Beyond the lattice of lines and sails and the wreckage ofDrake, a massive, dark-purple light bubbled between the ships of the Mereish Fleet.
Dread assailed me.Something large was trying to break through from the Other, and, with the veil as thin as it was, I doubted it would be long before it succeeded.Whether it yielded to a Mereish Summoner or came of its own accord, I had little doubt it would be dangerous.
“See Mr.Pitten secured below,” I said to Benedict, then made my way to the rail looking midships.“Hear me!We will take no one aboard fromDrake, we can risk no saboteurs.Mr.Penn!Organize a search of the hold, we may have more stowaways aboard.Mr.Keo, take us south.”
My orders were being executed before I finished issuing them.As we slipped carefully through the battle, navigating the other ships and entering more open waters, I drew my spyglass and trained it back on that roiling, purple light.I glimpsed two Sooths on the deck of a Mereish ship next to the anomaly, a brownish hedge to the forest green of their lights.
Sooths, but Adjacent.Summoners.
“Ms.Poverly.”The girl had frozen at my side, transfixed by one sight or another.I placed my coin in her palm.“I must go into the Other.Give this back to me in three minutes and ensure I hold on to it, do you understand?Do you have a pocket watch?”
Poverly nodded fervently.She looked less frightened than I anticipated, more overwhelmed and grateful for a task.She held the coin in one hand and took her watch in the other, then hovered close as I took the quarterdeck rail in both hands and lowered my head.
The Other leapt up to swallow me.The fleets thinned, becoming little more than reflections of ghisting-inhabited wood and magelights.The lights of Otherborn beasts between—and occasionally on—the vessels doubled.
I focused on the bruised purple light.I saw the creature here, whole and manifest as it hovered, shuddering through the paper-thin wall between the worlds.
The beast was like none I had ever seen.It swept into the water and rose again on broad, avian wings—though its feathers had the texture of seaweed, rippling with water and slung from a thin frame of raw bone.Its head was capped by an eyeless skull and a long, vicious beak, and its legs ended in talons longer than boarding pikes.
I watched it strain at the barrier for a breath, debating my course of action.The Mereish Summoners clearly intended to use the beast against the Aeadine—but should I try to stop them, or allow the beast through and turn it back on the Mereish?If I pitted my strength against the Mereish mages, could I win?
Something skimmed past my cheek.I turned as it passed and, in my mind’s eye, saw a musket ball.Shock, then a spike of fear stabbed through me.
Someone had shot at me, but not in the human world.
In the Other.
I dropped into a crouch behind the rail just as another shot slammed into it.The ghisten wood, present in both realms, swallowed the ball like living flesh.No crack, no shatter.No splinters.
There, across the water, I saw one of the Mereish Summoners had turned to me.A long rifle rested against her shoulder as she lined up for a third shot.
I barely registered the faint glow of her weapon—radiant as ghisten wood—before the great winged beast finally tore fully into the human world.It faded to a glow, a reflection like the hundreds of other beasts and mages scattered across the fleet.I saw that glowdescend on an Aeadine ship, its brightness vibrating as claws raked the deck and shredded rigging.
Another shot struck the rail behind me and my mind stuttered, threatening to blank.Only one thought took root in that thunder of heartbeats and roar of blood in my ears.More lights were converging on me, and I had no idea how many of them answered the will of a Mereish Summoner.My chances of stopping the beasts—particularly the winged one now terrorizing the fleet—were slim.
I needed a weapon of my own.
FIFTY-THREE
Fates Worse Than Death
MARY
The remaining two Stormsingers were gathered in Solace’s grand cabin, one of the few compartments whose walls had not been taken down for action.Now that it was not packed with figures, I could see that the room was lavish, with cases of books and drapes of velvet, rugs on the floor and ornate lanterns fixed to the beams, though none were now lit.
The door to the stern balcony stood open between the gallery windows, filling the cabin with damp, smoke-thick air.We clustered before it, watched by half a dozen, hopefully trustworthy, marines, led by a midshipman barely older than sixteen.Evidentially we were expected to continue our tasks, despite the threat of assassination, sabotaged ships, limited line of sight and no new instructions.
The midshipman, for his part, turned away to drink from a flask and avoided the prompting looks of everyone in the room.His hands shook, and there was blood on his face.I might have felt pity for him, had all our lives not been in jeopardy.
“What are we to do?”I finally demanded, interrupting the boy’s poor attempt at discreetly intoxicating himself.
“We will remain here until the threat has passed,” he rattled out, dropping the flask to his side.His cheeks flushed in shame as he heard the quaver in his own voice.“Carry on.”
“With what?We can hardly see,” Elsher snapped.
“They’re trying to kill us!”the young Stormsinger said.Her terror was a baffled thing, all wide eyes and shaking hands.She had a bandaged arm and numerous cuts, including one on her face that sluiced crimson down her throat and soaked her shirt.
Elsher and the midshipman descended into a short, heated confrontation, he delivering vague instruction and she countering.It was growing rapidly clear that the boy had little concept of the situation or what to do about it.
