Chasing the Prophecy (Beyonders) (40 page)

Jason turned and watched Drake speaking with Nia, Heg, and Bat. Nia and Heg looked satisfied, and Bat looked overjoyed. The bravery of his smile left Jason resisting tears.

“How could we possibly show Bat how much we appreciate him?” Jason asked.

“We succeed,” Farfalee replied.

*  *  *

By the time the glowing streaks of sunset began to fade from the western clouds, Bat stood ready to jump. Several crates, barrels, and pallets had been collected to heave over the side with him. The little raft of planks he would use as a personal flotation device was larger than a paddleboard, and some impromptu carpentry had made it quite stable. He had food, gear for catching fish, and an improvised snorkel. And of course he had the two orantium spheres.

“Stay low,” Jasher cautioned. “Keep wreckage between yourself and the ship. Use the breathing tube to stay submerged whenever possible.”

“Don’t worry,” Bat said. “They won’t see me. I’ll get close enough not to miss. They’ll drown without knowing what happened.”

“We can’t have everyone crowding the rear of the ship to watch,” Aram said. “Certainly not until after Bat strikes. Dump your debris, then man your stations. Jason has been near the stern all day. He and Jasher will serve as lookouts. Until the explosion we can’t display excessive interest.”

“It’s time,” Farfalee said. “Swim safely, Bat. We are all indebted.”

Bat grinned. “Don’t thank me yet.”

Heg drew near and whispered something to Bat, who nodded and whispered something back. The two men gripped forearms. Bat looked eager.

“Positions,” Aram ordered, his voice deeper now that he had grown. Drinlings moved to both sides of the ship. Bat got ready, his floatation device in hand.

Jasher and Jason strolled to the rear of the ship.

Aram gave the command. Crates, barrels, pallets, and other
wooden fragments went over the side along with Bat. The ship was advancing at a good pace, thanks to the steady breeze, so it did not take long before Jason saw the debris trailing on the water. He tried not to stare at Bat’s flotation device.

The interceptor was closer than ever, not more than fifteen ship lengths behind. It would overtake the flotsam before long.

Jasher raised the spyglass, directing it at the ship, not the debris. “We’re being pursued by the
Avenger
,” he reported. “I can finally make out the name. Have a look.”

Jason accepted the spyglass. “Do we seem too interested?”

“We’ve been gazing at them all day. You in particular. They’ve almost caught us. It would seem more peculiar if we didn’t watch.”

Jason peered into the eyepiece. The light of the dying sunset barely let him read the name of the ship. “Hopefully, they won’t avenge anything today.”

“They think they have us,” Jasher said. “They’ve gained on us throughout the day. Lightening our load made us look desperate. They’re focused on us, not the debris. They’re prepping for battle. Making sure the pitch is hot, the catapults ready. Archers are stringing bows. Boarding parties are assembling. The captain is waiting to see what maneuver we’ll try.”

Once he lowered the spyglass, Jason had trouble spotting the debris. “Bat is closer to them than to us.”

“If only he can fight the currents enough to stay in their path,” Jasher said. “He just has to get close.”

“What if they catch him when they abandon ship?” Jason worried.

“It’s an additional risk he’s taking,” Jasher said. “If the
Avenger
founders, it should sail well past Bat before anybody gets in the water. He can keep low and swim tirelessly. They’ll have many more pressing matters to worry about. I like his chances of avoiding
our enemies. Making it to land should prove the tougher test. Watch it unfold through the spyglass.”

Jason did as he was told. He could see some activity on the deck. A man was climbing the rigging. He and Jasher watched in silence.

“Concentrate on the right side,” Jasher advised.

“You see him?”

“I think so. He’s close. Almost too close. Get ready for it.”

The explosion centered just above the waterline at the right front side of the ship. The bright flash sent wooden fragments flying. The percussive boom roared a moment later. Smoke bloomed upward. Once the view cleared, Jason saw a cave-sized hole.

“Yes!” Jason exclaimed. “He got—”

He was interrupted by a second explosion just above the waterline on the right side of the
Avenger
. He was viewing the explosion in profile, so it was a bad angle from which to appreciate the damage, but judging from the position of the detonation, the hole would have to be similar to the first.

Raucous cheering broke out aboard the
Valiant
. All pretenses abandoned, just about everyone crowded the stern, whooping and jeering and clapping. Bat’s name was chanted in unison.

It was impossible to see what exactly had happened to Bat, but the listing
Avenger
must have sailed well past him before it really started to wallow. Aram ordered a few drinlings back to their stations. As twilight deepened, everyone else stayed put to watch the
Avenger
sink.

CHAPTER
10

I
t’s an interceptor,” Aram said, lowering the spyglass and passing it to Jasher. Aram was short again, his voice pitched higher than at night. More than two days out from Durna, Jason, Nia, Jasher, and Aram huddled together at one side of the
Valiant
. Minutes before, a drinling high on the mainmast had spotted a ship on the eastern horizon.

“It’s on a course to intercept us,” Jasher said. “Of all the foul luck!”

“Don’t scold luck,” Aram said. “Word of the debacle in Durna must have traveled more swiftly than we imagined.”

“Maybe from displacer to displacer,” Jason guessed.

Aram grunted. “By displacer or eagle or gossiping fishwives, the word is out, and imperial vessels are checking the sea lanes away from Durna.”

“There are only two other interceptors in the whole Inland Sea!” Nia complained. “What are the chances?”

“Does it matter?” Aram replied. “One has found us. How do we respond?”

“How we deal with the interceptor is most vital in the short term,” Drake agreed, approaching the group alongside Farfalee.
“How they found us so quickly may matter more as time goes by.”

“We razed their waterfront,” Aram said. “They started looking hard. They found us.”

“Too quickly,” Drake said.

“Weren’t you the one predicting disaster?” Nia asked Drake.

“Only because I hate being wrong,” Drake replied. “Personally, I would much rather beat the odds and live. I expected travail, but not such early detection.”

“I haven’t let my eagles fly since the day before our rendezvous,” Farfalee reminded everyone.

“Could our foes have anticipated our destination?” Jasher asked. “Doesn’t seem likely. Sailors have avoided the sight of Windbreak Island for generations. Who could have leaked our intentions?”

“Impossible to guess,” Drake said. “But whatever we do about our visible pursuers, we should be braced for more. Our enemies must have uncovered our plans. In situations like this, I’m slow to credit coincidence.”

“What do you suggest?” Farfalee asked Aram.

“The wind is from the southeast. It will benefit both ships. Given our current positions, I expect we could evade the other interceptor and win a race to Windbreak Island. But the other ship will never lose sight of us. We’ll be trapped between the abominable guardian and the oncoming interceptor.”

“What if we engage them?” Jasher asked.

“You’re familiar with our armaments,” Aram said. He was referring to the miniature catapults—three on each side—poised to launch burning pitch. “The enemy ship will be similarly equipped. Most likely we would roast each other, which would serve the emperor fine.”

Jason winced. The prospect of combat aboard flaming ships with no land in sight was not appealing.

“We don’t just need to survive this,” Drake muttered. “We need to make it through virtually unscathed, or the rest of our efforts will be hobbled.”

“What about our orantium?” Jason asked.

“It’s our biggest advantage,” Farfalee agreed.

Jasher scowled in thought. “The problem becomes how to get close enough to deliver the explosives without taking fire ourselves.”

“Would the catapults fling orantium farther than pitch?” Jason wondered.

Drake shook his head. “Probably not much farther.”

“What if we moved a catapult to the bow and went straight at them?” Farfalee asked.

Aram shrugged. “Unconventional. Might catch them off guard. We might get off a few spheres before they could adjust. Once they adjusted, the maneuver would swiftly bring us into close range.”

“Orantium impacting the deck of the other ship would cause damage,” Jasher said. “But orantium against the hull near the waterline would sink them.”

Aram chuckled. “That would require quite a shot.”

“We want to hit them before they can hit us,” Nia said. “And it would be best to strike the hull near the waterline. Would losing some dead weight help us sail faster?”

“Only a little,” Aram said.

“We should run, but let them get close,” Nia replied. “I have a plan.”

*  *  *

Jason stood at the stern beside Farfalee, watching the interceptor gradually gaining on them, sails billowing in the breeze. The sun would set before long.

“They don’t seem to suspect anything,” Jason said. “They’re trailing straight behind us.”

“They assume we’re incompetent sailors,” Farfalee replied. “Getting directly between us and the breeze gives them a chance to steal wind from our sails and gain even more quickly. Aram is deliberately doing nothing to counter the tactic. And he doesn’t have us rigged for maximum efficiency.”

“How is Corinne?”

Farfalee shook her head sadly. “Green as ever. I had hoped that the larger vessel and calmer water would reduce her stomach problems. Not so.”

Jason nodded. Journeying southward last year, Corinne had been seasick all the way from the Silver River to the Durnese River aboard a drinling longship. Not an hour after coming aboard the
Valiant
, she had fallen ill again. She was currently in a cabin belowdecks. When Jason had visited, she had been flat on the floor, perspiring and moaning, a bucket at her side. He hadn’t stayed long.

Behind the
Valiant
and off to one side, a school of kitefish leaped from the water, more than a dozen in total. They looked like a cross between barracuda and manta rays, long bodies sporting wide, winglike fins. The kitefish sprang into the wind, triangular fins spread wide, gliding smoothly upward, then hanging suspended before plunging back into the water.

With nets and rods, several of the drinlings worked round the clock catching kitefish and other sea life. Drake had explained that because of the high salt content, only select species of fish could survive in the Inland Sea.

“Would kitefish attack people?” Jason asked. They looked large enough.

“They mostly prey on other fish and birds,” Farfalee answered.

“You don’t have anything like them in the ocean?”

“Not really.”

“I wonder where they came from,” Jason said. “If the Inland Sea is too salty for most fish, how did they get here in the first place?”

“Wizards,” Farfalee answered. “Anciently, this sea was lifeless. Using Edomic, wizards engineered fish that could withstand the intense salinity. Several species of bioluminescent seaweed, as well. The introduction of fish to the Inland Sea allowed for settlements to develop. Without the tampering of ancient wizards, there would be little life or industry here today.”

“It must have been hard for the wizards to create new life,” Jason said. “Rachel told me that living things resist Edomic.”

“Which is why very few wizards ever produced even simple life-forms. Only the most learned and powerful could engineer life, and only four or five ever managed to spawn what we would consider intelligent life.”

“Can Maldor do it?” Jason wondered.

“If so, we have seen little evidence. His supporters are culled from preexisting races. It required some skill to evolve a botched race into the manglers, but it was adaptation, not true creation. Maldor is both powerful and talented, but probably not yet skilled enough to truly produce his own life-forms.”