Scimitar War (45 page)

“I let you live when I could have killed you,” Emil seethed, his knuckles white on the hilt of his sword as he shook with rage. “I should have let Tim cut your throat.”

“But you didn’t, Count Norris. And now I hold the woman you love under my sword, and I
will
kill her if you take one step closer.” Parek backed up, pulling Camilla with him. The pain eased as he released his grip on her hair, and she heard the click of the front door latch. Parek had only to open the door and pull her through, and he was free. “See where your cowardice has brought you?”

Emil’s eyes filled with pain at the pirate’s words, and Camilla’s anger surged.

“It wasn’t cowardice, Parek,” Camilla said as she turned toward him, heedless of the fire across her neck as the cutlass scored her flesh. She looked up into his eyes, and let the rage flow up from her as it had before. “It was
honor
. Something no pirate will ever understand. But you were right about me; I don’t have any.”

“You wha—”

His eyes widened in shock as the dagger Huffington had pressed into her hand pierced Parek’s heart. The golden-hilted cutlass—Bloodwind’s sword—clattered to the floor, and he collapsed to his knees. She watched him as he stared in shock at the dagger protruding from his chest. The hilt twitched once, twice, then stilled, and he looked up into her face.

Slowly, the life faded from Parek’s eyes, and with it her rage and fear melted away.

She was not helpless, but she wasn’t a monster, either.

Chapter 31

Seas of Fire

The sky outside was just starting to lighten, and Mouse was fretting. He perched on the edge of Kloe’s crib, watching the baby just as Cynthia had told him to do. That was the problem; she’d told him to watch over Kloe, no matter what, then she’d sailed off to fight that burning city.

And left him here.

Mouse had never disobeyed Cynthia, but he didn’t like being left behind when he could help her. There were enough people here watching over Kloe, and there was only one Mouse to watch over Cynthia. He didn’t know what he could do to help her against Akrotia, but he knew that his place was with her.

He’d sat all night watching over Kloe and fretting about it. He’d watched as the nurse had come to feed the baby when he woke and cried, and he’d watched the babe fall back to sleep. He’d even watched when she came again to change a particularly smelly diaper.

The sun continued to rise, and he knew that Cynthia was facing the fight of her life. But she’d told him to stay and watch over Kloe.

And he had.

A thought came to the sprite as he remembered her exact words. “You stay and watch over Kloe, Mouse. No matter what.”

But she hadn’t said how
long
to watch over Kloe.

His ears perked up, and his wings shivered. A slow, mischievous smile spread across his little sprite features, and he made a decision. There was a time when a sprite had to do the sprite thing, no matter what!

He darted down, kissed the sleeping baby on the cheek, inhaled one last breath of that wondrous baby smell, then shot out the open window in a streak of gossamer and crystal dust.

≈

The first rays of sunlight touched Edan’s highest spires, and he felt the warmth melt into him, over his towers, across his archways, and down into his streets. He watched it brighten the darkness of the night, of the ocean…of his mind. But this morning something foreboding accompanied the sun’s rise. Like a cloying breeze that foreshadows a storm, an uncomfortable feeling crept through him, eliciting visions of ocean depths, smothering water, drowning, and he knew...

The seamage was coming.

Six ships appeared on the northern horizon, tiny triangles of white that grew as they approached. She was on one of those ships. She had come to destroy him, of that he was sure. Altogether, eleven warships, the seamage and the mer were arrayed against him.

Let them come
, the madness in him raged.
I’ll burn them all!

Edan pushed back the madness, but it was becoming harder to resist. The madness stirred his anger, and anger was better than fear. But if the anger or fear got out of control, he couldn’t think. He had to be more careful this time. Last time, they had hurt him. This time, he would hurt them. He would burn them…

Yes! Burn them one by one!

His thoughts came up short as a memory surfaced; Cynthia stepping off the side of a ship into the sea, vanishing below the waves for hours. He couldn’t burn her underwater. How could he lure her up where his fire could reach her?

Burn the ships, and she’ll come!

Yes, that might just work. Cynthia wouldn’t just stand by if he brought fire down on the warships. She’d intervene, and to do that, she’d have to come up out of the sea.

Out of the sea, where his fire could reach her.

≈

Akrotia dominated the horizon, the sails of Joslan’s armada like wisps of torn paper littering the sea beside it. Cynthia shuddered. She’d never thought to see it again, much less try to destroy it.

She rubbed her weary eyes and blinked. She’d expected to rest as
Resolute
made her way south from Tsing during the night, but sleep had eluded her. She had finally come up on deck and pulled a tendril of seawater up through the scupper. The contact calmed her, but now, in the day’s light, the sight of Akrotia set her stomach fluttering.

Henkle’s armada continued south, and finally joined Joslan’s force. Signal flags ran up and down as
Resolute
and
Indomitable
traded information. Cynthia drew a deep breath, but the proximity of Edan’s magic made it an effort. Slowly, she made her way to the quarterdeck.

“The admiral signals that all is ready, Mrs. Flaxal Brelak,” Commodore Henkle said, lowering his glass. “The battleships and frigates will engage as planned. The drakes will stand off to relay signals and offer assistance to any disabled ships.”

“I
can
read signal flags, Commodore, and I
do
remember the plan.” She cast him a tart look, then closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sorry. My nerves are wound tight right now. Might I borrow your glass? I’d like to look at Akrotia.”

“No apology necessary,” he said, handing over the glass. “I often forget that you’re a sailor in your own right.” He glanced sidelong at her. “Why do you continue to refer to the city as Akrotia, when the elves insist it should be called Edan?”

“To me, Commodore, Edan is a person,” she explained, squinting through the spyglass. “A scared young man who overcame his fear to help me rescue my child. I can’t think of the city as Edan. Not if I’m going to destroy it.”

“I see,” the commodore replied, though Cynthia doubted that he really did.

She focused the glass on the city. Its runes glowed with fire magic, wavering like mirages in the heat. She had lost so much to fire: her grandmother, her family estate,
Peggy’s Dream
, Plume Isle. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and the view in the glass quivered as her hands trembled. All the plans were set, all the ships and crews were ready, but it was up to her. She was the one who had to kill Edan.

I have to do this
, she reminded herself, leaning against a shroud to steady her hand.
If I don’t, more people will die, and Feldrin will grow old in prison
. She bit her lip and blinked away her suddenly blurred vision.

“I see the damage that Admiral Joslan reported.” She handed the glass back to Henkle. “That’s your target, Commodore.”

“Right.” He took the glass and raised it, surveying the damage. “Doesn’t look like much, but I can see a breach just above the waterline.”

“The bigger you can make that hole, the easier you’ll make it for me.”

“Yes, I
do
remember the plan, Mrs. Flaxal Brelak,” he said tartly, giving her a wry smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll do our job.”

“One thing you need to learn about women, Commodore, is that telling them not to worry is like telling water not to be wet, or fire not to be hot.”

“This may astound you, Madam, but I have been married for over twenty years.” He peered at Akrotia and said, “I learned that particular lesson very early on.”

Cynthia stared into the water, her mind filled with memories of flames, smoke and the face of a young man with fiery red hair. It was time. She absently worked the clasp of her belt and let her skirt drop to the deck.

“Lieutenant!” the commodore snapped, quickly doffing his jacket. “Your coat, if you please.”

Cynthia started as he rushed toward her, until she saw the sailors grinning and gawking at her immodesty. “Sorry, Commodore. I’m afraid pettiskirts are far too restricting in the water. I should have warned you.”

A blushing young lieutenant also took off his jacket, and the two men held them like a makeshift curtain, eyes carefully averted, while she stepped out of her skirt and pettiskirts. Cynthia nearly laughed out loud at the inanity of it all; they were all about to risk their lives battling a great floating, flaming city, and yet the sight of her in only a chemise provoked this ridiculous act of chivalry.

“Thank you, Commodore. Please signal the admiral to begin the attack.”

“Good luck, ma’am,” Henkle said, turning to meet her eyes.

“Just hit the target, Commodore.” She turned and stepped into the sea.

Immediately, mer swirled around her in a wall of glittering scales, and the water reverberated with their thrums of greetings. The school extended as far as she could see. Tailwalker had told her that every able adult had come; only those caring for finlings had remained at home. She was grateful; they would need every advantage they could get, and nearly a thousand mer was a formidable force.

Cynthia sent out a gentle pulse of sound, and a tight knot of mer peeled away from the school and snapped to a halt in front of her.

*Greetings, Seamage Flaxal Brelak,* Broadtail signed, sweeping his trident in a broad arc. *We are ready to do battle with Akrotia! The iron hooks have been moved as you directed, to just below the breach in Akrotia’s hull. Half the school will haul on the cables to impede Akrotia’s movement; Tailwalker is their leader. I will lead the rest in aid of the landwalker warships. Chaser and Shelly will stay with you to relay messages between us.*

*Good. Thank you, Trident Holder. Your aid will save many lives. Make sure all the mer know that they must watch out for falling debris.*

*They have already been informed, Seamage Flaxal Brelak,* he signed.

*Good.* She reached out with her senses and felt the ships as they maneuvered into attack formation. Further away, the water churning over Akrotia’s hull lessened; the city had slowed. *It is time to begin, Trident Holder. Let us go.*

The trident holder gestured and the school broke up, half swimming toward Akrotia with Tailwalker at the fore, the others vanishing in the direction of the fleet with Broadtail. Cynthia urged the sea to aid her and surged toward Akrotia, Chaser and Shelly swimming alongside.

The water here in the deep was startlingly clear, and the city coalesced from the distant blue like a great, dark storm cloud blotting out the sky. She gaped up at graceful spires, grottos, open corridors, and twisting tunnels though which finlings could swim and play. Outcroppings of coral marred the gentle lines, but even so, she understood the elves’ reluctance to destroy such a creation.

Chaser and Shelly led her past where the mer massed at the long cables. Hundreds of them clutched each cable, ready to swim counter to Akrotia’s movements. Chaser touched her arm and motioned toward an inverted tower that passed by a few yards away. Eddies of warm water swirled around her with its passage.

Akrotia had begun to rotate.

*This is what it did when the trident holder tried to trap it near the landwalker city with the big rock,* Chaser explained. *It spun to break the cables, and to thwart the warships’ attack. They cannot strike the same spot if it turns.*

*That is the problem of the leader of the ships,* Cynthia signed. *It cannot spin fast enough to avoid me.*

She followed Chaser and Shelly under the structure to a position exactly opposite the hull breach. This was where she would do her damage to unbalance Akrotia.

At least, that was the plan.

She urged the sea to push her along with Akrotia’s rotation, maintaining her position relative to the city, then turned to Chaser and signed, *Ready?*

*We are ready, Seamage Flaxal Brelak,* he signed, motioning to Shelly. The two mer flipped their tails and retreated to a safe distance.

Cynthia picked out a spire to be her first target. Edan’s magic was a burning pressure in her mind, and she had to force herself to concentrate. She called to the sea and sent out a crushing pressure wave. The wave hammered against the spire, and Akrotia shook. Shattered coral and shell clouded the water, but as the debris cleared, she saw that the stone was undamaged.

Damn! This is going to be harder than I thought
. She had hoped the stonework would prove more fragile. Again she drew on the sea’s power, pulling it into a spear of pressure, compressing it until she trembled with the strain, then sent it lancing at the spire.

The spire quivered like a tuning fork with the impact, and another cloud of shattered shell and coral rained down. Her hope began to falter, then the crack of shattering stone reached her ears, and the spire broke away. It plunged down into the depths, vanishing from sight within seconds.

That’s a start
, she thought as she chose a graceful arch as her next target. It looked considerably more fragile than the spire, and breaking it would also weaken the adjoining structures. She focused another spear of pressure; already, she was shaking. She hoped the ships would be able to enlarge the breach quickly. She wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long.

≈

Indomitable
’s hull reverberated like a great drum, and Admiral Joslan shuddered with a tremor of worry. The seamage was wielding her magic. He muttered an oath, hoping that the emperor’s trust in this woman wasn’t misplaced. If she turned that power against his ships, there was nothing he could do to stop her. The ship shook again.

“She’s started her attack, Captain.” Joslan said unnecessarily. He glanced up at the sparse rigging; all the yards had been struck down, leaving only jibs and staysails. This would decrease their windage, should the pyromage wield the winds against them, while allowing them to sail closer to the wind. Little speed could be coaxed from so few sails, but for that they were relying on the backs of the men on the sweeps. “Signal the fleet. Attack groups to diverge now. Ready the catapult, and start wetting her down.”

“Aye, aye, Admiral!” The captain fired off orders and flags fluttered aloft.