by Tiana Warner
I stared at its worn grips and frayed sinew. “But—”
“I’ll grab another one. No one will notice. It’s fine.”
She stuffed it beneath my pillow. I smiled grimly and opened my arms. “Thanks.”
She leaned forwards and we hugged each other for a long time.
“There’s something you need to know,” I said seriously. “We aren’t done. If we’re attacked again, you need to let me and Dani help—”
Something smashed against the hull, making us both jump.
We looked at each other. The sound came again, like someone was bashing a stone into the hull. Above deck, Sage let out a bloodcurdling scream.
Annith cursed and leapt to her feet.
“Here,” I yelled, pulling the crossbow from under my pillow. I thrust it at her, but she didn’t take it.
“You might need it,” she said, and hurtled up the stairs, leaving me screaming after her.
“You need to take it! Please!”
I couldn’t forget what’d happened to me when I ran up the stairs without a crossbow. A second without a weapon aboard this ship could be suicide.
“At least let me out to fight,” I shouted.
“You’ll be safer locked behind iron!”
At the top of the stairs, the door slammed.
“Annith!”
But she didn’t come back. She left me, panicked, in the dead-silent hull.
The ship shuddered and I grabbed my bed. Dani fell sideways on her cot but didn’t stir.
The number of mermaids crashing above and around me was inconceivable. The ship shuddered and rocked, and so many screams filled the air it was like the roar of an enormous crowd.
Annith, Blacktail, Holly, Fern, Sage, Texas, Blondie, and Nora.
Only eight girls remained above deck to battle. And that number of mermaids swarming us could only mean one thing: this was Adaro’s last, desperate attempt to slaughter the Massacre warriors of Eriana Kwai.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Brig to Brine
Listening to the battle above my head was worse than being in the heart of it. On all sides, I heard only the roaring mob and the thundering hailstorm of attackers. Twice, I swore I heard the gurgling sound of someone being impaled.
I was at the brig door, my arm through the bars and an iron bolt in my hand. I couldn’t bear to sit still while my crewmates screamed above me, so I’d limped across the floor to pick at the lock with the end of the bolt. I’d never picked a lock before, but I was sure I could figure it out. Tanuu used to talk about pushing the pins on the inside.
Minutes passed. Valuable time, wasted. Frustration pulled at my nerves for every second I spent stuck behind the bars, unable to help my crew fight. Only eight girls were up there, facing who-knew-how-many mermaids.
The bolt was too thick. I hurled it at my bed; it bounced off the side and splashed onto the floor. I needed something thinner. I ran my hands over my hips where my tool belt should have been, feeling naked without it.
Dani was still lying unconscious on her bed. That blow dart would be under her pillow.
Balancing myself with the iron bars, I limped over. The Ravendust meant she wouldn’t waken, but I still held my breath and took extra care as I lifted her pillow. I couldn’t hear her shallow breathing over the clamour around me, though her ribcage rose and fell beneath her bloodstained coat. She’d slumped over and I thankfully couldn’t see her face.
The blow dart lay against the sheets like an innocent toy. I turned it upright, shaking its contents into my hand. A needle-like piece of calcified seaweed slid out. The tip was sharp enough to break skin at the lightest touch.
Something heavy smashed into the deck above my head. I started and looked up. Somebody screamed, but I couldn’t tell who it was.
With the calcified seaweed clutched in my fist, I limped back to the brig door. I jammed it inside the lock. The seaweed gave me such precision, I poked around for mere seconds when –
Pop.
I froze. I’d done it. That was the sound of the lock opening; I was sure of it.
But then the door to the hull crashed open, and the sound of the battle flooded down the stairs. Holly was yelling. The thumping sound that came next could only mean one thing.
I abandoned the piece of seaweed in the lock and dove for my bed, where my crossbow lay on the pillow. I tipped off-balance as I seized it and landed on the floor with a splash. The greasy puddle did nothing to soften the impact.
A spear punctured the back wall. I cranked the lever and my stomach flopped. I’d lost the bolt. I’d thrown my only one. Our remaining ammo—and I only saw one unopened barrel left—was on the other side of the iron bars.
I glanced to the opposite end of the brig, where Dani lay unconscious. Without thinking about it, I swiped the blanket from my cot and lunged for her. I threw it over her body, hiding her from view, just as a mermaid propelled herself down the stairs without restraint.
The mermaid hit the bottom and straightened up with alarming speed. One webbed hand clenched a fistful of spears the length of my arm. A seaweed bandana encircled her head, holding her dark brown hair away from her blazing eyes. Her glare locked on me as I scrambled backwards on my hands. After a moment of apparent surprise, her lips curled back in a snarl.
I scanned the floor around my bed frantically. Where did the bolt land? I couldn’t see beneath the layer of grimy water.
The mermaid was at the brig door, then. She studied each bar, hunting for a way past the iron.
Not taking my eyes off the demon’s webbed hands, I wrapped my fist around a leg of my bed and threw it on its side like a shield between us. My pillow fell into the water and cold swells splashed over my lap.
Something thundered on the stairs again. Screams and roars and whizzing bolts flooded through the open door. I looked up to see more demons joining us. The one with the bandana glanced over her shoulder and cackled at the others. When they saw me, they sneered. They studied the brig, trying to find a way in.
Cursing, I ducked down and groped blindly for my only bolt. You can still take them, I thought. But I didn’t know how I’d be able to kill several demons with one bolt.
Why hadn’t they thrown something through the bars? They all had weapons. I couldn’t believe their stupidity.
The mermaids stopped cackling. I snapped my head up. They were studying the lock I’d picked. One of them—a head shorter than the rest and probably no older than thirteen—pointed at it. They considered it, purring to each other.
Don’t push on it, I thought desperately. My hands still swept frantically through the puddle.
The mermaid with the bandana curled her lips back, red eyes meeting mine. She gently leaned one of her long spears against the lock.
The door swung open.
Iron. Just find iron. Anything to throw at them.
Abandoning the hunt for my bolt, I raised my crossbow and smashed it down on one of the bed legs. A screw popped. I put my feet on the underside of the bed and wrenched the leg, biting my tongue at the pain in my thigh. The iron leg snapped off and my bed scooted forwards through the water.
I jammed the bed leg into my crossbow where the bolt should go. It fit awkwardly, but already the mermaid with the bandana entered the brig. Rolling onto my knees, I flung the bow upwards with my finger on the trigger.
The mermaid slammed her hands against the mattress, knocking the bed into me. I toppled backwards and hit the floor, but I kept my crossbow aimed at her torso and fired. The bed leg struck her in the stomach and sent her flying. She spluttered, her flesh sizzling as she hit the bars of the brig behind her.
I crawled to the other side of the bed and smashed a second leg, just as a hand wrapped around my hair and jerked my head sideways. My scream echoed through the hull. I swiped the crossbow over my head to dislodge the mermaid’s grip.
She let go before it made contact, and I heaved myself backwards through the water. Something hard knocked against my wrist. My f
ingers closed over it. The bolt. I rolled over and jammed it into my crossbow.
The mermaid came at me again and I fired. The bolt pierced her heart, killing her instantly. But another mermaid was already entering the brig behind her. She swung a piece of splintered wood, knocking my bed aside.
Drenched and grimy, I swiped my crossbow wildly in front of me, keeping her at bay as I scrambled to my feet. I needed to get that other bed leg.
The mermaid stabbed the wood splinter at my legs and I leapt back against the wall, grunting at the pain. Behind her, another demon gripped a spear, waiting.
Something was wrong. Something wasn’t right in the way these mermaids fought. The mermaid slashed her weapon downwards to disarm me rather than thrusting it forwards to kill me. The wood splinter hit my wrist and I gasped, but held tight to the crossbow.
The way the light flickered across the grimy water caught my eye; I glanced up to the burnt-down candle by my head.
I spun and brought the end of my crossbow down, smashing the iron fixture loose from the wall. It cracked away and I wrenched it off, a piece of wood still nailed to it.
The mermaid struck me across the knees with her spear. Pain shot up my legs and I hit the ground, the sconce still clutched in my fist. I launched it at her head. She screeched and ducked, but not before the iron swiped her across the cheek.
Using the chance, I dove to my overturned bed, grabbed the loosened leg, and stuffed it against the crossbow’s sinew, my finger already pulling at the trigger. A rock hit me in the stomach and I fell back, winded. The sinew snapped and the bed leg buried itself in the ceiling.
I stared numbly at the end of my broken weapon. Three demons closed in on me, and more waited outside the brig, watching us tensely. How many were there?
The mermaid with the wood splinter smashed my wrist again, and this time my crossbow hit the wall and splashed to the floor. Gasping for breath, I lunged for it. My fingers closed around the stock just as the demon tried to shove it away with her spear. She hissed and jumped back, reacting before I could swing it at her.
There were too many of them. They seemed to fill the hull—I counted six demons, all with harpoons and spears and blow darts. One held her burned cheek where I’d swiped it. Two more lay dead.
My heart seemed to grind to a halt as I realised my head could easily be skewered by any one of these demons before my next breath.
But it wasn’t. They didn’t kill me. The sudden thought occurred to me that they wanted to capture me alive.
Wheezing, I glanced around frantically for an escape. They wouldn’t have me. Maybe they wanted me alive so they could torture me.
I kept my crossbow wielded, challenging them to come closer. They hissed, but held their distance. Dani still lay opposite me, unnoticed under my blanket. My eyes darted over the walls and landed on the window out of which I’d gazed all night. It was small, but the menu aboard the Bloodhound hadn’t exactly helped me keep weight on. Beyond it, the sea thrashed, perilous as ever.
I leapt to my feet and slammed the end of my crossbow into the window. The glass shattered dully, the sound masked by the battle around us.
The mermaids shrieked. Cold fingers wrapped around my arm. I roared and swung my crossbow, and the fingers fell away.
I reached for the windowsill but realised I wouldn’t get through as long as I was holding my crossbow. So I turned and hurled it at the mermaids. They jumped back, screeching. I thought maybe the iron hit one of them but I didn’t pause to watch. I locked my fingers on the sill, put my foot on my bed, and pushed myself up.
My legs swung wildly as I squeezed through the tiny hole. I pushed my feet against the wall, scrambling upwards. Shards of glass sliced into my skin—but the ocean spray hit my face, and the fresh sea air felt blissful in my lungs, and the sensation masked all the pain in my body.
Cold, hard arms wrapped around my knees and I cried out, refusing to let go of the ledge. I pulled and kicked, using the demon’s bony shoulder to push myself further through the hole. I ignored how the glass opened long tears in my shirt, how it dragged clean, stinging cuts all the way down my arms. My shoulders were almost through. I could fit, if I just . . .
I stomped against her shoulder again, pushing my ribcage past the threshold. Waves hammered against the ship, drenching my face and hair, and I welcomed them.
But more hands wrapped around my legs. They pulled me back. I clawed at the outside of the ship, screaming and kicking wildly. My foot smashed into something soft, but not one hand let go.
They pulled me away from the sounds of battle above deck. I slipped backwards through the window. Still, I screamed and clawed at the rough, broken hull of the Bloodhound. My fingers locked into any grooves I could find, but my strength was nothing next to the demons.
Glass sliced my arms open, stinging like venom. And then I was back in the hull, smelling tar and blood and burnt flesh, and my nails were all that held me to the ledge. I screamed for help, not even sure who I was screaming to.
My fingers gave way and I fell hard on my hands. My neck snapped back as I hit the floor, top-heavy with the mermaids still holding my ankles. The greasy water engulfed my face and I instinctively thrashed around to right myself.
My feet came down a moment later. I rolled over and sat up, gasping.
I couldn’t see; the murky water had gotten in my eyes. Blurry shapes moved in front of me, and I spluttered as I tried to stand. Something pushed me back down. The shape nearest to me became clearer. The mermaid I’d scorched on the cheek held her spear over my chest, the tip pushed against my soaking wet shirt.
Again they could run me through with a dozen weapons before I blinked. But again, they didn’t. They held their weapons steady.
Then a scream filled the hull that made the blood leave my face in a cold, dizzying rush.
“Meela!”
Lysi’s bloodcurdling cry seemed to come from all directions—through the broken window, or from somewhere above deck—and the mermaids surrounding me erupted in a chorus of cackling sounds.
I expected them to be alarmed. I expected—hoped, maybe—they’d want to go help their comrade.
They sneered at me.
“What are you doing to her?” I yelled, my voice high with panic.
The mermaids stopped cackling, and I caught a glimmer of satisfaction behind their blazing eyes.
The tiny mermaid opened her mouth, revealing long, predatory teeth. “You . . . want to see her.”
Her accent was heavy and her speech broken, but I understood what she said.
“You speak Eriana?” I said, breathing hard. “Where’s Lysi?”
“Adaro,” she said, her voice a purr.
“Adaro? He’s here?”
She stared at me, her expression unreadable.
“You came here to take me to him,” I said, suddenly understanding why they wouldn’t kill me.
The small mermaid sneered, then made a high sound to the others before turning back to the stairs.
They swarmed me, and I let them. A pair of icy arms wrapped around my ankles, and another around my arms.
If Adaro was here I had to try and negotiate peace, or this attack was going to leave the Bloodhound at the bottom of the ocean.
We left Dani lying undiscovered, untouched, on her bed.
An excruciating pain surged back to my attention as the demons carried me up the stairs. I must have ripped the stitches in my leg.
We burst from the hull and into a buzzing swarm. I expected to see a battle still raging, but all I saw were demons.
Where was my crew? I strained to see through the horde surrounding me. Were they dead? Had they been pulled into the water? I wanted to scream to them, but I was too dumbstruck to make any noise.
Dark clouds swirled over our heads, the cold wind cutting into my bones. The metallic smell of blood penetrated my nose, nauseating me as it mixed with seawater and fish.
Lysi was silent, though her scream still resonated. What were
they doing to her?
Someone shouted not far from us, and the mermaid holding my arms ducked to avoid a flying bolt.
My surrounding guards screeched, turning to face their attacker.
Fern’s hysterical voice cut through the noise of the hissing mermaids. “Don’t shoot! Meela’s in there!”
“Fern!” I shouted, finding my voice.
My view of the deck opened up, and the sight brought a cry to my lips.
Texas, Holly, and Fern had backed into the opposite stairwell, their faces bloody, crossbows aimed to block the demons from coming any further. They panted hard, and when they caught my eye, I saw mixed terror and bewilderment.
Two human bodies lay in front of them, sprawled among a sheet of dead mermaids.
“No!” I thrashed against the mermaids holding me, until something rock-hard smashed into my skull.
“Be still,” said the small mermaid, baring her jagged teeth.
I blinked away dizziness as they carried me to the railing, tearing me further away from my crew. Whose bodies were those? Where was Annith?
From the water below, Lysi screamed. I heard a frenzy of splashing.
“Meela! I tried to stop—”
Her voice was interrupted by gurgling: someone had pushed her underwater.
I tried to squirm away from the mermaids’ slimy grips, but the small one pressed a hand against my throat until I stopped moving.
Lysi’s voice came again. “They want to bring you to Adaro and—let go of me!—he wants to talk to you—”
I jerked my head away from the mermaid’s grip. “Why?”
Around me, the fighting had stopped, leaving the deck in unnerving silence. A low growling sound came from the mermaids behind us. They stayed cautiously back from the girls in the stairwell.
“It’s my f—” Again, the water swallowed her words.
“Because of us?” I yelled, but she didn’t answer.
The reality of the battle stung my eyes as I took in the army around me, remembering what Lysi had said about Adaro pulling trainees early. There were dozens of mermaids like the ones we’d always fought, but also young ones, tiny ones whose skin had barely transformed and whose teeth could barely snarl. Children. Many of them were seared from the iron-flecked ship they’d been ordered to destroy.
