But thank fuck she was smart enough to think ahead, to learn from our past mistakes, and make sure we'd be prepared for situations like this. It's just one more reason why she's the most incredible woman in all the realms.
The silver-colored sails billow overhead, straining against the wind as the ship surges forward, cutting through the waves like a knife. The salty spray stings my face, tang, sharp, and bracing on my tongue as I take a deep, lungful breath of ocean air.
I'm standing at the very point of the ship, the wind whipping through my hair and tugging at my clothes as we race across the open sea. Behind me, I can hear the rhythmic rasp of Erik's whetstone against his blade, the sound as familiar and comforting as a lullaby.
Gideon is at the helm, his weathered hands steady on the wheel as he guides us through the choppy waters. But something catches my eye behind him, a flicker of movement that has me squinting against the sun's glare.
I leap up onto the rigging, and there, on the horizon, I see it—a line of ships, their black sails stark against the endless blue of the sky. And on those sails, a green serpent coiling out of a bleached white skull, the emblem stark and menacing.
"Captain!" I shout down from my perch, my voice cracking like a whip over the roar of the wind and the sea. "Behind you!"
Gideon spins around, his eyes widening as he sees the approaching ships. His face drains of color, and his skin goes pale beneath his tan.
"Hoist the other sails, ye scurvy dogs!" he bellows, his voice booming across the deck like a cannon shot. "We need more speed, and we need it now!"
I leap from the rigging, crouching on the deck before sprinting up to the helm, my boots pounding against the salt-stained wood.
"What the fuck is going on?" I demand, my voice low and urgent. "Who are they? Friends of yours?"
Gideon shakes his head, his expression grim. "Nay, lad. That be Captain Thalassia Viper and her Serpent Skulls. And trust me when I say, she be no friend of ours."
I clench my jaw, my hands balling into fists at my sides as I stare at the approaching ships, their black sails growing larger with every passing second. The wind howls in my ears, almost drowning out the frantic pounding of my heartbeat.
But beneath the fear, dread, and uncertainty, I feel something else stirring in my chest—a flicker of excitement, anticipation, and the thrill that comes with facing down a worthy foe.
I'm moving before I realize it, my boots pounding against the deck as I race to help hoist the other sails. The fucking pirates are moving like molasses, their fingers clumsy and slow on the rigging, and I know we don't have a second to waste.
I grab a rope, my muscles straining as I haul on it with all my strength. Beside me, Erik is doing the same, his face set in a grim mask of determination as we work together to get this floating tub of shit moving faster.
They're gaining on us, the sleek black vessels cutting through the waves like a pack of hungry wolves, their sails straining against the wind. I can see the glint of sunlight on metal and the flash of cannon ports being opened and primed for firing.
Fuck!
We're sitting ducks out here, our ass flapping in the breeze like a goddamn flag. What kind of water magic fuckery do these bastards have up their sleeves to be gaining on us so damn fast?
Gideon's voice cracks like a whip across the deck, sharp and urgent. "Load up the cannons, ye poxy bilge rats! Prepare to fire!"
The pirates scatter like rats, some diving below deck to man the cannons while others scramble up the rigging to the topside guns. I can hear the clang and clatter of cannonballs being loaded, the grunts and curses of men straining to haul the heavy iron spheres into place.
Gideon spins the helm hard to the right, the muscles in his arms bulging as he wrenches the ship in a stomach-churning turn. The deck tilts beneath my feet, and I go flying, my body slamming into a stack of barrels and crates with a bone-jarring thud.
I'm up again instantly, my reflexes as sharp as ever despite the ringing in my ears and the ache in my ribs. I can see the Serpent ships bearing down on us, their hulls painted with leering skulls and twisting serpents, their cannons aimed straight at our hearts.
And then, with a roar that shakes the very timbers of the ship, they open fire.
The air splits with the sound of cannon shots, the acrid stench of gunpowder filling my nostrils as the iron balls hurtle toward us like meteors from the heavens. I hear the splintering of wood and the screams of men as shrapnel rips through flesh and bone, and I drop to the deck on instinct, covering my head with my arms.
As much as it fucking galls me, wood is still a vampire's weakness, and I can't afford to be skewered like a goddamn pig on a spit.
So I grit my teeth and hug the blood-slicked planks, my ears ringing with the thunder of cannons and the howl of the wind. The ship shudders and groans around me, the wood creaking like the bones of some ancient, dying beast, and I know we're in for the fight of our fucking lives.
Danica
24
The plan is set. Emily and Sable will play Hogwarts and help Emily level up her magical girl powers while Lucian and I take a little interdimensional road trip back to Aquaria. Apparently, my apartment is now Fort Knox, thanks to some hardcore protection spells that will fry any unwanted visitors like a bucket of extra crispy KFC.
But here's where things get a little wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey. Turns out, my little jaunt in Aquaria was, in fact, five or so days in the mortal world, whereas my Luminara vacation had time speeding up like it was on a cocaine bender. Time here and time in Aquaria is linear.
