Prologue
We’ve got this
‘What’s that?’ Gwen stood by the railing of the ship, peering down at the night-dark sea below, sword in her hand.
Beyond her, on the horizon, the sun was rising. Silhouetted by the light, a flock of geese sputtered along, wheezing asthmatic protests against the dawn. The indigo sky had given way to porcelain, and the sleepy little harbour town was still.
It all seemed rather idyllic, really.
And yet, Gwen’s voice held the sharp, low competence it only had when she was getting ready to stab something.
Isobelle exchanged a quick glance with their captain, Henry. In truth, theElizabethwas his father’s ship, and he’d agreed to take them out in a fit of youthful rebellion after every other ship owner had looked at them like they were lacking in wits. Henry was now looking as though he was regretting his choices. Isobelle hurried over to join her champion.
It took her a moment to find her focus, but then she saw it. The deep blue beneath them was growing thetiniest bit deeper in shade; something was moving within it. Then the sea swelled, a ripple rising like blown glass into the watery morning light.
Isobelle grabbed at Gwen’s arm, for silhouetted through the displaced water was the creature they had come for.
Long, sinuous, serpentine.
‘You should have stayed ashore,’ Gwen whispered.
‘Nonsense,’ Isobelle whispered in reply, and then wondered why she was keeping her voice down. Surely it couldn’t hear them. ‘We’ve got this.’
The creature erupted into the sun, sending a great spray of seawater glittering into the air as it reared up. It was like a massive snake, easily as long as the ship, rising from the waves to grope about in search of prey. Coral red in the early light, its body was covered in strange, raised spots larger than dinner plates.
Gwen pulled her sword from its scabbard, and Isobelle skittered back to give her room to work, fumbling for the scroll borrowed from Lord Bingleton’s library and stowed in her belt. Her lady knight looked so slender, suddenly, in an unfamiliar leather breastplate – steel would drown her in an instant if she fell into the water – and for just the briefest moment, Isobelle wondered if thishadbeen a good idea.
She began scanning the scroll for mentions of sea serpents.
And then a second serpent – no, not a serpent, a secondtentacle– burst from beneath the water and swept around to slam straight into Gwen, lifting her high into the air.
Someone shrieked – possibly Isobelle – and she scrabbled at the scroll, while she prayed that the author of theGreate Bigge Guide to Beasteshad known what they were talking about.
‘It says—’ she began, but the words were drowned out by Gwen’s streak of curses as the thing waved her around like a cheerleader’s streamers at a tourney.
Isobelle adjusted her pitch and volume to that of a town crier and began again. ‘It says,’ she bellowed, ‘to aim for its mouth.’
Gwen careened sideways, no longer above the deck of the ship, but above the glittering expanse of water where the creature made its home. She did at least still have hold of her sword, which was truly admirable under the circumstances.
‘What?’ she screamed, though Isobelle wasn’t entirely sure whether the exclamation was due to an inability to hear, or disbelief.
‘Aim for the mouth!’ she shouted. ‘Between the teeth! Or …’ She squinted at the scroll. ‘Actually, I’m not sure theyareteeth …’
The suggestion was not well received.
‘Oh, sure, no problem,’ Gwen yelled back with agonising sarcasm, pausing as the great tentaclereversed direction and swung her around in a broad arc. ‘Just tell me where the fuck its mouth is, and I’ll get right on that. I—’
The monster plunged her beneath the waves, then lifted her once more, her body streaming water, both hands gripping the hilt of her sword. The dawn light rendered her golden, and even with her black locks plastered across her face, she looked magnificent, though her pale skin was perhaps a little green.
‘Henry,’ called Isobelle. ‘We may need to become involved.’ When their captain did not reply, she twisted her head to look for him. He was a handsome young man with brown skin the same shade as his ship’s timbers, but all that was visible of him right now was a shock of dark curly hair – he was hiding behind the ship’s wheel.
Above, Gwen braced herself against the fleshy, quivering band of red tentacle circling her body, and lifted her sword.
Then Gwen found her moment, and she swung.
The sound of her blade slicing through the great tentacle was an awful, squelchingshnnk. The severed limb released Gwen as both she and it flew through the air in a slow arc, and Isobelle heard herself screaming.
Gwen collided with the sail and began to slide down it – somehow she jabbed her sword through the fabric and hung on to it with both hands as a long, awful ripping sound slowed her descent.
