[Spoilers if you haven't read your FREE COPY of The Blood Prayer yet.]
After a night of fitful unrest, I woke to someone hammering on my cabin’s door. The Valerie had been lurching through rough seas since sundown, and I still hadn’t learned to sleep through the weather. The banging on the door almost drowned out Moth’s voice.
“Mister Aust! Mister Jago! There’s another ship. Come see.”
My hammock swung in time with the swell. Our cabin didn’t have a window, so I reached through the dark in the direction I thought was “up” and felt for the beam above me. Once I found it, I pulled my legs free and swung down in time with the crest of a wave. Jago’s bunk was directly below mine, and I’d discovered the dangers of simply rolling out of bed.
The ship tried to slip out from under me as I stumbled toward the door. Jago snored like a wolf cub, oblivious to the sea and the racket Moth was making. I opened the door midway between blows and glared at my tormentor.
“Mister Aust, there’s a ship,” she said. “Tasnan navy, maybe. Come on, come see.”
I let her lead me by the arm. Her black curls were cropped so boyishly short that she almost could have passed for one of the crew, had it not been for her frilly red dress. She wore three or four bracelets on each arm, brass earrings that she’d charmed from one of the sailors, and several beaded necklaces, none of which were actually worth anything. In addition to these items, she wore a tight leather cord threaded with slivers of bone around her neck, the token that marked her as a Scenga of the Blackwater clan.
She clambered up the steps to the deck, and water sprayed down when she opened the hatch. Moth and I had taken to going barefoot like the crew, but if the deck was cold and slick it might have been wise to go back for my boots. I paused, but Moth yelled, “Hurry up, snail.” I was too groggy to fight her indomitable will.
As I’d feared, the deck was slippery with spray, and the whole ship bucked up and down like a stallion. The waves didn’t look as bad as they felt, but the helmsman was steering directly into the swells instead of taking them at an angle. The sails had been dropped, and teams of sailors scrambled to secure every foot of canvas. I pulled Moth under the quarterdeck steps so that we’d be out of the way.
Moth seemed excited by all the commotion. In truth, I worried about her. Not a month had passed since her clan had been slaughtered, but instead of grieving, Moth had buried her loss beneath a torrent of enthusiasm. It had endeared her to the crew, but I wondered what would happen if her cheer ever faded.
“There, see?” Moth pointed to starboard.
When the Valerie topped the next crest, I saw a tall-masted warship bearing down on us, perhaps a mile away. Her wind-taut sails were silver and blue, and she seemed unusually narrow for her height. The warship’s sides bristled with cannons.
The Valerie lurched. Moth and I grabbed the stairs. Captain Forgil bellowed orders from the quarterdeck, but another voice cut through the air from the direction of the approaching ship. I couldn’t make out the words, but it sounded like someone was yelling through a pipe.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Not a clue, me. This is great.”
A light flashed on the Tasnan ship’s forecastle, followed moments later by a boom. One of the planks on our starboard rail exploded, and something the color of lead flashed through the air. Splinters clattered around us like hail, and I tried to shelter Moth with my body.
“Let’s hope that was a warning shot, lads,” said the bosun. “Now get that last fucking sail down and run up the colors!”
My chest filled with dread. It had been weeks since we’d had any news from the outside world. If the Tasnan navy was attacking ships on sight, the situation out there must have been worse than we thought.
“Let’s get back below,” I said.
“Hells no, gasho. Staying here, me.”
“Then keep your head down.” I stepped out from our hiding place to get a better look. There were two approaching ships, I now saw. One peeled out from behind the other on a course that would cut off any escape. The first ship tacked in the other direction, the better to catch us in a broadside. I could make out a handful of the words being shouted: halt, down, and something like ordered or hoarded. Another boom shook the air, followed by a fount of seawater over the forward rail.
The bosun rang the ship’s bell, over and over. Every sailor who wasn’t already on deck came running topside.
“All hands, all hands,” he shouted. “Inspection stations! Prepare to be boarded.”
That sounded better. To be boarded and inspected was infinitely preferable to being sent to the bottom of the ocean. Coasting on momentum, the Valerie tipped drunkenly as one of the warships approached our port side.
The Valerie’s complement arranged themselves on deck. The sailors shuffled on their feet, looking back and forth between the Tasnan ship, their captain, and each other. Some of my fellow refugees had come above too. The ones with sense stayed out of the way, but a few leaned over the rail and waved at the approaching ship. I kept a firm hand on Moth’s arm, and we watched from our shelter by the quarterdeck.
The first warship drew close enough to see the faces of its crew and to read the name Insistent painted on the bow. As our forward motion came to a halt, the Insistent aimed two harpoon-guns at our side. They fired long barbs into the Valerie’s hull, trailing cables that the elven crew used to winch the two ships alongside each other.
Once we were close enough, two teams on the Insistent extended boathooks over our rail. The Shi’El marines not working to bridge the gap pointed handheld long-guns at us on the Valerie. The guns were magical weapons not unlike hand-cannons, but slimmer and nearly a yard in length. One of the Insistent’s officers raised a silver hoop to his mouth. When he spoke, it nearly deafened me.
“STAND BACK FROM THE RAIL. DO NOT MAKE SUDDEN MOVEMENTS. WE WILL FIRE AT ANY SIGN OF RESISTANCE.”
From the way everyone else winced, I wasn’t the only one whose ears were now ringing. Once the boathooks were secured between our ships, two sea-elves in mages’ robes activated a magic charge in the grappling lines. Both vessels lurched, locked to each other like a ship with a double hull. The sea-elf marines extended two gangplanks and sent an armed party across. Our captain stepped forward to greet them.
“Gibran Forgil, master of the Valerie. Permission to come aboard granted.”
A Shi’El officer took the captain aside while the marines surrounded the passengers and crew. I pushed Moth behind me, and she poked me in the spine.
“I want to see.”
“Shh.” I kept my grip on her arm while a second platoon of marines went down one of the stairwells. Apart from Shadmar and some other sick refugees, it looked like everyone aboard had come topside. Everyone except…
A wolf’s head popped out of the nearest hatch and yawned, a bestial maw with fierce-looking incisors. The mighty jaw stretched, and cracked audibly shut. The manwolf shook his jowls, flinging off drops of rain, and then spoke.
“Could you bloody sea-rats make a bigger racket? What’s a fella got to do to get a few hours slee…”
Every single gun held by every sea-elf marine was now pointed at Jago’s head.
“Whoa,” he said. “Hey. Ah, let’s… not do anything hasty.”
Slowly Jago rose from hatch. He stood seven feet tall, an upright wolf covered in grey fur. Some of the elves inched forward as he climbed on deck, while others backed away. As soon as he cleared the hatch, one of the long-guns went off, blasting a handful of splinters from the mainmast.
“Crikey!” Jago shouted. Chaos broke out.
The Valerie’s sailors rushed the marines, who, focused on Jago, were taken by surprise. I heard a few splash as they were thrown overboard, and a cheer went up among the passengers.
The regiment of gunmen on the Insistent opened fire. The cheering stopped as the first crack sounded. Captain Forgil shouted for his men to stand down, and then there was nothing but gunshots and screams.
Moth laughed. Cracks echoed through the air, but she didn’t even flinch. I forced her down to the deck, shielding her with my body. She screamed and kicked me. “Get off, gasho pig!” Then she screamed in earnest as a bullet struck a plank beside our heads.
“Get out of here,” I said. “Get out. Take off. Leave us.”
“No,” she yelled back, wriggling out of my grasp. “No one left behind. Not again. No one ever.”
A bullet ricocheted not far from my ear.
“Moth, don’t be stupid. You have to go.”
“I’m not–” The rest was a squeal as I picked her up and ran to starboard. “Don’t you dare, Aust! Don’t you dare!”
I ran to the rail and threw Moth over the side.
She never hit the water.
I asked her once what the change was like – if it hurt, or if she was frightened when it happened. She told me it was like walking from one room to another. In the blink of an eye, the air folded around her, and a raven soared into the sky.
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