by Ree Soesbee
“They’re burned,” Livia protested smoothly. “They’ll do us no good.”
“Put them down! All of them! Even the ones that aren’t catching wind. We need to block their line of sight.”
“We have no guns to the rear,” Edair reminded him. “We won’t be able to fire at the Orrians when they give chase.”
“We won’t need our guns. Just unfurl the sails and head west—and keep them on the Trident’s stern!”
Together, the Pride and the Balthazar’s Trident sailed side by side, sails wide and grasping at the ocean wind as the Orrian ship followed them. The xebec continued to fire, and the remaining elementalists on the Krytan galleon did everything they could to turn the blasts aside. Twice, Cobiah thought they would be blown apart by the Orrian attacks, only to see one of the four Krytan guardians lunge forward, shielding the rear of the ship with a protective blue hemisphere of magic. When the Orrian spells impacted upon their magical protection, the guardian’s enchanted shield crumpled, and the protector fell, their life force expended to prevent the blast from reaching the ship—giving their lives to save their fellows.
Cobiah signaled to Sykox. Using charr hand signals designed to coordinate a silent attack, he initiated a countdown. They were almost there . . . almost . . .
“Now! Hard to port!” Yelling, he followed the command with, “Sykox! Hard to starboard!” The charr aboard the Pride were ready, and both crews pulled their rudders hard and twisted their sails to draw them away. The two ships parted like a leaf cut in two by the keen blade of a sword. Their unfurled sails had hidden the sea ahead from their pursuer, keeping the Orrians from recognizing the territory into which they sailed. And as the two ships broke to the sides, they slowed, allowing the Orrian ship to rush between them—and onto a massive, rocky outcropping that jutted up above the waves.
The xebec slammed into the promontory, wood shrieking as moss-covered stone pierced through her fire shield and into the hull itself. The entire ship crashed upward, masts giving way with a terrible cracking sound. They fell forward, snapping the rigging and causing the scarlet sails to founder and unfurl across her deck. The undead crew, caught off guard, flew forward, crashing into her forecastle and tumbling across the ship’s deck. And as her spellcasters lost their concentration, the xebec’s magical protections failed.
“Fire!” Cobiah pounded his fist on the railing. “Now, now, now!”
Cannons fired from both ships, taking advantage of the xebec’s crumpling prow and her lack of magical defenses. Free of the winds that had been enchanted to shroud the portholes and lower decks, the Balthazar’s Trident’s massive cannons could fire at last. By the time the smoke cleared, there was nothing left on the rock except a keel, weathered shards of wood, and a wide scrap of singed red sail.
Edair stood in the center of the deck, commanding the Seraph response to the damage that had been done to his ship. The Krytans obeyed his commands earnestly, doing their best to repair the injuries done to the massive ship’s hull and sails. “Commodore,” the prince called to him. “Looks like the Nomad’s full foundered. We should sail by and offer aid while we can—that asuran friend seems to have lost the beast. It could resurface anywhere.”
Fully aware that the Maw was still out there, Cobiah nodded. The monstrous creature would see a still ship as a target, and it would take little effort for it to destroy a craft that couldn’t move. Across the rippling plain of the bay, Cobiah could see limping Krytan vessels taking aboard rafts of sailors from crushed ships of Lion’s Arch and a flurry of small ships taking on a black-sailed clipper that was trying to take advantage of a Krytan ship on fire. The Pride was headed to meet with the Nadir Shill, pulling alongside the asuran craft to exchange greetings.
Cobiah’s breath came in short gasps, his lungs laboring. The damage he’d taken aboard the Indomitable was significant, but he ignored it. The leviathan was still out there, and at any moment, it could strike. He scanned the sea, trying to catch a glimpse of the creature’s fin or wake, but the waves were so choppy, the number of wrecked and ruined ships so great, that Cobiah could not find any sign of the massive beast.
Battered and weary, the Balthazar’s Trident pulled alongside the Nomad II, its massive bulk making the clipper’s small body look like a delicate koi resting against the bulk of a fat sunfish. “Isaye!” Cobiah called to her.
“Cobiah! Thank the goddess Lyssa, you’re safe. We thought you’d gone down with the Indomitable!” she shouted back from the Nomad II. “Is it over? Is Dane . . .?”
“Your son’s fine. The Maw—it’s still out there. We need to get your crew aboard the Trident. Without sails to move you, your vessel’s a sitting duck.” He heard his own voice shaking and struggled to regain his composure. Sailors on the Seraph vessel hurried to extend planks between the ships so the sailors on the Nomad II could evacuate. “It’s all right. Edair’s made a promise; we need to work together. Hurry.” He reached to take her hand, helping her across the wooden board.
“And you trust him?” she asked skeptically. Still, she couldn’t hide the relief in her eyes as she took his hand. As the rest of the Nomad II’s crew came aboard, Isaye made her way across the plank to Cobiah’s side.
“No. But when we have a choice”—he pulled her toward him—“I’ll let you know.”
“What is Sykox doing?” Isaye asked as she stepped across to the Trident. Leaning against Cobiah, she raised one hand to shield her eyes and squinted out to sea. “Is that Yomm’s ship? Why are the charr going aboard?” Nearby, Rahli helped Tenzin across one of the walkways; he leaned heavily on the bosun. Confused, Cobiah turned to follow Isaye’s gaze, spying the Pride and the Nadir Shill floating side by side. Several of the charr were leaping onto the asuran ship, their weapons at the ready, though there were no undead anywhere that Cobiah could see. Before he could venture an opinion, the Balthazar’s Trident’s bell began to ring. One of the crew nearby shouted, “I see the beast! To starboard, ahoy!”
Indeed, the Maw was rising once more, tearing one of the patchwork ships of Lion’s Arch between its teeth as the monster lifted its massive bulk above the waves. Cobiah heard sailors screaming and wood rending, and saw the vessel’s mangled deck shatter in the monster’s mouth. The leviathan slammed down into the water, scattering dead bodies and ruined canvas in its wake. Huge waves rolled in all directions from the impact, swelling so high that they knocked the Nomad II violently against the Balthazar’s Trident as if she’d been buffeted by a giant’s fist. Cobiah heard boards smash and crack as their hulls crashed against one another.
“Your Highness!” a sailor called out from the far end of the ship. “We’re stuck!”
“Stuck?”
“The boards, sir!”
Pulling Isaye away from the edge of the ship, Cobiah looked past the railing. Indeed, jagged boards in the Nomad II’s hull had impaled the Balthazar’s Trident, twisting their boards together where the clipper’s broken ones jutted out at an angle from the ship. “Get the boat hooks!” commanded Prince Edair. “Tear them apart. We’ll fix the damage after . . .”
Even as he yelled, the Maw rose again, this time on the far side of the Nomad II. Its teeth grazed the hull of the clipper, ripping through boards, tearing apart her lifeboats, and catching in her rigging. The blow hadn’t been dead-on but rather askew, and the Maw continued on past the two ships, expelling water in a wide arc where it crashed back into the sea.
The galleon and the clipper rolled in the waves, pushed gently by the wind and the tossing of the creature’s wake. “We’ve got to get away from the Nomad. We have to keep moving,” Cobiah called to the prince. “As long as we’re moving, it’s harder for the Maw to catch us.”
A nearby sailor shook his head. “Those boards are caught together too well for us to lever them apart without proper tools, sir. We’re trapped.”
“We’ll see about that,” said Grymm Svaard, grasping a long boat hook in either hand. As he wedged them down between the two vessels, Cobiah h
eard the sound of small-arms fire. He looked back over his shoulder and saw the faint smoke of pistols rising from the deck of the Nadir Shill.
The Pride was pulling away from the asuran vessel, her engines chugging full bore. But Cobiah could see charr on the Nadir Shill, and he heard Fassur cursing even this far away across the waves. “What’s going on?”
“Coby!” Sykox roared from the deck of the Nadir Shill. “Coby! That skritt-fink of an asura! She stole our damn ship!”
“Wait—what?” He bolted toward the railing but was forced to stop as the wound in his side flared up agonizingly. “What did you say?” Cobiah yelled back, still holding Isaye close.
“Macha!” The charr pointed desperately after the Pride. “She made us think you were aboard the Shill. It was one of her crazy, confusing illusions—we came across because you ordered it, but then you vanished. By the time we realized it was a trick, the lines had been cut, and her engine’d already gotten them out of leaping range!” Asuran sailors raced about on the little caravel, terrified by the furious charr warband trapped in their midst. Fassur swatted at one, knocking the little fellow into the ship’s hold with a squeak of terror.
“Macha’s here?” Isaye’s hazel eyes flew wide. “What is she doing?”
Cobiah glowered with barely contained rage. “Apparently, she’s stealing the Pride.”
Grymm Svaard stood with one foot on the deck of the Balthazar’s Trident and the other foot on the deck of the Nomad II, shoving two long boat hooks down between their hulls. Crew from both ships lined the railing, with boat hooks, halberds, and other poles, trying to lever the two ships away from one another. The boards groaned and creaked but held firm, tangled together. The norn’s muscles bulged, and he shouted encouragement to the sailors, each hand gripping a boat hook scissored between the hulls. The boards cracked slowly apart under the push of his mighty strength.
“She’s taking on water,” Edair noted, lending his strength to the task. “The Nomad’s sinking.” The prince labored side by side with his sailors, ignoring the fact that his golden sleeves were torn and his elegant silk shirt was stained with blood and salt water.
“That’s the least of our worries,” retorted Cobiah. “If the Maw hits, we’ll be dead long before she can pull us down.” He could see Livia issuing subtle orders to the Shining Blade and noted that they were readying one of the rear lifeboats without commentary. He snorted. If the Maw struck their ship, Edair would likely be spirited away in a wink of Livia’s magic—with or without the prince’s consent.
But as for the rest of them . . .
“There it is!” A sailor pointed. The Maw broke the surface of the ocean on the far side of the Nomad II, its fin splitting the waves in the shadow of the drifting ships. The monster circled, drawing ever closer, and Cobiah could almost sense it deciding how best to attack the enticing morsel drifting in the waves.
The Maw rose before them, its massive teeth pulling apart as its jaws opened, revealing the enormous depth of the leviathan’s mouth. Sailors on the Balthazar’s Trident screamed in terror as they desperately tried to free the galleon from the Nomad II’s sinking grip. “If I can get to the Nomad’s cannons, I can try to shoot inside its mouth, maybe hit something vital. I might hurt it enough to make it change its path.” Cobiah tried to limp forward, forcing his battered body to carry him onward one last time. But Isaye kept her hands on his shoulders, and the gentle restraint was enough to pull him back.
“It won’t make a difference, Coby,” Isaye whispered, pressing her face to Cobiah’s chest. “Oh, gods. I don’t want it to end like this. Dane . . .”
“Shh.” Cobiah pressed his hand to her hair, pulling Isaye close and holding her tightly.
“No, I have to tell you.” Isaye stepped back, meeting his eyes. “Dane’s your son, Cobiah. I was pregnant when I left Lion’s Arch. After he was born, I kept him from you because I was angry that you didn’t give me a chance to explain. I wanted to say something, but . . .” Tears poured down her cheeks. “I should have. You’re his father, Coby . . . and I love you.”
Overwhelmed, Cobiah bowed his head and kissed her, tears salting their lips. He stroked Isaye’s hair without words. Whatever happened, no matter how short their lives were, he never intended to let her go again.
To the side of the Balthazar’s Trident came a rumble that swiftly turned into a roar. Cobiah raised his head in confusion, staring as the Pride raced past the conjoined ships, so close that the churning of her engine blew up a salt spray that drenched the deck of the tremendous galleon. “Macha’s pushed the engine into overdrive,” Cobiah said, marveling, recognizing the sound. With her engine booming, the Pride bored past, swerving and weaving on a trajectory that would take her directly toward the Maw. “Macha can’t crew the ship alone,” Cobiah said numbly. “What’s she doing? It must be out of control.”
“I don’t think she plans to go far, Cobiah,” Isaye breathed. “Look.”
As they watched, the Pride slid in front of the Balthazar’s Trident. Her hardy engine blew sparks in her wake, and her keel lifted up off the water as she crested the bay’s rolling waves. The Maw’s mouth was splayed open before her, ready to swallow the pinnace whole on its way toward the two foundering vessels.
That leviathan’s too big to take down with cannons. Still, I’m a genius first class, and as usual, I’ve got an idea.
“What? Macha? What are you doing?” Cobiah said aloud, not caring that the sailors on the Balthazar’s Trident were staring at him in confusion.
I’m sorry, Coby. It wasn’t supposed to end this way. I just wanted to balance the etheric transference between our spirits within the Eternal Alchemy. To pay my dues.
“Macha!” he yelled, clutching Isaye close and watching as the Pride raced ever faster toward the massive sea monster. A second later, the pinnace plowed directly into the wide-jawed mouth of the Maw. The clipper drove into the back of the leviathan’s throat, engine thrumming with immense power. As he watched in horror, something within the Pride’s hold caught fire.
Good-bye, Co—
The ship exploded.
Stunned and wounded by the detonation, the Maw could do nothing to save itself. The forefront of the behemoth erupted in the blast, body lashing helplessly as its head and neck were blown apart. Reduced to headless flesh and shattered bone, the monster thrashed in the waves, its death throes churning the sea to red and white foam.
Grief tinged Cobiah’s words. “She knew that engine as well as I did. As well as Sykox. It had to be deliberate. She turned the Pride into a bomb.”
“She killed the Maw,” Isaye said wonderingly. “Macha saved us. But why?”
He pulled her closer, wrapping his cloak around them both. “She said she wanted to make things right. And she gave her life to do it.” Cobiah watched the vast body of the leviathan sinking into the waves at the mouth of Sanctum Harbor.
“Macha died to defeat the enemies of Lion’s Arch.” Cobiah looked up at the morning sky, breathing in the scent of the sea and the faint smell of smoke and oil. Remembering what the asura’d said, Cobiah continued, “She paid her dues. Let her be honored as a hero.” Isaye nodded in agreement, a sad smile curving her full lips. Although his body ached and his legs felt like collapsing, Isaye was warm within his arms, and the world finally felt at peace.
“Farewell, little angel,” Cobiah whispered, though whether he was speaking to Macha or to the spirit of his sister, he wasn’t sure. “Thank you for watching over me.”
The Balthazar’s Trident dropped anchor in Sanctum Harbor, her sails furled and her long green-and-gold banners waving with wounded dignity from the tops of her tremendous masts. Scarred and burned wood showed how much damage she’d taken, and a narrow hole in her hull just above the waterline marked the spot where she’d been pierced by the Nomad II. One of her sails was burned through, and her rear jibs had been broken by the fire cannons of the pursuing xebec. Other ships of the Krytan fleet were even more damaged. Many, both from Kryta
and from Lion’s Arch, had been lost in the assault.
“That was not my fault!” Yomm shouted from the Nadir Shill as she pulled alongside the other two ships. “Macha promised she was going to use her magic to help the city. She said absolutely nothing about stealing a ship or detonating herself in the harbor! It was completely unprofessional of her, and I shall be filing an ex post facto grievance with the Arcane Council of Rata Sum.”
“She saved our lives,” Cobiah corrected him wryly.
“Yes, well, I shall also be proposing that the Arcane Council award her the Incantrix Luminus, our highest award of honor.” The asura captain sniffed disdainfully and crossed his arms. “But that still doesn’t absolve her of the indignity.”
Isaye and Cobiah helped Sykox across a gangplank that had been placed between the Nadir Shill and the Balthazar’s Trident. Fassur and Aysom followed close behind, keeping their hands on the hilts of their pistols. On the Balthazar’s Trident, armored Seraph lowered their halberds in readiness, bristling at the charr. The warband snarled, teeth bared, ready for a fight.
“Cut it out, guys,” Cobiah managed to say, his breath coming in short gasps. Though he wasn’t able to yell, his soft words quelled the charr as if they’d been a tribune’s bellow. Cobiah turned to glare at the Seraph, aware that nothing he said could command them.
“Stand down, Seraph.” As the prince’s marines stepped back, confused, Edair shoved his way through the guard. “You heard me,” he growled, pushing the blades of their pole-arms to the floor. “These charr and their fleet just saved our lives. They may be our enemies, but you’ll treat them with respect, or you’ll be swimming home.” Properly chagrined, the Seraph relaxed a bit and stepped to the side.
“They aren’t.” Breathing between taut lips, Cobiah kept his arm around Isaye’s shoulders to steady his balance. “Your enemy, that is. These charr are my crew. Citizens of Lion’s Arch.”
