But it came again.
Sadie suddenly stood alert, and I knew something was wrong.
I heard the whistling before it struck. A sharp sound sliced through the air beside my ear. The right shoulder of Carmine's coat split open like it'd been torn. Something long and thin collided with the metal mast, spraying out in a sunburst on impact.
Dylan cursed, ducking and grabbing his neck. “Aughh! Something hit me!”
Rune walked up to the mast where Dylan had been standing. He ran a hand down the smooth surface. “There's a small dent here. You're lucky it didn't get you between the eyes, Axton.”
“Small comfort,” the young lord growled.
Rune sniffed his fingers. “Water.”
I was rattled. Did the ship malfunction and shoot us? The engines were off. It was impossible. “What was that?”
Carmine's shoulder began to bleed. She should have clasped a hand over the wound, or acknowledged the injury, but her attention was elsewhere.
The deep blue ocean waters were calm and vast, but imperfect. A dark shape obscured a small portion of the horizon. Whatever it was, it was getting closer. Fast.
“Salvagemen,” Carmine hissed. “We need to get out of here. Now!”
Chapter 13: Sharp Water
“What in the world is a salvageman?” The wind kicked up, tugging on the salty strands of my long ponytail. My bunched skirt fluttered against my legs, but the thick black stockings I wore protected me from the chill.
In the mere minutes that we'd spotted the other vessel, it had already drawn near enough for me to clearly see its shape and structure. It was a blocky, triple-deck ship, made of wood and rusted metal. Unlike our vessel, and the others in the Prince's navy, this boat didn't hover. Water sprayed behind it like a fan. Even with its two square sails filled with wind, the vessel was cutting through the water much quicker than it should have been.
“Raiders for the illegal markets. They probably saw the smoke and think we're stranded. They'll strip us for parts if we don't get off the water.” Carmine didn't wait another second, and took off for the bridge at a dead run.
“Wait, you're bleeding!” Kyle called after her.
“I know,” she said over her shoulder. “Don't let them board!” The cabin door slammed behind her.
“Kyle, go with her,” I told him. “I don't want you getting hit. Sadie, stay with me.”
The Lurcher remained at my side, bobbing her head to sniff the wind.
I guess she knows her name.
“Okay,” Kyle said reluctantly. For all I knew, he believed that every situation brought him closer to his frightening vision. To me, it was simple logic: protect the person who can heal your wounds.
“How'd they shoot us from so far away?” I asked, ready for anything.
“Precision instruments,” Rune explained, walking to the railing of the ship. He sure didn't seem worried. “There are salvagemen on both sides of this war, preying on injured ships. Prince Raserion has tried to rid us of them, but it's impossible. Like fleas on a dog, the greedy always come back in search of easy profit.”
“Isn't this just grand?” Dylan complained, ducking behind the curving staircase that led to the upper deck. “Only a few hours away from home, we've already been attacked by a renegade Lurcher and a ship full of salvagemen.”
The salvagemen were close enough for me to see movement on their top deck. “They're gaining on us!”
“Surprised?” Dylan asked in droll humor. “Shouldn't be too difficult, considering we aren't moving.”
“Cover!” Rune shouted, dropping to his knees. The lower, solid half of the railing protected him.
Dylan tucked behind the staircase. I clattered clumsily to the ground, half crawling, half scrambling to follow Rune's example.
When the barrage of liquid needles struck the mid-deck, Sadie shifted a fraction to avoid the attack. She swung her head over her shoulder as the ammunition hit hard enough to sound like metal hitting metal.
“Does anyone have goggles?” Rune asked.
“Ugh,” I groaned, silently berating myself. Goggles were equipped with night-vision and binocular zooming. I always tried to keep a pair on me, but this time I'd forgotten. I wouldn't make the same mistake again. “Dylan?”
“Yeah,” he answered with triumph. “Right breast pocket, as always. Goggles: the best tactical companion for soldiers and voyeuristic lechers alike.”
With my back to the covered rail, I was facing Dylan. “And we all know you’re not a soldier…”
“Very funny,” he said dryly. I heard him grumble to himself, and finally his blond head popped up from where he was hiding. Neon orange lights decorated the outer edges of the goggles, bright enough to see even in daylight. “These are killers. They have scopes on every level. Their helm is on the top deck. Not enclosed. One is steering the ship. There are five more below. Two are on the lowest deck. All are armed with swords, but I don't see rifles. One of them... uh oh. He has a scope on his arm. He's holding his hand out over the railing. A waterspout is forming beneath him. He has the Stream! Duck!”
Clack-clack-clack! The Flying Fish was sprayed with another set of projectiles. Sadie, trotted out of the way, staring at the ship as though it were a plump hen, ready for eating.
“The Stream?”
Rune pressed himself against his cover. “A water Ability, like Commander Fallux possessed. He's using the scope to aim at distance and firing water needles. Make no mistake; they are as deadly as bullets. The Streams, there are two of them onboard.”
“How do you know that?” I asked him.
“Because there's no way that ship should be able to move so quickly. One of them is using their Ability to control water to push the ship faster. They won't be a threat. That kind of effort is exhausting.”
I bristled, feeling the Spark tumbling within my chest. It was becoming easier and easier to summon. I pressed a hand to the scars below my neck, remembering the helplessness I'd first felt in the Outside World. Strangely, knowing our adversaries had Abilities didn't frighten me. In my nightmares, I'd met a prince that made all others seem as weak as children. “Are they Dragoons?”
“Northerners,” Dylan spat. “Prince Raserion would never let anyone with any skill escape being enlisted, and defectors are rare creatures with the same lifespan as a buzzing gnat. If they survive twenty-four hours without being swatted, they'll still die in a pair of days. No amount of hiding protects them from our Prince's wrath.” The barb was meant for Rune. “These here are Varion's people.”
“But we're not even close to the North!” The roar of the Flying Fish’s awakened engines smothered my words. I understood the logic though. If these raiders, or “salvagemen” as they were called, sold their goods to the North, it stood to reason that they would only attack Western vessels.
Knowing who and what they were fueled my curiosity. An unfamiliar feeling settled in my gut. My skin tingled, blood buzzing with mounting adrenalin. I didn't feel the need to run or hide. What was this sensation? I wasn't sure I liked it. My vision was sharpened. I inhaled and exhaled long, slow breaths through my nose. My hands did not shake. I wasn't afraid, but I wasn't exactly calm.
It was... a challenge. It felt good, and worried me. Silently, I dared these salvagemen to attack us. Electricity roiled within me, flowing in pulsing waves from my heart to my fingertips. These were no Commanders, no Margraves. These people were not the Shadow Prince of the West. They were only people. A few of them were armed with a single Ability, but it would do them no good.
Plowing through the glistening blue, the greedy criminals had no idea what they'd gotten themselves into. They were about to attack a Dragoon, a Commander, a Lurcher, and a Lodestone.
Come and get us.
Chapter 14: Everything in its Place
Smoke puffed out of the Flying Fish's curling exhaust pipes, adding the warm, robust smell of burning coals to the sharp brine of the sea. A sheet of fast moving clouds curtained the sun, sheddin
g a fine veil of mist upon us. A ghostly rainbow hovered above the rust and rot of the attacking vessel.
The steady hum of our engines coughed and quieted. The Fish had stalled. A horn blared and I covered my ears. It was a warning from Carmine. The enemy ship was bearing down upon us on a collision course. We floated at the mercy of the tide.
The wind blasted and hair whipped at my eyes. I crouched against the covered, lower half of the ship's railing. “Why don't we sail?”
“Flat-bottomed ships like this,” Dylan called from his position behind the forward staircase. “They don't move quickly in the water. She'd overtake us for certain.”
“She's already going to overtake us,” I pointed out.
“The salvagemen with the Stream, they'll tear our sails with those water needles,” Rune said. He was five feet away from me, behind the same railing.
“Like Carmine's shirt,” I said.
“And arm,” Rune added.
The cabin door flew open, slamming back on its hinges, nearly hitting Dylan.
Kyle came soaring out. “They're going to hit us!” he shouted, skidding across the slick deck on his knees. The way he easily dropped down, gliding straight to the engine room hatch, I wondered if he'd slipped by accident or slid on purpose. “Brace yourselves!”
Water needles spattered across the mid-deck, seconds too late to hit Kyle. He disappeared below as quickly as he'd arrived.
“Like hell they will,” Dylan growled.
I looked at him like he was nuts. “You can't Lift that entire ship.”
“Can't I?” he grinned out from behind the stairs.
The enemy ship was long, narrow, and taller than the flying fish. Three open decks were stacked one atop the other, supported by ramshackle beams, posts and ladders. Nets hung down in place of walls, flapping in the open air, and cargo containers crowded the levels. Spyglasses sat upon welded tripods, facing each direction. There was something else, an object I didn't recognize.
“Harpoon turrets!” Rune warned us.
It was too late. The turrets fired and two barbed spears drove into the Flying Fish. One trailed rope, and the other, chain. A hook impaled the metal railing between me and Rune and I gasped at the sudden impact.
Just as I was certain that their ship was going to strike us, it came to a stop sudden enough to leave me questioning the laws of physics. How does one halt a vessel moving on the water with such momentum and drag? Seawater sprayed out from beneath us. I got the distinct impression that something had changed.
An unnatural ocean current sucked the salvageman ship backwards. For a moment, the rope and chain tethers became taut, and we were pulled along with it. I knew the displaced water had been released when we began to rock and bob furiously on the surface. Whoever used their water Ability to speed the ship along must have been exhausted by now.
Good.
“Surrender or drown!” shouted the man with the scope attached to his arm. I could see him standing on the prow of their ship. He was weatherworn and burly, with half of a white beard. “The choice is yours.”
That one could kill with a touch. Fallux, the former Commander of Breakwater, could choke his victims using the fluid in their own bodies against them.
“I'd like a third option, thank you!” Dylan called out to him.
“I've got a third option right here,” I grinned, letting electricity snap over my fingers.
The Flying Fish's engines revved to life, but it would take some time before we could achieve lift.
Rune rapped his fist against the solid rail. “Kat, the chain.”
I got his meaning and crawled to where the harpoon impaled our railing. The resistance between the two ships was already threatening to tear the rail out of its bolting. It was beginning to bend.
Nearby, Rune had grabbed hold of the rope that was tied to the other harpoon. His hands ignited with blue fire and he burned us free of the tether. The smoldering rope fell back against the side of the salvagemen's ship, dripping flames into the water.
Following his lead, I jumped up, reached over the rail, and grabbed onto the metal chain with both hands. Rising and falling with the aggravated tide, I imagined losing my balance and pitching over the side. “Whoa.” The dipping motion was dizzying, but I stood firm.
I made eye contact with the salvageman that stood at the turret. He was wrenching a spinning lever, reeling in the slack of the chain, but he wasn't too busy to notice me.
I smiled, “Goodnight.”
Heat charged through my arms, past my elbows and out of my palms. Electricity flowed into the metal chain. I gave it one hard push and it raced up the length of the conductor, overtaking the metal turret and biting into its operator. The man barked out a single shout, seized up at his station, and fell down like a cut tree. He'd be alright in a few hours, and we'd be long gone by then.
“Hard to starboard!” the captain bellowed, and the predatory ship began to swing parallel to us. “Fire!”
Two more harpoons shot into the Fish, both chain. One of them fed into the body of the attacking vessel. The gap between us was closing. Steam poured from the Flying Fish's bellows but the turbines that allowed us to hover remained off.
“Axton! Are you going to keep letting them hit us?” Rune shouted at him.
“I can't Command what I can't see, and if I stand, that maniac will shoot me!” Dylan shouted with exasperation.
“I'll handle him,” Rune promised. He rose to his full height and turned to face our attackers. Their ship was so much taller than ours that soon, our hiding places would have made little difference.
“Is it surrender?” the white-bearded man called out over the wind and surf. Our two ships were alarmingly close, with little more than ten feet between us.
Rune simply stood there.
Still tucked down, I scurried against the shelter of the rail to the next chain. The turret was unmanned, but I electrified it anyway.
A pair of salvagemen linked their legs around the chain nearest to Dylan and used their arms to pull themselves across the length of the tether. They were attempting to board.
“No?” the man with the Stream asked. “Good. I like a bit of sport.”
Raising his fist, he opened his fingers, shooting an array of water needles at Rune.
My former Cormorant Dragoon stood his ground, held his arms up in an X to protect his face, and set them ablaze. The water needles had no effect on him. Thin as they were, they evaporated against the flames before reaching him.
The bearded man looked as though he was a child caught by an adult while playing with knives. “The Sear!” he cried out, suddenly alarmed. “They have the Sear!”
Dylan used the distraction to rise from the shelter of the stairs. “Hello friends,” he said to the salvagemen climbing across the chain to our ship. “My that looks slippery.” He Commanded the nearest salvageman to remove his fingers from their hold one by one. The man’s eyes bulged in shock as his body disobeyed him. His hands released and he whipped downward, held only by his linked legs. “No no no!” the man cried out. His crewmate outstretched an arm to help him, but it was too late. Dylan dropped him into the roiling water between the two ships.
The second salvageman stared at Dylan with apparent alarm and began shimmying back up the chain as quickly as he could. Dylan made a disinterested flicking gesture with his fingers, and the second man plummeted into the sea.
“Who else wants to come over?” Dylan invited.
Rune strode to the chain that fed into their hull and gripped it with both hands. An eruption of heat poured from his palms, turning the iron links red hot. Blue fire burst free, racing up the chain to disappear within the enemy hold. Releasing, Rune let the melted chain fall against the other ship.
He exhaled a deep breath, bright eyes shining sharply beneath his dark brows. “Carmine said not to let them aboard. Let's finish this.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Dylan asked, disappointed. He needed to be nearer to use the Comm
and.
I noticed Sadie staring at me expectantly, head half-cocked as though she was waiting for something.
“Protect our ship.” I wasn't sure that she'd understand but my concern was unfounded.
The Lurcher dove on one of the harpoon-heads that punched through our railing, clawing and gnawing on it as though it were a toy. She thrashed like she’d gone rabid, and I worried she'd cut herself on the spear point. Again, she impressed me. Like all other Lurchers, Sadie's bones were made of metal. She used her entire body like a wrench, bending and warping the harpoon until, too small for the hole it had created, it rattled loose and fell free.
The salvageman captain shouted, and another volley of three rope-and-chain harpoons fired. The metal spears shot straight up into the air as if drawn toward an invisible magnet hovering somewhere above us.
I heard Dylan cackling behind me. As gravity prevailed and the harpoons fell back down, the tides shifted us and one of them drove into the deck of the salvagemen's own ship.
Still one chain linking us together. Sadie can get us free in no time. If–
A shadow settled over me, and I got the impression that someone was standing behind me. Turning slowly, my eyes rose to see a wave towering fifteen feet above us. A ray of sunlight struck through it, turning the crest turquoise and gold. The wave curled, frothing with white water, and pounded down on us.
I accidentally used my last breath to whimper.
It hit me like an icy hammer. My knees buckled and I felt myself sliding. Salt stung my eyes. I could hardly see. Something hit the back of my hand, but I couldn't grab hold of it. A very real comprehension settled on me: I might be washed overboard.
I tumbled to a sliding halt, feeling the water release me. Ocean burned in my lungs and I coughed it up. Sniffling, I dragged myself to my feet. Dylan was standing above me with a cone of water spraying all around him. He'd used the Lift to block the attack.
“You're welcome again,” was his trite remark.
“Not the time,” I hissed at him.
Dylan looked appalled, as usual. “There's always time for manners and common decency. Your crudeness continues to astound me.”
Monarch (War of the Princes Book 3) Page 8
