That was all it took. Twisting around, Tarrin was at a full run before they looked back up at him. He was almost to the sterncastle, and the mast was raising up beside him, leaving room for him to duck under it and cross to the other side. He did that quickly, then with a single leap, cleared the sterncastle and came over its rail. He knew that he had to strike quickly and without hesitation, to get the priest before the priest could use magic against him.
There were four people on the stern. One was Sheba, in her trousers and shirt, and the other was the priest in his tunic. Another was a steersman, and the fourth, a huge reptillian one, reminded him somewhat of Binter and Sisska, but this one had a differently shaped snout.
He never had the chance to land. The priest pointed at him, and a bright white light issued forth from his hand. It turned into a intense white-blue bolt of lightning, and it struck him directly in the chest. Searing, blasting pain roared through him as his vision darkened, and he dimly realized that the impact had thrown him back towards the deck. He felt something sharp and heavy against his legs, then he was tumbling wildly, and then something hit him in the head.
And then he knew no more.
Still locked in a circle, the four Sorcerers watched helplessly as Tarrin made his way up the deck. They still protected the ship's rear quarter against arrow fire, which became more and more sproadic as Tarrin's disruption of the enemy ship took hold. It stopped completely when the mast of the clipper sagged, then came free of its anchorings, crashing to the deck. When that happened, Dolanna broke their circle and wilted visibly. "We no longer need the shield," she panted. "Do what you can where you can." Faalken took hold of Dolanna gently and led her to where she could sit down, for she was drawn and sallow, and the effort of it showed clearly on her face. For Dolanna, it had been exhausting, because she was the one who was leading. The others in the circle would fare much better than her.
Keritanima rushed to the rail with Allia and Dar and watched with something approaching horror as Tarrin appeared again from behind the fallen mast, then vaulted into the air--
--and then was struck my some kind of lightning bolt released from the stern. It struck him like a giant's fist, sending him flying backwards. He bounced off the fallen mast, and between the mast and the deck, Allia and Keritanima clearly saw him hit the rail and then tumble over the side.
"What was that?" Dar asked suddenly, eyes wide. "Is he alright?"
"He went over!" Keritanima said in shock, and then a cold icy hand gripped her around her heart. She'd felt that feeling once before, when Tarrin had been kidnapped by Jula, and she didn't like it. She was stricken with shock and anxiety, uncertain if Tarrin even survived the attack. Tarrin was family to her, the brother she never had, a brother that loved her and cared about her. She felt that cold hand turn suddenly into a raging inferno in her breast, and raw, unmitigated anger and rage roared up in her mind, tinging her vision. How dare they attack her brother! They hurt him!
They would pay!
Fire exploded from her upraised hands as Keritanima shrieked loudly in inarticulate fury, the fire coalescing and condensing down into a ballista-sized arrow of pure fire so bright that it hurt the eyes to gaze upon it. She pointed with a scream, and the bolt of fire lanced towards the black ship faster than the eye could track. It struck in a gunport and drove through like a solid thing, then penetrated the wall behind that, and the wall behind that, until it struck yet another wall and then exploded with terrific force. The explosion blew out the wall where the initial strike could not, and billowing clouds of intense heat and fire, and flaming spears of shattered woord, raged directly into the clipper's main powder magazine. A burning shard of wood penetrated a tightly sealed barrel of gunpowder, and that started a chain reaction of explosions.
The first ripped the side of the ship asunder and send a cloud of sooty fire billowing out from the wound, setting off smaller explosions of powder in the gunchambers that shattered the entire port beam. That explosive shockwave slammed into the galleon, and knocked everyone on the Star of Jerod off their feet. Keritanima and Allia were blown back, Dar landing on top of the Selani as the galleon shuddered away from the force of the blast, sending a few men on the other side of the ship over the rail. The second erupted from around the fallen mast, causing it to shift as fire and explosive force pressed up against its weight.
The third was a thunderous detonation, as the main powder reserves all exploded at once. The entire middle of the ship suddenly disappeared in a horrendously loud blast of fire and smoke, sending shards of wood flying like cannonballs to rake through the galleon's sails and rigging. Keritanima and Allia both screamed in surprise and fear, Dar trying to cover Allia as best he could to shield her from the blast, but their screams were swallowed up by a massive roaring, cracking sound that caused Keritanima's ears to bleed and left her dizzy and dazed. The galleon rocked to the side, almost putting the port rail in the water, and sending men and supplies flying overboard.
When the ship rolled back to where Keritanima could see the clipper, she was horrified. The entire amidships of the vessel was just gone. A gaping hole was there, as if some giant had reached down and scooped out the middle. Her ears were ringing, so she couldn't hear what was going on around her, but her eyes were totally affixed to the black clipper. There was no sign of life aboard, and the ship's bow was beginning to list to starbord as the stern started rolling backwards.
Keritanima was stunned. The ship had literally been blown in half.
Flaming debris, bits of wood, and grisly pieces of what had been living things moments ago began to rain down onto the deck. Keritanima got up onto her knees as Allia angrily pushed Dar aside and rose herself. She was overwhelmed. She had single-handedly destroyed the Black Clipper, and had probably killed the notorious Sheba the Pirate. But that wasn't made her face so horrified. She didn't know if Tarrin survived that explosion. The thought that she may have killed her own brother was simply too much for her to face.
Eyes rolling back into her head, Keritanima sagged forward, and then fainted dead away.
The crew of the Star of Jerod watched in stunned silence as the two halves of the ship settled, listed, then slipped silently beneath the waves.
Chapter 3
There was nothing left of the Black Ship, but there was plenty of it floating on the surface.
Tarrin's eyes fluttered open, and he coughed out a mouthful of briny water as the sunlight stung at his vision. He was floating on the surface, bobbing on the waves still lapping from the sinking of the Black Ship. He only vaguely remembered the explosion of the vessel, the impact of which had driven him under and knocked him out. Only his grip on his staff saved him, the Ironwood staff whose bouyant ability was so powerful that it lifted him back up to the surface. The sun wavered on the edge of an inky black cloud of greasy smoke that billowed up from the surface of the sea, and smaller pieces of debris were still raining down from it, peppering the surface of the ocean like stone thrown into a pond by children.
The injury to his chest throbbed with the beating of his heart. The seawater only burned it more, and he clutched at it and panted for breath. No wonder Sheba had been willing to pit her priest against Kern's unknown magic. He'd never experienced anything quite like that before. Just by touching the wound he could tell that the skin and flesh were charred, and because it was a wound inflicted by magic, it wouldn't simply regenerate. Dolanna would have to heal it.
Putting an elbow over his staff, he got control of the pain, shunted it aside enough to be able to think clearly. He was floating in a debris field, and he wasn't alone. Several other Wikuni also clung to twisted lengths of wood, and all of them looked the worse for wear. He had no idea what made the ship explode, but he had a pretty good idea that Dolanna had something to do with it. She would be the only one with the experience or training to lay an entire vessel low so effectively. Many of them were wounded, some of them laying on flatter pieces of debris unconscious with other Wikuni making sure they di
dn't slip off and drown. All of them looked stunned and dazed, and Tarrin couldn't blame them. The sound of it, the pure concussive force, it was something that he could appreciate to create that kind of condition. It had even knocked him out, and he was substantially tougher than a human or Wikuni.
He could see the Star of Jerod. It was a bit battered, some of its rigging was on fire, and a couple of sails were now laying on the deck, but it seemed to have survived more or less intact. Kern's men were putting out the fires, and he could make out Binter, Sisska, and Azakar at the rail. They were the only ones tall enough to stand out through the haze, steam, and smoke that clung to the surface of the sea after the explosion. No doubt that Keritanima had to be close by, for both of the Vendari protectors to be in the same place. That was a tremendous relief. The galleon had been very, very close to the Wikuni clipper when it exploded, and that much destructive power could have ripped the old galleon apart. It had certainly scorched her entire starbord beam, and chewed up the rigging a bit, but the masts were still standing, and it looked that Kern hadn't lost many men to the explosion. Kern would have to make repairs before the ship could get under way, but at least they'd be capable of getting under way.
One of the Wikuni drifted closer and closer to him, and he realized that it was Sheba herself. She had her back to him, clinging listlessly to her ship's steering wheel, and a very wide swath of her fancy red coat's back had been ripped away. A deep slash went across her furred back, bleeding liberally, and two small shards of wood were embedded high on her right shoulder. Tarrin grabbed the wheel without thinking and pulled her closer, seeing that she was unconscious when he turned her around. She was really rather attractive, in a feline kind of way. The Cat in him could appreciate the grace of her hybrid features, the human head sporting a cat's slender snout and wide cheeks, and a pink button-nose. Half of her right ear was missing, and the right side of her muzzle had a deep cut in it that sent a thin, steady rivulet of blood into the water.
Without thinking, he reached over as he touched the Weave, and he wove together a spell of healing. At his touch, those wicked slashes and lacerations healed over, and the missing section of her ear grew back and sprouted black fur. She was an enemy, or she had been. But now she was defeated, and the Cat held no grudges against an enemy that was honorably bested. Neither did Tarrin. She was no longer the antagonist, she was an injured victim in need of help, and Tarrin couldn't turn his back on her suffering.
If only he could heal himself.
Her bright green eyes fluttered, and she groaned. Then they affixed on him and focused, but her expression of dull awareness didn't change. "You," she said slurringly. "What did you do to me?"
"I healed you," he replied bluntly. "You were hurt."
"Why'd you have to go and do that?" she snapped at him with sudden energy. "Can't you just leave me alone now? You've won!"
"I don't think anybody won here," he replied with a calm look.
She snorted, and then to his surprise, she let go of the wheel. She slipped under the water quickly, but fortunately he had enough presence of mind to snare her around the wrist with his agile tail and haul her back up to the surface. She spluttered and spewed out a shocking amount of water from her mouth, then began to cough. She had breathed in the water on purpose! She tried to kill herself!
Grabbing her by the scruff of her tattered coat, he hauled her back up onto the wheel, letting her cough all the water from her lungs. "Are you crazy?" he demanded in surprise.
"Just let me die, you fool!" she snapped at him. "It's what's going to happen to me anyway! Either going to the bottom or getting my neck stretched, either way I know how things are going to end up!" She tried to struggle out of his grip. "At least this way I won't be humiliated by hanging from a yardarm for the amusement of a bunch of clod-grubbing, dirty humans!"
"Fine," he said gruffly, letting go of her. "I don't care about you one way or the other. If you want to kill yourself, be my guest."
She glared at him, then the corner of her mouth turned up and she winked. But any attempt to slide off the wheel again was stopped when a dark shadow loomed over them, making both of them turn and look. It was the Star of Jerod, and either it had drifted over to them, or they had drifted towards it. Azakar hung from a net ladder along the side, a dark hand reaching down and grabbing Sheba by the scruff of her neck and physically lifting her out of the sea. Tarrin felt tremendously relieved for some reason when the Mahuut youth reached his huge hand down for Tarrin, and Tarrin reached up his paw. He was pulled up out of the water, keeping a stubborn grip on his staff, then he was passed up to Sisska's waiting taloned hands. Binter was the one to grab hold of him and put him on the deck, where he was immediately smothered by Allia and Keritanima. He gasped when Keritanima crushed him in an embrace, which made her immediately back off and pull open his shirt.
"Have I told you today that you are crazy, my brother!?" Allia raged. "What possessed you to do such a foolish thing! You could have been killed!"
"The end justifies the means, sister," Tarrin told her weakly. "I knew that they'd be too busy dealing with me to press an attack against the ship. I was right."
"You stubborn, pig-headed, suicidal maniac!" Keritanima bored at him, inspecting the wound. "How dare you get yourself all torn up! How dare you nearly give me a heart attack!"
"Better a heart attack then an arrow in the chest," he told her.
Her answer to that was to press two glowing hands against his chest. It felt like the touch of a Wraith, and he rose up on his toes and gasped as furiously cold energies raced into him through his wound. That cold was replaced with a surging heat, and the fading of the cold took the pain with it. He put a paw to his chest, and felt smooth, pink skin where a charred hole had been. When did Keritanima learn to heal?
"Where is Dolanna?" Tarrin asked as he looked around. All his friends were there except for Dolanna.
"She's below, resting," Faalken replied. "The circle took alot out of her. I think one of her pupils was holding back some," he said, with an accusing look at Keritanima.
"A circle is always most exhausting for its lead," she replied primly. "I didn't hold anything back. I gave her everything she asked of me, and more."
"Well, it is much of what I can do to stand," Allia said.
"Me too," Dar agreed. "I think Dolanna took a few years of my life back there."
Keritanima turned to where Sheba was sitting on the deck with several of her crew. They were under the careful watch of Kern's men, holding swords on the seated, injured Wikuni. Keritanima's amber eyes were blazing, and the look on her face was infurated, but it didn't seem to impress the notorious pirate. "This is all your doing, you idiot!" she screamed at Sheba. "How dare you attack the conveyance of the High Princess! My father will--"
"Your father was going to pay me a bloody fortune to drag your disobediant tail back to Wikuna," Sheba interrupted. "I may be a pirate, but I have my own priest of Kikalli, wallflower. You'd be flattered to know that your father is offering a fifty thousand crown reward for whoever returns you to him." She looked away. "I saw you in the porthole, and realized that you somehow convinced that cagey old Kern to give you passage. Kern's usually not stupid enough to take on such a dangerous cargo."
Keritanima drew herself up with an icy stare, and looked down at the panther Wikuni. "I think we both know who's the bigger fool here," she said in a cold voice. "I'm not a piece of jewelry you can lock in a trunk and deliver up to my father on a velvet cushion."
"Yes, well, Trevon assured me he could counter the witch-cat Kern had on board. If I'd have known he was carrying a pack of Sorcerers to boot, I wouldn't have taken you on." She looked at Tarrin, then put her eyes on the deck resolutely. "At least do me the courtesy of letting me jump overboard."
"I think not," Keritanima snapped. "You were going to collect a bounty on me, so I'm going to return the favor. Dayisè would certainly pay me a pretty penny to hand you over to them, with as many Shacèan ships as you've
sunk in the last few years."
"You'll never get anywhere near Dayisè," she snapped in reply, her green eyes blazing. "Damon Eram has every port from Suld to Tor blockaded. Wikuni warships will intercept this ship and search it when you try to approach. And you know what will happen if Wikuni ships find you."
"Then I'll sink them the same way I sunk you," Keritanima told her with a snort and crossed arms. "I'm not just a pretty trinket anymore, Sheba. I have real power now, and I know how to use it."
"What did they teach you, princess?" Sheba sneered. "To roll over and play dead? Maybe how to juggle fire? Perhaps how to whine even louder to get your way?"
Keritanima snarled viciously and grabbed Sheba by the collar, and cocked back her other hand as if to punch the woman. But Sheba's sneering grin faded when fire erupted around Keritanima's closed fist, shrouding it in a fiery nimbus.
"That's enough of that, miss," Faalken told her, pulling her away from Sheba with gentle force and holding her by the shoulders. "It's not seemly to threaten the defeated. It's bad form. And the defeated had better remember which end of the sword is pointing at them," he said in Sheba's direction.
"I think this one is the priest, Highness," Binter said in his deep voice as they looked at him. He was holding a badly injured lion-Wikuni up by the back of his neck, like a large doll. The figure had been wearing robes, but they, as well as most of his fur, had been burned off. His right eye was lost, with a deep slash running above and below the bloody socket.
"Is he dead, Binter?" she asked, her voice still quivering with anger.
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