Seeing his fighting stance, the lantern-guard finally recognized what was happening, and his eyes went wide. He lunged forward, pushing the lantern toward Ian as his own makeshift weapon. “We are under—”
But he did not get a chance to finish his warning cry before Ian swung the block in his hand at the man’s head, knocking him out.
The man crumpled against the wall of the captain’s quarters, the lantern falling from his hand to the deck.
Ian had the mental clarity to leap backward as the glass-and-tin lantern split open upon contact with the deck, its flammable oil splashing over the dry wood.
Hungry flame instantly spread.
While his body registered the very scary reality of starting a fire onboard the ship, Ian also had the presence of mind to realize that the growing flames had created a blockade between him and most of the rest of the ship. That was good.
It gave him a moment to peer over the side of the railing and come face-to-face with Sol, who had just finished his climb. Ian wordlessly reached out his hand to help Sol swing over the railing onto the deck.
As the flames licked across the wood, Ian could see that Aizel, down to just one climbing tool, was still hanging on halfway up the side of the ship, looking up at them. Sol leaned over the edge, reaching as far down as he was able, and dropped one of the biters down to her.
Ian saw that she caught it and hoped she hadn’t grasped it from the metal-spike side.
“Go!” she yelled, low and quiet, as she adjusted her hand around the block to keep climbing.
Ian stood back up and turned away from the flames, facing the back of the ship. Shouts were coming from the front as people saw the fire. Fortunately, the flames were high enough now to block Ian and Sol from view, so no one else had yet discovered that the ship was under attack.
Grabbing Sol’s arm, Ian dragged him around the captain’s quarters. When they turned the corner to the back of the ship,they found a dozen men crouched against the stern. They were dressed in black-oiled armor, but their eyes, lit by the growing flames, peered at Sol and Ian with fear. Some of the men cowered while some leaned forward aggressively.
Then one man near the middle of the group stood, recognition on his face as he looked at Sol. The man opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
Sol stepped forward. “Deneb.”
The man, Deneb, held up his hands. A single, minuscule thread was looped around his wrists, tying them together. Confused, Ian watched as Sol reached for the string. A single twist from Deneb would be enough force to break it and free his hands.
But Sol, his fingers busy on the thread, revealed a single glass bead strung on the string.
Although he had not seen one himself, Ian recognized the bead as one of the ways in which Gareth stored chaos magic.
Holding the bead between two fingers, Sol hummed a low note. Ian almost missed the sound, but he could feel the low rumble of the note.
Sparks flew from the bead, almost like lightning. They bounced out, sparking against Deneb’s armor and hissing as they made contact with Sol’s wet clothing. Ian flinched involuntarily, though none of the sparks reached him. Neither Sol nor Deneb seemed bothered by them. After a few moments, the sparks sputtered into nothingness. Meena had described the process as Sol filling the glass with his own harmony magic, thus forcing the chaos out of the bead.
Sol dropped his hands from the bead and pulled a small knife from the belt at his waist, but by the time he had the knife free, Deneb had twisted his wrists and snapped the thread himself.
Sol lifted the knife to Deneb’s throat, anticipating the man’s next move.
Ian was again momentarily confused, until Deneb loosened his metal chestplate, tugging it away from his neck to reveal a glass gem tied around his throat.
While all this was happening, Ian kept his eye on the far side of the deck. Any moment someone would come around the captain’s quarters and discover them. Further out over the water, he could see the sails of the second ship. It was closer than he had expected. Someone over there would surely have noticed the flames and shouts by now.
Ian unstrapped the swords from his back.
Using his knife, Sol sliced the cord and let the gem fall free. That would be one of the muting necklaces Aizel had told them about. It was an ancient method the taskers used to silence the Majis, effectively cutting them off from their magic. Each of them were spelled so that anyone but the wearer could remove it. The chaos magic that bound their hands prevented them from removing each other’s muting gems, and the muting gems prevented them from releasing the chaos magic from the beads.
Realizing what was happening, the seated Majis started to stand, crowding around Sol and Deneb. Deneb instantly turned to the Majis next to him and started to repeat the process that Sol had done.
Ian looked around. The fire behind him was blazing now, and men were shouting from across the ship.
“How many are there?” Sol asked.
“Eight,” Deneb responded.
“And of you?” Sol asked.
