by Ben Wolf
“I’m not your friend.” Calum’s jaw hardened. “You murdered Magnus.”
The Werewolf waved his hand in front of his chest and shook his head. “I did no such thing. Ye saw what happened to ’im yarself. A shark got ’im.”
Calum recalled the name of the meager town where they’d set sail: Sharkville. It had been a warning of sorts, but he hadn’t known to heed it at the time.
Indignant, he said, “You knocked him overboard.”
“Had he surrendered, he would surely still breathe this fragrant lake air. The Overlord has exacted justice upon ’im, and I shall not question it.” The Werewolf leaned so close that Calum could smell the stink of fish on his breath. “Now what be yar name?”
“What do you care? Go on and kill us already. Get it over with.”
The Werewolf straightened up and tilted his head. “Who said anything about killin’ ye? Young ’n healthy, ye be. I’m making ye a part o’ me crew.”
“We don’t want to be part of your crew.” Axel stood up and kept straining against the Saurians who held him in place. “So let us go.”
“Is he always so demandin’?” The Werewolf pointed at Axel with his thumb. Part of Calum wanted to say yes, but he bit his tongue. “Ye don’t have a choice.”
“You can’t make us join your crew,” Axel said.
“Aye, but I can, an’ I will,” the Werewolf countered. “I don’t have to kill ye, and I don’t have to let ye go. Like I said: ye don’t have a choice.”
Axel spat on the deck near the Werewolf’s feet, which earned him a backhanded smack from the Werewolf’s thick paw.
“What be yar name, boy?” the Werewolf asked.
Axel glared at him. “Axel. Remember it when you’re laying at my feet, begging for mercy.”
The Werewolf chuckled. “Yar sense of humor is palpable.”
“I’m not joking.”
“Nor am I, boy.” The Werewolf stepped back to Calum. “And ye be called…?”
“Calum.”
The Werewolf nodded. “I be Brink, cap’n o’ the pirate ship Malice. Welcome to me crew.”
By now Lilly had to have lost the other Windgale pirate. He’d stopped following her, and she’d stopped popping in and out of clouds.
Still, if she’d learned anything from getting captured by Roderick and his men that first time, it was to never let her guard down in the vicinity of danger.
Perhaps the Windgale had given up and flown back to his ship, or perhaps he was hiding in one of the clouds, waiting for her to fly past and then ambush her. Either way, she’d behave like he was still out there, hunting her.
Hovering near the clouds had lost its advantages, so she dropped down to about ten feet above the water level and took a moment to regain her bearings. She’d flown northwest from the ships once Magnus told her to fly away, and she’d gone so far that now the ships were out of sight.
No matter—she’d find her way back to her friends, and she’d find a way to rescue them, just as they’d done for her.
Lilly maintained her ten-foot altitude as she headed back the direction she’d come, more or less. Every so often she’d glance down at the water and see her shadow tracing her route along the water. If another one showed up behind her or in front of her, she’d know she wasn’t alone.
After a few minutes of constant flight, she stopped and scanned the waters. Still no ships in sight. Was she going the right way? Perhaps a higher altitude, while more dangerous, would give a better view of the surrounding waterscape.
As she climbed higher, something whistled on her right side.
She brandished her sword in time to fend off a savage attack from the Windgale pirate, but the force of his blow sent her careening down toward the water. She righted herself about twenty feet above the surf and dodged the pirate’s next attack.
He blazed past her, but her body jerked down after him. His left hand had latched onto the corner of her cape, and he yanked her toward him.
Lilly reacted blade-first. Her weapon clanged against his, but this Windgale fought with more skill than the others. He deflected her next swing, clamped down on her right wrist with his left hand, then jabbed his sword at her gut.
She twisted her body out of the way just in time, then she caught the wrist of his sword hand with her left hand just as he’d done to her.
He glowered at her with bloodshot brown eyes and a snarl churning his scarred face. His cape billowed behind him, black like the sails of the pirate ship.
Lilly’s hold didn’t last long. He was stronger—much stronger. He wrenched free and lashed his chipped cutlass sword at her midsection.
She kicked both her feet up over her head, and his sword severed only the air. She rotated her wrist hard, breaking his grip. An errant slash at his hand only managed to carve a small cut into his palm.
He growled and charged. His arms wrapped around her waist, and from ten feet up, they slammed into the water—the one place she didn’t want to be.
Everything blurred under the water, and her lungs begged for air. Panic threatened to overwhelm her. She’d swum before—certainly as a child and for fun—but she’d never engaged in water-based combat. Staying above the water had been her preference, but now she had no choice.
He still held onto her, and no matter how she thrashed, he refused to let go. Even when she dug the heel of her boot into his shin, he refused to release her. With no other options, she lurched forward, toward his scarred face, and sank her desperate teeth into his nose.
Blood erupted from the wound, and he released her to clench at the new scars she’d given him. Finally, she swam up to the surface.
Air expanded her lungs as she treaded water. Swimming wasn’t like flying—it was so much harder. Her body felt as if it weighed five times as much as usual.
She pushed against the water to boost herself into the air so she could fly again, but as soon as she took flight, the pirate grabbed her cape again and hauled her back down into the water.
This time his hand clamped onto her hair and he held her underwater, facing away from him. She kicked and struggled and maneuvered, but she couldn’t break free. Her body ached, and her lungs expelled the last of the air she’d sucked in before going under.
She shifted her grip so her sword pointed back at him, but he clamped onto her wrist and kept her from stabbing at him. Her left hand found his, and she dug her fingernails into his knuckles, drawing more blood, but he still didn’t let go.
No matter what she did or tried, his grip continued to hold her in place.
The air in her lungs turned toxic. She needed to breathe.
But the pirate refused to budge.
This is it, she realized. She would die in the lake, at the hands of some common pirate. She’d never see her parents, her home, or her people again. It’s over.
Lilly closed her eyes and prepared for the water to fill her anxious lungs.
Vertigo flipped her upside down and sent her spiraling through the water. The pirate had completely let go of her—both her hair and her wrist. She clambered for the surface and found it with a gasp and a lot of sputtering.
The pirate wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
She jumped out of the water and ascended five feet into the air again, her sword ready, her eyes searching everywhere.
The pirate burst out of the water a second later, flying right at her with an expression of terror etched into his scarred bloody face, but before he could reach her, a massive black mouth full of huge pointed teeth chomped shut on his legs.
Lilly’s eyes widened.
The pirate screamed.
The jaws opened again, and the rest of the pirate dropped inside the monster’s gullet, but the monster didn’t stop coming at her. Its lifeless black eyes rolled back into its wide head as its jaws opened even wider, greedy to taste her flesh next
Lilly recoiled and rolled to her left, and something solid smacked against her back. She hit the water again. She must’ve drifted too low, a
nd now she was back in the waves, treading water.
And the monster was coming for her next.
A black dorsal fin pierced the surface, circled back, and raced toward her.
Lilly thrust herself out of the water and took to the sky as the monster leaped at her. Its angled nose smacked the sides of her boots and threw her off her trajectory, but she managed to stay in the air this time.
The creature smacked back down into the water as she flew higher and higher until she hovered a hundred feet above the waterline. Its dorsal fin circled a red spot in the water a few more times, then it finally submerged and didn’t reappear.
Drenched, startled, and somehow still holding her sword, Lilly shut her eyes and logged a silent prayer of thanks to the Overlord. She sheathed her sword, gripped her cape in her hands, and twisted it until most of the water squeezed out, then she did the same thing to her hair. She could air dry the rest of herself with a few acrobatic spirals at higher altitudes later on.
Somehow, her bowstring hadn’t snapped amid all the fighting and thrashing, so her bow was still slung over her shoulder. She still had all of her remaining arrows in her quiver, too—everything she hadn’t already fired, anyway. It was designed specifically for Windgales so the arrows wouldn’t fall out during loops and stunts. Apparently, it held up in water, too.
Good enough for now.
She had to get back to the boat to see what had happened to her friends. Lilly zipped upward, set her altitude to just below the clouds and plenty high above the water, and she headed southeast.
Fifteen minutes later, she found their boat, now empty and capsized. The bait and some of the equipment floated in crates in the water, and some of the fish still wriggled in the nets now strewn overboard while more of those huge black water monsters circled and occasionally nipped at the nets.
She counted at least three dorsal fins in close proximity to the boat—more than enough to keep her from descending too low, especially after her last close encounter with the beasts.
The pirate ship was gone, out of sight.
The last she’d seen of them, Magnus was in the water, and Calum and Axel were captured. She couldn’t do anything about Magnus—either he’d made it or not—but if the pirates had taken Calum and Axel back to their ship, maybe there was still a chance to help them.
A voice inside her mind urged her to continue the journey back to Aeropolis alone, but her heart wouldn’t abide it. If there was even a chance her friends were still alive, she had to do everything possible to save them.
Either way, she would know as soon as she found that pirate ship.
Chapter Six
Pain split Calum’s back. Krogan, a scar-faced Saurian and first mate aboard the Malice, drew his hand back for another lash. The whip seared into Calum’s flesh like a hot poker. He ground his teeth and dropped to his hands and knees.
“Hey, cut it out.” From the tone of Axel’s voice, Calum knew he was going to do something stupid. “You wanna whip someone, whip me.”
Yep. Stupid.
The whip cracked again, and Axel landed on the deck next to Calum with a red laceration that stretched from just below his left eye down his cheek. Blood oozed from the fresh wound.
“I can take a beating, Axel,” Calum whispered to him. “I had more than my share at the quarry.”
“Doesn’t mean you should have to take any more.” Krogan’s whip cracked again, and Axel winced.
“Doesn’t mean you should take them for me, either.”
“While you’re down there, start scrubbin’ the deck.” Krogan grunted. “Wanna see my pretty green face in its reflection within the hour.”
Krogan tossed two coarse scrub brushes in front of them, and a burly human pirate set down a sudsy bucket within their reach.
Right after Calum and Axel boarded the Malice, the pirates stripped them of their armor and confiscated their weapons. Another pirate took the remainder of their equipment and supplies away, and Krogan promptly put them to work.
Even in spite of their situation, Calum had to note the irony: Krogan, a Saurian, was whipping him in order to force him to perform manual labor, just as Calum had been ordered to whip Magnus back at the quarry. Funny how things turned out sometimes.
Fire flared along Calum’s back again.
“I said start scrubbin’,” Krogan roared.
Calum picked up the brush, dunked it into the bucket, and jammed it against the deck.
By nightfall, Lilly still hadn’t found the pirate ship, and all her flying was beginning to wear on her. She’d begun to lose hope when she noticed an orange flicker down on the water, probably a couple miles away.
As she closed in on the sight, she recognized those familiar black sails under the moonlight and the deck of a pirate ship alive with multiple oil lamps.
If only Axel had found one of those aboard their now-sunken boat, perhaps he could’ve found a way to cook his fish with it, she mused, then she refocused on the task ahead.
“Got you,” she muttered.
Yes, she’d found the ship, but what was she supposed to do now?
The lock in the cell door clunked into place with a quarter-turn of the skeleton key, one of about a half-dozen lookalikes that hung from Krogan’s belt on an iron key ring.
Axel had noted it the instant he saw Krogan. The Saurian always wore it on his right side, at least so far, and he knew it unhooked from Krogan’s belt a certain way, or it wouldn’t come off at all.
Important information to know and remember for later on. But at the moment, Axel faced more pressing concerns, like his own exhaustion, the lingering sting from Krogan’s whiplashes, and the six disgruntled prisoners with whom he and Calum currently shared a ten-by-ten cell.
“Evening,” he said with a nod.
None of them responded, but Calum nodded to them as well.
“I’m Calum,” he said. “This is Axel. We’re, uh—we’re new.”
“How do things usually go at night around here?” Axel’s gaze flitted between the hardened faces in his cell to those of the prisoners in the adjacent cell.
No one said a word, but no one broke eye contact either.
Axel clapped his hands and waved. “Hello? Anyone? All your tongues get cut out or something?”
“Why don’t you two just shut up?” came a voice from the back of the cell.
Axel squinted. Only one lantern burned under the deck, and it didn’t give off a whole lot of light through its clouded glass panes. “Who said that?”
A massive human form arose from against the back wall of the ship and stepped into the light. Big guy, a good four inches taller than Axel, and broader, too. Short, scruffy hair crowned his head and stubble dotted his round chin. Bitterness oozed from in his brown eyes under a furrowed brow.
“I did,” he said.
“You got a name?” Axel stepped toward him. Big or not, he’d stand toe-to-toe with the brute if it meant he and Calum would be safe among the prisoners. Maybe they could even organize an escape attempt and convince these losers to help.
“Yurgev.”
“Well, Yurgev, I asked a question.” Axel kept his hands at his sides in case Yurgev tried anything. Magnus—may the Overlord guide his soul to peace—had taught him to always be ready for a fight whether it looked likely or not. “When I ask questions, I expect answers. Crystal?”
Yurgev leaned forward. “And I told you to shut up. When I tell someone to shut up, I expect them to shut up. Crystal?”
Axel clenched his fists. If Yurgev wanted to play it this way, he would happily oblige. “I’ll show you what’s crystal.”
Calum stepped between them. “Easy, guys. No need to—”
Yurgev shoved Calum against the bars adjacent to the other cell, which rattled from the impact.
It was all the excuse Axel needed to get to work.
He drove his left fist into Yurgev’s gut, then his right cracked against Yurgev’s chin.
Around them, the other prisoners who
oped and hollered, both cheering Yurgev on and scrambling to get away from the fight itself.
Yurgev staggered back a half step, then he swung at Axel. Had it connected, the blow might’ve knocked Axel into another world, but he ducked under the punch, threw a sharp jab into Yurgev’s stomach, then delivered a stunning uppercut to Yurgev’s nose.
He dropped to the floor, stunned. Axel started to head toward him but Calum pulled him back when the other five prisoners, all with rage in their eyes and clenched fists, stepped between them and Yurgev.
“What did you just get us into?” Calum muttered.
“Nothin’ we can’t handle.” Axel rubbed his sore right fist. Punching idiots hurt more without his armored gauntlets on.
The other five prisoners in the cell stalked toward them.
“Hey.” A low growl split the tension. Krogan’s taloned green feet descended below deck until he stood at the base of the stairs. “What’s all the ruckus?”
Axel started to say something, but Krogan held up his hand.
“I’m puttin’ you two in a different cell. You cause any more trouble, I’ll get my whip back out.” Krogan unlocked the cell and hauled them both out, then he thrust them into the adjacent cell. “Play nice. You’ll be very, very sorry if I gotta come back down here tonight.”
Axel watched him lock the cell with a different skeleton key than the previous cell—or at least he thought it was a different one—then he hooked his keys back onto his belt in the same way, same side as before. Consistency was good.
As Krogan clomped back up the stairs, Axel scanned the eyes of the eight men who’d already occupied the cell before he and Calum got here. Instead of anger, Axel found distress, dismay, and surprise. In some ways he preferred anger, as he could more easily channel it into action, but depression could work too.
He smiled at them. “So how are you guys doing tonight?”
“Thought I told you to shut up.”
