She finally backed down as she lifted up a corner of her cloak and the weather instantly calmed. “I will see you to the bottom of this ocean before all is said and done.”
“And I’ll make sure to take your heart along with me.” He plucked the feathers his spell required and handed them off to Mara.
When Strixa opened her mouth to speak again, he used his powers to transform her back into her black owl form. “How ’bout you remain like this for a bit. Safer for us all, I think.”
She let out a fierce shriek as she flew to land on the ship’s railing so that she could glare at him with her glowing red eyes.
William cleared his throat to get Devyl’s attention. “Beg pardon, Captain. Can’t help wondering if taunting her isn’t a bit foolish? Most especially given our current situation?”
“Of course it is, Mr. Death. Why else would I be about it? Where would be the fun of practicing caution and intelligence? If we’re bound for hell again, let it be with full sail and flagrant disregard of all sanity, I say.”
William let out a nervous laugh as he turned toward the crew. “Who is with me for a mutiny, eh?”
Bart clapped him on the back. “I’d say aye, but the captain scares me too much.”
“Aye to that,” Zumari agreed. “Besides, he’d take too much pleasure in eating our entrails. Methinks he’s the only captain alive—or dead—who craves a mutiny.”
“Would definitely explain some of his more peculiar actions,” Bart muttered before he cast an exaggerated grin toward Devyl. “Don’t know why I said that, Captain. Must be the witch a’witching my tongue.”
Devyl rolled his eyes at the sorry lot of them. “Sure of that.” His tone carried the full weight of his sarcasm.
“So what’s with the feathers?” Kalder picked one up from the deck to hand it to Devyl. “Not sure why it was worth the risk of attracting the witch’s notice for so paltry a thing.”
Before Devyl could answer, it was Belle who stepped forward and volunteered it. “Why, Mr. Dupree, ye might be able to swim with the fishes, but with what you have in your hand, the rest of us can fly with the birds.”
“Pardon?”
Devyl nodded. “With those … we can cast a spell that will grant us flight. Forget relying on the winds to find your Miss Jack. We’re going airborne to get to her. And this time, they won’t be able to stop us from taking her back.”
17
“He doesn’t love you. You have to know that his kind is incapable of comprehending what you think of as love. It’s beyond their ability.”
Mara ignored Strixa’s words as she went over the map in Du’s room while waiting on him to join her there. “You know nothing about him.”
Still in her owl form, she pinned those creepy red eyes on Mara. “I know his kind. As do you. They only value the goal and their people. You are a pawn to get what he wants. Worse? You’re his enemy.”
“And you are a troublemaker.” Mara picked up Du’s baldric from where he’d left it, draped across his chair. Hand-carved with intricate Celtic scrollwork, it was a piece of exquisite beauty. And a lot heavier than it appeared. Gracious! No wonder the man was so muscular, wearing things that weighed so much. “I won’t allow you to come between us.”
Strixa shook her fowl head. “I’m not the one who will come between you. He doesn’t need my help in that. You two have broken a cardinal rule. Think you you’ll be left alone to live in peace?”
That was honestly what she feared most. But she refused to show it to the creature. “I know what you’re about and it’s not working.”
Yet in spite of her denials, it was, and she suspected the witch knew it as well as she did. Returning the baldric to the chair, Mara swallowed hard. Even if Du’s flying spell worked, they still had a ways to go to get to the islands that made up the Quella.
Antillia shouldn’t be that hard to get past … especially if they weren’t in the water. It was policed by a group of fairymaids who were known to lure sailors to their deaths. They haunted the shoreline caves and rocks where they would call out for help, and when the unwary tried to lend a hand, the fey creatures would drown them. But so long as they didn’t wreck the ship or find themselves forced to land near Antillia, nothing would happen. The fairymaids shouldn’t come near them.
Of course, if they were flying it would put them directly in the path of the dragon clans who called Jesirat al-Tennyn home. In fact, that was what the island’s name translated to—Dragon’s Isle. Those vicious, bloodthirsty clans were highly territorial and wouldn’t take kindly to anyone venturing near their lands. They barely tolerated one another.
Humans were seen as nothing more than snack food.
Then they’d have to get past Satanazes—the demon island that was nestled close enough they’d have to approach it from the sea. Some twenty leagues west of Antillia, it would be directly in their path and would be tricky, as demons always were. A mist covered the island and shielded their presence. Some claimed the mist itself was a demon.
The only ones who knew for certain were the unfortunate victims who’d been eaten or enslaved by the island’s inhabitants. And none of them ever escaped to tell others what happened there.
As for the Meropis island, rumors claimed it was inhabited by flesh-eating, soul-sucking creatures who preyed on any dumb enough to venture there. They were worse than even the demons, and were said to be far more unholy.
Crueler.
