw bloodthirsty savages armed with short swords. Then the ships started back the other way. The redhead went over the gunwale with a shriek. She groped blindly for purchase.
Allison let go of the rail, reached out, and managed to latch onto the redhead’s wrist. Her arm was thrust between the slats, her head and shoulder pinned against the railing. The weight of the redhead wedged her body in place, but her hand was slipping. The redhead’s wrist was slick with salt water and sweat. Allison clamped down, but it was no use. The woman was slipping through her grasp. The redhead shrieked, “I don’t want to die!”
And then she was falling. Allison felt the arm slip right through her exhausted fingers. The redhead screamed and went under the prow of the pirate ship. Allison pulled her arm back just in time to avoid having it sheared off by the other vessel.
Buccaneers were already leaping onto the transport, swords in hand. The stout newbie, so eager to fight, was surrounded by pirates and cut down. He died screaming in blood-splattered agony. He didn’t even manage to land a blow before he was stabbed through the middle.
Allison let go of the railing and backed away across the slippery deck, fighting to keep her footing. She watched in stunned horror as a pirate beat a woman unconscious with the pommel of his weapon and then ripped her woolen gown open in one quick motion. Allison’s heart trembled in her chest. She wanted to run, but where would she go? Pirates swarmed the deck. The armored knight and the blacksmith had their backs together. They were surrounded, and Allison could see how it would end. The knight hacked down two of the rogues before having his neck cut open. The smithy clobbered a third pirate, but he had a sword thrust through his chest and died spitting blood. The bandits wasted no time hauling beaten and injured newbies onto their ship.
“To hell with it,” Trix said. She leapt down from the castle deck, ducked a vicious swipe from a sword, sprinted to the railing, and dove over the side in one smooth motion. Allison hesitated only a fraction of a second before throwing herself over the gunwale as well.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cold water crashed over Allison with an icy grip that drove the air from her lungs. Her woolen dress bunched up under her armpits and a rushing sound filled her ears. The shock of the cold was lost in the rush of adrenaline. The world below the surface was dark and, for a moment, Allison lost sight of which way was up. She twisted wildly, bubbles streaming from her open mouth showing her the way. Sunlight reflected on shimmering water overhead and Allison kicked for the surface. Her lungs screamed for oxygen. Panic crowded the edges of her mind. The only thought was air—sweet, precious air. Her arms and legs felt like lead anchors dragging her back down to the watery depths. She fought their pull with all the strength she had left. Her head broke the surface and she gasped for air.
A cough worked its way up her throat and wracked her frame. Her eyes filled with tears. She treaded water, coughing and spitting, trying to get oxygen back in her lungs.
She had only been under for a few moments but the ships, hulls still grinding together, were thirty meters away. Allison could hear shouts and screams of pain. As she crested on a wave, she saw the rescue ships. They were closer, but still too far to do any good. The pirates were herding their captives. By the time the rescuers arrived, it would be too late for the shrieking women. Buccaneers doused the transport vessel with tacky pitch and struck a spark. Within seconds, flames licked across the polished deck and oily black smoke billowed into the air. The sails caught and blackened. Allison caught a whiff of smoke on the breeze, then the wave passed and she felt herself sinking back into the trough. When she crested again, she twisted about and saw Trix less than ten meters away.
Trix had spotted her at the same time and yelled, “You alright?”
Alison managed a nod.
“Still have my dagger?”
“I’m sorry,” Allison called back. She realized she had lost the weapon but couldn’t remember if she had dropped it when she jumped over the side of the boat or before. “I lost it.”
“You owe me,” Trix said.
Allison swam over. “I’ll buy you another when I find the ten million.”
Trix shook her head. Her blonde ponytail whipped about. “Everyone’s looking for that money. Including”—she paused to gulp air—“my crew.”
The pirate ship was turning into the wind now and the transport vessel was a flaming wreck bobbing in the water. One of the merchant ships veered hard to port, giving chase to the pirates while the other continued on, looking for survivors.
Treading water, Allison asked, “How many… people… in your party?”
“Three,” Trix said. “Why?”
“Lot of people are looking for the money,” Allison told her. “I know where it is.”
The merchant vessel had pulled alongside the flaming transport by now. Trix waved both arms in the air and shouted. Allison, who didn’t trust her ability to tread water without her arms, screamed at the top of her lungs. A sailor at the prow caught sight of them and pointed.
Trix said, “How are you so sure?”
“I’m good,” Allison croaked as she struggled to stay afloat, “with . . . numbers.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tanthus was a bustling harbor town of cobbled lanes and magnificent stone houses packed together. It was one of the few cities that had existed when the Savage Realms launched and looked older still. It was as if some lost civilization had settled here eons ago and grew into a thriving metropolis before fading from existence. The fresh smell of salt water and cookfires mingled with the overpowering stench of dead fish and offal. A dozen ships bobbed on the green waters of the inlet. Sailors and dockhands crowded the stone wharves. Smoke drifted up from hundreds of chimneys.
Allison, wrapped in a
heavy blanket, thanked the crew of the Steadfast one last time before following Trix down the sagging gangplank, past sweaty dock hands, to the bustling streets of Tanthus. She clutched the blanket tight around her shoulders and stared in wonder. Everywhere she looked there were street vendors selling brightly colored bolts of silk and cotton, fresh produce, clucking chickens, blades, and armor. Trix, who had warned her not to mention the money, cut a path through the crowded market with determined strides. Her black leather armor was dripping wet and creaked with every step. Allison caught up and pointed to a fruit stall. “Can you actually eat it?”
“Tastes just like the real thing.” Trix had to raise her voice to be heard over the noise. “Of course, it’s just a feeding tube pumping in proteins, carbs, and essential fats, but your mind won’t know the difference.”
They passed a shop selling silken ball gowns of every color and Allison’s steps faltered. Some of the gowns looked like they had come right out of a fairy tale. Others were indescribable works of bold beauty, cut to reveal and hung with finely wrought silver and precious stones. Trix stopped, turned back, and said, “Food first.”
She led the way along a crowded boulevard to a harborside inn called the Grey Havens. A shingle depicted a foamy mug of ale. The common room had a high ceiling, a riot of tables, and mismatched chairs. Trix flagged down the innkeep, a burly man with hairy wrists and a bushy mustache called Beorn. He greeted her with a smile. “Welcome back. Who’s your friend?”
“She’s fresh off the boat,” Trix said. “She hasn’t got a Realm name yet.”
Beorn nodded his balding head and his brows wrinkled. “Heard there was some trouble with pirates.”
“You’re looking at the only survivors,” Trix told him.
“They get bolder every day.” Beorn shook his head. “Baron Longknife will have to do something about it sooner or later. Can’t be having newbies set upon by pirates.”
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