Red Tide (73 page)

And that meant cutting the devilship free of the stone-skin vessel.

Amerel turned and dashed for the port rail. A pace ahead was a black-cloaked Augeran, running the same way. The Guardian was tempted to cut him down, but just because someone presented their back to her didn't mean she
had
to plant a blade in it. Besides, the stone-skins were now withdrawing to their own ship. Little sense in continuing the fight, after all, when the only prize for the winner would be to get eaten alive by the dragon. Clearly the Augerans were hoping to flee just as Amerel was. Clearly they didn't realize that their water-mage was dead.

“Cut the ropes!”

Amerel hurdled an Islander's corpse, slipped on a patch of gore, and windmilled her arms. There was a shriek from behind, a horrible crunching, but she didn't look round to see who the dragon had taken. It hardly mattered so long as it wasn't her. As she reached the gunwale, the deck tilted and carried her into it. To either side, Augerans clambered over the rail. A boot swished her hair. There was a blood-soaked rope drawn taut next to her, and she swung her sword at it.

It parted.

A breeze chilled the back of her neck as if the dragon was breathing on it. When she glanced round, though, she saw the creature still loitering by the bow. A rumble sounded in its throat. It scanned the people on deck like it was choosing from a menu. Then its gaze fell on the
Fury
's figurehead. With the combatants' fighting zeal doused, the devilship's voice had dropped to a whimper. Evidently that noise was still enough to grate on the dragon's ears, though, for the creature raised a clawed foot and struck the figurehead. It shattered the wood and sent the painted demon sailing a dozen armspans to splash into the sea.

“Cut the ropes!” someone shouted again.

Three lines remained intact. At one, a man with a harelip held an ax above his head like he was chopping wood, while beside him a woman tried to slice through a second with a boarding pike. Tattoo pushed her aside and severed the cord with a swipe of his sword. Amerel scampered for the third rope, but she was beaten to it by a red-cloaked warrior on the Augeran ship. He slashed through the line with a knife, and suddenly the
Fury
was free.

The two vessels drifted apart.

“Barnick!” Galantas yelled.

A wave of water-magic burgeoned beneath the devilship. Barnick didn't waste time turning the vessel, simply reversed it from the dragon. The beast snapped its teeth at the retreating bow.

Missed.

Beside Amerel, the last stone-skin on the
Fury
scrambled to the rail and tried to leap the gap between the two separating ships. His tired half dive, though, took him only half the distance, and he fell shrieking into the sea. The
Fury
pulled away, rising higher and higher as the wave beneath it grew. There were clear waters now between the ship and the dragon. The beast regarded the vessel with its huge golden eyes. There was no reason for it to follow the
Fury
. It was the stone-skin ship, not the devilship, that was marked with dragon blood. It was the stone-skin ship that bobbed helpless without a water-mage.

But follow the creature did. How unfair was that?

The dragon's body gleamed in the water, half the length of the
Fury
, with spikes along its spine and a tail that snaked behind. It barely seemed to be moving at all, but in the blink of an eye it had quartered the distance to the devilship. Amerel swallowed against a dry throat. Someone shouted at Barnick to go faster—as if the water-mage might have been toying with the creature until now. Still he managed an extra burst of pace that sent Amerel staggering into Tattoo. The wind rushed in her ears.

The dragon drew nearer.

An archer shot an arrow that struck the beast's snout. A second missile took it in the eye, but the dragon appeared not to notice. Just forty lengths away. To Amerel's right, two Rubyholters lifted a stone-skin corpse and tossed it over the side in the hope it would draw the dragon. It didn't. Amerel would have thrown some live meat to the beast if she'd thought that might work better, but there was a glint in the creature's eye that said it was enjoying the chase. If it had wanted easy prey, it would have stayed with the stone-skin ship.

Amerel roused herself. A sorcerous globe down the gullet would show the dragon the error of its ways. True, the beast was much closer than she would have liked, but with the
Fury
pulling away swiftly, perhaps the devilship would escape the brunt of the magic when the glass smashed. Where was Noon, though? Not with the sailors on the main deck. Not on the quarterdeck either. Damn the man. If he'd gotten himself killed, he could at least have had the courtesy to give her the globes first.

“Noon!” she shouted.

No response.

She pushed past Tattoo, making for the prow. A Will-blow wouldn't inflict any lasting damage on the dragon, but it might persuade it to try its luck elsewhere. It wasn't as if she was blessed with other options.

She gathered her power.

That was when she saw Noon at the starboard cathead. His shirt was ragged, the right sleeve torn clean off. He held something in his hand. Something that sparkled as he hurled it toward the pursuing dragon.

Uh-oh.

Amerel made to grab the rail.

An explosion of earth-magic cracked the air, and not for the first time today she found herself lying on the deck, staring up at the sky.

 

C
HAPTER
22

B
Y THE
time Ebon crossed the stepping-stones, the battlements were under the control of Twist and his allies. Half a dozen Erin Elalese had ignored the prince's instruction to remain on the opposite tower and followed him over the stones. But no more were on their way now.

He released the rocks, and they fell into the waterway.

To Ebon's left was a pile of Gilgamarian corpses. Seven motionless red-cloaked warriors were scattered about the tower, and an equal number of Revenants were laid out beside the catapult. Across from Ebon, one of the twins sat with her back to the parapet, her left leg cut to the bone, the skirt of her susha robe soaked with blood. The bearded Revenant healer was tending to her, and Ebon saw her wound close up to a red-beaded scar. Vale stood in the shade of the catapult's arm holding a shield that looked like it had been trampled over by a herd of lederel. His frown conveyed his disapproval at Ebon's presence, but he said nothing as the prince joined him.

To the east, the stone-skins from the next tower must have been advancing this way along the wall, because a handful of Revenant archers had taken up station on that side of the battlements and were sending down a steady fire of arrows. From the south came a trumpeting sound, and over the parapet Ebon saw a silver-scaled dragon erupt from the waves beside a stone-skin ship. Dragons might have been a common sight in these parts for all the attention the mercenaries and the Erin Elalese gave them. Ebon, too, had no time to gawp. Preparations were under way for the attack down the stairs. Revenants collected ammunition from corpses, or half rolled, half pushed catapult stones to where Twist stood beside the stairwell. The mercenary leader was in whispered conversation with the woman wearing the eyepatch. When it ended, she moved away to join her kinsmen.

Twist raised his hands. “Okay, lads, gather round,” he said to his men. “Here's how it's gonna go down. These stones”—he pointed to the catapult stones—“should do nicely to clear away any enemies on the stairs. The lefties among you are gonna be first to follow them down, 'cause the way the staircase turns, you'll be better able to get a swing in if you meet trouble. While we're attacking down the stairs, the Breakers there”—he nodded to the Erin Elalese assembled at the eastern battlements—“are going over the side with the ropes they've brought. Stone-skins below have left the portcullis up to allow for reinforcements along the wall, and we mean to use that to our advantage. While we pin down the enemy at the bottom of the stairs, Breakers will hit them through the arch. Dunno how many swords the stone-skins have got, but judging by the numbers they left guarding these battlements, I'm guessing it's less than we have. Questions?” He didn't give anyone a chance to speak. “Then let's do this. Endorian plus one, you're with me in the second wave.”

Ebon stared at the man. “Plus one”—was that him? The mercenary did him too much honor, surely.

A catapult stone was rolled to the top step. A push sent it thumping down the stairwell with a noise like a titan's footsteps.

The left-handed fighters among the Revenants came grumbling forward as if they'd been called to the lash. Their colleagues slapped them on the back and spurred them on with sympathetic offerings. “Save some for us, eh,” one man said. “Anything you want me to pass on to your wife and my kids?” The lefties numbered only four, meaning the second wave of attackers—Ebon's wave—might as well have been the first. He could have objected, of course—Twist had no authority over him or Vale. But the truth was, Vale belonged at the front, and Ebon meant to be at his shoulder.

A second catapult stone was sent rumbling down the stairs.

Alongside Ebon, Vale was his usual steadfast presence. The Revenants pressed in close, getting ready to go. A woman with the longest hair he'd ever seen sucked in deep breaths. Twist was chuckling to the man beside him as he reenacted how he'd dispatched a stone-skin in the fight for the battlements. His voice had an edge of excitement to it. Maybe it was an act to put his companions at ease, but if so it wasn't helping Ebon. Normally he didn't feel fear before a fight, yet an iciness was creeping through him as if the goddess Galea had returned to his mind. This once he might have welcomed her back. There were times when he thought that he could sense her in a distant corner of his mind—and that, with the right tug, he could have drawn her to him. But not today.

A third stone followed the second. There had been no shouts from the stairs to suggest the other rocks had met stone-skins on their way down, so Twist raised a hand to halt the man pushing a fourth, before gesturing to the lefties. Ebon swallowed and drew his sword. He needed more time to prepare himself for what waited below, but how was thinking about it going to make it easier? Better just to get on with it. Someone passed him a shield. It felt so heavy on his arm he doubted he'd be able to lift it when the time came.

“Go!” Twist said, and the lefties stormed down the stairwell. Twist tapped each one on the shoulder as if he were counting them off. Then he gestured to the Erin Elalese.

Two Breakers sat in the crenels on the eastern rampart. They dropped ropes over the parapet and disappeared so fast down them, they might have lost their grip on the lines. Shouts came from along the harbor wall—stone-skins calling a warning to their kinsmen in the tower. Too late, Ebon hoped. The next two Erin Elalese climbed to the battlements, but the prince didn't see them descend because one of the Revenants had nudged him forward. He turned back to the stairwell to see Twist vanish after the lefties. Two more mercenaries came next before Vale reached the top step.

Ebon took a breath and followed him down.

*   *   *

The sorcerous explosion sent Galantas staggering back against the port rail, and he grabbed the lower shrouds. One moment the air above the dragon was clear, the next it was filled with roots and dirt. Rocks as big as carts came crashing down around the beast, throwing up spray. Soil and pebbles pattered onto the
Fury
's decks, and a cloud of dust enveloped Galantas.

Earth-magic? Now Cayda was just showing off.

A fog settled on the sea behind the
Fury,
along with a blanket of leaves. Beneath the surface, the dragon was naught but a shadow. Dead? Unlikely with those impenetrable scales on its back. Doubtless it had merely been stunned by the deluge, which meant Galantas needed to put some distance between himself and the creature before it recovered. The
Fury
's flight had taken it on a westerly course away from Gilgamar, and Galantas shouted to Barnick to angle the ship closer to the northern shore. The waters would be shallower there, making it harder for the dragon to follow. Hopefully.

Qinta was at his shoulder. “What about the Needles?” he said.

Galantas had forgotten about Tub. The
Willow Reed
had been cut free of the Augeran vessel. The stone-skins were busy dousing the sails with water in order to better harness the meager wind from the west. The
Willow Reed,
by contrast, wallowed on the swell, its decks deserted. Either the crew had been butchered to a man, or any remaining souls were lying low. There was nothing to be gained by rushing to search for survivors, Galantas decided, especially with that dragon skulking in the water between the two ships. He had the lives of his own crew to consider, after all.

He climbed to the quarterdeck and swung his gaze east. Aside from the beast that had attacked the
Fury,
only four dragons were visible—no, make that five, for a monstrous copper head had just come roaring from the deep beside an Augeran galleon. Galantas whistled as the dragon rammed the ship beam-on, caving in the hull and driving the vessel back. Closer, a smaller red-scaled beast surfaced beside a two-decker. It lifted its tail from the sea and shattered the main yard with a clubbing blow. Screams sounded.

The ship's water-mage must have entered the fray at that moment, for the sea about the dragon churned and swirled. The beast was flipped over to expose its belly. A hail of arrows flashed out from the vessel, but the dragon had already sunk beneath the waves.

Galantas smiled. On Dragon Day the Storm Lords might give as good as they got, but the Augerans hadn't come equipped with the sorcerously invested weapons they would need to take down dragons. Their best chance at salvation lay in gaining Gilgamar's harbor, but what of the chains barring their way? Had the stone-skins in the city managed to cut a second one? It was impossible to tell from Galantas's vantage point, because the
Fury
's passage north and west meant his view of the Neck was obscured by the Chain Tower. But a count of the Augeran ships told him that none had yet entered the harbor. And why would they still be outside unless their way was blocked?