“Look for yourself,” Tyranny answered. “It is beyond your imagination. I doubt we can escape it.”
Shailiha quickly brought the spyglass to one eye, then twisted its cylinders to bring the threat into better focus. When she saw the danger her jaw dropped.
About one league away, a deadly wall of water had risen to more than two hundred meters and was heading directly toward the fleet. Just as the two warriors from Traax’s patrol had said, the wave stretched to the north and south for as far as the eye could see-even with the aid of the spyglass. The swarming beings that the returning warriors had also warned of were accompanying it.
The warrior manning theTammerland ’s forwardmost crow’s nest had seen the threats and had quickly rung the warning bell. But because cloud cover sometimes blocked the moonlight, he had not seen them soon enough to do the fleet much good. Then Axel and Valgard had unexpectedly crashed to the ship’s deck. They had been nearly dead from exhaustion.
Although the warriors had returned ahead of the wave, they had lost much of their lead to its amazing speed. After hearing their incredible tale, Tyranny knew that there was only one way to survive. The mystic aboard each vessel must force her ship to climb to her utmost while reversing course. Tyranny had immediately issued the orders, then commanded the Minions to their action stations.
Still gasping for breath, Axel had finished his bizarre report with more bad news. Traax and his remaining warriors were surely dead, he said. There could have been no other outcome.
Shailiha absently handed the glass to Scars. After looking for a moment, he used one meaty hand to angrily collapse the spyglass’s cylinders. Shaking his head, he gave his captain a grim look.
“We won’t escape it!” he shouted. “We weren’t given enough warning! Even at our current rate of climb the wave will strike us! You were also right to reverse course, but I fear that our actions won’t be enough!”
Scars turned to look at the other Black Ships as they struggled to match theTammerland ’s steep climb. He quickly pointed at them.
“Our sister ships are faring even worse!” he shouted. “The acolytes aboard them don’t have Jessamay’s strength!”
Everyone turned to look at the five struggling warships. Flying behind and below theTammerland, their bows were raised at distinctively lesser angles, hampering their climbs.
As she looked, Shailiha’s heart sank. She knew that the acolytes were doing all they could. But if Scars believed that theTammerland would be engulfed by the oncoming wave, the others didn’t stand a chance.
“Where are Wigg and Faegan?” Tyranny shouted. “We need them!”
No sooner had the privateer asked the question than the two wizards exited the stern stairway. Holding on to the railing, they struggled their way toward the others.
“What is going on?” Wigg shouted.
Tyranny pointed astern. By this time the huge wave and its accompanying creatures could be seen with the naked eye. Just then a patch of magenta moonlight caught the wave, illuminating its terrifying splendor. It would be on them in moments. As everyone watched, Serena’s flying creatures started diving down to start their attack.
“I beg the Afterlife,” Wigg breathed.
“What do we do?” Tyranny demanded. “Can you stop it, or turn it away somehow?”
Wigg shook his head. “Its power is beyond our gifts!” he answered. “Our only chance is to outrun it!”
“What purpose do the flying creatures serve?” Shailiha shouted. “Surely the wave is enough to destroy us all!”
Faegan looked up at Shailiha from his wooden chair. It was plain to see that he was as thunderstruck as Wigg.
“Those monsters have but one purpose!” he shouted. “They will attack in force to overwhelm the Minions! If they kill the mystic aboard each ship then the vessels will crash back to the sea, their fates a certainty when the wave rushes over them! That is why they are diving well ahead of it! Order every warrior into the air at once! They have to meet that swarm head-on and somehow keep those beasts from breaking though!”
Shailiha immediately barked out some orders. At once warriors by the thousands left theTammerland ’s decks to fly toward the advancing swarm. More soared downward to relay the princess’s orders to the other ships. Soon the night sky filled with their beating wings, and thousands of dreggan blades flashed menacingly in the moonlight. Wigg quickly called three more warriors forward.
“Take me, Faegan, and Adrian to three of the other ships!” he ordered them.
“What are you doing?” Tyranny demanded. “We need you here!”
“Not as badly as they do!” Wigg countered. “Jessamay must continue to climb theTammerland! But the weaker acolytes need us! It is the only way! The two remaining sisters that we cannot help will just have to do the best they can!”
Scars, Tyranny, and Shailiha watched the warriors take the three mystics in their arms. The Minions launched into the air and disappeared into the darkness over the stern rail.
Shailiha turned to look at Jessamay. The sorceress was near exhaustion, her legs shaking as she tried to keep theTammerland climbing ever higher. Just then Shailiha heard a terrible noise and turned to look.
As the wave chasing them drew ever nearer, the Minion hordes and the swarming Vagaries creatures clashed head-on.
LOOKING WEST, TRAAX COULD BARELY SEE THE GIANT WAVEas it approached the fleet. Straining with everything he had, he tried to fly faster. But blood loss from his wounded arm and carrying Aldaeous had taken their toll. He struggled higher, hoping to find a tailwind, but there wasn’t one.
He watched proudly as his warriors soared from the Black Ships’ decks to counter Serena’s deadly swarm. Like his friend Yuri and the other warriors who had died during the last battle, they would not understand about the creature’s deadly tails until it was too late. Desperate with frustration and anger, he screamed out a warning. But from so far away it of course did no good. Exhausted, he looked down at his unconscious friend.
Wondering if Aldaeous was dead, Traax hovered for a moment. Supporting Aldaeous as best he could with one arm, he felt for a pulse. There was none.
He remained like that for some time, wondering what to do. Finally he bid Aldaeous farewell and let go of the body. Tumbling end over end, it splashed into the dark sea.
Just then he heard a mighty crashing sound. Looking west, he saw Minion warriors by the thousands flying headlong into Serena’s deadly swarm. Stretching his wings farther, he did his best to again head for the fleet. Then he noticed something else, and his heart fell.
The Black Ships were climbing fast, thereby becoming even more difficult for him to catch. Worse, Tyranny had wisely ordered that the fleet turn west, trying to buy time in their escape from the monstrous wave.
Good, he thought. Perhaps they’ll survive. But by doing so, they have sealed my fate.
Straining with his last bit of energy, Traax tried to make up the growing distance between him and the fleet. But with each beat of his wings, the ships were pulling away even faster.
He suddenly felt something warm and wet against his skin. Looking over, he saw that his tourniquet had loosened and that fresh blood was streaming down his wounded arm. Exhausted as he was, there was no telling how long he had been bleeding. Reaching over with his right arm, he cinched the tourniquet tighter.
Looking west again, by this time he could barely see the fleet. Before starting out once more he looked down at Duvessa’s betrothal pin to find it splattered with blood. He flew on.
Soon his eyes grew heavy, and he knew it was the end. He struggled as best he could to stay in the air, but each wing beat had become tortured, useless.
My wings are so heavy, he thought. If only I could rest.
Then the blood loss finally overcame him.
His mind and body finally at the breaking point, Traax tumbled into the sea.
RAISING HER DREGGAN, DUVESSA STRUCK ANOTHER OF THEawful things from the air. After summoning her female warriors t
o the top deck of theCavalon, she had proudly led them against the swarming mass of creatures. From all around her came the sound of warriors screaming, and the beasts’ manic victory cries. The killing was happening at such a frantic pace that blood flew through the air almost in torrents.
Suddenly she saw one of the things snap its tail and wrap it around the waist of one of her warrior-healers. The warrior screamed wildly in pain. Flying to her, Duvessa raised her dreggan, and brought it down viciously.
Even so, the beast’s sinewy tail refused to sever. Again and again she cut into it until its victim was freed. She then plunged the dreggan’s tip into the beast’s right eye. Black blood spurted from the eyeball to splatter against her body armor. Looking down, she saw that it had covered Traax’s betrothal pin.
Suddenly a different emotion stabbed her heart, and she knew. It was often said that something in the Minion soul told each one when his or her mate was dying. Some claimed that it was a secret mechanism of the craft, purposely added to the spell Failee had used to create them. Others insisted that it was the Minions’ amazing sense of duty, binding each warrior to the other.
No matter the reason, Duvessa knew that Traax was failing, and she could do nothing about it. As tears ran freely from her eyes she harshly collected herself. Screaming, she viciously struck another of the terrible things down, hoping that it had been the one that had attacked her betrothed.
Her chest heaving, she swiveled in the air. Terrible carnage reigned for leagues in every direction. The dark night sky made it impossible to see whether the Minions were keeping the swarm from reaching the Black Ships.
Peering through the dark, she tried to see the fleet but couldn’t. Deciding that she must know the ships’ fates, she avoided two sidelong skirmishes and flew quickly upward, straight through the melee. Another beast lunged at her; she deftly avoided it. As she flew higher, another tried wrapping its tail around her leg but missed. Ignoring it, she kept going higher.
Finally she broke free of the fight. Here the sky was almost windless. Soaring westward over the raging battle, she finally reached its leading edge. She stopped to hover and looked down.
To the west, the six Black Ships were still struggling skyward. For some reason theTammerland, theFlorian, theCavalon, and theEphyra were well ahead of the others in their rush to avoid the giant wave. Aghast, Duvessa could only watch as the wave approached the sterns of the two slower ships.
It took theMalvina first, its relentless crest crashing down atop her. The ship’s bow wildly surfaced; then she exploded from the water to completely turn over in midair. Masts snapped like toothpicks, and all the ship’s superstructures were instantly wiped clean from her decks like leaves in a stiff breeze. Then the once-majestic ship broke cleanly in half and the wave engulfed her for the second and final time. Like nothing had happened, the terrible surge kept rushing forward, threatening another Black Ship.
TheIllendium was next. The wave’s incredible power slammed into the ship’s aft deck, tilting her vertical. Then the wave slammed flat against her entire topside and tore her apart. With a tortured groan theIllendium ’s remains were tossed about like pieces of some child’s broken toy. Then the wave’s crest cascaded over them, taking them and everyone aboard under. From her vantage point high in the sky, all Duvessa could do was watch.
As the wave crashed ever onward, Duvessa screamed with despair. Within moments it would reach theTammerland.
CHAPTER XLIX
AS THEIR MINION LITTER SOARED HIGH OVER TAMMERLAND, Tristan grinned at Rafe’s expense. Serves him right, he thought, after the way he kept me standing in the Sippora River that night.
Tristan believed Rafe to be an immensely brave man. But it was becoming clear that the highlander’s idea of travel was sitting atop a horse or a wagon-not flying through the sky in some contraption carried by Tristan’s bizarre Minions. As he fidgeted nervously in his seat, Rafe grasped the litter’s sides so firmly that his knuckles had gone white.
Ox and Abbey had also come along. Tristan smirked as he heard Ox occasionally bark out seemingly unnecessary orders to the litter bearers. At first Tristan couldn’t decide who the gigantic warrior was trying to impress-him or Rafe. Finally deciding that it was probably a little bit of both, he leaned back and watched the scenery go by.
The prince had several reasons for visiting the highlander camp. He wanted to be sure that everyone had arrived safely, and that Clan Kilbourne elders were content with where Tristan had asked them to stop. He also wanted to order the clan horsemen to the palace, so that they and the Minions could become acquainted with each other’s customs and tactics.
Then there was the need to be sure that the clan was properly supplied with food and other goods. Tristan knew the highlanders’ ways, and he wanted to stem as much thieving as possible. To that end, his reply to the elders through Hector had suggested that they make camp on the northern bank of the Sippora River. The river would grant them all the freshwater they might need, yet also separate them from the many temptations the capital city would present. Should added food and supplies be needed, he had every intention of ordering the Minions to deliver it.
Tristan looked over at Ox. From the first moment he had met Rafe, Ox had been highly skeptical and perhaps more than a bit gruff. He has been listening to Abbey, Tristan surmised. The same sense of distrust had possessed Ox when he had first met Scars, but later the two had become fast friends. Tristan hoped that Ox would also accept Rafe, but he wasn’t betting that their friendship would bloom overnight.
Abbey was no happier to be on this journey than Ox. Tristan also had his motives regarding the herbmistress. If there was a key to Wigg’s heart, it was she. If he could convince Abbey that his bargain with the clan was a good idea, she might help temper Wigg’s protests. Either way, Tristan reasoned, he had nothing to lose by bringing her along. Leaning forward, he decided to have some fun by testing the chilly waters between Ox and Rafe.
“You know,” he said to Ox as he thoughtfully rubbed his chin, “if the clan runs low on food I might have to order you and some other warriors to keep them supplied.”
Ox gave Tristan a respectful look, then glared angrily at Rafe. “IfJin’Sai want Ox to do, Ox will do,” he answered. “But if highlanders go hungry, Ox no care. Why they not just steal food? Wigg say they steal everything anyway.”
Looking away, Abbey snorted out a laugh. Despite his uneasiness, Rafe laughed too. He gave Ox a wry look.
“I wouldn’t worry if I were you,” Rafe said. “You Minions are so fearsome that I wouldn’tdare try stealing anything from you.”
Unsure of whether Rafe was being sarcastic, Ox screwed up his face. “Good,” Ox finally said. “It best you remember that.”
Suddenly the litter banked sharply right. Gripping the litter’s side even harder, Rafe started to appear a little green.
“I no worry if I be you,” Ox said, doing his best to mimic Rafe’s earlier comment. “While Abbey andJin’Sai aboard, warriors nodare drop you!”
Beaming at his own cleverness, he smiled, then folded his arms across his barrel chest. Tristan and Abbey couldn’t help but to laugh. Trying to quell his uneasy stomach, Rafe scowled back grumpily. So much for diplomacy, Tristan thought.
After a time Tristan saw the camp come into view, its colorful wagons dotting the lush fields on the Sippora’s northern bank. He was relieved to see that the clan elders had taken his advice.
“Put us down in the camp’s center,” he ordered Ox. After nodding back, Ox barked out some orders and the litter started downward.
As the passengers disembarked, hundreds of highlanders walked toward them. Looking around warily, Ox stayed close to Tristan. The prince thought about telling him that it wasn’t needed, then decided to let the giant warrior persist in his overly protective ways. Tristan cast his eyes around the growing crowd.
He did not see Yasmin, but something told him that she was somewhere near, and that her seductive eyes were on him. He pursed his
lips as he partly came to regret bringing Abbey along. Perhaps it was just as well that Yasmin hadn’t greeted him, for he didn’t need her included in Abbey’s report to Wigg. Not to mention what kind of bawdy outbursts Rafe might utter, should he see them together again!
He saw Balthazar and Gunther approach. Gunther was not smiling, leading Tristan to wonder if he ever did. But the look on the elder’s face seemed to carry more respect for Tristan than before. Apparently Tristan’s unmasking of Arwydd had done much to raise his esteem. The prince reached out and shook Gunther’s hand.
“Is everyone safe and well?” he asked.
“Yes, Jin’Sai, ” Gunther answered. “And you?”
Tristan nodded, then introduced Abbey and Ox. When Gunther extended his hand to the herbmistress, Abbey acted like she was being forced to touch a snake. Tristan cleared his throat and gave her a harsh look. Finally she shook the clan elder’s hand.
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Abbey said tentatively.
“And you,” Gunther answered. He skeptically raised an eyebrow, reminding Tristan of Wigg.
“I sense that you have your doubts about my clan’s arrangement with your prince,” he added. “Perhaps we can change your mind during your visit. Anyway, rest easy. Our agreement is not permanent.”
Trying to be a bit more cordial, Abbey forced a smile. “I meant no disrespect,” she said apologetically.
Tristan looked over at Balthazar. His fists on either hip, the huge highlander was smiling at Abbey’s expense. His shoulder was still wrapped in Yasmin’s expertly wound bandages.
“And you, Balthazar?” Tristan asked. “How is your wound?”
“Better,” Balthazar answered. “Yasmin has a healing touch. But you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Laughing, he slapped Tristan on the back.
“What does he mean?” Abbey asked. “Who’s Yasmin?”
“A highlander healer,” Tristan answered simply. “She dressed my wound.” He looked at Gunther again.
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