Ash didn’t get why I hadn’t healed completely. With the barrier between Ordnung and Annfwn down, magic flowed more freely, so he should have had plenty. Though, by the stories my scouts brought back, the magic acted more like spring squalls, hitting hard, then vanishing—leaving monsters and altered landscapes behind. Ash had brought Harlan back from the brink of death, and Queen Amelia, too, if the rumors were true. Which they had to be, because my people didn’t bring me false rumors. He should have been able to get me back to full health, but I felt more like that monster we’d encountered on the River Danu—out of place and twisted up.
Working out helped, though. Good, honest sweat always did. Let Kral get a good gander. Dafne had said he watched me when I wasn’t looking. Hopefully he’d get an eyeful of what I could do. I’d take first blood, all right, and the killing stroke, too. The fantasy energized me, and I imagined taking him apart, sliver by sliver, while he begged for mercy.
An apology . . . offending my honor . . . betraying my trust . . . acknowledgment that you agreed to be mine . . . will not stray again . . . persuaded to assist that itch of yours . . . if you ask nicely. Ha! I punctuated each odious phrase with a swipe of my blade. There his icy eyes slashed. Gone his smug smile. So much for those muscles, those abs, that damned cock he was so proud of.
Danu’s Dance allowed for plenty of creative embellishment, but I finished it with her salute, right hand holding one dagger pointed up over my heart, the other above my head pointed to the sky. Her noonday sun blazed nearly overhead, so I counted my timing perfect. Even if it did mean I’d been at it for hours. Now that I’d stopped, my muscles trembled with exhaustion. Probably I needed to eat.
A great seabird swooped over the deck, dropping beside me and shimmering into Zynda, who gave me an assessing look. “You look like you were the one to take a dip in the ocean.”
I sheathed the blades and wiped my face, then tunneled my fingers through my hair. Completely drenched, short as it was. “I had a workout, yeah.”
“And a loud argument with General Kral.”
“You heard that? I thought you went below.”
“Neither of you is exactly a soft speaker. Something you might keep in mind in taking on Dafne’s mission as ambassador.” As spy, she really meant. Her Majesty had tasked Dafne to penetrate the Dasnarian court under the guise of ambassador and determine if rumors that a deposed high priest of Glorianna, Kir, had thrown in with Illyria’s Temple of Deyrr. Personally, I didn’t care why the sanctimonious creep had vanished. And Illyria had been nicely burnt to ash. Still there was more afoot than curiosity. Ursula wasn’t one to squander people and resources on a whim. Me, she might send on a fool’s errand as punishment, but not Dafne, her most trusted adviser. All that added up to Dafne’s fact-finding errand being of critical strategic importance. A responsibility now firmly squirming in my lap. And where Dafne had been able to read and write in Dasnarian and possessed a diplomatic temperament—yours truly so did not. I was doomed to fail. Zynda was absolutely right, but that didn’t make me any less cranky about it.
“Because you know so much about diplomacy?” I grumbled.
The Tala woman raised her brows. “As a member of Salena’s powerful clan? Actually, yes. The Tala may not have as complicated a government as the Twelve or the Dasnarian Empire, but we have intrigue aplenty. Especially when you factor in all the animal natures, which add multiple levels of antagonism and alliance—sometimes all within the same person.”
“How many animal forms can you take, anyway?” I asked.
Predictably, she ducked answering, with her slow, easy smile. “Several.”
I’d seen her change into at least five—a tiger, the seabird, a dolphin, a hummingbird, and a horse—and I had reports of a seal and probably a snake. Apparently those who claimed relationship to Salena, former Queen of the Tala, later Uorsin’s wife, then mother of Ursula, Andromeda, and Amelia, could shape-shift into many forms. As opposed to other Tala, who could take on only one or two, sometimes none at all. The fact that Zynda boasted so many meant that she possessed an extraordinarily strong ability, something she tended to be cagey about. She could also work magic, though she wouldn’t come completely clean about that either.
Too bad I couldn’t seduce more out of her. Long limbed and languid, with the characteristic streaming black hair and intense blue eyes of the Tala, she was lovely indeed. The simple, filmy dresses she favored hinted at a nicely curved figure, and that sheen of magic . . . could very well make things interesting. Add that to the fact that she was the only person in leagues not forbidden to hook up with me . . .
“Sure you’re not interested in a little sex play?” I invited, only half teasing.
She shook her hair back, winding it into a rope that she coiled on the back of her head and fixed in place with a jeweled pin. “Knowing you’d be thinking of Kral all the while? No, thank you.”
“I wouldn’t,” I insisted. “I’d totally focus on you. You said you’ve never lain with another woman; why not give it a try? I promise to make it worth your while.”
“Jepp,” she said gently, laying a long-fingered hand on my arm. “I know you’re worried about Dafne. I am, too.”
I blew out a frustrated breath and let myself look at the receding horizon. Nahanau had long since faded from sight. “We shouldn’t have left her.”
“We had no choice.” Zynda followed the direction of my gaze. “She’s a smart woman. She’ll make it through.”
“Did you go check on her?”
Zynda shook her head absently. “Tempting, but I thought I’d better not. When we reach the barrier, I want to get back to Annfwn as fast as possible, to get word to the High Queen about Dafne’s predicament. I figure I’d better save my strength—just enough moving around to keep limber.”
I sighed for that. Smart thinking. And once she left, I’d be on my own. Not that I hadn’t been before in my life, but surrounded by the Dasnarians . . . Even the Vervaldr on the ship I’d thought I’d known well had reverted to their native language and customs. I was not looking forward to this.
A strange sound cut across the ubiquitous creaking and snapping of a ship in full sail running before the wind. Something . . . animal? Zynda heard it, too, lifting her head in a way that reminded me of a predator pricking its ears into a downward wind. Or prey.
I drew my blades, muscles singing from exhausted to hyper-alert. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. It sounded like a hunting cry. It registered like a wolf calling to the pack that prey had been sighted, but . . . avian?” Her eyes went deeper blue. “So much for conserving energy.”
Scanning the skies, I spotted nothing. Kral came skidding up, broadsword in one hand, a huge knife in the other that, on a smaller man or woman, would suffice as a sword in its own right. “Lookout spotted something strange ahead. Advice?”
We’d come a long way, at least, since the battle with the river monster, when I’d had to browbeat Kral into listening to us. He gave Zynda an expectant stare, pressing his lips over the evident desire to ask her to use magic—she hadn’t responded well to the last request. Tala were funny about doing things only on their own agenda, according to their own moral code. Their values were nearly as far from those of the other twelve kingdoms as the Dasnarians’ were, only in another direction.
“Strange how?” she asked crisply, all languid ease gone. The tiger looking out of her eyes.
“Climb to the crow’s nest with me and see. We can haul in sail to slow momentum, but we’d lose maneuverability. If we’re going to turn her, I’d rather know sooner than later.” Kral was already striding to the rigging, taking time to sheath the broadsword on his back, but keeping the knife out. He climbed rapidly, even one-handed, and Zynda and I exchanged a glance before she followed, climbing with agility.
With no intention of being left behind, I followed them on the rigging—after sheathing my blades. I’d rather climb two-handed and have to draw than risk missing a handhold. I h
adn’t scaled anything this high since the forest pines when I was a kid.
At the very top of the mast, the swaying motion of the ship became more pronounced. Charming. I’d thought Kral’s name for the thing a Dasnarian euphemism, but a couple of hobbled crows cawed a greeting, and I stepped up at Kral’s impatient gesture.
“Ma’am.” The lookout, a Dasnarian I didn’t know, handed me a scoping device, using an honorific Dafne had said applied only to women of high status. At least somebody had manners. He held it for me, showing me how to adjust the focus. What had looked like a black cloud on the horizon resolved into whirling pieces.
“Avian. I think you called it, Zynda. Hard to get perspective, but I’d guess smaller birds, no more than hand’s length, flock structure like swallows, moving in waves. Could be feeding on something? Definite sheen of magic. Colors are all wrong—unnatural greens. Brighter even than the Nahanaun birds. Can’t get much more detail from this distance. I don’t like this, though.”
Zynda snatched the glass from my hand, muttering something in Tala.
“Never seen anything like them, but you’re right, Jepp,” she said. “Definite feeding pattern. Looks like they’re taking something apart—I can make out blood and, oh, yes, bones. Stripping flesh at an amazing rate. Whatever it was, we can’t help it.”
“Curse helping it,” Kral growled. “We want to avoid the things.”
Zynda handed the long-distance glass back to the lookout with a smile that had him nearly choking, though she seemed not to notice, turning it on Kral. “Good luck with that—we’re headed straight for them.”
“No, we’re already taking evasive action.”
I squinted at the glinting cloud. Excellent long-sight had been one of the reasons I first became a scout. “They’re shifting to intercept. Looks like a couple of them are tracking us for the flock.” I pointed out the circling specks of green above, the source of that shrill cry I’d heard. Now that I had a fix on the creatures, I could pick them out against the searing blue more easily.
“That means intelligence,” Kral declared.
“Not the sentient kind, necessarily.” Zynda watched them, too, thoughtful. “Lots of pack animals display that behavior. Hmm. A hawk or eagle could take out the scouts.”
I put a hand on her arm. “No. Don’t engage them in bird form.”
“A bigger, more vicious bird form,” she argued, with raised brows.
“Don’t do it. What if they swarmed you? I’ve seen smaller birds in groups harass bigger ones. Corvids like these take on eagles.” The crows cawed and preened, as if pleased with my observation. “Why are these crows even here?”
Kral gave me an impatient look, then transferred his gaze to the shifting, glinting cloud, now decidedly less black and more green as we closed. “If we get fogged in, we release them and they fly to the nearest land. We follow. Good safety tactic.”
“Better get them under cover,” I advised, “if you want them to live. That goes for every living thing on this ship.”
He glared at me, disbelieving. “Hide?”
“Danu, Kral.” I rolled my eyes at him. “How do you propose to fight the thrice-damned things? They’ll swarm us like they did whatever that goddess-forsaken thing is out there. Surely there’s some Dasnarian saying on the wisdom of retreating to fight when the odds are better.”
His chin firmed and ice blue glinted coldly. “The odds are always in a Dasnarian’s favor.”
Danu save me. “You asked for advice; that’s mine. Zynda?”
She studied the birds overhead with pursed lips. “There’s more of them every passing moment. I suspect Jepp has the right of it. Perhaps if we hide and seal all openings, we might be able to wait them out.”
Kral blew out an explosive breath. “With no one manning the sails? A recipe for disaster.”
“Drop the sails,” I suggested.
“Oh, wonderful idea—we’ll be dead in the water while they pick us apart.” After snarling at me, he rounded on Zynda. “Can’t you do some kind of magic thing to wipe them out of the sky?”
Zynda went still. “This is their place and they have a right to live. I will not simply extinguish them on the chance they might harm me.”
He thrust an open hand at the flock. “They’re stripping flesh from bone. I’d say the threat is clear.”
“What if whatever it was attacked them? What if it’s their natural prey?” She lifted her chin. “I will not use magic in such a way.”
Kral ground his teeth. Happy to see him frustrated with someone besides me, I stayed out of the line of fire and kept an eye on the scout birds. There were indeed more all the time. It would be good to get somewhere less exposed, but I didn’t want to leave with the risk of Zynda taking it into her head to shift and go after them.
“You just offered to turn into an eagle and kill those,” he ground out. “What in hel is the difference?”
“That’s animal to animal. Using magic is . . . cheating.”
Kral turned his glare on me. “Can’t you reason with her?”
I gave him my sunniest smile. “With the Tala? We of the Twelve have been trying for generations. I’ve got nothing.” A bright green flash zoomed between us. Kral flinched and a line of blood appeared high on his cheekbone. Good reflexes, or he could have lost an eye. “Except for my previous advice that we get under cover. Let’s move!”
Zynda thankfully obeyed, clambering down the ropes again, much slower than going up. I kept close, ready to defend her. The lookout followed us, holding the jesses of the crows in one hand as he came down. If we survived this, I’d have to practice climbing one-handed. As it was, I had to pause to hold on, drawing a blade to slice at another bird that came too close. Way too close. “Faster!” I shouted to Zynda.
Kral remained above a moment longer, relaying orders in Dasnarian too fast for me to follow, and sails began flapping around us as the sailors hauled them in. The deck swarmed with activity, not unlike the shifting flock of carnivorous birds, Shipmaster Jens and Kral tag-teaming on coordinating the frenzy as the sails were roped into place. Shouts of command gave way to cries of pained insult as more of the green birds zoomed in.
“Get below,” I ordered Zynda. With a blade in each hand and my feet on a reasonably stable surface, I felt better. The Whirling Wind pattern might work nicely against the creatures.
“Not until you do,” she replied grimly. “I’ll shift and—”
“Conserving energy, recall?” I sang out, moving into the Whirling Wind pattern, creating a field of slicing steel between Zynda and the birds. “Guide me and I’ll cover us.”
Her fingers slipped into the back of my sword belt, pulling with firm insistence. She had a good feel for it, not interrupting my rhythm, but keeping up a consistent direction to lead me. The position also allowed her to more effectively crouch behind my shield of blades. Kral ran up, knocking one of the birds from the sky with his broadsword, much like the kids’ game of hitting balls with big sticks. Impressive speed on that man, despite his bulk. So sexy.
“What are you girls doing up here?” he shouted. “Get below, you idiots, before I chop you into pieces and throw you into the hold.”
There he had to go and ruin it every time. So not sexy.
“We’re there,” Zynda yelled. “On three, turn and dive. One, two”—solid thunk of her heel on the door—“three!”
Blindly trusting, I turned and dove, sliding through the just-opened door and skidding on the polished floor of the hall beyond. Zynda had a bleeding scratch on her forehead and her hair was wildly tousled but otherwise looked fine. Another thunk on the door and the Dasnarian manning it opened it fast, yanked his brother sailor through, and slammed it again. Two birds followed. I caught one with a midair swipe with my left blade and threw my right knife, pinning the other to the wooden wall.
Both Dasnarians gaped at me.
“Nice move,” one of them noted, with a salute that smacked ever so slightly of irony.
I pulled another blade, to be ready. Normally I wouldn’t throw away a knife, but I had plenty on me and in these close quarters I could be reasonably certain of getting them back. Zynda edged over, pried the dagger from the wall, and the limp body with it, studying it curiously.
“Dead?” I asked.
“Thoroughly. I’d like to study it.”
“Fine. Take it to our cabin. I’ll help here.”
“I can help here by—”
Thunk on the door. Open, grab, two more men in. More man flesh than air in the hall all of a sudden. You’d think the Dasnarians would build ships to match their bulk.
“Too crowded!” I called to Zynda. “Go!”
After that the men arrived thick and fast, some covered in the birds. I was hard-pressed to keep up with the scurvy green bastards. Most of the men had switched to shorter swords and big-bladed knives, but the small space hampered their powerful swings, and the nimble birds ducked them easily. Between razor-sharp beaks and freakishly strong talons, the birds were thrice-damned hard to kill once they dug into a man. If we encountered the vile beasts again, I’d don my leather gloves first. As it was, I could hardly skewer the birds in place without further injuring the man they clung to, which meant pulling the creatures from their gnawing frenzy to get enough room to cut their gluttonous throats. My hands were sliced to a bleeding mess.
Kral, of course, was the last man through the door. Him and his damn honor. He’d probably be one of those to go down with the ship if it came to that. Good to remember as a potential method of assassination if he pissed me off once too often.
He came through so covered in the birds and bleeding wounds that it seemed murder might not be necessary. Methodically, I wrested the birds from his flesh, pinning them with a boot when I could and cutting off their heads. Several of the men had observed my technique and emulated it. These Dasnarians—always with the big, bold moves first, instead of finesse. Finally we got the last bird dead and rolled Kral onto his back. His icy blue eyes glared at me from a mask of bright blood. “I’m going to kill your Tala friend,” he snarled. “As soon as I can stand.”
The Edge of the Blade Page 3
