A short distance away, a lioness pulled her attention awayfrom the escaped hyena to see Isaac standing over her fallen comrade.Sheroared at him, loud enough for him to feel it in his chest, rushing with acurved sword.Isaac had no proficiency in martial weapons, so he immediatelydropped the mace and cast a spell.
The pirate reached him just as bolts of ice flew from thetips of his fingers.With his hand shaking in exhaustion, two of the boltssailed wide, but the other three managed to catch the lioness squarely in thechest, piercing through the leather breastplate and shattering into shards.Shegasped, feline eyes going wide.The pull of her lungs only stabbed the icedeeper.She stumbled, still lurching ahead, and, for just a moment, Isaacfeared she would manage to gut him with her sword—instead, she tried to liftthe blade, coughed up blood, and collapsed into the sand, groaning and choking.
Isaac fell beside her.His body was completely spent, and hehovered on the edge of oblivion.For a while, all he could feel was the sand onhis face and the heat of the sun on his back.
Slowly, he became aware that the sounds of fighting hadstopped.
He lifted his head.The female hyena—the escapedprisoner—stood alone amongst a pool of bodies, leaning her poleaxe into thesand as she fought for breath.Her spotted fur was covered in blood.After afew heaves of her chest, she stood up to her full height, wiping her face witha leather pauldron, her muscular form outlined by the fires of the broken ship.A moment later, she raised her arm and began to bite at the shackle stillclasped around her wrist, teasing and nipping at the metal like a wild animalgnawing at carrion.
Isaac watched her work at her former restraints, his bodyhalf-buried in the sand.Once again, he tried to keep as still as possible.This beastwoman had almost singlehandedly killed the rest of the pirates, andhe did not want to become part of her rampage.She bit and tore at her wrist,furiously working the metal, her lip curling with every snap of her snout.Isaac attempted to reach into his pack.
The movement caught her eye.
All at once, she turned, looking directly at him.Isaac mether gaze.She lowered her jaws from her manacles, studying him.He watched herback, unable to do much else.For a long moment, the only sound was the roar ofa dozen burning fires.
She hefted her poleaxe and began to walk his way.
Isaac tried to stand.His legs were completely limp.It feltlike manipulating a puppet.The massive hyena never changed her pace as hedesperately struggled back to his feet.
“Human!”
Isaac managed to reach his knees.
“Yield!”she called out.“I’ll show mercy!”
Isaac grabbed the mace from the sand.It was enormouslyheavy, far heavier than his books had ever implied.He could hardly keep itsteady in his hands.
The hyena flashed a hint of teeth.It might have been asmile.“Come now.You can barely stand.”
Isaac could barely grip the mace’s haft through the sweatand grit in his hands.The heat of the sand had blistered much of his skin.Asthe zoanthrope drew closer, he began to realize that she had at least two headsof height above his own, along with the musculature and stamina endemic to herbreed of people.She could likely gut him with the tipped spear of her poleaxebefore he even thought of lifting his mace.
She slowed her walk, stopping just out of reach.Her brown,slitted eyes seemed to regard the weapon in his hand.Her teeth flashed again,and he was now sure that it was, indeed, a smile.
“You ever held one of those before?”she asked, amused.
Isaac could only breathe, trying not to collapse.
Her amusement faded.“Don’t throw your life away, human.That mace ain’t your cock.Don’t swing it where it don’t belong.”
Isaac blew hair from his eye.
“Yield,” she said.
“No,” Isaac replied.“Never.”
She blew a breath through her nose, the fires of her formership burning behind her.Embers drifted down past her bloodied mohawk,reflecting in her eyes.With a quiet sigh, she shifted her axe, steppingforward.
Isaac swung the mace.It clashed off the haftof her weapon, splintering the wood.She heaved her poleaxe, shunting it up,ending the cross with a burst of strength.Isaac stumbled back, nearly twistinghis ankle in the sand, desperately trying to renew his stance.
The last thing he saw was the haftof her polearm flying towards his face.
ChapterTwo
Vulture
He woke with the sun beating on his brow.
Vision came.The colors of sand and sky condensed intodetail.As Isaac took a few aching blinks of his eye, he saw his own pack lyinga short distance from his feet.The linen flap was flung open, and the contentswere scattered across the sand—phials and phylacteries, maps etched withcharcoal, language ciphers, empty waterskins, and the last remnants of hismeager rations.He had not been carrying much, and whoever had gone through hissupplies hadn’t seemed interested in what he did possess.
