A howl of glee rose from Donnin's crew. Half of them were back on her ship already, bringing supplies from the island ship, but those who were left fell upon the other ship's crew. No longer outnumbered, and now in fear for their lives, the soldiers there fought back, screams and blood filling the air again. Rasim's voice sounded hollow through the noise, like he shouted into a drum: "You don't have to do that!"
They didn't have to, but they clearly wanted to. Vengeance for their fallen, just as he'd wanted vengeance for Kisia. But it was one thing to slay a sea monster destroying a fleet, and something else to put men to the sword when they only wore the same uniform as the ones who had done wrong. Rasim shouted another protest.
Donnin cuffed him across the cheek almost casually, proving to have startling strength in her delicately-boned body. Rasim's vision went white, anger so pure it bleached everything around him. He reached out helplessly, like he could stop the fight with his will alone.
A whitecap burst out of the sea between the ships, water gysering toward the sky. A third of Donnin's crew, caught moving between one ship and another, were launched upward by the sea's sudden antics. The ropes and hooks holding one ship to another were torn free and flew wildly, some splashing into the water, others, more dangerously, bashing down on both ships' decks. The pirates' delight turned to terror as water crashed across the island ship's deck, sweeping soldiers and pirates alike into the ocean. Less washed onto Donnin's deck, but enough did. Rasim kept his feet with magic's help, using it to lessen the force of the oncoming waves. Donnin herself was washed to the far rail. She caught herself there with a curse audible above the water's rumble.
A second wave slammed upward, finishing any hope of a battle between the two crews. Supplies, water barrels, clothing, weaponry all scattered under the water's onslaught, the heavier material sinking the moment it hit the ocean's surface. Then as suddenly as it had begun, the water subsided.
Rasim dropped to his knees, as drained of energy as he'd been in the moments after Kisia's ship had gone down. All around him, Donnin's crew rushed back and forth, throwing ropes to their waterlogged companions and trying to salvage the supplies that now floated in the placid sea. Donnin regained her feet and stalked to the near side of the ship, fury blazing off her.
The island ship was in worse condition than Donnin's, having taken the brunt of the waves. But fewer of their men were in the water, perhaps because they'd already been down low when the waves began to hit. Everyone was soaked, confused and afraid. Some were injured from the battle, but no one appeared to be dead. Rasim put his forehead to the deck, heart lurching with relief, then rolled out of the way as the shadow of Donnin's foot came at him. The kick missed and he rolled to his feet warily. "What was that for?"
She thrust an angry finger toward the ocean. "What do you think?"
Rasim gaped at her, then found it in himself to laugh. "You think I did that?"
"Water doesn't do that naturally, Ilyaran, and you're the only witch on board."
"I don't have that kind of power." Exhaustion swept Rasim, forcing him to lean against the ship's rail. If Donnin came after him with another blow, he wouldn't be able to escape it, but he couldn't bring himself to care. The three days since the serpent's attack had taken every ounce of his energy, and once more his ability to worry had faded with it.
"You have enough power."
Rasim couldn't tell whether Donnin was arguing or making a statement about the magic he did command. Either way, she didn't seem about to hit him again, so he turned his attention to the flailing pirates in the water. Most of them clung to ropes or floating barrels now, not in any real danger, but for the space of a breath he considered the possibility that Donnin was right. That he had, in fact, commanded the sea to rise up and end the fight. If he had done it once, he might do it again, and lift the crew from the water.
Half-consciously mimicking the motions he'd seen Asindo and Hassin do, Rasim lifted both hands, swirling them around one another to shape a whirlpool. He extended his magic, reaching for the sea, encouraging it to swell.
And felt not even as much power within him as it took to purify water. He laughed again, a sharper and more bitter sound, and let his hands drop to the rail. "It was a rogue wave, Captain. Water caught between the two ships. That's all."
"It doesn't matter. You'll teach Carley to purify our water, and then—"
Rasim looked at Donnin, waiting on the pronunciation of his fate. But she only shook her head, dismissing whatever she'd been going to say, and for an instant he caught the glitter of greed in her gaze again. His stomach went cold. Without being told, he put himself to work helping to haul crew and goods from the ocean. If he made himself useful, maybe Donnin would reconsider whatever she had in mind for him.
Carley was one of the pirates he pulled from the sea. She gave him a hard look and went below to find dry clothes. Rasim let his own dry on his body, though he could have—maybe—pushed water from them with his witchery. Donnin didn't need to know that, though. Knowledge suddenly seemed precious, and he wanted to hoard it in case it was needed later as a bargaining tool.
The pirates were better off after the raid than before, though: food and clothes were rescued from the sea, and Rasim was finally able to gather enough power to desalinate enough water for everyone to drink their fill. Carley's humor improved, and with her approval, others treated Rasim more warmly. Donnin watched them all, though, and Rasim remembered too clearly how coolly she'd given the order to kill the soldiers on the other ship. He had no doubt the friendly overtures would evaporate if she gave the same order to finish him. He had no friends on the pirate ship, nor any likelihood of making them.
They'd drifted south during the fight and the clean-up. Rasim expected them to adjust course, but no one moved to. He was sent below to work with Carley again, and this time she turned a cup of brackish water almost palatable. "Maybe your swim did you some good," Rasim suggested.
She scowled. "I almost drowned."
"But now you know the water better."
"Do you have any idea how crazy you sound?"
"No," Rasim said thoughtfully. "Not really. Knowing your element is an important part of witchery. I grew up with people saying things like that. It doesn't seem crazy to me at all. And besides." He gestured at the water she'd altered. "Something changed. I'm sorry," he added after another moment. "Sorry about what happened to your sister."
Carley's face tightened, then softened a little. "Thanks. So you see why we do this."
"No. I'd understand if you were fighting the men who killed them, or if you went after the—what did you call him? An earl?" It wasn't a word Rasim knew in the common tongue, but it obviously connotated rank. "But these soldiers didn't do anything to you. Leaving them to die without water, or killing them outright, only makes things worse."
The older girl's scowl reappeared. "You're a very strange boy." She stomped out of the galley, leaving Rasim to say, "No," slowly, to her departing back. "I'm just used to being the one who gets picked on. It makes you think differently, that's all." He followed her, not to talk, but to climb the mast and sit in the crow's nest, where he could watch the emerging stars and judge the ship's place on the sea.
It took hours before he was certain, but by midnight he was certain: they were sailing in circles. Either they lacked the skill to sail in a straight line, or Donnin had no intention of returning to land. That would explain her need for fresh water, though it made no sense to Rasim if she was looking for vengeance. "Unless it's a fight she can't win," he said aloud.
Markus spoke from below him: "I wouldn't let her hear me say that, if I was you."
A thrill of cold rushed down Rasim's arms and made his hands icy. "I shouldn't have let anybody hear me say it."
"No," Markus agreed, "but especially the captain. Did you really not lift the waves to save that ship of soldiers?"
Rasim frowned. "I really didn't. I probably would have, if I had the power, but..." He trailed off with a shrug. "Why?"
"Because men like them killed my son, and I'd throw you to a serpent myself if I thought you'd helped them. You're too honest, Ilyaran. You should have just said no. How can we trust you if you admit you'd have saved them?"
"It's safer for you to trust me than the other way around. It's your ship."
"True enough." Markus swung up to the crow's nest, showing more grace than Rasim would have expected from a man Markus's size. "Carley told you about the baron, eh?"
Baron. Another word Rasim didn't know, but it must mean the same thing as earl. He nodded, and so did Markus. "He's got Donnin's girl, Adele. Donnin's bent on rescuing her."
"From soldiers in a fortress?"
Markus waved his hand. "A walled estate, at any rate."
It was close enough to make no difference. "So it really is a fight she can't win. She's safer sailing in circles and letting the crew think they're...what? On their way to find help?"
"Mmm. But it'll only last so long. They'll expect to make landfall, and to avenge their dead. She needs an army of her own, and coin to pay for it."
Rasim shuddered, fear creeping through him to latch chilly fingers at the back of his neck. "Why are you telling me this?"
Markus gave a heavy shrug. "I'll fight for her, and I'll kill for her, but I don't hold with selling one living soul to another, and that's what she has in mind for you, water witch. She might even just sell you to the Baron in exchange for her daughter. A witch who can turn salt water fresh is worth more than a pretty girl, to a soldier king."
It seemed to Rasim that cold had taken up a permanent place in his chest, a lump that would never quite go away. He belonged to the Seamasters' Guild. That meant he'd never feared being indentured or enslaved, though he knew outside of Ilyara orphans often suffered such a fate. And he was outside Ilyara now, and alone. It had never occurred to him what an Ilyaran witch might be worth to a people who had no magic of their own. He clenched his hands together to keep them from shaking, and wished he hadn't eaten anything earlier. It wanted to come back up now, a ball of sickness rising in his belly. Very quietly, he asked, "Will you help me escape?"
"If I can. Might be all I can do is warn you."
The sickness punched inside Rasim, producing a laugh that wasn't funny. "Thank you." He meant it, though he wasn't certain he was happier with the warning. Ignorance might have been more comfortable. More dangerous, too, though: if he suspected he might be sold, he could at least watch for the moment and be prepared to risk the sea instead of the slavers. He said, "Thank you," again, and didn't move when Markus climbed down to find a berth and sleep.
Rasim's life had been quite simple a fortnight earlier. He had hoped for a place on Asindo's ship that would someday allow him to become a captain. He'd expected a life as a shipwright or shore crew. It would have been bearable. Maybe not what he dreamed of, but he would have been with friends and worked hard at a craft he loved. He hadn't imagined a second fire, or uncovering the possibility that Ilyara's foreign queen and newborn heir might have been murdered. He certainly hadn't imagined the loss of his best friend, or a future in chains.
Terror rose in him again, a bleak empty space inside that felt like he could fall into it forever. Rasim ducked his head against his knees, trying to push fear away, trying not to think about it, as if ignoring it would make it disappear. He didn't see how he could go on, his heart throbbing with worry, if he didn't push it away. There had to be something, some way to make it leave him alone, or he would just collapse of terror and be unable to save himself.
Eventually it proved there was something: sleep. He didn't know when he fell asleep, only that the golden dawn on the horizon awakened him, and that in the night his panic had passed into a sense of calm.
Serene, confident, and knowing being scared to death was only half a breath away, Rasim climbed down from the crow's nest to find Captain Donnin. She glanced at him dismissively, but did a double-take of interest when he spoke in a clear, certain voice: "What if I could give you an army?"