48

Marcus

“Ash?” Her name echoes over the deck. “Ash, where are you?” I won’t sheath my sword until she’s found.

My hands shake, but not from battle, or the enemy blood covering the deck. My recorder should have been below, where I told her to stay. Tyche’s there, but there’s no sign of Ash. The swell smooths out as we reach the end of the channel, but could she have been washed overboard?

The clang of steel still rings in my ears and my head throbs from De’ral’s relentless pressure behind my eyes. Fighting with a warrior phantom unable to rise is not fun, I’ve discovered, but none of that matters now until I find Ash. Kaylin is missing, too, but I’m not worried about him. He’s half fish, as far as I can tell. “Who’s seen my wordsmith?” I call out to anyone within a shout’s reach.

A deckhand tossing bodies over the side stops mid-stoop and points to the hatch. “Below, surely, sir.”

I search the hold for the third time. There’s little space down here on the best days but after the battle, wounded sailors lie across tables and fill the hammocks. There’s hardly room to move. I lean over Piper’s shoulder while she works and speak in her ear, none too quietly. “Have you seen Ash?”

“You mean since you asked five minutes ago?” Piper says, not looking up from her patient as she holds a thick cloth to his blood-soaked chest.

“This is a Gollnarian,” I say, my eyes lingering on the man’s uniform.

Piper nods again. “Of those that swung aboard, he is the sole survivor. I presume you want him for questioning.”

“Thanks, but what about Ash?”

“Not now, Marcus,” she says as arterial blood pulses into the cloth.

Tyche’s bandaging our first mate’s arm from shoulder to fingertips of which I only count three. “Ash?” I ask.

She shakes her head.

I wade through the wounded but there’s no sign. Back on deck, my stomach’s in knots. We’ve defeated the enemy who seemed to have fired upon themselves and crossed the channel in high seas but if Ash was swept overboard, I’ll never know victory again. “Ash!” I shout.

The ocean suddenly loses the last bit of chop and turns calm as a blue lake, the wind behind us. “Oi!” I shout when I see Belair and Samsen with Kaylin. Belair’s red hair is soaked in blood and Samsen supports him on one side, Kaylin on the other.

“What’s happened?” I rush to them. Belair had no injury when I left him on deck and that was not long ago.

“A small price for not ducking fast enough,” Belair says. He’s shrugging it off, but his face is ghost white.

“Damned lucky his head’s made of stone.” Samsen laughs. “Or the Gollnar blade would have split him in two.”

“I’ll be all right.” Belair straightens to take his own weight, then sags back down against Kaylin.

“Aye, you’ll be fine,” the sailor says. “Once the bleeding stops.”

I scan the deck. “Have you seen Ash?” The words are gruff, and I don’t look directly at any of them. “If she fell overboard. If she’s lost—”

She’s fine, De’ral says.

“Why didn’t you say so sooner?” Relief washes in, even though De’ral doesn’t answer that.

“She’s coming down now.” Kaylin points to the crow’s nest. “I sent her up there to keep an eye on the retreating warship.”

“Up there? With her seasickness? The headaches? She was meant to stay below,” I growl. “Guarding the bones.”

“Which she did, with Tyche.” Kaylin shrugs. “When the battle was won, she offered assistance.”

“That doesn’t mean you let her!”

“Let her?” Kaylin’s perplexed. “Are we talking about the same lass?”

Before I can answer, Ash jumps from the top of the boom rung to the deck, landing light on her bare feet. The four of us stare at her, but only one is smiling, and it’s not me.

“What could you see from the nest?” Kaylin asks before I can speak.

The right question, I admit. But I want to point out that she could have forgotten where she was and walked right over the edge.

She’s lost some memories, not her mind, De’ral says.

Ash smirks, clearly hearing my phantom. She brushes her hands clean and pulls a small distance viewer from the deep pocket of her pants. “You won’t believe it.”

“Aye?” Kaylin takes a step closer. “And while you’re explaining, I’ll have the compass back.”

“Um…” She tries not to smile. “Sorry sailor, but that’s not a likely event.”

They banter? I thought she was swept overboard, drowned at sea, and they banter?

“You lost my compass?” Kaylin pretends upset.

“I dropped it over the edge.” She holds her hands out, her voice innocent. “By accident. It’s at the bottom of Black Dart by now.” She waves behind us toward the channel, sending Kaylin the smile she can no longer contain.

My fear flips into anger. I clear my throat to get their attention, and to dislodge the bitterness stuck there. “So, what did you see that we won’t believe?”

She hands me the viewer and points at the coast. “Have a look.”

I check, finding the shore closer than I’d thought. “Can’t be,” I say. “Is that what I think?”

“If you think it’s the Gollnar warship beached in that cove, then yes.” Ash becomes serious. Finally. “The ship took damage, but it landed all right, on Tangeen soil. And that’s not the half of it. Look up.”

I do, and spot it, or I should say, him, the red-robe savant, on his horse, gazing out to sea. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was looking right at me. Not for the first time.

“Our skirmish hasn’t slowed him down.” I hand the viewer to Samsen.

“What do we do?” Samsen asks.

I exhale. “Take Belair below to Piper, for a start.” I turn my back on the other men and touch Ash’s sleeve. “A word?”

She raises her brows. “Right now?”

“If it’s convenient.” The tightness in my shoulders won’t relax. I walk her aft and wait until we’re alone, save for the crew mopping blood off the deck.

She studies my face closely. “What’s wrong?” she asks.

“You didn’t stay below.” I take a breath. “Kaylin sends you up to the clouds, where you’ve never climbed before, the opposite of staying below, or staying safe.” I examine the side of her head. “You’re bleeding?”

“Just a bump.”

I empty my lungs in a rush. “You both defy me and put your life at risk. And what of the bones? I said to guard them.”

Not what I would have said, De’ral comments from behind my eyes.

“Shut up.” It’s possible my words have come out wrong, but I don’t need my phantom undermining them.

Possible they came out wrong? Try likely.

Well, yes. I see he’s right and now Ash is on the defensive.

“I went where I was needed, when I was needed, Marcus,” she says, not the least apologetic. Her eyes are hooded and something else is there, a challenge I’ve never seen before.

My tone sharpens. “I’m trying to protect you, Ash, but you aren’t making it easy.”

She crosses her arms and I brace for the inevitable list of reasons why trying to protect her is not my job. I feel the chuckle of De’ral’s laughter deep inside. “I said shut up!”

“Pardon me?”

“Not you, Ash! Never you.” Curse the bones, this is going from bad to worse. “That was a mistake.”

She bristles, and I don’t blame her at this point, but instead of the verbal catapult I’m expecting, she reaches up and slips her arms around my neck and hugs me. “I would have been frightened, too, if you were nowhere to be found. I’m sorry.” On tiptoe, she kisses my cheek. “But we’re safe and victorious, and in need of a wash. We can’t come before the Magistrate’s throne covered in blood. You know what he’s like.”

Persnickety, we used to say, and he’s only gotten worse with age. “Maybe we’d be more convincing, showing up spattered in blood. Battle for the bones, and all. They are safe, right?”

“Safe and sound.” She smiles. “But you stink, Marcus Adicio.” She releases me. “I insist you have a proper wash.”

“I will, but you don’t smell all that nice yourself.”

“You two look happy,” Piper says, coming out of the hold. “Hope you can hold on to that feeling.”

“Why?” We both say at once.

“The last man from the Gollnar ship just died. Peace be his path, but you’ll hear no news of Atikis today.”