And it didn’t like to be contained.
A bolt struck the water off the left side, spraying water into the air. The wind tore a sail free with a vicious howl. The crew rushed to tie it back down, but the wind had it in its grip.
Calm the wind.
Res’s eyes glowed a soft silver as power emanated down the cord. A moment later, the wind curtailed and quieted, allowing the crew to secure the sail. No sooner had they than the gale came screaming back, almost throwing Talon off his feet.
“Saints!” Kiva seized my arm with one hand and the ship railing with the other. The wind broke, but only just, and then thunder echoed. Rain lashed the deck, stinging my face and arms, and the sea pitched higher and higher.
Res screeched as a bolt of lightning forked to the side, deflected by his power. The thunder pounded like a drum, the sky flashing with light.
“He’s making it worse, Captain!” a voice called above the storm. Onis had seized Samra’s arm on the deck below. “Or else he’s incurred its wrath. I’ve never seen the like of this!”
The wind snapped Samra’s response away, and I gritted my teeth against the urge to yell at Onis. The storm needed my whole attention.
Yet before I could turn away, light sparked in the sky above them. Instinct took over, and I screamed for Res. His wings flared wide as the bolt struck, singeing the very air.
And somehow, he caught it.
The lightning bolt held fully formed above Onis’s and Samra’s heads. It twitched, fizzing in and out of shape like light diffusing through a crystal as Res struggled to hold it. Heat and light radiated off the bolt, casting the stunned faces of the crew in a ghastly glow.
Then Res thrust the bolt aside with a snap of his wings.
It struck the mainmast. Wood splintered in every direction, and the yard snapped, the sail tumbling and tangling into the netting and ropes below. The mast groaned and swayed in the heavy wind, listing hard to the side.
“Slow its fall!” I screamed at Res.
His earth crow power caught the mast a moment before it crashed into the deck, nearly crushing a crew member who’d scrambled away too slowly.
“That night-cursed demon nearly killed us all!” Onis cried.
“He just saved your life!” I yelled back.
Onis scowled. “This storm is his doing to start with. I—”
“Enough!” Samra’s voice roared above the storm. “Onis, back to your post. Talon, Caylus, tie the mast down. Thia, get us through this Duren-forsaken storm!”
We fell into motion at her orders. I focused on helping Res control the storm. The lightning had already calmed, the rain’s rhythm slowing. Res helped quiet the remaining elements, slowing the wind and pushing aside the final bouts of rain.
As the last of the dark clouds faded to silver, they parted, letting through slivers of incandescent sunlight. It flooded the deck in gold, shimmering in the water.
The ship fell silent as the water stilled. An entire ship’s worth of eyes settled on Res and me.
Then Talon let out a low whistle. “Remind me not to make the crow angry.”
* * *
Under Caylus’s instruction and with Res’s aid, the crew was able to repair the mast and jerry-rig it into functioning. Caylus seemed happy to have a new project, and Samra was happy to let him handle it, even as she grumbled over every little scratch and nick the ship had taken. The sails were patched, the deck cleaned of water and debris.
When the work was done and the afternoon light waning, I sought out Onis. Our trip together was nearly at an end, but he was one of Samra’s crew, which meant he was a rebel. If he was going to fight with us, he couldn’t treat Res like a rabid dog.
He stood by the repaired mainmast, eyeing me as if I were a pit of desert snakes. His fingers played with the frayed ropes of the knots at his belt, worn from his constant touch. I started toward him, and he abruptly peeled off, heading for the crew quarters. Scowling, I followed.
When he reached the bottom of the short flight of stairs, he spun on me. “Stop following me, girl!”
“We need to talk,” I replied, lifting my head. “And my name isn’t girl. It’s Princess Anthia Cerralté.”
Onis shifted his jaw as if working a loose tooth. “You’re not my princess.”
“No. I’m just the person trying to organize an alliance to free your kingdom from a vicious ruler. Or don’t you care about any of that?”
“It isn’t you I have any problem with! It’s that night-cursed creature.” His fingers sought his talismans. “You Rhodairens always put so much stock in your magic, but you never thought about where it came from. I’ve seen you reading those stories. Anything born of the Sellas is evil!”
“Res isn’t evil!” I forced my voice back down. “He’s trying to help. He saved your life.”
Onis sneered. “That storm probably came for him to begin with.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He waved a dismissive hand. Before I could press him more, a sharp crack sounded from above. A moment later, something snapped and the ship shuddered.
Onis and I bolted up the stairs, bursting onto a frenzied deck. Sailors shouted, Samra’s voice cutting above them all as she dealt out orders. And there, stuck through the middle of the deck like a massive spear, was the top of the main mainmast.
“I thought Caylus fixed the damn thing!” Kiva appeared at my side.
So had I. But apparently the damage from the storm had been too much. The topmost sail had been brought down with the wood, tearing through the mainmast.
I frowned. The mainsail was useless, but the ship wasn’t taking on water, and we still had the other two sails. I knew next to nothing about sailing, but it seemed the worst impact was on our speed, not our safety. So why was everyone flying about as if the ship were on fire?
“Oh Saints,” Kiva breathed.
I followed her gaze to the horizon, where a strip of land grew slowly larger. But that wasn’t the problem.
The problem was the line of ships flying blue and gold flags.
Illucian ships.
Eleven
I stared at the line of ships, my shoulders falling as the strength dwindled from my body. On the other side of those ships, Trendell waited. I could see land, but we would never reach it before the ships caught us.
We’d been so close.
A smaller ship broke through the line, slowly coming toward us.
Spotting Samra, I cut through the scurrying sailors tying off ropes and preparing for battle. Aroch perched on her shoulder, maintaining his balance with an uncanny precision as the captain turned about, bellowing orders.
Onis beat me to her, shouting at the stern-faced woman over the commotion. “This is her fault, Captain.” He gestured at me. “Her and that damned beast. They’re bad luck, the both of them.”
Res snapped his beak. The sailor edged away half a step.
Samra raised her hand. “Get back to your post, Onis. I’ll handle this.”
Onis shot me a last dark look before heading for the quarterdeck. I glowered after him, then snapped my attention back to Samra.
As always, her face was as difficult to read as an unfamiliar language. Yet I could guess what she was thinking—I’d put her and her ship in harm’s way. We couldn’t outrun the Illucian ships, not with a broken mast. And if she was captured, the Ambriellan rebels would be leaderless and her family at Razel’s mercy.
Hesitation passed across her face. She didn’t know what to do.
I seized the moment. “I have an idea.”
* * *
“This is going to end badly,” Kiva said.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I replied, wiping my sweating hands on my pants. We stood alone on the quarterdeck: her, Res, and me. The Illucian ship had already crossed half the d
istance separating us. We couldn’t fight—we’d be annihilated. Which meant we had to run. If we could reach land, we’d be safe.
Anxious energy flooded down the line from Res. I reached for him, and he pressed his head against my hand. Relief swelled through me—until Caylus’s panicked call rose over the tumult of voices.
“Thia!”
I glanced up, following his outstretched hand to the fast approaching ship. The blue of its flags was brighter than the others, the design clearer now that it was so close.
A kingfisher.
It was Malkin’s ship.
“Captain!” Talon called from the crow’s nest. “The Illucian queen is on that ship.”
My heart plummeted, and I whirled back to face the ship. Sunlight glinted off gold. A figure stood at the prow, golden hair bound back in a heavy braid streaming behind her in the wind. Even from here, her icy gaze pinned me to the spot.
Razel had come for me herself.
My scarred hand prickled with phantom pain.
“Thia.” Kiva blocked my line of sight, forcing my gaze to hers. “This changes nothing. We stick to the plan.”
“She’s exposed, Kiva,” I hissed. “We could end this now.”
“If you attack that ship, the whole fleet will bear down on us. Our only chance is escaping.”
The thought of running again scraped at me. I wanted to face Razel and put an end to this saga, but Kiva was right.
Res cawed, sending pulses of understanding and comfort, and I seized them, forcing my emotions down.
On the main deck, the crew had readjusted the sails and torn down the rest of the mainsail to keep it from getting in the way. Samra had watched the destruction with a flickering muscle in her jaw.
I’d started to apologize, then stopped. Samra didn’t want apologies; she wanted action. Res and I would fix this. We had to.
I spotted Caylus tying off a rope, his skin flushed and beaded with sweat. He caught my gaze, offering a smile that settled my nerves, despite knowing the turmoil that had to be turning inside him.
Samra joined us on the quarterdeck, Aroch gone from her shoulder. “We’re ready.”
“All right.” I let out a breath and reached down the cord to Res. Let’s go.
With a flash of his wings, Res leapt onto the back rail of the ship. The sky darkened. Clouds began to form, gray and heavy with impending rain. They materialized from the air and spread outward like a ripple of water. Our bond hummed, a steady beat of magic that danced along my skin like the brush of a charged wind.
The clouds crackled with power. Beside me, Samra muttered a prayer that I couldn’t make out over the rising winds, one hand clenching the rope knots at her belt.
Res didn’t need the storm to summon wind, but I could feel his familiar comfort with it. It came so much more naturally.
“Funnel the winds into the sails,” I told him. They’d been set to drive us straight for the coast, though Samra had warned they likely wouldn’t survive the sustained beating of Res’s wind. They just had to last long enough to get us to land.
Wind exploded around us. The Aizel rocked as the current caught the sails and waves smashed against the hull. Several sailors cursed vehemently. I spread my stance, steadying myself.
Funnel it! Even in my head, my voice sounded anxious. If Res lost control of the storm, he’d send us to the bottom of the ocean instead.
The Illucian sailors seemed to have realized something was happening. People scurried across the deck, adjusting sails and—my breath caught. Two massive harpoon launchers were fastened to the front of the ship, the spears loaded.
Doubt crept onto my shoulders like a hissing snake. This was my plan. My call. If this failed, if Res’s storm broke atop us… I caught Kiva’s gaze, and the steadiness behind it centered me. There was no time to second-guess myself. This was happening.
The sails caught the wind, and the ship lurched forward. Res let out a shrill cry. His wings lifted slightly, as if eager to catch the draft. I felt my excitement mirrored inside him, felt it sling across the connection between us in a flurry of energy.
Rain began to fall, heavy and full.
Attack the ship! I sent an image of lightning striking the Illucian ship from above. Energy crackled around Res’s body. It sparked in the sky, the clouds set alight. Thunder boomed, breaking across the sky like an earthquake.
Our sails strained, but even with the increased speed, we were too close to the Illucian ship. We’d be in range of the spears.
“Res!” I called above the wind.
He cawed back, and a bolt of lightning struck the sea feet from the Illucian ship.
“Again!”
A heavy thud sounded behind me, and I whirled in time to narrowly avoid the strong arms of Onis. He lunged for me again. I sidestepped him.
Kiva snarled, barreling forward. She drove Sinvarra’s hilt into Onis’s stomach. He doubled over, gasping for breath.
“Stand down!” Samra ordered, wide-eyed. I’d never seen her surprised.
“She’s going to get us all killed!” Onis yelled. He threw a hand at the gathering storm. The clouds had spread, blanketing the sky in darkness. The lightning crackling around Res’s body had grown, sparking and gnashing like a pack of vicious hounds.
We were losing control.
Something snapped. A rope came loose below. It whipped through the air, nearly catching Talon around the throat. He stumbled back, avoiding it, but at the same moment, a heavy wave struck the ship, careening over the edge and across the deck.
When it pulled back, he was gone.
“Talon!” I lurched forward. A flash of movement, and then Caylus was there, reaching over the edge, seizing something I couldn’t see. He pulled back, and Talon’s arm appeared over the edge of the ship. A sharp wind gusted, throwing another wave of water at the ship—right for Talon and Caylus.
“No!” I screamed. Res screamed with me, his cry shrill as screeching metal.
The wave stopped as if it’d struck a wall. Then it lashed backward, collapsing in on itself, just as Caylus pulled Talon over the railing and onto the deck, both soaked and panting. Caylus glanced up at me, green eyes wide, auburn curls plastered to his drenched skin.
This time, I felt the magic threading through me as I felt it course through Res. When I turned, his eyes glowed bright silver.
“Demon!” Onis yelled, drawing a long dagger. “She’ll bring the Night Captain down on us all.”
Kiva had Sinvarra out faster than I could track, the black gold blade gleaming with salty mist. She parried Onis’s attack, and then Samra was there, moving as smoothly as a gliding crow. She disarmed Onis, and his blade clattered to the deck. She kicked it away, twisting his wrist until he cried out, dropping to his knees.
But it was too late.
Another boom sounded, deeper and more resonate than the crack of thunder. Wood splintered as a harpoon spear pierced what remained of the mainmast, sending sharp fragments raining in all directions. Boom. A second spear bore through the mizzenmast.
Onis’s interference had been enough; the Illucian ship had us.
As the ropes retracted, the wood groaned and the space between the ships closed. The rolling waves tossed us together, turning the Aizel so we ran parallel to Malkin’s ship. His mercenary crew stood along the topsails. Some held a hooked board to create a walkway. As the board fell, linking us together, and the mercenaries leapt from the sails with rope in hand to swing across the roiling sea, my eyes found one figure among the rest.
Razel stood a mere few feet away. The edges of her moonblades stretched from her shoulders like wings. She met my gaze and smiled.
Then everything erupted into chaos.
* * *
The battle spilled across the deck. Illucian soldiers and Malkin’s men clashed with Samra’s crew as rain poured incessantl
y. I spotted the copper hair of Malkin among them. His eyes were set on Caylus even as he dueled a sailor.
Something struck wood behind me. The next moment, Kiva threw me to the deck. Another arrow whizzed over my head, lodging in the railing between Res’s claws. He screeched and leapt from the railing, taking to the sky just as a third one landed beside the second.
I wrenched my bow off my back. Fighting back to my feet, I used the wheel as a shield. With the archer’s attention on Res, I nocked an arrow, stepped to the side, and loosed.
It struck the archer in the shoulder, and he dropped his bow.
At the edge of the ship, Razel had approached the plank, preparing to cross.
Res! The board!
Res swept low, a funnel of wind at his back. It slammed into the board, knocking it free a second before Razel could cross. The smallest relief flickered, and then I saw the smile on her face.
She took a step back, and another. Then she sprinted full force at the ship’s edge. She jumped, one foot striking the railing, and leapt. She sailed across the open ocean, clearing the Aizel’s railing with ease, and landed in a roll, springing to her feet with the litheness of a jungle cat.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Kiva growled, hefting Sinvarra.
Razel grinned. “Hello, Thia dear.”
I nocked an arrow and fired. She dove to the side, and the arrow lodged in the deck where she’d been. Back on her feet, she drew her moonblades, the curved, dome-shaped blades glinting. Behind her, Malkin had downed his opponent and now advanced upon Caylus, who backed warily toward the bowsprit.
Indecision rooted me to the spot. Razel wanted me alive; she wouldn’t kill me, which granted me an advantage. I was safe. My friends were not.
I sprinted down to the main deck. Nocking an arrow, I drew up short and released it into the nearest Illucian soldier’s leg. He cried out and dropped to one knee. Then a flash of red was before him, and Talon drove the butt of his blade into the man’s temple. The soldier crumpled.
The Crow Rider Page 9
