47

Kaylin

I love a good challenge, but this might be pushing it. The Dugong rides the high swells, straining under so much sail. It’s not the cyclone Marcus fears, but not far off either. We can’t keep it up. I look skyward and hand-over-hand it to the top of the mast, betting on the odds that Salila, and her new charge are within earshot. “Salila?”

The wind rips by and the rigging creaks. The sound of clashing swords wells up from the deck.

“By orders of Teern, and your own volition, sister. Answer me.” I climb into the crow’s nest, straining to hear her reply. The mast sways violently at this height, usually an exhilarating experience, but I’m too preoccupied to enjoy it. I loop one arm around the flagstaff, hair dripping into my eyes. There isn’t much time to take stock.

The Dugong has two catapults, one port and one starboard, each with enough fodder to fire three shots, four at the most. It’s not exactly a top-deck warship, but more a vessel for running messages and slipping in and out of places the larger ones can’t. Including the Dugong’s company and the able-bodied sailors, we have thirty-one swords. Not even close to matching the warship’s fighting power. Only one thing to do about that.

I strip off my shirt, jump to the railing and dive straight into the sea thirty yards below.

The impact shocks my body as nothing else can, but there’s no time to revel in it.

“Salila! Rosie! Battle!” That’ll get their attention. They both love a good fight. I dive straight down into the bottomless water first, then pull up in time to shoot toward the Gollnar vessel’s prow. As I climb up the hull and break the surface, the cool white skin of Salila brushes my shoulder on the left, the brown skin of Rosie on the right.

“Can I play?” Rosie asks, flashing pointy fangs and dragging them across my neck, hard enough to get my attention, not hard enough to bleed.

I slam my palm into her jaw, and she somersaults away.

“When did you become such a grump?” She pouts.

I ignore her and turn to Salila. “Watch my back, and for Teern’s sake, watch her.”

“Delighted to.”

Both Mar women’s pupils dilate, their eyes bleeding to black.

“Mind yourselves.” The wood splinters as we tear up the side of the ship. “There’s a red-robe onboard even you two might find a challenge.”

They laugh brightly. “Not in the sea.”

“His horse is with him if it truly be an animal of flesh and not phantom. Beware.”

Salila’s eyebrows go up, muscles bunching as she climbs beside me. Water runs off her body, her hair streaming behind. Rosie speeds up, taking us over. Salila reaches out, grabs her ankle and snaps her back. It looks like she’s managing to control her at least, though Rosie has yet to be consumed by the Dreaded’s penchant for bloodlust—an insatiable craving that strikes without warning and leaves hundreds of victims in their wake.

“Pay attention, and when I say jump, hit the water fast. Dive as deep as you can. There will be an explosion.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be right behind.” I spring, launching over the railing to land lightly on both feet, dead in front of their central catapult. Shouts rise from the shocked sailors, as expected. Four crewmen back away, freshly stretched rope bending the catapult trigger taut. They’re ready to fire the short distance to the Dugong, and it’s lined up to be a direct hit. They point their swords at me, not following the blurs that are Rosie and Salila. Their necks are broken before they feel the Mar’s touch. I leave them to it. By my count, I have five seconds left.

The catapult rests on a wooden carriage with four wheels and is restrained against kickback with a rope as thick as my arm. “Let’s do an about-face, shall we?” I draw my blade, seawater spraying, and swing in a slicing arc. It severs the rope in a single, lightning-fast cut, leaving the ends smoking as they unravel. I kick the base and swivel the weapon to point straight at the Gollnar ship’s mast. “Jump!” I holler and leap myself, cutting the trigger rope before I fly over the rail, my back parallel to the deck.

In a quick twist, I plunge toward the surface. Salila streaks past me headfirst and we hit the water one after the other. From beneath the waves, we both hear the boom of the warship’s mast cracking in half.

“Magnificent, brother.” Salila sweeps past me, a grin on her face, bubbles racing from her lips.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

She grabs my wrist, pulling me to a stop. “That’s your thanks?”

I cock my head and try again. “Thank you, fair sister, for your assistance. Well executed and most appreciated.”

“That’s better.” She bows. But her smile fades as she looks around. “Where in bleeding landers is Rosie?”

She disappears to find her, and I shoot back to the Dugong as fast as I can, hoping against hope none of us were seen.