If things went badly, she might never make it home to Lorindar. She would never see her son or husband again. She would die here, alone and forgotten. Abandoned, as Morveren had been.
Morveren. This was her song, her sorrow and grief. Danielle was too close. Even with her ears plugged, the song overpowered her. She struggled to climb out of the boat, but her muscles wouldn’t obey.
“Morveren, stop.” Either Danielle’s words were too weak or Morveren couldn’t hear over her song. Danielle fell to the side, banging her shoulder on the bench before toppling into the bottom of the boat.
Snow closed her eyes, feeling the magic of Morveren’s song as it swept past her. In some respects, it reminded Snow of a trick her mother used to use, forcing power into her voice in order to command obedience. Morveren’s power was both broader and more focused. Even with her ears plugged, Snow could feel the song tightening its grip on her.
Snow smiled and set about crafting her own magic. As a child, she had learned to resist her mother’s commands. She had concealed that power, obeying at all times so her mother wouldn’t learn of her rebellion. But she obeyed by choice, not because she was forced to. It might have been a meaningless distinction, but to a little girl, it was an important one.
She whispered one of her earliest shielding spells, repeating the simple singsong rhymes she had devised as a young child.
“Gray stones, gray stones,
hear my call.
Gray stones build a
great big wall.
Build it high as the clouds I see.
Build it strong as strong can be.”
The stones of the spell were from her bedroom; the clouds were her only view through the high, narrow window in her wall. On those nights her mother worked magic, Snow would lie awake, fighting off the nightmare sensations of that power. She hadn’t understood what it was she felt, only that it was dark and wrong and hungry and that it would consume her if she dropped her guard.
As when she was a child, she imagined those stones leaping forth in rows, stacking one upon the other until they formed a barrier between herself and Morveren. She opened her eyes to find Lannadae staring at her, so close their noses almost touched.
“I’m all right,” Snow said. Lannadae didn’t seem to be affected, but the other humans sat stupefied.
“If she stops singing now, the Hiladi will come after us,” Lannadae shouted. “They know we’re here, but they shouldn’t be able to do anything so long as the song continues.”
“I understand.” Snow considered trying to expand her spell to protect Talia and Danielle, but that would require too much time. With a grin, she grabbed Danielle beneath the arms and hauled her up onto the bench. The cutter rocked dangerously, nearly dumping them both overboard, but she managed to recover.
“Sorry, Princess.” With that, Snow tossed Danielle overboard.
Danielle splashed to the surface. “What are you doing?”
Oh, good. She had hoped the water would muffle Morveren’s song enough to weaken the spell. To Lannadae, she said, “Help me with Talia?”
Talia had been grouchy ever since learning Snow had hidden Lannadae’s existence. So it was with a certain degree of pleasure that Snow dumped her overboard after Danielle.
“Help them swim,” Snow said. Danielle wasn’t a terribly strong swimmer, and every time she and Talia surfaced, they had to fight Morveren’s song.
Lannadae slipped into the water, grabbing Danielle’s left hand and Talia’s right. Her gills flared open, and her powerful tails propelled them toward the Hiladi ship, leaving Snow struggling to catch up. By the time they passed the
Phillipa,
Danielle and Talia seemed free of Morveren’s spell. Snow risked lowering her own shield. She could still feel Morveren’s magic, but the wormwax blocked enough of the sound for her to ignore it.
The air spirits were also unaffected. They continued to blow, rotating the
Phillipa
away from the Hiladi ship. The wind made swimming much more difficult, as the waves battered Snow back toward the
Phillipa.
Lannadae helped the others to reach the Hiladi ship, then returned to pull Snow along.
Talia had drawn two of her knives. Where did she keep them all, anyway? Talia slammed one into the side of the ship, pulled herself up, then drove the other home. She shifted her weight and pried the first knife free. Hand over hand, she scaled the side of the ship.
Snow turned around to study the damage to the
Phillipa
. The railing had been shattered in three places, and one of the cannons was gone. Several holes punctured the side of the hull. They had torn some of the rigging as well.
“What about the rope from the cutter?” Danielle shouted, cupping her hands to her mouth. “Could we use that to climb?”
Snow shook her head. “That rope’s old and wet. Even if you could hold on, I wouldn’t trust its strength.”
Lannadae bent double. Her tails kicked air, and then she disappeared into the darkness of the water. Snow searched to see where she had gone.
Moments later, Lannadae shot up from the waves. She didn’t clear the side of the ship as Lirea had done, but she flew high enough to catch hold of the railing. She swung from side to side until she hooked a tail over the rail. From there, it was a simple matter to pull herself onto the ship. A rope soon tumbled down into the water.
Snow smiled and began to climb. She stopped beside Talia to say, “Don’t take too long. Morveren can’t sing forever.”
Danielle was next up, and then Talia reached over to take the rope. She yanked her knives from the ship with a scowl, tucking them back into their sheaths before scrambling up the side.
The crew weren’t moving. Many sat on the deck their heads bowed, weeping. A smaller group stood at the edge of the ship, peering longingly toward Morveren. They wore typical Hiladi garb in fiery colors. Beaded black cords secured billowing sleeves at the elbows and wrists. Broad, flat hats protected them from the sun. Snow grabbed one and tried it on, then tossed it aside. Too sweaty, and far less stylish than her tricorn back on the
Phillipa
.
Splintered wood covered part of the deck, proof that the
Phillipa
had fought back despite her disadvantages.
Snow turned slowly, fingers brushing her choker as she drew on the mirrors to enhance her vision. There was magic on this ship. Not as strong as the enchantments on the
Phillipa,
but still respectable. There . . . a spell carved into the mainmast to protect it. Another woven into the wheel to enhance the strength of the helmsman.
Talia and Danielle were arguing about what to do first, but Snow was more interested in the ship’s spells. She had never studied Hiladi magic before. Most appeared to be runic in nature, like the characters embroidered along the edge of the sheets to give them strength. To undo the spell would require hours of careful work, but there were alternatives.
“What are you doing?” Lannadae asked.
“Playing.” Snow smiled as she traced new symbols in the air. Painting them directly onto the sails would have been better. Casting with only her fingers meant the spell would be easy to remove . . . but first they would have to find it. How long would it take for the Hiladi to realize their sails had a flavor, one the rats should find particularly appetizing?
“Come on,” Snow said. “Let’s see what we can do with their navigation equipment.”
Having reached the ship, Danielle wasn’t sure how to best disable their attackers. Talia had no such problems. Knife in hand, Talia approached the closest sailor.
“Wait!”
Either the plugs of wormwax in Talia’s ears kept her from hearing, or else she simply chose not to. Danielle hurried to catch her arm.
Talia spun, nearly cutting Danielle before she stopped herself. “Sorry,” she mouthed.
“They’re helpless,” Danielle shouted, pointing to the crew. “You can’t just kill them.”
“They meant to kill us, remember? Your duty is to your people, Princess.”
Between the wormwax and Morveren’s song, Danielle had to watch the shape of Talia’s mouth to make out what she was saying. “Not like this. We can cut the ropes and disable the cannons.”
“We don’t have time to be civilized.”
Snow had already wandered off. She appeared to be casting some sort of spell on the mainsail. So far, the crew hadn’t even acknowledged their presence. A few glanced up, but not one managed so much as a frown before Morveren’s voice lured them back under the mermaid’s spell. Some were barely more than children, the soft fuzz on their chins the closest they could come to the beards worn by the older men.
“No,” said Danielle. “Cripple the ship, but leave the crew alone.”
Talia shook her head, but put her knife away. “If Morveren’s song fails, they’ll kill us all.”
“And if you start killing them, that might be enough to break Morveren’s hold.” Danielle drew her sword. The enchanted glass blade cut easily through the ropes behind her. A few more swings sent lines snapping back across the ship. She crossed the deck and raised her sword.
Talia caught her arm and pulled hard enough to throw Danielle to the deck.
“Do you even know what you’re destroying?” Talia pointed upward to a yard that now hung at a dangerous angle. “Cut those ties, and you’ll likely kill us both when the topsail yard comes crashing down.”
Danielle stood, her heart pounding. She brushed black sand from her palms and clothes. The sand covered most of the deck. “Thank you.”
Talia was already storming toward the ladder to the gundeck. A man stood enthralled beside the ladder. Talia knocked him out of the way, bloodying his nose before dropping him to the deck, unconscious.
Talia had never been a cheerful woman, but Danielle had never seen her like this. She was hurting, that much anyone could see. She was still punishing herself for what had happened to Beatrice. But any time Danielle had tried to talk to her, Talia brushed her aside. Beatrice was the only one who could get through to Talia when she was this upset.
What would happen to them if Beatrice didn’t recover? Officially, both Snow and Talia were personal servants of the queen. Danielle could have them reassigned to herself, but she could never take Bea’s place.
Pushing such thoughts aside, Danielle hurried to the back of the ship and cut the ropes that connected the wheel to the rudder. She hacked through the wheel itself for good measure, then followed Talia below.
The Hiladi kept their cannons in a lower deck. Dust shimmered in the sunbeams coming through the open gunports. Small pyramids of cannonballs sat in triangular brass frames beside each one. Danielle had to hunch to keep from banging her head on low-hanging beams.
Talia was already assaulting one of the cannons on the port side with a large hammer, driving an iron nail into the touchhole. Two men stood beside her, leaning out the gunport to better hear Morveren’s song.
Danielle moved to the starboard side. If the ship came about, she didn’t want them to be able to fire another broadside. Low partitions separated each cannon from the next. She grabbed one of the ramrods and tossed it out through the gunport. If they couldn’t load their guns, they could hardly continue their attack. She threw out the linstocks as well. The iron rods with their slow-burning matches left thin lines of smoke as they arched down into the water.
At the last gun, as she tugged the ramrod from the man’s hands, he blinked and pulled back. One hand grabbed her wrist. His eyes slowly focused on hers.
Danielle stomped on his foot. He shouted and swung the ramrod into her arm, knocking her down. He appeared disoriented, still fighting to shake off the effects of Morveren’s spell, but it was clear that the spell was weakening.
Danielle pulled out her sword and swung two-handed, knocking the ramrod from his hands. On the other side of the ship, two men stumbled toward Talia as she finished spiking another cannon. One raised a club overhead.
Talia jammed a nail into his gut, grabbed his shirt, and shoved him headfirst into the cannon. The second man wrapped his arms around her from behind, but Talia snapped her head back into his face. He let go, blood dripping from his lip.
“Time to go,” Talia shouted. She swung her hammer at the nearest stack of cannonballs, sending them rolling across the deck.
Danielle’s sword was too long a weapon for the cramped gundeck, but most of the crew were still too confused to put up much of a fight. She knocked several men aside with the flat of her blade. Talia cleared two more with well-placed kicks.
Topside, Snow stood with Lannadae, knife in hand as she tried to fight her way toward the edge of the deck. Talia jumped into the sunlight and threw her hammer. It spun past Snow’s shoulder and dropped one of her attackers. Snow cut a second while he was recovering from the surprise of Talia’s attack.
Danielle wasn’t sure exactly when Morveren had stopped singing, but the air was strangely quiet.The plugs in her ears muffled the shouts of the crew as they tried to rally against both the intruders and the
Phillipa
.